Page 2 of The Billionaire Touch

With each new interaction, he distanced himself. People that didn’t know him thought he was a dick, but he just found the experience overwhelming. It was much better to hang out with a couple of people as opposed to hitting up an overcrowded party. He thrived on emotional and physical space.

“You’ve dated her type before and already know how it ends,” Cor said, drawing his attention. “She plays hard to get and you pretend her lackluster conversations are interesting.”

“Maybe I like hearing about her bedazzled dog and daddy issues.” But his friend was right, the woman wasn’t his type. Maybe that’s why he’d sought her out. He didn’t have to invest anything of himself. It was easier to not make-believe he was someone he wasn’t.

Cor barked a laugh. “Uh-huh. The minute you stop pretending to be impressed by her daddy’s yacht, she’ll decide to stop stringing you along.” He shook his head. “I don’t even know why you pretend to be intrigued. You’ve got more money than Thaddeus.”

Cor knew he hated hearing that name. Thaddeus was a pompous kid from high school who made sure the entire school knew he came from money. It’s ironic that Thaddeus is also the name of the patron saint of lost causes.

Spencer shrugged. Money didn’t stop the loneliness or yearning for a relationship that ran below the surface. And it seemed money attracted those who were more interested in his account balance than in knowing him.

“I’m trying to be social.”

Cor cocked his head.

Wanting to change the topic, he said, “Anyway, you’re just cock blocking because your hook-up got away. What’s that woman’s name again?”

Cor had been in a sour mood ever since he returned from Wheelcaster…correction, ever since his one-night stand left him butt-naked with a hard-on.

“She said her name was Joan.” Cor’s lips thinned. “This isn’t about me. I’m making sure you’re okay with your date being all up in your space.”

Spencer cringed at the mention of his space being invaded by a stranger. His unease was a small price to pay for finding a Mrs. Right of his own. At least that was what he had told himself all day.

“Look, sorry about tonight, but I’m fixin’ to go to a meeting with the new marketing advisor for Eros. The Christmas line is in jeopardy of not meeting the first shipment. I can’t blow it off.”

“What happened now?”

Cor rubbed his hand down the center of his face. A tell-tale sign his friend was frustrated with the progress of the launch. “Let’s just say, some of the original designs need overhauling and the new shades of nude aren’t being delivered fast enough.”

“Tell me that condom pocket idea is squashed.” Spencer raised a brow. “I’m all for responsible sex, but the partner enjoying his woman in lingerie should bear some of that responsibility.”

“Agreed,” Cor said. “It took a few tries, but the market testing helped the designer understand the client’s needs.” Cor pulled out his cell phone.

“Who are you calling?” Spencer frowned. “I thought you weren’t blowing off the meeting.”

“I’m not. I’m calling Wren.”

“Hell. No. I know the three of us are best friends and all, but there is no way I’m taking him anywhere near the woman I’m hoping to land.”

“Too late.” Cor put the phone on speaker.

“Hey,” Wren answered on the second ring.

“What are you doing right now?” Cor asked, the corner of his mouth twitching as Spencer’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Spencer needs a wingman.”

“Sure…I can chaperone.”

“Hell no!” Spencer shouted. “I’m not giving you a chance to use that rice-water hair.”

Wren laughed. “Like you don’t have the ladies drooling all over your dreads.”

Spencer rolled his eyes.

“Cor, buddy, text me the details. Spencer, I’ll meet you in twenty.” Wren sniffed loudly. “Make that thirty. Got to look sharp for the ladies.”

“Do you hear him?” Spencer grunted.

Cor raised his hands in the air.

---