Blackmailed by the Billionaire Brewer

by Rachel Lyndhurst

  “Clothes, hair, pedi, mani, fake tan, reiki, whatever you need.” He cocked his head to get her attention back on his face. “You see? I understand the needs of high-maintenance women. And as for confidentiality, I won’t tell anyone your darkest secrets if you don’t tell anyone you’re a girlfriend of convenience as well as my reluctant beer pin-up girl.”

  “You said companion, not girlfriend. And my secrets aren’t that dark.”

  “Not on a world scale maybe, but bad enough to keep Passion Creek gossiping for a few years.” He blew air through his teeth. “Heck, I’m still blushing when I think back to the things you told me in the Parrot Bar. And then later, back at the condo—”

  “I don’t think we need to go into all that,” she said, her voice catching.

  She was bluffing just like he was, but this cat-and-mouse game was fun. He wondered again what she thought she’d told him after drinking her way through the cocktail menu. It was tantalizing. “Then that’s okay. I’ll keep it all to myself if you go along with what I’m suggesting. And if you want to use my body again–”

  “I don’t.”

  If Piper made the first move, he’d have nothing to feel bad about, would he? She was a contractor for a set period of time and if she chose to seduce him…he was only flesh and blood, after all. It might not happen as quickly as he’d like it to, but it would. It was arrogant of him to have that sense of certainty, but the sexual tension between them crackled in the air already. He would play it cool and she would come back to him in the end.

  He smiled contentedly. “A few weeks, all expenses paid, lots of parties, a good wage, and a priceless opportunity to push Silver Bells and Cockle Shells.”

  She looked surprised. “I can do that? Promote my business?”

  “Why not? It’s not as if we’re in direct competition or anything. I can get the media team to run off some extra photo shoots for your own use. Maybe in time we can talk about your products and how they could be useful to the brewery, our bars, retail outlets. The possibilities are endless.”

  There was a hint of a dreamy smile forming. He was doing something right at last. Her voice lost its sharp edge. “Cool.”

  “So?”

  “So…I have no real choice.”

  “But it’s not so bad after all?” He saw her slender throat move as she swallowed before she spoke again.

  “Will all this be happening in Passion Creek?”

  “Mainly, but we might need to go out of town now and then. Problem?”

  “Maybe.” She frowned. “I have a pregnant cat in the house.”

  “Okay, we can probably sort something out about that.”

  “And a sister. Also pregnant.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  Maybe she thought he was a little dumb, but he could tell when he was being conned. “And the due dates are?”

  “Both pretty much imminent.” She must have seen the incredulity he was feeling displayed all over his face. “I’m not lying.”

  Of course she wasn’t. Much. “So the daddy, he can take care of your sister, right?”

  “The daddy is out of the picture. It’s just us.”

  “Holy…”

  “Yeah, it’s not ideal, but family is family. You understand?”

  He didn’t. “Yes. I’ll make sure we don’t go out of Passion Creek together unless it’s by helicopter. Thirty-minute return time. That okay?”

  “Thirty minutes to where?”

  She should have taken up law or insurance claims. Talk about a need for detail. “Back to a helipad I have access to twenty-four-seven within a few blocks of your place.”

  She looked shocked. “You know where I live?”

  “It’s on the resume the agency emailed me. Don’t worry. I haven’t been trawling your name on the internet. Believe me, I have personal experience of that happening, and it’s not funny.”

  Her eyes widened. “Like what happened?”

  “Bad stuff. Seriously, I have stalkers even now. Legal restraint doesn’t seem to make any difference to some of these nutcases.”

  “Stalkers. How scary is that?”

  “All it took was one article in Vanity Fair. I was naive. I’m not anymore.”

  “What do they want? Why do they do it?”

  He laughed. “Being on Forbes’ most eligible and stinking-rich bachelor list might have something to do with it.”

  “Jeez, you must have come up front and personal with a lot of silicone.”

  “And Botox, but I prefer people to be real.” He looked out the window toward the backyard where a beer truck loaded with barrels was reversing, and then turned his attention back to her. “So how about a cocktail with me since I haven’t converted you to beer yet? Maybe a few, then dinner. Around seven o’clock?”

  The color rose in her face. “I can’t tonight, it’s too short notice.”

  “Of course, no problem. Do you have a current boyfriend in town? I never asked, but assumed since what happened in Florida…”

  “No, no current boyfriend. Not since Christmas Eve.”

  Not since Christmas Eve? Nasty of whichever one of them did the dumping, but none of his business. “So if tonight’s out, we’ll do lunch instead. Now. During the time you’d been planning on working on a pile of really boring spreadsheets with a sweaty peanut butter sandwich at your desk.”

  “Are you really suggesting cocktails halfway through the work day?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t too worried about daytime drinking in Sanibel. There’s no need for either of us to come back to the office today. Are you driving?”

  “No, I’m not driving, but I’m not on vacation anymore, either.”

  “Piper, the next few weeks are going to be more of a vacation than you’ve ever had if you can relax and go with the flow. Seriously, add holistic massage to the list of your allowable expenses. You seem to need it.” He watched her face as she appeared to consider his suggestion. There were dark circles under her eyes; she could probably do with some pampering. He guessed things hadn’t been too easy for her. “What’s your favorite restaurant?”

  “The Loft is, but—”

  “Great. I’ll take you there and buy you anything you want. I feel like celebrating.”

  She smiled nervously and then the tension in her face seemed to melt. At last. “Okay, the Loft for lunch, then. I’ll have the rib eye steak with shrimp, a side of onion rings, and the best Cabernet Sauvignon they have.”

  “Cabernet, hmmm?”

  “Merlot is so passé.”

  “Do you want some nuts with that?”

  “Olives, the imported ones hand-stuffed with garlic by nuns.”

  He picked up his jacket and slid it back on. “In that case, I’ll have the biggest lobster in town. With melted garlic butter.”

  Her smile became a grin. “And I thought you could live on peanuts and potato chips, Mr. DeLeo.”

  “I can. And beer. It’s nutritious. In fact, I’m thinking of devising a diet based on it. Write a book, develop an app, maybe design some ultra-cool merchandise.”

  She tilted her head to one side. “The tragic thing is that I can see you actually doing that.”

  Chapter Three

  Piper’s cheeks tingled as the cold air outside the brewery office building hit her full on. Matt DeLeo was no more than a foot behind her—she could feel his heat in the cool Colorado air, she would swear to it.

  “Which way from here?” she murmured. “Are we walking?”

  “Why not?” His voice was deep and calm, such a contrast to how she felt. “We can be there in about five minutes. Or I can get us a car.”

  She turned to face him. “I can walk five minutes to the Loft if that’s where you want to go.”

  “I’ve never been there, but if it’s your favorite, that’s good enough for me.”

  “It’s great, but—”

  “Then let’s get there because my stomach is going to be making really bad noises s
oon.”

  Piper wanted to say she was scared her buddies would spot her, that the bartender would be indiscreet, and that her best haunt was about to be sullied forever. She hadn’t thought about that when she’d blurted out that the Loft was her favorite place. “Okay, but don’t embarrass me. I’m a regular.”

  “Now why would I do that?”

  The way he said that made her even more fearful. She couldn’t trust him after he’d threatened to put her panties up behind the bar of the Railway Tavern, could she? She made a snap decision to lie for everyone’s benefit. “And to be honest, I’ve heard the chef’s not so hot on seafood.”

  “Really?”

  “I’ve never actually had the lobster myself, but the last time I was there, I did hear someone complaining.”

  “Would you like to go somewhere else?”

  She held in the sigh of relief. “I think it would be best. Perhaps Fernando’s?” She’d never set foot in the place because it was so expensive, but if Matt wanted to play this game to the max, she could get a nice meal out of it. “Although I hear they have a waiting list for tables as long as your arm.”

  “They’ll fit us in,” he said confidently. “But it’s not close by and it’s freezing out here. Let’s have a drink somewhere while we wait for a car and I give Fernando’s a call.” He gestured to a red and yellow awning a few yards ahead. “Tapas bar, perfect.”

  The heavy wood and glass door swung closed behind them and the warm air scented with garlic, chorizo, and sherry was heavenly in contrast with the gray chill outside. “I must do Spain one day,” Piper mused. “So colorful and vibrant.”

  “And warm.” Matt pulled out a tall wooden stool at the bar for her. “Although Seville in July can be a challenge.”

  “You’ve been there?”

  “I’ve been a whole lot of places, the upside of having an itinerant and pretty much wasted youth before I got stuck in an office. And then a regular paycheck made last-minute cheap flights during vacation time irresistible.”

  “Lucky you.” Sometimes Piper wished she hadn’t always been so square and reliable, Sanibel excluded—that was a crazy blip. “Sounds like fun.”

  He stared for a moment at the arch-shaped wooden wine rack behind the bar. Could it be that he was suddenly feeling wistful? Piper knew damn well she would be. Leaving the Atlantic Coast and its soft white sand had been bad enough.

  “What would you like to drink?”

  Her head was still thick from lack of sleep, but what the hell. “Whatever you’re having, as long as it’s not beer.”

  He smiled at the bartender and gestured that he wanted to order. “Two large Tempranillos, por favor.”

  The bartender grinned back. “Want any tapas with that, mate?”

  Matt nodded. “Yeah, a couple of small ones, whatever’s best today.”

  They watched as the young guy poured rich, ruby-colored liquid into the glass bowls of two tall wine goblets. “It’s nice here,” Piper said. “Why don’t we stay here and eat instead of trekking across town?”

  Matt shrugged. “Not sure they do big meals like steak and shrimp, just the tapas. I can ask about the Cabernet.”

  “I’m fine with the cute little dishes.” She closed her eyes and took a sip of the wine, tiny beaded bubbles still spinning on the surface from being poured. “This red wine is good. Is your cold executive heart set on lobster?”

  “I’ll live without the crustacean. In that case, let’s sit somewhere more comfortable.” He pointed to a small table set into an alcove. “Grab that one and I’ll get our server to bulk up our order.”

  Piper panicked slightly in the minute it took Matt to upgrade their order and she sat fiddling with a coaster while she waited for him. Conversation had flowed effortlessly between them in Florida and it hadn’t just been because of the alcohol. However, this was a very different feeling situation. Her best bet was to keep this as business-like as possible, to remain neutral and professional, however companions or girlfriends of convenience managed to do that. When he sat down she forced a smile, looked away, and took a sip of her wine before speaking.

  “I’ve been thinking about this big plan of yours.” She stabbed a cocktail stick at one of the stuffed olives the waiter had put down with their drinks. Garlic-stuffed, too. “Won’t your staff think it’s odd that the temp who screwed up the entire payment run is now suddenly your girlfriend and poster girl?”

  “Nope. I’ll mention to Super discreetly that my new squeeze wanted to know what it was like to have a nine-to-five job instead of living off her daddy’s allowance. And now that she knows what real work is like, she doesn’t like it too much, but she likes dressing up and having her picture taken.”

  “That makes me look like a spoiled brat!”

  He shrugged. “Does it matter? Being on my arm and having me metaphorically kissing your tiny feet will mean most of womankind will hate you anyway.”

  “So modest.” Her toes tingled at the thought of him kissing them. Perhaps he’d done that to her already, but she couldn’t be exactly sure.

  “It’s an observed fact, and that’s why I avoid long-term relationships. It’s just not fair on them.”

  “Them?” Talk about an inflated ego. “The female masses?”

  “No, the poor woman who thinks she’s found Mr. Right, but is sadly deluded because I’m a Grade A shit.” He shot her a chilling look. “Just so we’re clear.”

  “There’s no such person as Mr. Right in Passion Creek.”

  There might have been in Sanibel, though, if he hadn’t been such a drifter…

  She shuddered for a split second, thinking she’d spoken those words aloud. Was she insane? The drifter bum version of Matt DeLeo was the most unsuitable potential life partner she’d ever encountered, apart from her abysmal ex, of course. And Matt DeLeo the super-wealthy brewery boss and genius entrepreneur was equally bad, just in a more respectable way. Irresponsible and full of himself. She was destined to spend the rest of her life alone—there was very little doubt about it—and all things considered, maybe that was for the best.

  She needed to keep their relationship on as much of a business footing as possible or things could get messy. Cold and ruthless was the way forward. “I guess we must have a schedule of events, appearances, that sort of thing leading up to the big launch day? When is that? And you said photo shoots. I have no idea what that involves.” She couldn’t help wrinkling her nose before finishing with, “apart from lots of lovely pink beer.”

  “On that day, I have a huge event at the town hall planned out. The mayor is all for it, and he’s even agreed to wear a pink PCB-issue vest for the proceedings.”

  She couldn’t suppress a little smile after hearing that piece of information. “Yeah, I can see Mayor Cobbett really going for something that tacky. And alcoholic…”

  “He has a lot of contacts and they’ll all be there buying and drinking and being persuaded to tell their friends. Hopefully, if they drink enough, they’ll also be tempted to put pressure on their corporate entertainment departments to order with us. If I get things right, word about PCB being a totally amazing love elixir will go viral. I’m considering adding a Twitter hashtag to the campaign as well. Get the trendy demographic interested.”

  “Not worried about the Puritans?”

  He shook his head. “Advertising and promoting alcohol is still legal and long may it stay that way. Besides, there’s evidence to suggest responsible drinking is actually good for you. And, let’s face it, you can go into a store and buy cannabis legally in Colorado these days. Beer is pretty tame in comparison.”

  She raised an eyebrow and he matched her.

  “Looks good,” she murmured as the bartender began to unload a stack of tiny dishes on to the table in front of them.

  “Today’s specials.” The bartender grinned. He clearly enjoyed this part of his job. “Fire-roasted piquillo peppers stuffed with fresh goat cheese and rosemary, seared sea scallops with crispy jamón, lemon aio
li, and flash-fried arugula, charcuteria, patatas bravas, and my personal favorite, carne de cerdo, ribs with a pineapple brandy sauce served with crispy fried onions.”

  “Good grief,” Piper muttered. “Your chef is a genius.”

  “I hope you’re hungry,” he said with a laugh and then switched his attention to Matt. “I’ll be right back with the blood orange sangria you ordered at the bar, sir.”

  The warm red wine on her empty stomach was taking hold quickly. She hadn’t had time for breakfast, but it looked like lunch was going to make up for it. She picked up a pepper by the stalk, bit into its juicy, salty filling, and savored the tang of the herby cheese before launching into her best small talk. “I’ve never had lobster, way too expensive. What’s it like?”

  His dark eyebrows lifted. “Like a big shrimp, but chewier, not as sweet. Big, fat shrimps are nicer in my opinion.”

  Piper bit down on a scallop. “So why the ‘I’ll have the lobster’ thing?”

  “Because I’d never tasted it before I made it as a somebody. I order it because I can.”

  “But you prefer shrimp?”

  “I prefer burgers, actually. With processed cheese and sweet pickles.”

  She stared down at the spread of dishes between them. “Comfort food.”

  “I guess.”

  “My mom’s roast chicken is the best for that.”

  He chewed for a moment, looking at her intently. “My mom isn’t much of a cook.”

  “A mom that doesn’t cook the best food ever? Not natural.”

  He shrugged. “You said it.”

  “I’m sorry, none of my business.”

  She suddenly wanted to ask him over to her folks’ for Sunday dinner to show him how real people lived, normal people who peeled their own potatoes and scrubbed the floor, but knew her mom would fall for him instantly. He had that little boy lost look about him when his guard was down, when he was asleep, she remembered that much. Those long, dark eyelashes… No, her private life was a total no-go area if she wanted to survive this. Matt DeLeo should remain as secret or at least as low-key as possible. And what was she doing trying to be nice to this man, anyway? He was blackmailing her, for God’s sake! The wine must be strong.