Never Yours: A Billionaire Romance

by Lucy Lambert

  “Oh,” I said. I hoped it sounded calm. I hoped that all the blood didn’t drain from my face, even though that was what it felt like was happening.

  A guy like Neil expected a woman. A lady. Not some girl who gobbled down her food so fast that she got some of it on her face.

  I went stiff, as though my spine switched from bone to solid steel.

  This is another reason I hate dating so much! Why can’t I just be me around these guys, rather than the girl I think they think they want?

  “It’s okay,” Neil said, “I saved a tissue from the hotdogs. Hold still.”

  “What...?” I started. Holding still wasn’t a problem. I was a better human statue than those guys who painted themselves silver and spent their days in the park.

  He wiped the smudge of mustard away from the corner of my mouth, balled the tissue up, and tossed it into the bin by the curb.

  “I could have done that myself, you know,” I said.

  “I do,” he replied, “Except then we’d have to play the game of, ‘Did I get it?’ ‘Is it still there?’ ‘How about now?’ So I saved us both the time.”

  Part of me wanted to argue further, even though the rest of me knew he was right. Instead, we stepped closer to the curb and he held out a hand.

  Two yellow cabs broke off from the flock. The one closest to the curb arrived first and there was a brief but colorful altercation between the two drivers while they leaned out their windows and yelled at each other, arms waving the whole time.

  “What is it?” Neil said.

  I noticed him looking at me. The argument distracted me, and I wondered how long I’d stood on the curb.

  Feeling his eyes on me like that sent warm squiggles down my back and up my stomach.

  “It’s nothing. It’s silly,” I said.

  “It’s enough to make you smile. Let me in on it,” Neil said.

  I glanced away, then back at him. In spite of my internal protests, my smile widened. How could any woman not smile when a man like this looks at her?

  “Okay,” I relented, then nodded towards the still-arguing cabbies, “It’s just, sometimes New York is totally real. Just people going on with their lives. Then other times...”

  “It’s like a movie,” he finished for me.

  “Yeah,” I said, “Isn’t that silly?”

  “Not at all. After you,” Neil said.

  And like that, he solved the fight by opening the back door of the yellow Crown Victoria closest to the curb.

  He motioned for me to step in. While I did, the opposing cab driver waved two fingers, one on each hand, at us in another stereotypical New York fashion before hammering on the gas and speeding off down the street.

  Neil and I shared a look and another smile at that.

  It was a dangerous look and a deadly smile. In spite of my earlier thoughts on the matter, I liked being around him. I didn’t want to go back to work to finish off that analysis for Mr. Diehl.

  That was the exact moment I knew I was in trouble.

  It was also the moment I knew I didn’t care.

  “So,” I asked, “Where are you taking me now?”

  Without even really thinking about it, we sat close together, thighs touching. He was warm. Well, Neil was nothing short of hot; his thigh was warm against mine.

  “I think I’ll keep you in suspense on that,” Neil said.

  “Uh, pal?” The driver said, looking back over his shoulder at us through the plastic grill separating back seat from front, “You can keep her in suspense all you want, but I need to know where we’re headed.”

  “Gotcha there,” I said.

  Neil mimed clutching his chest again and we sniggered at that. The driver looked on, oblivious and bored.

  God, look at us. Insufferable inside jokes already and we haven’t even known each other a full hour.

  This is even worse than I thought.

  “Central Park,” Neil said around a smile, “As close to the lake as you can get.”

  The cab lurched back out into traffic, not so much taking a vacant spot but bullying one into existence. An identical yellow taxi behind us honked and flashed his lights. Our driver responded with a New York thank you, rolling his window down and waving that finger through the air a few times.

  Neil and I shared that look again. Another inside joke.

  I shook my head at this, “What am I going to do with you?”

  “You’ll have to wait and find out about that,” he replied.

  WEEKEND TRAFFIC WAS light. Light for Manhattan, at least. And we made pretty good time to the park.

  Evening verged heavily on the city. The towers on the east side of the park cast their long shadows, while those on the western side looked splashed in gold.

  There was a bit of a breeze by the lake. Enough so that the water wasn’t totally flat. The waning sunlight caught in the little peaks, giving them caps of gold as well.

  Neil led us closer to the water. And when he took my hand I didn’t object, didn’t yank it back. His palm was warm and dry against mine.

  I had enough time to fret about whether I had a sweaty palm. To wonder if maybe I could pull it back long enough to wipe it off on the inside of my pocket.

  We sat on a bench overlooking the lake.

  We weren’t the only people there, either. Another couple sat on a large rectangle of beach towel. A young kid and an old man stood on the bank of the lake, the old man pointing at a scale model remote control sailboat currently navigating the water.

  “Central Park at sunset?” I said.

  “Yes,” Neil said. He leaned back against the bench and let his eyes slide shut.

  I caught myself wondering how soft the skin of his eyelids might feel against my lips. A dangerous thought. One that I ignored.

  “It’s like an oasis in the middle of the city,” Neil continued. He opened his eyes and directed them at me, “Although I haven’t been here in a long time. Or taken anyone with me.”

  The heat of a blush encroached on my throat. It crept up farther the more I met his eyes with mine. So I pulled them away, instead watching the golden ripples of the sunset on the water, “I have a bit of a confession.”

  “Probably nothing you can’t absolve with half a dozen Hail Mary’s and a couple Our Fathers thrown in for luck,” he said.

  I bit my lip to keep from smiling too much. When the urge went away, I released it so I could speak.

  “I actually haven’t been to the park since sophomore year of college. Actually, I haven’t really seen most of the tourist-y spots in the city. That’s pretty lame, huh?”

  I braced myself, waited for him to realize I wasn’t that interesting after all.

  In fact, I hoped he would. Neil was the sort of trouble Suze insisted I needed in my life, and exactly the kind of trouble I knew I couldn’t have. Not if I wanted to get where I wanted to go.

  “Good,” Neil said.

  “Er, what?” I blurted. I looked at him, forgetting the golden ripples on the water.

  “If I ever come up short on date ideas, I know now that I have a whole city full of them.” He winked at me, then gave me a nudge with his elbow.

  My mouth dropped open, part out of surprise, but mostly out of mock outrage.

  The jokes come so easily with him, I remarked. I didn’t want to think about what that could mean, though.

  “A bit presumptuous, aren’t we?” I said, “Already figuring on future dates? We haven’t even been out an hour! We haven’t even kissed yet!”

  “I can fix that second one right now,” Neil said.

  He put an arm around my shoulders and leaned in. My body realized what was happening before my mind. A shock of terror and excitement raced from my heart. My eyes hooded. My lips parted slightly.

  I caught a hint of his aftershave. Something earthy and pleasant. Masculine.

  My breath caught in the instant before our lips touched. His lips were soft and warm against mine. Insistent, yet gentle. There was the hint of st
ubble. A mingled breath.

  And then we parted.

  I looked away again, shell-shocked this time.

  I can’t believe he did that.

  “But the question is, did you like it?”

  I swallowed heavily, “Uh, did I just say that last bit out loud?”

  “You didn’t have to,” he replied.

  It was a great first kiss. Much better than pretty much any of the others I’d experienced.

  This is all going too well. Way, way too well. Next he’ll turn out to be rich and famous or something.

  “It was good. Nice,” I said.

  “Tell me more about you,” Neil broke in.

  As though he hadn’t just kissed me out of the blue right there on that bench by the lake.

  He knows it threw me off guard, and now he’s trying to put me at ease again.

  That was okay; I could work with that.

  Stalling for time, I took out my phone to give the clock a quick check. I noticed a text from Suze. Another from Lindsay.

  They were at Serendipity’s right then, I realized. Where I’d been planning on going before deciding on work. Before deciding on Neil.

  Serendipity indeed, I thought coyly.

  I did my best to compose myself, straightening my back and folding my hands on my lap. The breeze tugged that annoying bit of hair back down over my forehead and I swiped it back into place.

  “I have a bachelor’s from NYU and I work in marketing. I moved to New York for school and then my job. I’m from Buffalo, and that’s where most of my family is. Including my brother, who is definitely real and definitely the nerd of the family, not me. I rent a place in Bushwick that’s way too expensive for one person but I make it work anyway because I hate roommates. But I don’t have any cats so you don’t need to get out your crazy cat lady detector or anything...”

  “You don’t seem like the crazy cat lady sort. Nothing against crazy cat ladies, but I think you found something else to occupy your time,” Neil said. “At work on a Saturday? Either your boss hates you or you’re trying to prove a point.”

  “None of the first one, hopefully. Though I think the jury’s still out on my manager...” I said. I got the impression that Mr. Diehl was one of those old school types.

  You know the ones. The kind who think that yeah, sure, a woman can work in an office. So long as she’s just a secretary to a man doing the real job.

  I stole another look at Neil from the corner of my eye. It was easy talking to him. Actually, it felt like I could say anything to him. Like we’d known each other since junior high or something.

  It was too much.

  Are you really complaining that you’re date with the handsome guy with the nice smile is going well?

  And then: Yes. Yes, I am. I really don’t have time for this. I really don’t need it or him in my life right now.

  “What about you?” I said. I grabbed the lip of the bench with both hands and leaned forward so that I no longer sat with my back in the crook of his arm.

  “What about me?” Neil said, a hint of a smile playing across his lips.

  Nice lips. Lips that were nice to kiss. Lips that had kissed me...

  Get a hold of yourself! I squeezed the 2x4 bench board harder, the grain of the wood and the lacquer digging into my fingers.

  “You seem like the sort of guy used to asking questions and getting answers. How do you feel about giving some answers of your own?”

  “Depends on the question,” he said. He remained leaning back against the bench, as though it were the most comfortable spot between here and Brooklyn.

  “Same question, then. A taste of your own medicine. Tell me more about you.”

  His smile widened. He took his hand off the back of the bench and put it over his mouth, trying to hide the expression.

  “What? What’s so funny?” I said. I intended it to sound offended, but my own smile ruined the effect.

  He took his hand from his mouth, “Technically, that wasn’t a question. More of a command.”

  I slapped him on the thigh, “Thanks, professor. But fine, have it your way...” I straightened my back, put on a serious face, “I command you to tell me more about you.” Then I sketched a gesture in the air, wiggling my fingers.

  “...And now you’re a wizard,” Neil said.

  I cracked up at that. When I caught my breath I looked at him again. “Just tell me.”

  He nodded, more to himself than to me, I got the impression. For a moment, he watched the sail boats on the lake. Or maybe the little golden ripples on the water’s surface.

  That smile remained, but it softened, became more subtle.

  “I don’t have a college degree,” he began,” though most people believe I do, or that I have to have one. I’m from Connecticut. New Haven. No brothers or sisters that I know of. I also live by myself, though crazy cat lady does sound like a good option sometimes.”

  He’d answered the same questions I had when I gave my own little elevator pitch. Only fair, I supposed.

  But I wanted more.

  I started, but he reached out and took my hand, putting his fingers over mine and easing mine from their grip on the bench.

  Again, his hand was warm and dry. Again, I wondered if mine was sweaty.

  “Here’s the sunset,” he said, “How long has it been since you just watched one? I can’t remember the last time I did.”

  “I can’t remember, either.” I didn’t pull my hand back.

  I sat back against the bench. Bit by bit, I relaxed.

  It wasn’t hard. Being around Neil was easy. Effortless. I hadn’t felt like this around a guy since I couldn’t remember when.

  And I knew I definitely never felt that way around a guy I barely knew. That was crazy. I was crazy.

  And now was the exact wrong time for me to go crazy around or for a guy.

  Just get him out of your system. Work through this and then get back to what you know’s important.

  AFTER WE FINISHED WITH the sunset, we went to one of those hole-in-the-wall hipster coffee shops.

  This one was called Shot in the Dark, and their gimmick was literally sitting in a darkened café, a shot of Americano included with every order.

  I thought that the night would get worse. That maybe Neil would turn out to be like that first guy in a business suit the speed dating: nice at first, but then creepy.

  But he didn’t.

  Our feet touched beneath the bistro table and stayed touching.

  “I have another question for you,” Neil said.

  Here it comes. He’s going to ask if I’m down to “chill” after this. Or he’s going to ask if I’m ready to be done with beating around the bush. Or he’ll ask what the prize is if he correctly guesses my bra size...

  Those lewd points and a dozen more ran across my thoughts.

  And the thing was, I wanted him to say something like that. Something to give me an excuse to get away from him.

  Because I was still smiling about the joke he’d said when we came into this café. The server had come over to get their order, and he’d asked if we could also have a couple of flashlights.

  Then, when the server left, he’d leaned conspiratorially towards me and said, “That’s okay; they’re probably those kitschy kinetic ones anyway. You know, those ones you have to shake a bunch before you get any light.”

  Not a good joke, admittedly. But it cracked me up all the same.

  “Oh?” I said, “And what is this question?”

  “Why were you even at that speed dating thing, Rachel? You’re pretty. You’re smart. You’ve got a lot going for you. So why?”

  I was glad of the dimness of the café. It hid the blush that didn’t bother limiting itself to my cheeks.

  Why couldn’t he just ask my bra size?

  I downed my shot of watered down espresso. “It was my friends. They signed me up for it and I decided to go along with it so that they’d get off my back.”

  “About dating,” Nei
l said. It wasn’t a question. I sensed then that he knew the truth. Or a good chunk of it at least.

  I took a deep breath and then sighed it out. I’d really been hoping he would just morph into another thirsty frat boy so I could dump him and be done with it.

  I hated confrontation, did everything I could to avoid it. I lost a whole string of Barbie dolls to my brother’s antics as a child because, even though I knew he took them to melt with a magnifying glass in the backyard, I couldn’t stand the thought of confronting him about it.

  I forged ahead anyway. I was a grown woman now, after all. I should treat it like a Band-Aid and just pull it off.

  So I gathered myself as best as I could. Again, I was glad of the darkness. It (hopefully) hid the way I trembled. The way I couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

  “Yes, about dating. They all think I should have a boyfriend. That I need to date more and get out more. But I’m just at a really important point in my career right now. I know that if I keep pushing a while longer, I’ll get where I want to be... and that means I don’t really have time for dating or for guys. Sorry.”

  I braced myself. For what, I didn’t exactly know. Just that I didn’t expect him to take what I hoped was that gentle letdown well. If my blessedly brief forays into online dating were any indicator, most men were too fragile to take any sort of rejection, no matter how gentle or well-reasoned.

  “Don’t be sorry,” Neil said, “Not for pushing yourself.”

  “Why were you there? At the dating thing,” I said.

  “To meet you, I think.”

  I couldn’t take this anymore. I stood up suddenly. My chair, an uncomfortable but undoubtedly expensive piece of bespoke wrought iron, clattered back across the tiled floor.

  Instantly, every eye in the room was on me.

  I followed the lights back out to the street, opening the door and letting New York wash over me again. The honk of horns and the squeal of brakes. The ever-present aromas of gas and diesel fumes.

  I started down the sidewalk.

  Why did I do this? Why did I agree to this? I’m going to kill you, Suze!

  I didn’t get far down the sidewalk before Neil caught up to me. He came to a stop in front of me, his eyes searching mine.

  “What was that?” he said.