Played by the Billionaire
by Alexia Adams
Copyright © 2014 by Alexia Adams. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Chapter One
“Oh man, you are so screwed.”
Liam glided the Aston Martin into his reserved double-wide parking space before glancing over at his friend. He couldn’t really argue with David’s statement. It was exactly how he felt.
“I have to do it. I promised Marcus.” His chest tightened at the mention of his brother. Two weeks hadn’t lessened the burning pain he’d experienced as he held Marcus’s hand and watched him slip away. All his money and he hadn’t been able to save the one person in the world who loved him unconditionally. Liam unclenched his hands from the steering wheel.
“So you’re going to take a leave of absence from being CEO and Chairman of IWC Security to finish your brother’s book? Go from king of the Internet security world to a writer?” The incredulity in David’s voice couldn’t have been greater if Liam had said he was going into space next week.
“It’s the only thing he’s ever asked me to do. I promised I’d finish it within three months and I can’t do that if I’m running the company. He has a publisher ready to look at it, but it has to be on his desk by the end of September. Marcus said it was his best, his life’s work—his legacy. He wants to be remembered for his writing, not his rare heart condition.” Liam flung open his door and stepped from the low-slung sports car.
“I still don’t understand why you have to write the rest. Can’t you hire someone to do it? What about Marcus’s wife? Why can’t Crescy write it?”
They climbed the concrete stairs to the main level of IWC Security corporate headquarters. Instead of taking the door to the lobby to go up to the offices, Liam exited left, onto the street.
“I promised Marcus I would write the rest personally. It was important to him that someone who loved him saw it through. Crescy is devastated and has gone back to Saint Lucia. Besides, she’s only been part of his life for four years. I had thirty-two years to get to know how his mind worked. I’ve got an editor lined up to fix my bad grammar, and I’ve read all of Marcus’s writing books. I’ve written stuff before, you know.”
“You write security programs in a variety of languages, English not being one of them. Are you going to write the novel in Perl?”
Liam ignored his friend. Writing the book was the least worrying part in this whole stupid situation. It was the romance aspect that had him waking in a panic every night since he’d made the promise to his brother.
“By the way, where are we going?” David was breathless. He had to jog to keep up with Liam’s long strides.
Liam slowed, seeing his friend start to sweat despite the chill in the air. It might have been July in San Francisco, but that didn’t mean it was warm. “To do some research,” he said.
“What kind of research?”
Liam stopped and punched the pedestrian cross button. A young man, wearing a black hoodie with his pants halfway down his backside and a cigarette dangling from his mouth, took a step sideways out of Liam’s path. A sardonic smile crept over Liam’s face at the punk’s movement. Why couldn’t he have been this size in high school?
Growing nearly a foot and developing muscles after he finished school hadn’t made up for all the years Marcus had had to play protective big brother. That’s why he had to do this now. Marcus had always been his champion, the only person to understand and love him. He’d do anything for his older brother. Liam’s chest squeezed again and he sucked in a huge lungful of air, hoping to relieve the pressure.
The shrill chirping of the crossing signal, indicating it was safe to walk, broke through Liam’s misery. “Marcus was writing a mystery novel with romantic elements. The hero is an everyday guy who gets caught up in some intrigue. Along the way he meets a girl and falls in love. The mystery bit I can write with no problem. Marcus outlined his plot on that one. The romance element is another thing. I’m not exactly out on dates every night. And evidently for the emotion of a scene to come across I have to be familiar with it. So I need a girlfriend.” Liam spat out the last word as though it were poison.
“Why don’t you call up one of the women you’ve gone out with before?”
“Trust me, I thought of that. According to Marcus, it has to be a real relationship. Not one based on my wealth. All my previous girlfriends hung around for the expensive dinners, exotic holidays, and nice jewelry.”
“What about that Latvian girl, what was her name? Svetlana? You dumped her as soon as the words ‘I love you’ came out of her mouth.”
“It was Iliana and she was a model from Lithuania.” Liam heaved a sigh. “Once a woman says she loves you she expects marriage and babies. I don’t do marriage and babies. It was better to end it with an appropriately expensive present than for anyone to waste any more time on the relationship. For the story, the hero is an everyday guy. So I have to pretend to be a regular guy and get a regular girlfriend. No flashy dates, no trips on the private jet to the Caribbean, regular guy stuff. None of the women I’ve dated before would go for that.”
“And how do you expect to get a girlfriend who doesn’t know who you are? OneGoogle searchand she’ll spot you in twenty seconds.”
“That’s why I’m going to shave off my beard, get a makeover, and use my middle name. Even if she searches she’s unlikely to think William Manning rich guy is the same person as Liam Mackenzie, regular guy. I’ve set up a couple social media profiles as regular guy Liam, and some mysterious virus has temporarily eaten any photos of William Manning on the Internet. There’s a limited life span on the virus so they’ll restore in a couple of weeks’ time, save me having to go back in and fix them later.”
He pushed open the door to a small coffee shop. There were ten people waiting in the order line. Signaling to the barista behind the espresso machine, Liam bypassed the long line and picked up the two coffees she placed on the counter. He smiled at the woman, whose cheeks turned pink, before leading David over to a small table in the corner.
“Hold on. Did you just say you were going to shave? Has anyone ever seen you without your beard and mustache?”
“No, and that’s exactly the point. No one will recognize me, and I can play the regular guy until I finish this stupid book and get back to my real life.” He ran a hand over his beard, a bit longer than usual as he hadn’t trimmed it since Marcus went into hospital for the final time. He’d never shaved since sprouting his first whisker at the age of sixteen.
“What are we doing here? Are you researching what normal people do in the morning?” David took a gulp of his coffee. A flicker of surprise crossed his face as the rich flavor passed over his tongue. “God, this is so much better than the crap I normally drink.”
“That’s because it’s hot and freshly made. By the time you remember you ordered a coffee it’s cold with scum on the top. Not that I’m complaining, you’re the best programmer I’ve got. I appreciate your single-minded dedication to your work. To answer your original question, I’m here to see a woman.”
“What? You’re going to pluck a woman out of the lineup here?” David scanned the row of people waiting to order.
“Of course not. I’ve made arrangements.” Liam sat back in his chair. He tried out the deep breathing technique Marcus had used to cope with pain. If it had been anyone other than his brother who’d come up with this idea, he’d have shot him down in an instant. Liam had spent the last ten years avoiding love and relationships.
The two times he’d let himself feel something for a woman had ended in absolute betrayal. He was smart enough to know his limitations. He wasn’t love material. Iliana might have said she loved him, but what she really meant was she loved his money and was willing to put up with the rest of him for the sake of a cushy life. The fact that she’d hooked up with another rich guy within a month of their breakup proved it. Forcing a smile to hide his discomfort, he glanced at his oldest friend.
“Spill, Liam. That’s the look you get when you’re about to crack a competitor’s system.”
“I did some research last night.” Liam waved his hand in a vague gesture.
“In other words, you hacked.”
“Shush, not so loud. You’ll freak people out.”
“Chill, man, people think hackers are pimply teenagers who live in their mothers’ basements. You’re wearing a suit. No one would ever believe you know more tricks to bypass security systems than anyone else on earth.”
“I don’t know more than anyone else on earth, just the vast majority. Anyway, I went onto a dating site and found a woman. She’s going to be my fake girlfriend. According to her bank statement, she comes here for coffee every morning. I want to make sure she’s appropriate. The photo on her profile seemed too good to be true.” Despite his best effort to remain calm, his heartbeat accelerated.
“Does she know about this?”
“Of course not. The emotion has to be genuine, on her part at least. So I can’t tell her.”
“What if she falls in love with you?”
“Unlikely—I’m not all that lovable. And even if she does, she’s falling in love with a regular guy, not me. After I finish the novel, I’ll let her down gently with a nice piece of jewelry or a trip to Antigua.”
“And if you fall in love with her?” David sat back in his chair as though making sure he was out of range of Liam’s fist.
“Not going to happen, man. Not going to happen.”
A bus stopped out in front of the café; the passengers got off. The majority trudged down the street toward their day jobs, looking bored already. Two walked into the coffee shop—an older man in a stained raincoat and a young woman in a dark-gray fitted pantsuit. The drab color didn’t hide her curvaceous hips or full breasts. Light-brown hair, more golden in places, was pulled back into a long, thick ponytail. Her face was very pretty with full, pink lips, glass-cutting cheekbones, and light-green eyes. She had the sort of face that lingered in the memory long after she left.
Liam took a long swig of his coffee, hoping to drown the niggling sensation of pending doom in his stomach. “There she is.”
David swiveled and nearly fell off his chair. “Her photo didn’t lie. I’ll say it again, my friend. You are so screwed.”
…
Lorelei counted the number of people in front of her and then glanced at her watch. If everyone ordered promptly she’d still make it to work on time. It was the ditherers who threw the day off. How could people spend ten minutes in the lineup and then not know what they wanted to order when they got to the counter? She didn’t even need to tell the cashier what she wanted; it was the same every day. Even though she’d only been in San Francisco for a little less than a month, she’d been coming to this coffee shop each workday. It gave her a sense of family, seeing the same faces each morning, which she missed having moved so far from home.
Maybe that was her problem. She was too predictable, ordering the same thing every day, never spicing it up or trying something new. Like her taste in men—predictable. Each and every one had turned out to be a liar and a loser. Today she should try something different. She stared at the menu behind the counter, wishing genuine love were printed on the chalkboard. She’d order that in a heartbeat.
As if on cue, her cell phone vibrated in her bag. She eventually found it under an empty package of cinnamon gum. Groaning as she saw her mother’s number on the screen, she pressed answer anyway. If she didn’t speak with her now she’d keep calling until she did.
“Good morning, Mama.”
“Morning? It’s almost noon here, aren’t you at work already?”
“No, it’s only quarter to nine. Remember, I’m three hours behind you now.” She was sure her mother ignored the time difference on purpose, just to show she could still interfere in her daughter’s life whenever she wanted.
“It’s Wednesday. At least it’s Wednesday here. Do you have a date for the weekend yet?”
Lorelei clenched her jaw and mentally counted to ten. When that didn’t calm her she counted backward, in Spanish. Her mother had lived in America for the past thirty years, but when it came to her daughter, she was 100 percent old-school Mexican. In her mother’s eyes, Lorelei’s main purpose in life was to marry and provide grandchildren. A responsibility she was reminded of almost daily.
“I think I’ve been disconnected? Hello? Lorelei?”
“I’m still here. Yes, it’s Wednesday. I’m the other side of the country, not the globe. As for a date, I haven’t got one yet, but the week is still young.”
“Haven’t you met anyone?”
“Mama, I’ve been in San Fran for twenty-eight days. I haven’t had time to meet many people.” She was three customers away from the counter. With any luck she’d legitimately be able to hang up in approximately two minutes. Seemed as though she’d have to have the usual, because there was no way she was going to stand at the front of the line and read the menu from there.
“Well, I thought you might be having trouble so I’ve signed you up on one of those Internet dating sites. I’ve emailed you the details. There are some very nice men on there. I wrote down their names and sent that to you as well.”
“You did what?” Several heads turned in her direction as her voice rose three octaves and ten decibel levels.
“Bernice Anderson came to visit last night and said her daughter had trouble finding a husband as well. But after she signed up online she was married within three months.” The triumph in her mother’s voice was unmistakable.
Lorelei shook her head. Bernice Anderson’s daughter, with her unibrow and fondness for doughnuts, would never be the poster child for any dating site. One more person stood between Lorelei and her coffee order. Please be quick, please be quick.
“I’m not desperate.”
“Querida, you’re also not getting any younger. Thirty is only a couple years away, and you know what they say about women over thirty. They are statistically more likely to get murdered than married.”
The man in front of her was debating the merits of a decaf mocha over a soy latte with the cashier.
“I’ll keep that in mind. I’ve got to go. It’s my turn to order.”
“Promise me you’ll go online and check out the men.”
“I promise. Bye, Mama. Te quiero.” Lorelei pressed end call before her mother threatened to come and visit and find a man for her personally. She’d promised to look. Didn’t mean she had to go out with any of them.
While waiting for the barista to prepare her vanilla latte, she glanced around the café. Three regulars she spotted right away and returned their nods of recognition. A huge, hairy guy in his early thirties filled the corner of the café. Their eyes met and she blinked at the intensity of his dark gaze. The other man at the table with him was of similar age but smaller, and trying to hide a bald spot with a comb-over of light-blond hair.
Lorelei peeked at her watch; she had eight minutes to make it to her office. Fortunately, for her at least, her need to flee Buffalo had coincided with an Event Director vacancy in the San Francisco office of the Happy Day charity. If she hadn’t been one of the top event planners for the charity, she was sure she’d have been fired rather than transferred after her last relationship blackened her name. Thankfully, the scandal seemed to have remained back east and she could continue to help raise money for sick children to enjoy a dream day. Now if only the weather would warm up, she could begin to enjoy her new start in California.
Picking up her drink with a smile for the barista, she settled the straps of her handbag on her shoulder and strode toward the door. The ditherer, who had been in the lineup in front of her, turned and walked straight into her. Lorelei’s coffee fell to the floor with a sickening splat.
“Oh sorry, miss.” He stared at the growing brown puddle, stepping back before it soiled his suede shoes. He slid toward the door, as though trying to distance himself from the disaster.
Lorelei counted backward from one hundred in Spanish. Great, now she’d have to either line up again and be late for work or settle for the crappy coffee at the office.
The guy with the beard and intense eyes from the corner table appeared at her elbow. He reached behind her and grabbed another cup, complete with lid, off the counter. When Lorelei turned to her, the friendly barista gave her a thumbs-up. “I made an extra, by accident,” she said.
“Enjoy your day,” the tall man said as he handed her the coffee. His voice was deep and silky, and she forced her gaze from the liquid chocolate eyes that smiled into hers. Giving herself a mental shake, she glanced at her watch again. Damn, now she was late.
She stepped around the spilled coffee as a mop-wielding man arrived on the scene.
“Thank you,” she called over her shoulder. The man who had knocked her drink from her hand stood in the doorway as if trying to decide which way to go.
Maybe her mother had the right idea. At least with Internet dating she could hopefully filter out some of the weirdoes.
…
Liam stood at the front of the packed conference room, knowing there were just as many people listening via conference call. All eyes were focused on him, the only sound a faint static from the telephone line. He rarely called all his staff together, as most programmers hated meetings as much as he did. But it was vital that rumors be kept to a minimum and the only way to do that was to make sure everyone had the same information and from an accurate source.
“I want to reassure you all that I am still in full control of the company. When I founded IWC Security, it was just David and me. Now we have over three hundred employees in six countries. I built this company. And it will be an encryption-free day on the Darknet before I let someone else take over. However, for the next two months I will be working on an important project away from the office. When it’s done, I’ll be back. In the meantime, I’m delegating the day-to-day management of the company to the Chief Operating Officer, Cal Johnson. David Winston, as Director of Technical Operations, will remain your go-to guy for programming issues. Are there any questions?”
“Does this means we won’t be getting emails from you at four in the morning telling us to fix a vulnerability only you could have found? Can I finally sleep through the night?” someone at the back of the room joked.
“I wouldn’t count on it. I’ll still be hands-on with client systems.” His reply was met with a few groans and some nervous laughter. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his staff, but the core technical work was likely the only thing to keep him sane in the next couple of weeks.
He answered a few more questions about general office management, then called the meeting to a close. As the staff filed out, David sauntered over to him.
“Let’s get down to the important questions. Am I going to have to eat my sister’s cooking?” David made a gagging motion and clutched his stomach.
Liam had eaten a dinner Helen had prepared once. It wasn’t something he’d willingly do a second time. “I’m giving up the commute to the office and the endless meetings, not my personal chef.” He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of meetings, I’ve got two more before I’m done for the day. I’ll see you at home.” He strode from the room and back toward his corner office.
…
Three hours later, Liam unlocked the door to his apartment and hung his raincoat on the stand. Kicking off his wet shoes, he grabbed a handful of peanut M&M’s from the bowl on the entryway table before heading into the kitchen. David was already perched on a barstool, chatting with Jason, the cook.
David poured a measure of whiskey from the bottle next to him and slid the tumbler toward Liam. “How’d the Board take your announcement?”
Liam took a swig of the whiskey, letting the warmth ease his tension. “Not well. That’s one thing I won’t miss. Meetings are hell.” The Board had quizzed him endlessly on the nature of the “special project” he would be working on. Until he reminded them he held the majority of the company shares and he was informing them of his temporary leave, not asking their permission. Their concerns were valid. They probably worried he was dealing with a medical issue that could potentially impact the profit margin. He could only imagine their reaction if he told them he was taking a break to write his brother’s book.
He leaned against the counter and watched Jason stir a white sauce. The aroma of the cooking was heavenly. He’d existed mostly on takeout or microwave dinners until he’d stopped one day to talk to Jason, who was living on the street outside his building. Liam had invited the young homeless man for a burger and discovered he’d trained in culinary arts. Unfortunately, Jason had turned to drugs to cope with the long hours and exhausting work in the kitchen of one of the city’s top hotels. Within six months he’d lost his job, his apartment, and his self-respect.
Liam had paid for Jason to go into a private rehab clinic on the promise he’d then work as his personal chef. David and his sister often came over, and the four of them ate gourmet meals in the comfort of his home.
Although David and his sister Helen had their own apartment across the hall, they spent more time at Liam’s place than their own. Especially now with Marcus gone, Liam was happy he didn’t have to spend too much time in an empty apartment.
“How long till we eat, Jason?” Liam slung back the last of his whiskey and put the glass on the counter with a clunk.
“About twenty minutes. Will Helen be joining us?” Jason’s voice softened on David’s sister’s name and Liam shot him a look. Was his chef falling for his best friend’s sister? Maybe he could observe their romance and save himself the effort. As soon as the thought crossed his mind he heard Marcus’s voice saying the experience had to be personal.
“Not tonight. She’s working late,” David said. “Hey, I wanted to ask if you arranged that whole ‘knocking the drink out of your future girlfriend’s hand’?”
“You should know by now I don’t leave things to chance. I wanted to see her up close. So I called ahead and when I preordered our coffees I told the barista to make a second one for the woman I indicated. Hundred bucks goes a long way at a coffee shop. My secretary got her brother to play the bumbling fool.”
“Sweet.”
“As it’s just us men for dinner, I need some advice on how to be a regular guy. First, though, I’m going to take a shower.” Liam tossed back another handful of M&M’s and headed for his bedroom.
“Regular guys don’t drive Aston Martins or Maseratis,” David said as Liam stepped out of the kitchen.
He whirled around. “Shit. I hadn’t thought of that. What should I drive?”
“A Ford. Or Toyota Corolla.” An evil laugh followed David’s words.
“Or if you’re an environmentally conscious regular guy, then drive a Prius,” Jason said.
“Now you’re being cruel,” Liam said with a shudder.
“Welcome to your new hell.”
David’s words rang in his ears as Liam stomped off to his bedroom.
Chapter Two
Lorelei rubbed her hands over her eyes and tried to focus on the event plan. It was so much easier in Buffalo where she knew everyone with money—what they liked and disliked, and how much cash they could expect to part with at a gala fundraiser. Here, every selection was a gamble and the success or failure of the evening rested on research, gossip, and blind luck.
Lorelei’s office door creaked open and her assistant appeared. Mandy had two steaming cups of coffee in one hand and four huge files clutched to her chest. Lorelei hurried around the desk to relieve Mandy of the burden.
Her vivacious assistant had also become her first friend in San Francisco. It was impossible to resist Mandy’s charm and outgoing personality. They had a lot in common, both having Mexican mothers and American fathers. But in contrast to Lorelei, Mandy wore bright, vivid clothes. And her red lipstick left a crimson stain on her coffee cup, making it easy to distinguish from Lorelei’s.
“How’s it going?” Mandy gestured at the plan.
“Not bad. I’ve decided on the decorations, menu, and entertainment. I’m just waiting for the list of attendees from the Fundraising Department. I wish we knew how much we could expect to make out of this dinner. Why hasn’t the charity hosted one of these here before?”
“Dustin prefers to concentrate fundraising efforts at the family level. We do a lot of smaller events, a booth at local sporting activities, that sort of thing. This would be too much work for him.”
Organizing an elaborate dinner took a lot of effort, but fortunately it was something Lorelei was good at. She’d put on two themed dinners a year in Buffalo and they’d become society’s must-attend events. Of course there she’d had half a year to prepare, not a measly six weeks. And back east she knew exactly how much people could be expected to donate. With no past galas to base an estimate on, it was anyone’s guess how much they could hope to make here. If she wasn’t careful, she could spend way too much and wind up losing money.
A new email notification flashed up on Lorelei’s computer. As it was from Dustin, the Director of Fundraising, she opened it. “So far there are about one hundred who’ve RSVP’d that they’re coming,” she informed Mandy. “Dustin’s going to give me the official list of names a couple of days before the dinner. It would be so much easier if he told us who was coming instead of who’s declined. Evidently, IWC Security sent a donation but isn’t going to send anyone. While it’s great to get the money, it’s better to get a butt in a chair. Then they participate in the silent auctions and generally give more once they’ve seen the work we do. Who heads up that company? Maybe if I contacted them personally we could get someone to come?”
She held back a sigh. Dustin had been a pain in ass since she’d started. And he definitely hadn’t been happy when the charity’s Chairman had called telling them to hold a gala dinner within six weeks of her arrival. Dustin had insisted on sending out the invitations and controlling the guest list, but refused to discuss with her any other arrangements, saying it was her job to plan the event, his job to get people to show up.
Mandy pulled up the IWC Security website on Lorelei’s laptop. “Some guy named William Manning is the CEO and Chairman. Must be a real uggo—there’s not even a photo of him on his own company website.” She surfed a couple more sites. “This gossip site says he was seen with a model named Iliana a year ago, but again there’s no picture,” Mandy said.
“An uggo who dates supermodels? He must have a huge—”
“—bank account,” they both said at once before dissolving into fits of laughter.
Two minutes later Lorelei wiped her eyes; the good laugh had helped ease some of the tension. “As they’ve already sent a donation I guess we’ll leave it for this time. Dustin would probably flip his lid if I went behind his back. We’ll just have to work with what we’ve got.”
“I think he’s intimidated by you. He’s not very good at his job. Rumor has it he’s somehow related to the Chairman and that’s the only reason he’s still here. When he heard Head Office was appointing an Event Director he lost it. He started spreading rumors about you even before you arrived.” Mandy flushed a little and Lorelei could tell she wanted to ask if the story was true.
“What kind of rumors?” Lorelei held her breath.
“Oh, something about you getting the job here because you had to leave Buffalo. Evidently you were caught sleeping with some other woman’s husband and the charity was afraid your reputation would damage their image.”
Lorelei’s stomach sank to her knees. The whole office knew. No wonder the staff had looked at her strangely. She knew the Fundraising Department hadn’t been pleased at her appointment, considering her job part of their remit. But to be labeled a home-wrecker as well…
“Having spent the last four weeks working with you,” Mandy said, “I have to say, you don’t seem the type to have an affair with a married man.”
“I’m not. I had no idea Barry was married. I thought we were on our way to wedded bliss. We’d dated for almost a year and I never once suspected. In hindsight I can see the signs—we only went out on weekdays and only to small restaurants nowhere near where either of us worked. He only gave me his cell number and we always went back to my place—he said his apartment was too far away. He was such a charmer, he made everything sound believable.” She’d always been too trusting, always thinking the best of people. That, plus her crushing need to be loved, had blinded her to Barry’s real situation.
“How’d you find out?”
“My mom sprained her ankle one Saturday night and I took her to the ER. Barry was sitting there with his wife and three-year-old boy who’d shoved a marble up his nose.”
“The dog!”
“Well, that wasn’t what I called him. And after my little tirade, his wife added a few more names I’d never even thought of, and my mother would have slapped me silly if I’d said them in public.”
“How’d the big cheese find out?”
“Barry’s wife made a complaint to the charity, threatened to go public if they didn’t do something about me. It wasn’t really grounds for dismissal but the Chairman felt it would be better if I stepped out of the limelight as he called it, for a period of time.”
“So you got shipped out here.”
“Yeah. I had no idea about the dynamics of the office here. Dustin is sure not happy to see me.”
“No, but the rest of us are. It’s time things got a shake-up around here. And I for one will be ecstatic if I don’t have to attend another Little League baseball game. Fancy dinners are much more my scene. Hey, can I expense my shoes and dresses?”
“Unfortunately, we don’t have our own budget yet and have to get all expenses approved by Fundraising. I’ve already had a run-in with Dustin about the cost of the flowers. Can you believe he actually asked if we could use plastic ones? And what’s with not giving us the guest list until two days before the event?”
Mandy’s laugh rang through the office. “I think he’s paranoid. He guards his contact list like it’s a state secret. Only he and his secretary have access to it. I was more than happy to leave his department. I like working with you—coming to work is fun again.”
“Same here. You’ve made the transition from Buffalo so much easier. Speaking of transitions, any news on your fiancé’s visa?”
“No, nothing yet. It’s been almost a year.” Mandy twirled the small diamond ring on her left hand.
“I never got a chance to ask, how’d you two meet?”
“I’d broken up with my last dog boyfriend and decided to treat myself to a holiday in Italy. I’ve always wanted to go there. So I sold my car and off I went for two weeks. I met Antonio on my first night in Rome and we’ve been in love ever since.”
“Don’t you worry he’s just after a green card?”
“No. We’re in love. I can tell.”
Díos mío, was that how I sounded when I was dating Barry? She’d been a complete idiot to trust him, so desperate to be in a relationship that she’d been a blind fool. It was a good thing she was better at her job than choosing men. Although…
“Do you think I’ve been set up to fail?” Lorelei asked the question that had been bugging her since she’d taken the call from the charity’s Chairman instructing her to hold a gala fundraising dinner.
“I don’t know. We’ve never raised a million dollars in six months before, never mind one night. Another rumor I heard is that Head Office is looking to consolidate and the San Fran branch might be disbanded with everything run out of L.A.”
The sinking feeling in Lorelei’s stomach doubled. If this event flopped, she’d be taking the blame. And now she not only had her job on the line, but the entire staff’s. “Well, then we’re going to make this an epic night. All of San Francisco will hear about it and be begging to come to our next one,” she said with more confidence than she felt.
Two hours later, Mandy tapped the table with her crimson fingernails. “I think this is going to be spectacular. Now if Dustin can fill the place, the guests will be so amazed the money will leap out of their wallets. Shall we go get a drink to celebrate?”
“I can’t tonight. I have a date.”
“Wow, you go, girl. Not even in the city a month and you’ve already met someone.”
“We haven’t really met. My mom, who is the Supreme Ruler of Interfering Mothers, signed me up with an Internet dating site. There was actually one guy who seemed a bit interesting. He’s an architect who’s traveled the world and now wants to share his life and love of travel with the right woman.”
“Is that your dream? To travel the world?”
“Actually, my dreams are bit more home-based. Ever since I was a little girl I’ve wanted a big family. I had ten dolls I used to call my babies. I took those dolls everywhere. It was quite a sight.”
“You can’t want ten children! That’s barbaric.”
“I’d settle for four or five now. Of course, my mother keeps reminding me I’ve left things rather late.”
“Do you have lots of brothers and sisters?”
“No, it was only me and my mom. My dad…well…he wasn’t around. I do have tons of cousins—one of my aunts had eight kids. I was so jealous. They were always laughing and yelling. It was so quiet at my house. I wanted brothers and sisters to play and fight with.”
“Well, there are ways these days to do that without a man.”
“No, I want the whole deal—loving husband, lots of noisy children. If that makes me a Neanderthal then I’ll be the one hanging out with the dodos.” She stared at her desk to avoid the pity she was sure was written on her friend’s face. In this age when women were striving for equality in the corporate world she felt like a sellout wanting to be a stay-at-home mom caring for her husband and children.
“So where are you meeting your Internet date?” Mandy’s voice broke through her reverie.
“At that bar you told me about on Montgomery Street.” Lorelei took another sip of now-cold coffee, hoping to drown the butterflies dancing around in her stomach. She was always nervous before going on a first date. Usually, though, she’d at least met the man in person or he’d been recommended by a friend.
“Want me to come along as protection?”
“No, I’ll be all right. The place will be crowded on a Friday night. If I think he’s dangerous I’ll ask for help.”
“It’s the ones who seem normal who kill you in the shower,” Mandy said.
“Gee, thanks.” At least if she were dead she wouldn’t have to preside over a disastrous charity event that was sure to not only get her fired, but cost the entire San Francisco office staff their jobs. No pressure.
…
“Yo, Liam! You home?” David’s voice called out from the front of the house.
I have got to take his keys away before he barges in at an inopportune time. He’d given David a set of keys in case of emergency, but his friend had become so accustomed to coming over, he now let himself in and out any time of day or night.
“Yeah, I’m home. Be right out,” he said from the bedroom.
Liam glanced once more in the full-length mirror. The face that stared back was alien. Were these the features his mother hated? According to rumor, he was the spitting image of the father whose name he didn’t even know. As a child, seeing his face every day had reminded his mother of her stupidity in throwing away her marriage to Marcus’s father for an ill-fated affair with a man who loved only himself.
When he’d been little, he’d gotten through the pain of being hated by his own mother by imagining he’d been kidnapped as a baby and was being raised by a wicked stepmom. Every time they’d gone to the grocery store he’d scour the milk cartons to see if any of the missing children looked like him.
When the first whisker had appeared he’d never shaved it off in the vain hope his mother would realize he was not his father. But by then her indifference had been insurmountable, no matter what he did to try to please her. Now, however, it meant there would be no chance of anyone recognizing the new Liam as the reclusive billionaire with a penchant for Eastern European supermodels.
Grabbing his leather jacket from the bed, he wandered out to the main room. He could hear David rummaging around in the kitchen.
“Jason has the night off and I’m going out,” Liam said. David stared forlornly at the empty stove.
“Are there any leftovers from last night?” David opened the fridge door and stuck his head inside.
“Probably.” Liam leaned against the doorframe.
David eventually emerged from the fridge with two large plastic containers in his hand. As he turned and caught sight of Liam, his mouth flopped open and he dropped the food on the floor. A chicken drumstick rolled to a stop against Liam’s foot.
“What the hell?”
“That bad?” Liam glanced down at his clothes. He usually wore either a custom-made suit or jeans and a T-shirt. The salesclerk at the mall insisted that chinos and a button-down shirt with the leather jacket had regular guy written all over them.
David stepped over the mess on the floor and scrutinized Liam up close before retreating. “I can see now why you grew the beard. You’re broken.”
“Excuse me?” Liam ran a hand over his now-bare chin and cheeks. The smooth skin felt weird under his fingers.
“You’ve got a dent in your chin and a hole in your left cheek as well, definite defects. When this is over you’d better grow the facial hair back as soon as possible.”
“Thanks.”
“Damn, man, you’re wearing makeup.”
“I’ve got a bit of color on because the newly shaved areas are whiter than the rest of my face. I don’t want to look like I’ve just changed my whole appearance,” Liam said.
“But you have.”
David’s stare was becoming uncomfortable.
“Yes, but I don’t want to look like I have. She might think I’ve recently been released from prison or something.”
“Or the mental hospital. This is a completely asinine idea.”
“You think I don’t know that? But I promised Marcus and I have to give it a shot. As my friend, you should support me.”
“My mom always told me if all my friends were going to jump off a bridge I shouldn’t join them. Except that one time when I cracked the bank’s security system and the cops showed up at the door. Then she was actively encouraging it.”
“I’m not jumping from any bridge. I’m hijacking a date, that’s all.”
“Right. Now this is the bit of the plan that confuses me.”
Liam perched on a stool while David rummaged under the sink for something to clean the floor.
“I went back into the dating site. Lorelei has arranged a date with some architect for tonight at a wine bar in the Financial District. He’s not going to show up. I am.”
“How did you arrange that? You haven’t had him kidnapped, have you?” David asked.
“What kind of person do you think I am? I simply sent him a message from Lorelei’s account saying she had to work late and she’d contact him next week to rearrange. Then I deleted her profile and reimbursed the subscription fees.”
“Why did you choose this girl again? Aside from the fact that she’s gorgeous?”
“Because she’s new to the area. Apparently she has no relatives here so I won’t have to get involved with her family.” Liam popped a handful of M&M’s in his mouth.
“Sweet. What about the guy whose place you’re taking?”
“He’s a loser. Already been married three times and his divorce isn’t even final from his last wife. I’m saving Lorelei from him.”
“If thinking that makes you feel better.”
“It doesn’t, okay? Just drop it. I promised Marcus I’d finish his book and I’m going to do it, no matter the cost.”
“The cost to you? Or others?”
Liam stood abruptly, knocking the stool over backward. Before he could pick it up the door opened again.
Who now?
“How many people have keys to my place? I’ve got half a million bucks worth of computer equipment here.”
“It’s probably Helen. I made her a copy.”
“You gave your sister a key? I’m gonna change the locks,” Liam grumbled.
“Hi guys, I made some cookies. Thought I’d share,” Helen said as she walked into the kitchen. She wore bright-pink oven mitts and carried a metal tray with black blobs welded onto the surface. When her eyes flickered to Liam she dropped the tray, which clattered to the floor. Two of the black blobs managed to free themselves and shattered into a million fragments.
“You’re the second person to drop something when they’ve seen me. Is it really that bad?”
“No, no, it’s good, it’s very, very good,” Helen said, breathless. She bent down to sweep up the crumbs on the floor with her hand, her eyes never leaving Liam’s face.
“You’re making more of a mess, Helen,” David said, a note of exasperation in his voice. He picked up the tray and tossed it into the sink, then crossed to the closet across the room and retrieved the broom.
Still Helen stared at Liam.
“So, I need some advice on how to approach Lorelei,” Liam said.
“Tell her she’s too beautiful to sit alone,” David said as he emptied the dustpan into the garbage.
Liam grimaced. No wonder David hadn’t had a date in all the years he’d known him.
“I don’t think you need to say anything,” Helen said. Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Excuse me, I think I left the oven on.” She raced from the room, both Liam and David staring after her.
“Women are crazy. Are you sure you want to get involved with one?” David said as the door slammed behind Helen.
He picked up the jacket from the stool next to him and shrugged into it. “I’m not getting involved. Not really, anyway. Make sure you lock up and put the alarm on when you’ve finished trashing my kitchen. And leave a note telling Jason you made the mess. I’m not taking the rap for it.”
With another handful of M&M’s for good luck, Liam strode out the door. Time to put the first act in motion.
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