Page 11 of Certified Heartthrob

He continued up the steps, leaving me standing there with my mouth gaping wide. Who was this guy? Some kind of saint? How did he have the money to afford him the time to do all of this stuff? Soup kitchens and after-school programs weren’t exactly how I expected an internet troll to spend his days.

And he wasn’t done. After the community center, he dragged me along to a nursing home, where he visited with residents. By the end of it, my head was spinning. I had made more charitable contributions of my time in one day than I had in my entire life...and I didn’t even feel good about it. I just felt confused.

“You’re a mad man,” I fumed when we finally walked out of the nursing home. “I would say this was all some kind of setup to make me soften and let you off the hook for attacking my family’s company, but all of these people obviously know you. Do you do this kind of stuff every day?”

“Not these exact places. There are a few other organizations that count on me. But yes. Usually Monday through Friday, about eight to five, I volunteer.”

“You don’t work?” I huffed.

“I think it’s work. Just a different kind. Come on.” He bobbed his head and took off again.

I glanced down at my watch as I ran after him. “Well, you said until five and it’s nearly five now. So, please tell me you’re not leading me off to another place to volunteer.”

Finally, he laughed. “I didn’t expect you to last this long. You didn’t have to follow me around all day. But since you did...I can at least buy you dinner.”

I wanted to stop right then and there and refuse. Buying me dinner was like a date, and given his dating record...I definitely didn’t want anything to do with that. But my stomach had been growling for hours, since Mr. Do-Good was apparently too busy to stop for lunch. So, I kept following along.

“Fine. If there’s food, I’m in.”

A short while later, we were sliding into a booth at a local restaurant I had never heard of before, much less been to. Some Italian joint, by the looks of it.

“My mother was Italian,” he offered. “This place has the most authentic Italian food—not as good as hers, of course, but closer than anywhere else in the city.”

The smell of roasted garlic, fresh bread, and meatballs filled the air, making my mouth water...almost as much as the sight of his arms bulging through his button-up shirt’s sleeves as he pulled off his jacket and sat down across from me.

“Your mother...is she…”

“Passed away. My parents had me at an older age than most, so they lived long, happy lives...I just happened to sadly lose them sooner than I would have liked.”

“I’m sorry.” I recoiled. “I guess since you already know everything about my family...you know we lost our father a few years ago.”

He nodded. “My parents left me in a much better off financial position than your father left you in.”

“So, that’s how you have all this time to volunteer? You don’t work?”

“It is work,” he said again.

“For money,” I shot back. “You don’t work for money.”

“I don’t need to. I grew up in this community and I wanted to use my time to give back. To make sure this area thrives. I’m just one man and can’t do much…”

“Feeding the homeless, teaching children, giving company to the old and sick…” I marveled. “I’d say you do plenty.”

The waitress came by with our menus, but I didn’t need to look to order the largest glass of wine they had to offer. “Bring the whole bottle,” I added. Mark raised an eyebrow. “You said you were paying and you can obviously afford it. And since you’re hell-bent on running my family’s company into the ground, you can consider me one of your charity cases. Because at this rate, I will be broke and homeless by the time you’re through with us.”

I was only joking, but I still cringed at how easily he laughed. “I’m serious, Mark. You’re costing us a lot of money. Maybe you don’t have to worry about that kind of thing anymore, but we’ve had to rebuild everything we have from the ground up.”

“It can’t be that bad,” he scoffed.

“You’d be surprised. It doesn’t take much to bring a company like ours down these days.” My throat tightened at the thought of it, but it was nothing a big gulp of wine couldn’t fix, at least temporarily. And thankfully, it arrived just in time.

We were left in a stand-off...each sipping from our glasses as we stared the other down, each of us trying to figure the other one out. I still had a million questions, but didn’t know where to start. And he seemed to think he had my family and me all figured out, but something in his eyes was curious. Like he knew there was more to me than he’d originally pegged me for.

“What happened with Sydney?” I asked finally. “I hand-picked her for you. She was gorgeous and seemed really interesting. You didn’t have to fall in love with her and get married, but it seems impossible that the date was really so bad.”

“Do you know what dates really are?”

I waited. Of course I knew what dates were. My entire business was centered around them. But I could tell by the gleam in his eye that he thought he was about to tell me something I didn’t know.

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