Billionaire's Second Chance

by Claire Adams

  “I’m listening,” I said.

  “Let’s . . . Let’s just keep this between us,” he said. “I certainly wasn’t expecting things to go in this direction, so I think, for now, it would be best if we didn’t talk about this with anyone else. Especially not at work. I’m the boss and everything, but there’s probably some sort of ethical violation in hooking up with an employee.”

  “I’d think you’d get to call the shots on that,” I said, even though he was probably right. “But that makes sense.”

  “It might even be like a fun little game. You’re sitting out there at your desk, knowing that I can see you from my office, and we’ve just got to pretend that there’s nothing there between us. Think you can hang with that?”

  “Of course I can.” Though the aching between my legs was suggesting otherwise.

  “Good.”

  He cupped my chin again and ran his thumb over my lower lip. “Because I find it entirely arousing that you’re a virgin. I’d like to remedy that, but not right now.”

  I opened my mouth to say that right now would be perfectly fine with me, but then I stopped. I could tell he knew how badly I wanted him, how if he asked me to, I’d rip all my clothes off right then and there and lie back, legs spread for him. There was a part of myself that couldn’t believe I was actually thinking these thoughts, but there was just something about him that seemed to bring this out in me.

  “You’re like no one I have ever met before,” I said.

  He grinned. “I am very happy to hear that.”

  By the time I got back to my car, the sun was starting to go down. The skin on my face felt tight and warm to the touch; I’d probably gotten a pretty good sunburn. I was thinking I’d just go home, take a cool shower, and take it easy for the rest of the night, but then Caroline texted and asked if I wanted to stop by and help her eat the Mediterranean takeout she’d gotten.

  “Look at all this food,” she said when I got there. “All this, for one person. Allegedly. It’s crazy!”

  Her small kitchen table was covered in food—dolmas, lamb shawarma, tabouli, falafel. “I hope you’re hungry. So . . . you said you went with Ian on a boat? When?”

  “Today.”

  “Today? What—did you get up at the ass-crack of dawn or something?”

  I grabbed an olive and started to suck on it. “No, it was during work. He just came up to me and asked if I wanted to, like it was the most normal thing on the face of the planet to do. And . . . and we kissed.”

  Her eyes widened and a grin broke out on her face. “You did?! I knew it! How was it?”

  I bit into the olive, working the pit out. “It was really good. But . . . I really don’t know if I can do this.”

  “What are you talking about?” Caroline asked. “Of course you can. I can tell that you like him, too. And this is the perfect way to get Noah to leave you alone. Once he sees that you’re involved with someone else, I bet he’ll back off. He’ll realize that there’s no point.”

  “That’d be nice, but I don’t know if it’s going to be so simple,” I said. “And I just don’t know if I can be involved with someone like Ian.”

  “But why? What are you so afraid of?”

  What was I so afraid of? I wasn’t sure. I’d spent all weekend trying to figure it out, yet here it was, Sunday night, and I was no closer to getting to any sort of answer. “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t want to screw it up.”

  Caroline did not look impressed. “So better to just not do anything? Better to just act like you’re completely not interested, even though a blind person could see that you are?”

  “I know it sounds foolish. And stupid. But you should see him, Caroline. He gorgeous, but it’s more than that . . . he exudes this confidence like no one I’ve ever met before. It’s like it’s magnetic.”

  “Yeah, would you like to know why it’s like that?”

  “Yeah, I would, actually. I am totally not used to feeling this way toward anyone.”

  “Because that’s basically your opposite.”

  I sniffed. “Gee, thanks.”

  “I’m not saying you don’t have any self-esteem, but you constantly doubt yourself. Even over things that you know you can do.”

  “I don’t mean to. I just kind of feel like he’s out of my league.”

  I spit the olive pit out. “He’s absolutely not out of your league. You just need a little more confidence, is all.” She pushed the tub of tabouli toward me. “Have some of this,” she said.

  “Maybe you’re right,” I said.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ian

  Seamus McAllister was HTS’s biggest individual client, though I rarely had to deal with him directly; most often it was his son, Billy, that handled the fine print, such as booking us for things like the sister’s birthday party, or alerting me when a high profile guest could be expected at the poker club. Billy was also far more social than his father was, and didn’t have any qualms about stopping by the office if he was in the neighborhood, which was often enough since we weren’t too far from his favorite bar—I mean, pub—Failte. He was big into the day drinking.

  We’d also been pretty good friends in middle school and high school—Billy and I—but then we just sort of drifted apart, though we had never completely lost contact, and once his father got in touch with me about providing security services, Billy picked things back up like we were teenagers again.

  So I wasn’t too surprised to see him strolling into the office at eleven o’clock that Tuesday morning. I’d been on a call with the manager at one of the boatyards on the harbor we had a contract with, so my door had been partially closed, but I could hear Billy before he’d even come into the main office.

  When I finally got off the phone a few minutes later and opened my door, I was greeted by the sight of Billy leaning with one leg propped up on Daisy’s desk, bent at the knee, his lower leg swinging.

  “No, I know I’ve seen you before,” he was saying. “Look at me again.”

  She turned her face toward him, and they held each other’s gazes, him squinting slightly, her with a slightly chagrinned look on her face.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,” she said.

  He brought his hand up and rubbed his chin, his brow furrowing. Then he snapped his fingers. “Got it,” he said. “I’ve seen you at Failte.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Yeah, probably! My best friend and I go there all the time.”

  “You’re keeping all the good-looking women here, Roubideaux,” Billy said. “First Petra, then Annie, now this one . . .” He gave Daisy the eyes. “You seeing anyone, sweetheart?” I felt a flare of anger swirl through my chest, but I gritted my teeth and grinned.

  Daisy looked at me, and then said—rather empathically—“No.”

  That was all Billy needed to hear. Even if she had been seeing someone, that had never deterred him before. He could be a downright scoundrel when he wanted to be—he’d probably slept with more women than I had—but no fucking way was he going to move in on Daisy, I didn’t give a shit what dirty thoughts were going through his mind right now.

  “Well.” He rubbed his palms together and stood up. “Thrilled to hear it. Anyway, I’ve got to run, but I sure do hope to see you around.”

  “He was nice,” Daisy said after he left. “It’s so funny, I’ve seen him around the bar before, but we never talked.

  “So,” I said, “you’re not seeing anyone?”

  “That’s what we said we were going to do, wasn’t it?” she asked. “We weren’t going to tell anyone?”

  Maybe, but that was really more in regards to Jonathan; I hadn’t factored Billy fuckin McAllister coming into the picture.

  Chapter Twelve

  Daisy

  After work, I met up with Caroline for a drink.

  “You won’t believe it,” I said, “but that red-haired guy that we see here sometimes is a client of Ian’s. He came into the office today.”


  “He’s hot,” Caroline said. She leaned toward me. “You know whose son he is though, don’t you?”

  “Son? No, I don’t.”

  “Seamus McAllister. He’s basically the head of the Irish mafia. Well, it’s not really the mafia, but it’s kind of like that.”

  I gave her a skeptical look. “How do you know?”

  “I don’t know; it’s one of those things that I thought everyone just kind of knew.”

  “I certainly didn’t know that. And why would someone from the mafia need security services?”

  “It’s not really the mafia. But it’s like it.” Caroline’s eyes shifted past me toward the door. “And speak of the devil,” she said.

  I turned and looked over my shoulder. Billy had just breezed in, and it was like he had a homing device or something, the way he looked right over at me, even though we were toward the back.

  “Oh crap,” I said. “He’s coming over.”

  “Of course he is.”

  “I was hoping you might be here,” he said when he reached our table. “Mind if I join you?”

  Caroline shot me a glance; she was going to leave this one up to me. “No, that’s fine.” He plopped down at the table; one of the waitresses was already coming over with a black and tan for him.

  “Daisy,” he said. He had blue eyes with a mischievous glint in them, and short, rust-colored hair. His skin was pale, lightly freckled. “You know, it’s funny that I ran into you like that at Ruby’s.”

  “Ruby?”

  “Roubideaux. Ruby. It’s nicer than calling him Dodo. It’s a term of endearment, really. But yeah—fancy meeting you there! And now here. Because I’ve actually had my eye on you for quite some time.”

  Caroline cleared her throat.

  “I’m being rude.” Billy held his hand out. “Billy McAllister,” he said to her. “And you are?”

  “Caroline. Daisy’s best friend.”

  “Ah,” he said. “A best friend. That’s good. Ruby and I used to be best friends.” He looked at me. “I don’t know if he ever mentioned that to you.”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “I’m not surprised. He doesn’t really like to talk about his past much, if you haven’t been able to figure that out for yourself. Me, though. I’m all about reliving the good old days.” He smiled. “You two barely look old enough to have had any good old days.”

  “We’re old enough,” Caroline said. Billy laughed.

  “I like this one,” he said, patting her on the shoulder. “Can I buy you ladies a round of drinks?”

  Caro looked at me. “Sure, why not,” I said.

  “Great. Much obliged.”

  He signaled to one of the waitresses, and she returned a minute later with three bottles of Beamish.

  She brought them over and Billy gave her a grin. “I’ve got two lovely ladies tonight,” he said.

  “Good for you, Billy.” We all laughed, and he held his beer up and we clinked them together.

  While we drank our beers, he told us a story about a famous actor who had come to one of his father’s poker clubs.

  “This guy,” he said. “You all know him. You’ve probably swooned over him, got his posters hanging on the wall in your bedroom.”

  “Yeah right,” Caroline said, rolling her eyes. “We’re not in high school.”

  “Well, either way. You know this guy. I know this guy. The whole fuckin world knows this guy, and he shows up at my dad’s club, a hundred grand that he thinks he’s going to triple by the end of the night. Ambitious guy. Now, I usually don’t play, but that night I couldn’t resist. I’m not the best poker player, but our A-list actor, by this point, he’d had a few drinks, was feeling a little cocky, and went all in and lost to my pair of aces.”

  “Who was the guy?” Caroline asked.

  “Yeah!” I said. “Who was he?”

  Billy shook his head. “That, my lovelies, I can’t tell you.”

  “Pictures or it didn’t happen.”

  He grinned. “Not going to fall for that. You’re just going to have to take my word for it.”

  Billy was funny and easy to talk to. He wasn’t someone that I’d go out on a date with, but he was definitely a lot of fun to hang around.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ian

  Daisy waited until we were done working for the day to ask me what I was doing Saturday night.

  “I don’t have any plans,” I said. “Did you have something in mind?”

  “I want you to meet my friend Caroline,” she said. “I know we’re keeping things quiet at work but—”

  “I thought I said that we weren’t going to tell anyone about this.”

  A quizzical expression crossed her face. “What? I thought you meant just at work. I didn’t think you meant I couldn’t talk to my best friend about it. We talk about everything.”

  “Great,” I said. It always baffled me how most women had this insane need to have some sort of confidante to spill every last detail of her life to. Not saying that guys didn’t also talk about shit with each other, but not to the degree the women did. I’d overheard girls talking about dick size, how many fingers he put her up her snatch, whether or not he had hair around his asshole. What his come tasted like, if he was circumcised, how he cried out like a girl when he came. Don’t get me wrong—guys bragged about bagging girls all the time, but they didn’t go into minute fucking detail, the way I was sure that Daisy and this friend of hers would.

  “What did you have in mind?” I asked.

  “I don’t know—do you feel like going out for sushi?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Tomorrow night? I’ve got to come in and do a couple things around here, but I can come by your place around six?”

  Daisy grinned. “That’d be perfect!” she said, and just from the way she said it, I knew she had already set the whole thing up with her friend.

  We met up with her friend, Caroline, at Unscaled, which was one of the newer restaurants that I hadn’t been to before. Sushi was not, actually, a culinary favorite of mine, though there were a few things that I didn’t mind.

  The place was crowded, and there was some sort of shitty electronic music playing. We were seated at a table in the middle of the dining area; Daisy and me on one side, Caroline on the other. She was cute—though not as cute as Daisy—and was definitely one of those women who was used to calling the shots about everything.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said as we sipped our hot green tea.

  “Likewise,” I replied, though Daisy hadn’t really told me that much about her.

  “So you’re the owner of the company?” she asked.

  I pulled my chopsticks out of the wrapper and snapped them apart. What was this—a job interview? No, this was the friend interview, to see if I was worthy enough to go out with her friend.

  “What’s good here?” I asked, sliding the menu toward me.

  “I like the crazy roll,” Daisy said. “Caro and I sometimes get the sushi platter for two. And the Harmony roll—it’s salmon and avocado topped with fresh lemon slices.” She grinned. “My mouth is just watering thinking about it.”

  Fortunately, I noticed a small section dedicated to their cooked selections; and there was salmon teriyaki, front and center.

  “I am going to go with the salmon teriyaki, actually,” I said. “But maybe I’ll try a piece or two of sushi if you get enough.”

  “Oh,” Daisy said. “Are you . . . are you not a fan of sushi?”

  “It’s all right,” I said. “There’s a few things I like, though I wouldn’t say it’s my favorite food.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You should have told me! We didn’t have to come here.”

  “Aren’t you like, an avid fishermen or something like that?” Caroline said.

  I smiled thinly, just wondering what Daisy had told her about our little boat outing. “I have a boat, if that’s what you’re referring to. And I do enjoy fishing, though that’s some
thing I haven’t done in a while. Eating raw fish, though, is not one of my favorite things, though I have tried it on numerous occasions.”

  Caroline smirked. “I figured a guy like you would be into that sort of thing.”

  I had to try mightily not to roll my eyes. It was going to be a long evening.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Daisy

  After my second cup of green tea, I had to pee, so I left Caroline and Ian at the table, waiting for our food. We’d gotten some sake, too, though I’d only had one cup so far, and my face felt pleasantly flushed and everything seemed to be going so well that I grinned like a fool all the way across the dining room and into the restroom.

  As I was standing there washing my hands, the bathroom stall next to the one I’d just been in opened and a girl stepped out. She was probably around my age, athletic and pretty with long brown hair and large blue eyes. I could tell she was looking at me in the big mirror as we stood there, running water over our hands. I looked up and caught her eye; she looked away.

  I was just reaching to turn the water off when she spoke.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t mean for this to sound weird, but . . . is that your boyfriend?” she finally said. “That guy you’re with out there?”

  “Um . . . yeah,” I said. “He is.”

  “Oh, okay.” She smiled. “That’s what I figured. You guys have this really great energy. But I’m asking because my friend thinks he’s so hot, but I didn’t want her to make a fool of herself by asking him out.”

  “Well, that’s nice of you,” I said. “But . . . yeah. Sorry. He’s taken.”

  “I told her he was. But couldn’t hurt to ask.” She shut the faucet off and stepped around me to get the paper towels. She pulled one out of the dispenser, handed it to me, then took another for herself.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “No problem. You guys have a good night.”

  “We will; you too.”