Just Friends: A Summer Fling With A Billionaire Heir

by Cynthia Dane

  “Naturally.” Bailey tucked her clutch beneath her arm. She certainly looked ready to go. “How far is your place from here? What kind of view does it have?”

  “Three blocks away.” Zack snorted. “Why do you want to know about the view?”

  “Because,” Bailey slowly walked past him, making sure he had a grand view of her ass sashaying back and forth in her dress, “I want to know what I’m looking at when you take me from behind with those nice thighs of yours.”

  Zack let out a low whistle.

  Chapter 14

  “I knew a man like you had a good view around these parts,” Bailey said upon entering Zack’s apartment. “Look at that. The marina.”

  “Perfect for looking at while other things are going on.” Zack couldn’t be droller if he tried. He tossed his wallet and keys onto the table before showing Bailey into the living room. She went straight to the floor-to-ceiling windows and grinned at the twinkling lights of the city and marina below them. “Want something to drink?”

  “Water, thanks.”

  Zack pulled two cups down from the kitchen cupboards and filled both with filtered tap water. It was either the personal chef who stopped by once a week or the housekeeper who kept filling his fridge with brand-name bottled water, but the only time Zack bothered with those garbage-destined wastes of plastic was when he was heading out and needed bottled water anyway. He wasn’t about to offer one to a guest in his own home. Not when he paid for the best filtered tap water in the city!

  Anything good enough for him was good enough for Bailey, anyway.

  “So what do you do, Zack?” She accepted the water with batting eyelashes.

  Damn. Normally I wouldn’t be able to control myself. Once they were in his apartment, the first thing on Zack’s mind was ripping his guest’s clothes off. Too bad every time he thought about ripping off Bailey’s dress he imagined Rachel’s disgusted face. I drank too much too. It’s making me sleepy. He had mostly sobered up already, but that effect was still there. Not bad enough to keep me from getting it up, but… what’s the point?

  Bailey caught his gaze. “You were going to tell me what you do for a living, yes? Someone with a nice apartment like this… bet you do something pretty special.”

  “I’m an artist.”

  “An artist?” Her eyes widened in surprise.

  “Yup. Don’t do too bad for myself.”

  “I see that.”

  Good. She had bought his day job. There were some women who insisted he couldn’t have possibly afforded this as an artist. First of all, Zachary Feldman was successful enough as an artist that he totally could… eventually. Second of all, he was uncomfortable talking about his family fortune with women who didn’t immediately recognize him. Women he picked up in bars and at clubs rarely knew who he was, unless they had a photographic memory and read the tabloids every day.

  “Does this mean you want me to take off my clothes and model for you?”

  “Why? Do you want to do that?”

  She giggled. “Maybe.”

  “Too bad. I’m too tired for that tonight. Maybe if I like what I see…”

  Zack was following the script. Because the more he thought about sleeping with Bailey, the more unappealing it became. Shit. And she made it into my apartment. This rarely happened. Having a woman in his apartment that he didn’t want to sleep with, anyway.

  But his script had all these wonderfully seductive zingers that were good at getting women out of their clothes and under his body. My three happy places are in my studio, on the water, and between a woman’s legs. That last one was becoming more disagreeable as of late, however, and he couldn’t figure out why.

  He had hoped that bringing Bailey home would rejuvenate him. More like the opposite.

  Damn you, Rachel. He was obsessing over her. It wasn’t just her turning him down. Honestly, it’s not. I’ve been turned down before and quickly moved on. It was her ongoing presence. Getting to know her on a deeper level. Damnit, it had only been two or three weeks, and he was considering her one of his closest friends. How did that happen?

  Could he help how well they got along? How much chemistry they had? That kiss… it had nearly knocked him off his ass. Sunday morning he woke up thinking about Rachel in his arms, and remained eternally glad that she hadn’t been awake enough to notice how happy he was beneath that tent he pitched.

  Fuck. They were accelerating much too quickly… and yet not at all!

  Zack needed to get out of this. Now.

  He woke up his phone and pretended to find a message. “Oh, damn,” he murmured. “It’s my dad.”

  Bailey held her clutch closer to her chest. “That so?”

  “Shit. Yeah. He’s got really bad diabetes and is apparently heading to the ER.”

  “Oh my God!”

  “Oh, yeah, he’ll be fine, but I really should go over there to help take care of things.”

  Bailey reached into her clutch and pulled out her phone. “Tell you what, Zack. Give me your number and we’ll raincheck.”

  “Sounds good.”

  They swapped numbers before Zack showed Bailey out. “Tell the concierge that you need a ride home and they’ll put it on my tab. No worries.”

  Zack was soon alone again. Alone in his big, quiet apartment.

  His lonely apartment.

  After a quick shower, he flopped down on his bed and checked his phone. There was a flirty confirmation from Bailey that she had received his number. Oh, and she wished his father well, too.

  Then there was a text from Rachel.

  “Got home safe. Have fun.”

  Zack opened the reply box. But what the hell could he say? “I told her to leave because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” “I’d rather be with you right now, Rachel.” “Nothing happened. Don’t feel well. Have a nice night.” Yeah, that one would have to do.

  Rachel didn’t respond.

  ***

  “Thank you for signing off on this, Ms. Taylor,” the health director from Rachel’s mother’s nursing home said. “I know it’s a big inconvenience, but we really do think that putting your mother back on an anti-depressant will make it easier for you to come visit her again.”

  Rachel sighed over her breakfast. Breakfast at noon, no less. Slept in because I’m a little hungover. Or at least I think I am. Rachel had never been hungover before. Was this what it felt like? Massive headache and a terrible disdain for the world? Sounded about right. “No problem. Thank you for letting me know.”

  Of course, Rachel had power of attorney over her mother. So whatever they wanted to do with her medications, they had to go through Rachel first. Even better if she could stop by the memory care facility, but that hadn’t been possible recently.

  Because she cries herself into oblivion every time she sees me. And Rachel cried too, because her mother had lost a hundred pounds and was barely recognizable these days.

  “By the way, we really need to talk about her upcoming quarterly payments…”

  “I already went over this with your general director. Her insurance is supposed to take care of it.”

  “I know, Ms. Taylor, but…”

  “I’ll call them again and see if they can’t speed up the process a little bit.” She hung up. The last thing she wanted to talk about was financials. Between rent, student loans, and paying her mother’s exorbitant rent at the memory care facility… bah. It was a miracle she could even afford to eat.

  Zack would be able to afford all of this. Rachel’s job barely covered her expenses. She overdrafted more than once, which was horrifying when she had so many loan payments and could barely keep track of them. Consolidating hadn’t worked out for her. That’s what happened when most of her loans were private.

  Zack…

  He had claimed that nothing happened with Bailey because he was too tired. Rachel wasn’t sure if she believed him. And even if she did… what was the point when she kept thinking about him?

  Her phone rang agai
n. At first, she assumed it was the medications director calling her back to chew her out. But that wasn’t the facility’s number on her screen.

  It was Sita’s.

  “Hey!” That voice was way too cheery for Rachel’s hungover brain. “Good afternoon, Rachel! This is Super Bride Sita checking in!”

  Rachel forced herself to smile into her oatmeal. “What’s up?” Sita rarely called her. After all, Rachel was friends with Parvati first and foremost. The cool sister came with the territory.

  “Doing the last version of the guest list for my wedding. Are you still coming?”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t miss a good Indian wedding for the world.”

  “That’s the spirit. Now, how about your +1? I need a final count for the caterer.”

  “I thought your aunt was catering straight out of her kitchen.”

  “Yes, and she needs to know how many people to overplan for.”

  Rachel laughed. “I didn’t have any plans to bring anyone. Probably coming stag.”

  “Really? You’re not going to bring Zack?”

  She slumped in her chair. “Can’t say I’ve asked him. He’ll probably be busy that day.”

  “Oh…” Sita lowered her voice, disappointed. “I thought that you two were going out?”

  The corner of Rachel’s mouth twitched. “Is that what your sister told you?”

  “Well… she didn’t say otherwise.”

  “We’re not going out. We’re just friends.”

  “Really! Friends with a hot guy like that?”

  “I’m starting to think that it’s you who wants me to bring him.”

  “I’m not going to say no to more man candy at my wedding. Although he’ll have to be willing to put up with my extended family from India. And my fiancé’s extended family. The aunties especially would love him. On second thought? Don’t bring him. He’ll steal my show!”

  They laughed, although it made Rachel’s head throb. “I’ll see if he wants to go. Otherwise, I plan on flying solo at your wedding.”

  “All right. Thanks for amusing me. I’ve got a whole list of people to go through so I’ll talk to you later!”

  Rachel hung up. Taking Zack to a traditional Indian wedding? It would be better than taking him to a traditional American wedding, at least. Zack seemed the type to enjoy a good, colorful party with a ton of dancing and enough food to feed a village.

  Sita was right, though. Whether he intended to or not, he would probably steal the show from the bride and groom. There would be other non-Indians there, but Zack would stick out with his rugged good looks and oozing charm.

  Or maybe that was how Rachel looked at him. Did he really tell that blond woman to go home last night? Did he really sleep alone? She couldn’t believe it. Zack wasn’t shy about sleeping around with different women. Hell, he had been so casual about asking Rachel out that she didn’t doubt he only thought of her as a fling!

  So what did that make them now?

  They were friends, yes, but what good was it if it was never meant to be?

  Ha. Sounds like we’re a real couple when I put it like that. Rachel needed to go back to sleep. She couldn’t finish this oatmeal, anyway.

  Chapter 15

  “Rachel Taylor!” Zack called up to her apartment window Friday afternoon. “Get down here and cling to me right now!”

  He revved up his motorcycle to send the point home. And to scare half the neighborhood to death. Everyone but the old man nodding at him in approval. “Nice model!” his gravelly voice called over the motor.

  Zack saluted him before looking back up at Rachel’s window. “I know you’re up there!”

  Two minutes later, she threw open her apartment window and gazed down upon him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  He held up his spare helmet. “Whisking you away on my bike.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a beautiful day and the lake calls to me. Get down here and let me spoil you!”

  “You’re nuts!”

  Zack lowered the helmet again. “Would you at least come down here? I look like a damn fool and somebody’s going to call the cops.”

  “You’d deserve it, weirdo!”

  Nevertheless, she was down on the sidewalk within a few minutes, her hair piled on top of her head as she stood before him in a pair of old, worn jeans and a raggedy band T-shirt that barely accentuated her nice figure. Just as well. I don’t need the temptations.

  Temptations! Like the ones he had every day for the past week? Zack had already made a fool of himself every time he woke up or stayed in the shower too long. The last straw was that morning when he took matters into his own hands, so to speak. Oh, sure, he was into recreational self-touch like any other man – on a daily basis, no less – but there was a huge difference between generic fantasies and specifically thinking about one woman who drove him nuts.

  The latter didn’t happen that often.

  Zack needed to get out of town for a few hours. There was a lake not too far away that was peaceful enough to calm his soul and beautiful enough to inspire his artistic side. But as he prepared to take off that afternoon, all he could think about was taking someone along with him. Specifically, Rachel.

  The same woman who looked at him as if he were insane.

  “Well?” He held the helmet out to her. “You gonna get on my bike or not?”

  “You totally would have a motorcycle, wouldn’t you?”

  “What’s wrong with it? You got something against bikes?”

  “No. I’ve never ridden on one, though.”

  “Eh, you need a jacket – I’ve got a spare, by the way – but otherwise you’re totally ready to go. Come on. We’re going to the lake. You and me.”

  And doing what?”

  Zack lowered his sunglasses. “Whatever we feel like.”

  She studied him for a few more seconds, her face contorting between disbelief and sweet curiosity. She totally wants to do it. No woman can resist me when I’m on a bike. That included women he was strictly platonic with.

  Maybe. In all honesty, the only woman he had platonically taken along for a ride was his brother’s girlfriend. And that was because it had always been a dream of hers. One ride was enough. She was practically crying afterward, and Daniel was ready to punch me for daring to do that without his knowledge. Was that really three years ago? Damn. Time flew by.

  “I don’t know…” Rachel took a step back. “This is a little sudden. I’ve got work to do. Work that I haven’t been good about doing ever since you came into my life.”

  “Pfft. Work. I’m blowing that off too.” He was supposed to be working on that marble sculpture. Nope. Wasn’t happening.

  “Yeah, but I’m a bit more reliant on my income.”

  Oooh, she went there. “Tell you what.” Zack shoved the helmet into her hands. “If you end up getting screwed because you chose to hang out with me and clear your mind instead of working, I’ll take care of it.”

  “That’s…”

  “Non-negotiable.”

  “Fine.” She snatched the helmet, only to give it right back to him. “Let me go organize a few things and maybe lock my front door and I’ll be right back down. Five minutes.”

  “Right. You’ve got five minutes.” Zack squeezed the handlebars. “Then I’m personally coming up to carry you away.”

  She bit her bottom lip as if that thought appealed to her. Don’t do that to me, Rachel. Good thing Zack had his sunglasses on. He wasn’t in the mood to betray what he really thought of her. Especially when she turned around and showed him that ass in her tight jeans.

  When Rachel returned, it was with a small bag strapped across her chest and her own sweatshirt draped over her torso. Everything was left up to the imagination. Just as well. “Okay. How do I ride one of these things?”

  “First, you get behind me. Then you grab me, and try not to readjust my family jewels.”

  She flinched. “Ew.”

  “I live to inspire you.”r />
  Rachel slowly climbed onto the bike, careful to not stretch her delicate muscles. Zack couldn’t count how many times women hurt themselves underestimating how much they had to split their legs to fit on his bike. Even the seven foot tall supermodels sometimes walked away acting like they had sex for twelve hours straight.

  “You sure you never ridden one of these things before?” Zack put his helmet back on and made sure Rachel followed suit. “Because you’re already a natural.”

  She snaked her arms around his midsection and clenched her hands together. Damn. That’s night. Almost as nice having her head pressed up against his shoulder. “Prove it!”

  Zack revved up the motorcycle before kicking it away from the sidewalk. “Hang on!”

  Rachel’s grip didn’t falter as they went down the road, hitting every green light on their way to the pristine countryside that surrounded this concrete den of capitalism and culture. In an ideal world, he would follow the river up to the source in the Appalachian Mountains. But the infrastructure didn’t support that until they made it a few miles outside of the city limits. The only traffic allowed along the riverbank in the city were nautical vehicles, and Rachel had made it clear that she was terrified of the water.

  “Holy shit!” Rachel cried once they hit top speed on the highway. “This is awesome!”

  Zack would have shouted something back, but he needed to pay attention to the road.

  He didn’t drive his motorcycle as often as he should, often opting to hang out on the open water as opposed to the open road. But he had been excited to take up the hobby in his early twenties after meeting a classmate at college who collected Harleys and insisted on showing Zack the ins and outs after learning he was a yacht fan. “They often go hand-in-hand,” the guy had said. Back then, Zack didn’t believe it. He was a believer now.

  His family owned a lakeside cabin up the nearest mountain, but rarely used it. They definitely weren’t using it that weekend, although Zack went ahead and called the family scheduler to make sure he and Rachel would be alone – and that the place would be cleaned and stocked for an overnight stay. Even if they decided to come back into the city, they could at least have dinner first. We’ll be back in the city by sunset. It’s fine.