Page 22 of The Damaged Billionaire

“Sounds like you have it all planned out,” I offer, looking around for a waiter, wanting to get the hell out of here already. We have been here for almost two hours, and I think that is long enough.

“For you, madame,” the waiter says, coming up to me from the side. As he puts a plate in front of me, a lone cupcake stares back. Vanilla with a sunny yellow frosting.

“I didn’t order that,” Roger spits out. His behavior toward the waitstaff here tonight has been less than stellar.

“No, but I did,” a familiar deep voice says, and I look up to see Tennyson Rothschild standing to my left, his hand now resting on the back of my chair. I am glad I am sitting down, because even though I have seen him in a suit before, this vision of him now would most certainly sweep me off my feet. Black suit, well fitted across his broad shoulders. White crisp shirt underneath, open at the neck. He is relaxed yet professional and looking like every woman’s dream man.

“Who the hell are you?” Roger questions, looking less than impressed.

“Tennyson Rothschild,” Tennyson says, holding out his hand in introduction.

“Roger Court.” Roger stands, shaking his hand. It’s clear he knows who Tennyson is, the Rothschild name more common now that Harrison is governor. Roger is the poster child for Pleasantville as he smiles and stares at Tennyson, probably thinking that he would be good to have in his political corner.

“I have paid your bill. Roger, you are free to go. I will ensure your date is looked after,” Tennyson says, and I look around the room, seeing most of the people have left.

Roger looks at me then, like he is deciding whether to stay or go. I can’t even speak. I’m shocked that Tennyson is here, and more than a little pissed that my date is considering leaving me with another man without consulting me. My mind is a whirl of thoughts before I feel it—Tennyson's hand on my shoulder. He rubs his thumb across my skin, and I instantly relax. I look up at Tennyson and see his eyes staring right at Roger, ensuring he knows exactly who is with me, and it isn’t him. And then, I feel relief. Relief that, although my date is a total douchebag, I dodged a bullet. Relief that Tennyson is here. The touch of his thumb on my shoulder is barely anything, but the hum through my body has my skin pulsating and butterflies swirling. We are electric together. This touch only cements it.

“Fine,” Roger mumbles, throwing his napkin on the table, then grabbing his coat and walking straight out the door, his free steak keeping his belly full. And the handshake with Tennyson will keep his story bank full for his next few dates, no doubt.

“What are you doing here?” I ask Tennyson as he takes a seat opposite me, the waiter scurrying to clean the table and leaving another cupcake, placing it in front of him.

“Well, I couldn’t let my girl suffer all night,” he says with a cheeky smile before he pierces the cupcake with a fork, taking a big bite. My girl. Those two words have my chest warming despite myself. I shouldn’t be entertaining this, never mind enjoying it.

“How did you know where I was?” I ask again, not sure whether to be relieved to be saved from my disaster of a date or annoyed that Tennyson showed up at all. Especially when he will be out late and not adhering to my schedule.

“Your social media photo,” he offers, taking another bite.

“Are you stalking me now?” I ask in jest, and he smiles.

“I am. You know where I am every minute of the day, so I think it is only fair. Are you going to eat that?” His fork points to the cupcake in front of me. It looks delicious, and my mouth waters, so I don’t hesitate to grab my fork and dig in.

“Were you in DC? I didn't see that on your schedule.” I went through his diary this week three times, and a visit to DC would have been something I noticed. I take a bite of the cupcake and moan. It is fresh, lemon, and so soft, I immediately want more.

“Fuck,” Tennyson murmurs, barely loud enough for me to hear, and my eyes flick to him. He looks at me with heat in his gaze, and I raise my eyebrows in question.

“You all right?” I ask with a mouth full of cake.

“Your moan is just like I remember,” he grits out, and I swallow, feeling myself getting hot all over. We are both dancing way too close to the flame. My feelings for him are hardly contained. The fact that he is here is all the evidence I need that he feels the same. I clear my throat and try to get us back on track. I can’t think of him like that. He is a client. I can’t go there.

“So how did you get here so fast? I took that photo only an hour or so ago.” Squeezing my thighs together, I try to slow my racing heart. His eyes on me are everything. I feel wanted again, and it feels too good.

“I grabbed the chopper,” he says, shrugging, like he is describing a trip to the grocery store.

“Are you serious?” I pull back, not believing my ears. Did he say chopper?

“What?” he asks, the last bite of his cupcake now in his mouth as he looks at me like a trip in a helicopter to DC is a regular occurrence. Maybe for him, it is. This is the spending that Harrison was talking about.

“You flew down here just to interrupt my date?” I ask, bewildered.

“No. I flew here to save you from your date,” he reinstates with a satisfied smile on his face.

“In a helicopter?” This is crazy. I have never had someone even drive anywhere to pick me up. A helicopter? For me?

“No, in my helicopter.” He sits back, a smirk growing on his face that I really want to put my lips on. I am shocked and sit unmoving for a beat, digesting the information. When I look around the restaurant this time, I see it’s empty. Only Tennyson and I are left, and two staff polishing glasses over near the bar.

“Tennyson, you can’t… I mean, we can’t…” I try to think of the right words to say. As much as I want to jump across this table and feel his arms on my body, I can’t go there. His reputation needs rebuilding. And if I am romantically connected with a client, my reputation may take a hit too. There are so many unknowns.

“I know, Willow. It’s all right. Eat your cupcake, and then I will take you home,” he says softly, looking serious, and I nod, taking another bite as he watches me in deep thought.

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