Bargaining for the Billionaire (2 page)

Christina smiled. “Of course. You didn't think I'd set you up with someone I didn't? I've known him since high school. Gr—I mean, Dave is a nice guy.”

Maddie narrowed her gaze on Christina. It had almost sounded like Christina was about to say another name. In fact, since this whole thing began, Christina and Hannah had had
secret
written all over them. Their heads were always bent together in a quiet conversation that ceased the minute Maddie joined them. She'd let them convince her it was nothing, but this time, she had to know.

She pursed her lips and pointed a finger. “All right, what is it you're not telling me about him?”

Christina held up her free hand in mock surrender. “Nothing, I promise. You just picked an excellent wine is all. I'm afraid I haven't indulged in a while, and this Moscato is delicious. It's going straight to my head.”

Hannah jerked her gaze to Christina and raised her brows. “Why haven't you been indulging? You love wine. You always indulge.”

Christina flushed to the roots of her dark hair and glanced down, brushing invisible bits from her lap. “I think seeing you and Cade with little Emily is getting to him, because Sebastian suddenly wants a baby. And I thought I might be pregnant for a while. False alarm.”

Hannah squealed and threw her arms around Christina, hugging her tight, much to Christina's dismay. “Oooh, I'm so happy for you. He's going to make a great dad.”

Momentarily distracted, Maddie couldn't resist a giggle. This was what had drawn them all together in the first place. They were all so much alike. Teasing came easily, and the laughter flowed freely. Now, it had her mind shifting gears. Christina and Sebastian had been married almost a year now. She'd married her brother's best friend. Having known each other most of their lives and been in love with each other for half that, the two were the poster children for typical newlyweds. They had a penchant for disappearing together. Christina always returned a little flushed. Sebastian usually came back with a swagger and a grin, like he'd conquered the world.

“The point being”—Christina narrowed her gaze, eyeing them one by one—“I've known him for a long time. He always was a bit of a loner. We're a lot alike in that respect. Growing up, he was a fellow nerd. Smart, worked hard to get good grades. I've been trying to get him to participate in the auction since its inception, but he's always refused. This year I managed to convince him, but only if I promised to fix the game for him. He didn't want to end up with a date he'd regret or someone who'd make his life hell afterward.”

Maddie arched a brow. “Isn't that cheating?”

“Yes, but it's for a good cause. The purpose is to raise money and awareness.” Hannah shrugged. “Besides, everybody always has fun, and there are eleven other bachelors.”

Maddie's phone pinged again, another message flashing on the dark screen. She squeezed her eyes shut, afraid to look. “I still don't know if I can do this. Grayson took a lot out of me.”

“You have to get back on that horse sometime, Madds. If you want to find Prince Charming, you have to kiss a few toads.” Hannah nudged her with a socked foot again. “Go on. Pick it up and flirt with the man. Have a good time. See where it takes you. It doesn't have to be any more complicated than that. What's it going to hurt?”

Maddie opened her eyes and sighed. They were right. She'd never be able to move on by playing celibate and dead. She leaned forward, snatched her phone off the coffee table, and peered at the message.

BookNerd: Did I scare you off already?

She arched a brow at Christina. “Is he really good looking or was that lip service? Be honest.”

Christina winked, mischievous and amused. “Oh, I think he'll make a
mighty
fine horse.”

Maddie laughed softly. “You two are terrible, you know that?”

Only between the three of them would they ever say something so audacious, but it was what she loved about Hannah and Christina. They could relax around each other, say things they might not otherwise. It made them excellent friends. She never held back with them. It was also what had made her give in to this date, despite everything inside of her screaming what a bad idea it was. They'd always have her back, no matter what.

Hannah pursed her lips and waved a hand at her. “Oh, come off it. You're thinking it and you know it.”

Maddie shook her head. “I am getting awful tired of B.O.B.”

Christina and Hannah broke into a fit of giggles. Maddie drew up her inner vixen, beaten and worn out though she was, and typed the first halfway playful thing she could think of.

MadHatter3000: I don't scare so easily. U just better have ur A-game on.

His reply arrived seconds later.

BookNerd: Ohh, sweetheart. Consider that challenge accepted.

Y
ou know, she's going to be pissed when she discovers it's you, that you're not some random bachelor.”

Grayson Lockwood grunted in answer but didn't bother looking up from his laptop. He didn't need to see her to face to know Cassie was giving him “the look.” Cassandra Stephanopoulos had been his best friend since tenth grade. They'd met in an English class she was failing. Their friendship had begun when she'd asked him to tutor her. More to the point, they'd had this conversation before. He'd gone over the argument at least a million times in his head. This charade would no doubt fail like the one three years ago, but he had to take the chance.

Agreeing to take part in Christina McKenzie's bachelor auction had been a spur of the moment decision. Every year she tried to rope him into participating, and every year he refused. He had no desire to be paraded around like livestock, waiting to go on a date with a woman who'd no doubt try to wrangle herself into his life and his pockets.

Except Christina had shown up this time with backup, in the form of Hannah Miller, now apparently Hannah McKenzie. He'd taken one look at Hannah and the wheels had started spinning. He'd worked alongside Hannah at Bradbury Books for over a year and a half, while on his little mission to recoup his adoptive father's good name. He knew darn well she and Maddie O'Riley were joined at the hip, and that they now owned a small, eclectic bookshop downtown. In her sweet smile as Christina attempted to persuade him into participating, the opportunity of a lifetime had presented itself.

He hit SEND on Gchat and lifted his gaze. Cassie stood before him with one hand planted on her hip and one dark brow arched in silent challenge. Short and petite she might be. Never mind that her pixie haircut made her appear as if she were still in college, despite that she was twenty-eight. But when she wanted to be, Cassie could be damn fierce.

He released a heavy breath, relenting to her inquisition. “I know. I'll admit it. I may very well have lost my mind by thinking this up, but I've been waiting three years for the chance to finally explain myself to her. I can't let this opportunity pass me by. Not this time.”

He'd done everything wrong with Maddie. She shouldn't have had to find out about his charade in the goddamn newspaper. A little over four years ago, rumors had started that he'd gained his position as CEO of Bradbury Books because his father owned the company. There were also those who knew where he'd come from and speculated that he hadn't gained his position through hard work, but because Arthur had merely taken pity on a poor street kid. It implied, of course, that Arthur had been a soft-hearted, but feeble-minded old fool. That he wasn't capable of running his own company, and by default, that Grayson was unfit to take his place after his death.

Arthur Bradbury had been the only man in his life to prove himself worthy of being called
father
. He'd been a strict, but kind old man, one who'd taken a dirty kid off the streets and given him a home. He deserved better than to be remembered that way, and Grayson vowed to prove them wrong.

So, he'd set out to earn the trust of the employees and board members. He wanted to prove he'd earned his position by working his tail off and the only way he could think to do that was to show them, by working down in the trenches with them. He'd started where everyone else did—entry level, with the intention of working his way up. Eventually, he'd reveal himself and set his new plans for the company into motion.

Except his plan backfired. Six months into the charade, someone discovered the truth and leaked the story to a local newspaper for a buck. Maddie discovered he'd lied to her about who he was before he had the chance to tell her. She'd read that newspaper article and assumed the worst, then ended their relationship point blank. In his defense, he hadn't known at first whether or not he could trust her. And then fear had gotten to him.

His childhood before he met Arthur wasn't a story he liked to remember and it wasn't something he shared easily. Other than Cassie, not many knew the ugly world Arthur had pulled him from. Most people assumed he'd been a runaway. He'd worried about Maddie's reaction. Would his past matter to her? When he eventually showed her his back, would the scars disgust her?

He should've told her long before that damn article ever printed. For three years he'd lamented his decision. Now he had the chance to fix it. She might very well walk away from him again, but he had to try. The problem was, Maddie wouldn't give him the time of day.

“I let fear get in the way last time, Cassie. I can't do it again.”

Cassie shook her head, empathy rising in her eyes. She'd been his best friend for fifteen years; she knew the life he'd lived before Arthur found him. She knew as well the shame that life had stained on his soul. He'd worked hard to move beyond the street urchin he'd once been, eating out of the garbage and begging for money in order to make it through the day. He'd worked damn hard, too, to make sure Arthur never regretted bringing him home that night.

“I've said it before, Gray, and I'll say it again. Anyone who holds your past against you isn't worth it.” She smiled and her dark brown eyes filled with a familiar, mischievous glint. “You do realize when she finds out, she isn't just going to be mad. If she's a typical redhead, she's likely to lop your balls off and hang them from the top of the Space Needle.”

He grinned. She was right, of course. If you were on her good side, Maddie could be as sweet as they came. If you were on her bad side…well, Maddie tended to hold a grudge.

He chuckled and transferred his laptop to the couch beside him. “Yes, and I look forward to the challenge.”

He let his wounded pride get in the way last time. He'd let her go, and he wouldn't do it again. This time, he had to tell her what she really meant to him, that he loved her. Because he missed her. He regretted not fighting for her when he had the chance. That weekend three years ago, he'd planned a romantic getaway for the two of them, a little cabin on the coast. He'd planned to tell her everything and let the cards fall where they may but had hoped she'd give him the benefit of the doubt.

Then that blasted newspaper article printed, spouting half-truths. They too had suggested that he hadn't earned his position. Had even gone so far as to accuse him of trying to con a kind old man. When he'd threatened to sue for defamation of character, they'd printed a retraction a week later, but the result was still the same. Maddie wouldn't so much as give him the time of day, and he'd been so hurt, he'd convinced himself he didn't need her.

A musical ping sounded from his laptop, signaling an incoming message, and Maddie's Gchat box popped onto his screen. Of course, he knew it was her. While working alongside her three years ago, they'd spent a lot of time e-mailing and chatting. Somewhere buried on his laptop, he had well over a year's worth of e-mails saved. He'd know that username in his sleep.

Cassie frowned and shook her head.

“That's my cue to go. I have a dinner date. I also have no desire to watch you dig your own grave.” She crossed the room and bent over him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and squeezing. “Don't let this drag out. Tell her. Soon.”

When she pulled back, he smiled at her. “She'll find out at the auction. That's the whole idea. I want her to get to know
me
again, and that won't happen if she knows it's me. She'll shut me down before I even get a word out. At least this way, I have a fighting chance.”

Cassie furrowed her brow as she straightened and shoved a stern finger at him. “Balls, Gray. Mark my words, you're going to lose yours.” She leaned over to peck his cheek, then shook her head and made her way to the front door, her heels clicking softly on the hardwood floors. “Dinner. Soon. You owe me.”

He set his laptop on his knees again and darted a glance over his shoulder. “Tomorrow night good for you? I'll even let you pick the place.”

“Tomorrow is wonderful. I should be home by seven.” The door opened with a soft crack and a whoosh of air. “And something expensive.”

Grayson chuckled. “I almost feel sorry for the poor bastard you end up with. He's going to need deep pockets.”

It was almost an insult, but he knew Cassie wouldn't be offended. It was a playful conversation they'd had before. He preferred simple, cheap food. Old habits died hard. A good burger was a good burger, and he couldn't see spending fifty bucks for one because the establishment called itself “upscale.” Cassie, however, had grown up spoiled. Her father owned a small chain of Greek Restaurants and had doted on her. Cassie, jewelry designer extraordinaire, had developed expensive tastes.

As expected, she laughed, light, airy and amused. “Honey, I've got my own pockets. He just needs to have stamina.”

Grayson laughed, and the door closed behind her. Alone now, he returned his attention to his laptop, reading Maddie's message. Christ, he'd missed her. She had passion. Technically, they'd never made love, and if all went according to plan, they wouldn't anytime soon. At least not yet. He had plans to sweep one Madison O'Riley clean off her stubborn heels. He wanted her trust first. Then he planned to make love to her long and slow. But the thought of her at home, flirting with him, was enough to light his fire.

MadHatter3000: is this your idea of an A-game? Flowers are really cliché, you know.

Grayson grinned. Two days had passed since their first chat. He hadn't spoken to her since. Meetings and book releases had kept him busy. Today, he'd decided to take the charade one step forward. He'd sent her flowers. He was leaving breadcrumbs. By the time the auction came, she'd have enough pieces to put together the puzzle. The first one was, of course, his Gchat username. He'd chosen it on purpose. The second? He'd sent her white lilies. The exact kind he'd given her for her birthday when they first started dating three years ago. Mixed in, of course, were some brighter tones so it wasn't too easy for her to guess.

BookNerd: Flowers are classic. If you ask me, they're never cliché or out of style. Are they too much?

Seconds passed in silence. Having to keep himself in check was killing him. He wanted to ask her what she was wearing, what she was doing, what perfume she'd put on this morning. None of which he could, because she had no idea who he was. He was essentially a stranger to her. It drove him nuts, and yet lured him at the same time. He couldn't wait to get to know her again, to open her up. Hell, simply being able to talk to her at all made him want to beat his chest.

A full minute passed before her reply popped up.

MadHatter3000: No. They're beautiful. Thanks. I'm not sure what to say, though. I didn't expect it. How'd you know where to send them?

BookNerd: I asked Christina to send.

That, at least, was true, though mostly because Maddie could check if she chose to.

Her instantaneous reply filled his mind with visions of her. Seated on that God awful purple couch in her living room. She was on her laptop for sure, because she spelled out her words. Maddie tended to revert to what everyone else did when texting. He loathed text shorthand. It also didn't look good coming from the CEO of a publishing company.

MadHatter3000: That explains how you knew my favorite flower.

BookNerd: I asked her to send you something beautiful. But you probably get flowers all the time.

MadHatter3000: LOL. That would require me having a man. Which I don't.

That made him grin in spite of himself. The thought of her making love to another man made him want to dent something and filled him with a crushing regret. The first year after their break up, he'd lamented that the most—that she wasn't his anymore.

He might not have a chance in hell of winning Maddie back, but this, at least, gave him hope. That she'd even agreed to this blind date meant she wasn't seeing anyone, now at least. He shouldn't ask, and although curiosity might very well have killed the cat, he had to know.

BookNerd: May I ask why not?

Grayson waited for what seemed forever, and her lack of answer grated on his nerves. Had he pushed her too hard? Damn it all to hell. He hated pretending he didn't know her. There were so many things he yearned to tell her.

Finally, her reply popped onto his screen.

MadHatter3000: What, no comment about this being your lucky break?

Grayson grinned. Unless he was mistaken, she was flirting with him. That was a damn good sign.

He drew a deep breath.
Play it cool, Lockwood.

BookNerd: Nope. Figured that was a given, everything considered. It's really none of my business, but seeing as we're supposed to be getting to know each other, I figured this was a safe area. Start with the basics.

MadHatter3000: I'm surprised. No sexual comments yet. Impressive. For most men, the basics would've started with measurements. That's how this works, right?

Her words taunted him with all those things he yearned to ask. Memories past lodged themselves in his mind. All those late night chats, when he should have been working but had become distracted by her. An innocent,
“Hello, hope you're having a good night,”
from her had launched a thousand e-mails between them, each one hotter than the last, and usually ended in him picking up his phone. He'd tell her everything he wanted to do to her, and the conversations always ended in phenomenal orgasms for both of them. They might not have made love, but they'd done a hell of a lot. To this day the little noise she made when she came still haunted his dreams.

His fingers trembled over the keyboard as he struggled with his reply. What he wanted to say versus what he ought to say.