The Billionaire Bad Boy Plan

by Michelle Love

  Ori laughed. ‘Can’t think of anywhere but yes, I will be. I’ll keep to the tourist traps.’

  After her friend had gone, Ori dressed in jeans and a loose, flowing white shirt, pulling her long dark hair into a messy ponytail. Sliding her feet into her old battered Chuck Taylor’s, she grabbed her bag, shoved the guidebook inside and headed out.

  This year, Venice in March was unseasonably warm, and soon Ori had lost herself in exploring the place, taking water taxis, letting herself drift down small passages. She ended up on the island of Giudecca and found a small bar-trattoria to have lunch in. She ordered a small tuna salad and ate with pleasure, a glass of wine on the table, watching the people as they passed on the street. She got lost in daydreaming so when the man who appeared by her side spoke, she started in her chair.

  Maceo Bartoli was smiling down at her and god, if a beat didn’t start pulsing between her legs. He was gorgeous, all scruffy charm and confidence and very, very tempting but Ori knew his type. Once he’d had her, she would be old news, and she didn’t think her confidence could take that kind of hit right now.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, coolly, ‘I didn’t hear what you said.’

  Without being asked, Maceo sat down in the chair opposite her and signaled to the waiter. ‘I said, if I pretend that you agreed to have dinner with me, I can count this as our first date.’

  She glared at him. ‘Did you follow me?’

  Maceo laughed – god, his smile really was something else… no. Do not fall for it, she told herself sharply.

  ‘I wish I were that sneaky,’ Maceo admitted, ‘but no, I promise. Coincidence. A happy one for me, at least. You?’

  Ori hid a smile behind her wine glass. She had to admit his confidence was amusing and being flirted with by a stunningly handsome man? Not too shabby. But she’d be damned if she’d let him know that. ‘I haven’t made my mind up yet.’

  He laughed again, and something fluttered in her belly. Maceo took out a cigarette pack, offered her one and when she declined, stuck one in his mouth and lit it. He blew out a lungful of smoke, away from her, she noticed with gratitude. He was studying her.

  ‘Tell me, Orianthi – ‘

  ‘Ori. Just call me Ori.’

  He inclined his head gracefully. ‘Tell me, Ori. What are you doing in my city?’

  She hesitated only a beat. ‘A vacation. A sabbatical.’

  ‘Are you working?’

  ‘Not currently.’ Why did that always make her feel like a waste of space?

  Maceo did not seem phased. ‘I think, sometimes, we need to take stock, reevaluate. A sabbatical is good.’

  Ori blinked. What was his game? Agree with her about everything? She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Are you making fun of me?’

  ‘Quite the contrary. I, myself, am a workaholic. I love the adrenaline rush, but I too have thought about taking an extended break.’

  Ori smiled at him. ‘And what would you do, Mr. Bartoli, on your break?’

  He smiled. ‘I would dedicate myself to finding out the best way to fuck you, Ms. Roy. What you liked, what you didn’t. Using my hands, my tongue to pleasure you until you screamed my name loud enough for the whole of Venice to hear. Then just when you think you couldn’t take anymore, I would drive my cock deep inside you until you begged me to stop.’

  Ori, her breath caught in her chest, stared at him. What the hell? Was he serious? However angry she felt was belied by the fact she could feel herself getting wet as he spoke, wanting him to take her there, who cared who saw, just fuck me, please…

  Instead, she pulled herself together. ‘I imagine that there are some women upon whom that ‘honesty’ would work,’ she said rather primly, gathering her bag and scrabbling around for some cash to pay for her lunch. ‘I, however, am not one of them. Goodbye, Mr. Bartoli.’

  Leaving him grinning after her, she stalked off and caught a water taxi back to Lucia’s house. Of all the insufferable, egotistical assholes… She stomped into her room and flung her bag against the wall.

  Yeah, but you can’t help thinking about him, can you?

  ‘Shut up,’ she told herself. God, she needed a distraction. She grabbed her phone and went to sit on the little balcony. She found the number of A.J.’s facility and waited. After a moment, the receptionist answered, and soon A.J. was saying hello. His voice sounded dull.

  ‘Hey, Boo,’ Ori said gently, knowing her brother’s moods were erratic.

  ‘Hey funny face,’ he said and sighed. ‘It’s good to hear from you. When are you coming back?’

  Ori’s heart twisted. ‘Sweetie, I – ‘

  ‘No, sorry, don’t answer that. I don’t want you to come back yet, I’m sorry. I’m just a little down today.’

  ‘Have you been taking your meds?’

  ‘Like I promised, sis. You heard from Dad?’

  Ori grimaced. ‘No. Not a word.’

  ‘Have you seen the latest then? On the news? Some more women are coming forward. Seems Papa really can’t keep it in his pants.’

  A.J.’s voice was so dead, flat and lifeless Ori could have cried. That his father didn’t give a crap about Ori was one thing – that he ignored his only child was unforgivable. ’Look, Boo, I can come back whenever. Bust you out of there.’ She tried to make a joke out of it, and she heard A.J. give a soft chuckle.

  ‘You know, sis? Here was a good idea, this place, I mean. It is helping, obviously, some days more than others – but I do feel at last I’m getting my head clear.’

  Ori gave a sigh of relief. ‘That is good news. Look, when I come back, we’re going to go someplace where he can’t touch us. I promise.’

  ‘That sounds like a plan.’

  When she ended the call, she felt calmer. A.J. was making progress, and that was all that mattered now. Her younger half-brother was the love of her life, and she knew she would do anything to protect him. When he’d been diagnosed as having Bipolar Disorder at fourteen, Ori had been beside herself, terrified that he would kill himself with drugs or alcohol. Pinegap Rehabilitation Center was only the latest in a long chain of rehab places, but he seemed to be thriving there – most days. She hoped Tyson would stay away. Just keep paying the bills and leave him alone, she thought to herself now. She considered and then burrowed in her bag for her ‘other’ phone. The one whose number Tyler would call her on. She kept it off mostly unless A.J. was unreachable then she turned it on in case of emergency.

  Out of sheer masochism, she turned it on now. Her voicemail was full. Cursing herself, she listening to a few of the messages. All from Tyson. Some of them were rants about her ‘disloyalty’; others disgustingly lewd. The latest were short and sweet. ‘Where the fuck are you, Orianthi? Do you think you can hide from me?’.

  She deleted every last one of them and then cursed. Why did she do that? It was evidence. ‘Dumb, stupid girl,’ she snarled at herself then stopped. Evidence. Was she that convinced that one day she would need evidence against him? Fuck, she was messed up.

  She pushed the thought away and went to make some dinner for Lucia. She had bought fresh ingredients for seafood linguine, and as she cooked, she could feel all the tension leech out of her. She chopped, diced and steamed and by the time Lucia got home from work, there were two plates piled high with pasta. Lucia swooned over the hot buttery food, garlicky ciabatta on the side to soak up the creamy sauce.

  ‘You are wasted as an art curator,’ Lucia told Ori afterward when they sat outside on the balcony with a half-empty bottle of wine between them. ‘You should retrain as a chef.’

  ‘Ha,’ Ori smiled, ‘One good dish doesn’t make a chef.’

  They chatted easily and then Ori, not being able to help herself from talking about him, mentioned she had seen Maceo out on one of the islands. Lucia rolled her eyes.

  ‘I wondered where he’d gotten to. I had buyers waiting. He seemed very pleased with himself when he got back; I hope it wasn’t awkward.’

  ‘Not at all. You’re right, though. He�
��s trouble with a capital ‘T’.’

  ‘Big, big trouble,’ Lucia agreed, then stared at her. ‘Oh god, you haven’t got a crush, have you? Because he’ll trample all over your heart if you let him.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, I don’t know the man.’

  ‘Who needs to know a man when he looks like Maceo?’

  ‘Sounds like I’m not the one with the crush.’ Ori chuckled at her friend’s horror-stricken face.

  ‘That is not what I meant, Orianthi, and you know it. But I’m not blind, I can see that the man is delicious. He’s just too sure of himself.’

  Ori tapped Lucia’s wineglass with her own. ‘That’s what I think.’

  But later, in bed, she allowed herself to fantasize about what it would be like to be fucked by such a man. She imagined his lips against hers, her hand sliding down to his groin, feeling the hot length of his cock through the fabric of his pants, his fingers pulling at her panties, his cock gliding into her. Ori couldn’t help rubbing her clit, imagining it was his tongue lashing around it and she dreamed herself to orgasm, burying her face in her pillow to muffle her cries.

  Just like every time she came though, afterward, the tears would come, the release of tension too much for her and she sobbed quietly until she fell into an uneasy sleep.

  ‘You’re still here.’

  Alex was surprised. Benoit and Lisander had already flown home to Paris and Buenos Aires respectively, but Alex had stayed to hang out with Maceo, and now he saw that Seth was at the table too. The tall Canadian smiled at him.

  ‘I was persuaded to stay another night,’ he said, nodding at a grinning Maceo.

  ‘Just one more quiet meal with friends,’ Maceo explained, ‘but sadly Ben and Sander had to work. The never-ending toil,’ he said dramatically, and the other two laughed. Maceo was undoubtedly the joker of their group, but Alex knew, sometimes his friends, the stoic Ben especially, found him a little too much.

  Tonight, however, he was on good form. ‘I must tell you, friends, I believe I have finally met my match.’

  ‘Ha,’ Seth snorted, ‘I’ll believe it when I see it.’

  ‘No, no, really, this girl is special.’

  ‘They all are until you fuck them,’ Alex said dryly. Maceo threw up his hands but laughed.

  ‘You have a fair point, my friend but no. This one…she has something else. She will not be so easily had.’

  ‘Oh, she is different,’ Seth nodded sagely, ‘…she has taste.’

  Maceo laughed, taking the ribbing in good heart. All three friends enjoyed the meal, joking and laughing. It wasn’t until they were leaving the restaurant that the conversation turned serious.

  Maceo looked at Alex steadily. ‘Alex, my brother…will you be okay? Seth told me this morning that the figlio di puttana who killed Viola is still out there?’

  Alex nodded, his eyes clouding over. ‘A part of me wants to find him first, so I can end this the way Viola deserves…..’

  He gathered himself as his two friends looked at him sympathetically. ‘I’m sorry, guys. I’ll get to the bottom of it, I swear I will.’

  Later, Maceo drove both Alex and Seth to the airport himself. Hugging them goodbye, he made them promise. ‘We will meet soon, again, yes?’

  As he made his way back to the car, his attention was caught by a man in a long dark coat and sunglasses getting into a long black limousine. Sunglasses at night?

  Maceo grinned to himself. ‘What are you hiding from?’ He soon forgot about the man, channeling his thoughts more pleasurably onto his latest project. Orianthi Roy. He could not stop thinking about her, to the point where he actually called Lucia into his office earlier that day and asked her about her friend.

  ‘You leave that girl alone,’ Lucia said immediately. ‘She is not one of your conquests.’

  Maceo grinned now. No. Not yet. But he hadn’t said that to Lucia. Out of all his colleagues, she was the one he was actually wary of – probably because she was amazing at her job and had turned him down flat when he’d tried his usual shtick on her first day at the gallery.

  ‘That,’ she had said bluntly, grabbing his cock through his jeans. ‘isn’t going to get anywhere near me. It does not interest me. Now,’ she had released him. ‘Can we get back to work?’

  Maceo laughed out loud now. He honestly could not imagine his business without Lucia. So, could he risk her friendship just for the sake of fucking Orianthi?

  For once, Maceo knew, he would have to tread very, very carefully. If only he could stop thinking about Ori’s lush curves or her pink, warm mouth...

  ***

  ‘Are you sure you’re going to be okay? I can always tell Johnny I can’t make it this weekend.’

  Ori rolled her eyes at her friend. Lucia’s boyfriend, a motor racing driver, had called at the last minute, asking Lucia to fly to Monaco to see him. Ori could tell she was excited. ‘As long as you don’t mind me pretending that this amazing place is my own for a week.’

  Lucia laughed. ‘Not at all – I know you, Miss Homemaker. I’ll come back to brand new drapes and exquisitely crafted baked goods like in college. God, doesn’t that seem a million years ago?’

  ‘It does.’ Ori followed Lucia into her bedroom and sat on the bed while she packed. ‘I found this great little café today, overlooking the lagoon. It’s quiet, and I can write there. Lucia, this city is growing on me, I have to say. As well as the obvious beauty of the place, I like the people, the serenity.’

  ‘Ha,’ Lucia snorted from the depths of her closet, ‘wait until it’s Carnival time. Then you’ll change your mind.’ She dragged a huge suitcase out of her closet and opened it. ‘Eww, is that a mouse?’

  Ori peered in. ‘No, it’s half an ear muff, you loon.’ She threw it at a relieved Lucia. ’How’s the Bartoli Bone Fest going to cope without you for a week? Rich boy’s going to have to get his own coffee.’

  Ori grinned at her friend as Lucia tried to look disapproving. ‘You are so mean.’

  ‘Haven’t you been the one to warn me away from him?’

  ‘Just because I don’t want a nice girl like you to get hurt by Maceo, doesn’t mean I’m not very fond of him. Under all the bullshit…well, let’s just say I think still waters run deep.’

  Ori was surprised but didn’t say anything else. She’d spent the past few nights dreaming of Maceo Bartoli; if nothing else, he helped the nightmares stay away.

  Lucia left a couple of hours later, with hugs and kisses and promises to call and then Ori was truly alone. She felt weird banging around in the big apartment by herself and since it was too early to call A.J., she decided to take her computer and go do some writing.

  She went to the small café she had discovered and ordered coffee and gelato. Opening her computer, she launched her browser and checked the news in the States. Her step-father was front page news again. Ori ignored the gnawing terror that Tyson Janek’s handsome face gave her every time she saw it and read through the story. More woman coming forward with sexual assault claims. God, the man was a monster. Her eyes scanned the rest of the story, stopping when she saw her name mentioned. ‘There are few people in this world whom I trust,’ Janek told a press conference, ‘but I know I can count on the support of my daughter, Orianthi, and my son, Adam James. They are the closest people to me.’ The congressman appears emotional. ‘I love them with all my heart; they truly are the best of me.’

  ‘Motherfucker…’ Ori whispered to herself. God, he really was repellent – how much would it shock the world now to find out he was a rapist scumbag? Janek was entirely responsible for A.J.’s staggering lack of confidence, his depression. Ori was angrier for A.J. than for herself – A.J. was Janek’s biological son, for chrissakes. She slammed the lid of her laptop down – a little too hard – and took a deep breath in. A.J. is safe, well away from him and so are you, Orianthi. So are you.

  She finished her coffee and settled down to work on her project. It was near dusk when she looked up from her work. She stret
ched and packed up her stuff. Home, a bath, food, and a good book. Sounds like the perfect evening. She was smiling to herself as she walked back slowly through the city. Her cell phone rang just as she reached the apartment. Lucia.

  ‘Sweetie, I’m so sorry to ask you this,’ Lucia sounded panicked, ‘but Maceo is having a meltdown. One of his customers is saying a painting Maceo sold him is fake. Is there any chance you could go the gallery and help him out?’

  Ori saw her perfect evening go up in smoke. ‘Of course, honey, don’t panic. I’m not a hundred percent sure what I can do, I’m not an expert…’

  ‘That’s the thing…Ori, we have this happen to us all the time, and when it does, I usually act the part of the art expert. Most of the time it works, and we don’t have to fly our real expert in from Geneva. So, if you could, you know, pretend…’

  Ori started to laugh. ‘You are kidding me, right?’

  Lucia chuckled. ‘I wish I was.’

  Ori sighed. ‘No problem. Look, if I’m going to look the part, can I borrow your work clothes? I can’t show up in jeans.’

  ‘Of course, anything you need. Thanks, Ori, I owe you one.’

  Which is how, forty-five minutes later, Ori, dressed in a black skirt and jacket with her hair pulled back into a severe bun and her spectacles perched on her nose, marched into Maceo Bartoli’s gallery. She was gratified to see Maceo’s eyes open wide in surprise, saw him suppress a smile. He turned to the middle-aged man, who was eyeing Ori both suspiciously and appreciatively. Ori knew immediately this would be easy.

  In less than a half hour, the man went away satisfied his painting was the original (it was, Ori, knew an original Kahlo when she saw it) and Maceo was grinning broadly as he poured them some drinks in his office.

  He handed her a flute of champagne. ‘Thank you, Ori.’

  ‘Anything to help Lucia,’ she said smoothly but with a grin, and he laughed. He indicated her suit.

  ‘That works.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘If you have a secretary fetish, keep it to yourself.’