Billionaires Don't Like Nice Girls (A BWWM Romance) (18 page)

“And you know ALL about those, Kent Holmes.”

“For your information, I haven’t sold Kenrik. Surprised? I haven’t had the chance to tell you because I’ve been too busy chasing you all over town. The company making the offer wants me to stay on after the sale and head up development for a few years. I think I’m going to accept.”

“That makes no sense.” She couldn’t resist another jab. “Why would a billionaire want to work for someone else? That is,
if
you are a billionaire like your aunt says.”

He didn’t react as she expected, and only shrugged.

“If you’re going to take the offer,” she said, “why are you in Zeke’s Bend?”

“I wanted to talk about the offer with you before I accepted.”

“No, you didn’t! You wanted me to come back here for a little roll in the hay and then you were going to leave. Don’t give me that look. That’s why you gave me that trampy dress.”

“For the record, I don’t have to travel halfway across the country to get laid, Phae. I can get all that I want in Phoenix. You’re being unfair.”

She didn’t doubt that he could have all the women he wanted, but she didn’t appreciate his pointing it out. “And your attacks on me were fair?”

“Okay,” he said, and held up his hands. “Let’s calm down for a second. I gave you that dress because I thought you’d look terrific in it. I have never, ever thought of you as a tramp. God, Phae. I thought you were perfection incarnate.”

Phae reached over and opened the front door. “And now you think I’m a crazy woman. There’s nothing left to talk about. You’ll think whatever you want, and nothing I say will change your mind. Go back to Phoenix and we’ll forget any of this ever happened.”

Kent stood in silence, staring out the open doorway, nodding his head.

“Please, Kent. Leave.”

“Okay, you’re right,” he said at last. “There’s nothing more for us to say. For now. But I wish that we … never mind. Tonight meant something to me. What we did, making love, it was … it was—”

“It’s over,” she said, trying to keep her voice from breaking.

With a final unreadable glance, he said, “Good night, Phae,” and he walked into the night.

She closed the door and fought back tears.

He was gone. One minute she had him, was being held in his arms, happier than she’d been perhaps ever. Her body still tingled from his touch. And then the next minute, everything was ruined.

Kent was gone. It was over.

She slowly walked to the china cabinet. She ran her trembling hands over the glistening wood. Her grandmother had so loved this cabinet. She’d never have forgiven herself if she’d harmed it by childishly slamming the front door too hard.

After assuring herself that the cabinet was undamaged, she turned off the lights and went to her bedroom. Exhausted, she flopped on her bed, the darkness comforting her.

The argument with Kent had gone so badly she could hardly believe it happened. Where was the witty, handsome man she’d met in Miss Eugenia’s garden? Or the charming, chivalrous man who’d held her hand as he walked her back to the fair? Was that only a week ago?

When she’d seen him trying to hide from her earlier in the night, she’d known that she’d been discovered and that she was going to have a lot of explaining to do. She’d expected Kent to be a little annoyed perhaps, but she’d been certain he’d be reasonable. How could she have been so wrong?

Perhaps the relationship had moved too quickly. They’d made assumptions about one another, particularly Kent. She found it hard to fathom that anyone could consider her a perfect woman.

How did he expect her to live up to that?

She hadn’t expected so much from him, merely a little reason. The way he’d attacked her with his unfounded accusations about why she helped people was unforgivable. He was clueless.

All the same, she regretted the cheap shot she’d made about him selling his business. He’d kind of deserved it, though, for the way he’d denigrated her work. He’d made her feel like a loser, a waste of time and space.

She should be thankful he’d left. Kent had proven himself to be over-protective, closed-minded and something of an asshole. And downright wrong. All the rippling muscles and sexy bass voices in the world couldn’t change that.

So why couldn’t she get past the urge to cry?

She cocooned herself in her blanket. Soon it would be dawn and she wanted to be asleep before the bright morning sunlight found its way through the thin curtains hanging over the room’s single small window. She closed her eyes tightly.

Phae would feed her anger and never make such a mistake again. She’d vowed three years ago to never trust a man with power. Her mistake had been to allow Kent to do … what? To make her feel sexy? To make her feel desired? Wanted? To make her say things she wouldn’t ordinarily say?

To hurt her?

Yes, he had hurt her.

And maybe that explained why no matter how hard she squeezed her eyes shut, tears still managed to break free and trickle down her cheek and onto her pillow.

Maybe that explained why.

Chapter 16

PHAE PULLED HER COMPACT CAR into a tight parking space then shut off the engine. She’d been lucky to find a place. Nearly everyone in Zeke’s Bend must have been attending this year’s Fourth of July celebration at the city park.

Phae didn’t ordinarily participate in community activities, but her aunt, Meg, had called and pleaded with her to join the family for a picnic and to watch the town’s fireworks display after dark. After the way Meg had punched her husband, Uncle Leon, at the fair, Phae felt she couldn’t refuse anything Meg asked.

She dragged herself out of the car and headed toward the mass of people swarming over the park grounds. Nodding and smiling at acquaintances, she tiptoed around picnicking families and scooted and ducked to avoid being bonked by an assortment of balls and frisbees flying through the air.

The Jones group wasn’t hard to find. They were always the loudest, most rambunctious family at any gathering. Many of them were involved in a game of touch football. From the way the spectators and participants were cheering and jeering, one might have thought it was the Super Bowl.

She smiled in resignation. It was going to be a long evening.

“Phae-phae! You made it. I’m so glad,” Meg called out from behind a row of tables so overloaded with food they sagged in the middles.

Phae waved and walked over. Meg looked pretty in a lightweight, white sundress. Her red-tipped hair sparkled in the sunlight. Phae, as usual, was far less put together than her aunt, wearing a plain shirt and shorts, her hair pulled back in its usual messy ponytail.

Meg gave her a quick hug. “Let’s get you some food. Everyone else has already eaten. You know what chow hounds the Jones are. There’s plenty left, though. Enough to feed an army as always, and it’s a good thing, too. What do you like? How about some of these ribs? I made my sweet slaw, too.”

Phae smiled and accepted everything Meg slapped on her plate, at the same time greeting other family members. In no time, she found herself seated on a blanket, two sturdy paper plates in front of her heaped with enough food to feed four.

Assorted relatives chatted to and around her as she attempted to make a dent in the mountain of food. She answered any questions they asked her directly, but otherwise didn’t contribute much to the rapid dialogue swirling around her. Thankfully, no one mentioned Kent. The last thing she wanted to think about was that man.

In a way, the hubbub comforted Phae. Since the Fourth of July fell on a Tuesday this year, she and Sylvie had decided to close the beauty shop on Monday to give themselves a long weekend.

Because of this, Phae had hardly left her apartment in the last three days, not much since she and Kent had their fight in the wee hours of Saturday morning.

The hot, early-evening sun warmed her skin while a cool northerly breeze kept the temperature below ninety. Phae wished she could stretch out on the blanket and take a nap, but the noise and confusion made it impossible.

Children squealed and screamed as they raced around the grounds, chasing one another with sparklers and smoke bombs. Firecrackers and bottle rockets popped and zipped, trailing the strong odor of sulphur in their wakes. Tangy gunpowder scent mingled with the odors of fried food and barbecue.

All in all, it felt, smelled and sounded kind of wonderful.

She smiled when she saw Sylvie approaching.

“I’ve had enough of that ridiculous football game,” Sylvie said as she plopped down on the blanket.

“It looks crazy. How many players are on each team? Twenty-five? Thirty?”

“I don’t know. How many are there supposed to be?” Sylvie helped herself to a chicken leg from Phae’s plate.

“Eleven.”

Sylvie took a dainty bite of chicken. “Oh, well, whatever. Dumb game. I hope you don’t mind me helping myself.”

“No. I can’t eat all this.” She pushed the second, untouched plate of food toward Sylvie.

“You’ve got to hand it to the Joneses. We know how to eat. I just ate an hour ago, now here I go again. I don’t know how we stay so skinny.”

Phae raised an eyebrow. Sylvie had curves on curves, and was damned proud of it, something Phae loved about her. But skinny? The girl was having one of those days.

“Of course,” Sylvie waved an ear of corn in the direction of the football players, “not ALL of us do. Some big bellies out there.”

Neesa came jogging up, out of breath from the game, and flopped down onto the blanket.

Phae laughed.

“I didn’t mean Neesa,” Sylvie said. “Girl’s the size of a gnat.”

Neesa fanned herself with her hand. “Whew! It’s too hot to be carrying on like that. Water … need water.” She fluttered her long eyelashes at her cousins.

Phae pulled a bottle from a nearby cooler and tossed it to Neesa, who was about as un-athletic as it was possible to be while still being able to walk. The bottle sailed past her and landed out of reach in the grass.

Sylvie laughed. “Damn, girl, you didn’t even come close.”

“Whatever,” she rolled on her side and gave Phae a needy look. “Try again? Only this time, roll it?”

Phae delivered the next bottle by hand and Neesa opened it and swigged it down greedily.

“I can’t believe you were playing football,” Phae said to Neesa.

“Ahh!” She recapped her bottle. “Yeah, I know, I probably made an ass out of myself, but it’s family, right? Besides, Tonio, Neptune and Jackson begged me to play.”

“Yeah,” Sylvie muttered, “but not on their team, right?”

“Right. So?”

“They wanted to win.”

Phae laughed. “Harsh.”

“I don’t care,” Neesa said. “They were so cute when they were all like, ‘Please, Cousin Neesy, please play with us.’ What was I supposed to say?”

“You were supposed to tell those cons that you’re not falling for their sweet talk, that’s what,” Sylvie said, handing Neesa a muffin.

“Aw, they’re just kids.”

Phae was inclined to agree with Sylvie, that those particular three boys were a trio of sharks in the making. But she knew Neesa’s soft spot for children, so said nothing. It wouldn’t have done any good, anyway.

Sylvie looked around the park. “What we need to do is find you a man, Neesa. Then you can have your own babies and get taken advantage of properly.”

Neesa blew out a loud breath. “Not gonna find me a man here. Every man worth having in Zeke’s Bend is already taken.”

“I guess you’re probably right,” Sylvie said. “I was lucky to snatch up Alan when I did.”

Phae and Neesa shared a quick look. They could do without men like Alan, and wished like hell that Sylvie would clue in and ditch him.

“So where is Dr. Alan today?” Neesa asked.

“Oh, he’ll probably be around later. He had some business to take care of first,” Sylvie answered, picking at a pile of seven-layer salad.

Phae and Neesa shared another look. Business. Yeah, right. Shady business with a bimbo at a sleazy motel in Rollinsburg. They said nothing, though.

“Hey!” Sylvie grinned at Phae. “Where’s that hot piece of billionaire you were smart enough to snatch up right away?”

Phae tried not to flinch but was unsuccessful. She didn’t want to answer the question, so she side-stepped it. “He’s not a billionaire.”

“Miss Eugenia says he is,” Neesa teased, “so it must be true.”

Phae snorted. “Right.”

“Well, even if he’s not a billionaire,” Sylvie said, “he’s probably a millionaire. I sure wouldn’t kick a millionaire out of my bed just because he wasn’t a billionaire.”

“That’s right!” Neesa agreed.

Neesa and Sylvie laughed while Phae rolled her eyes.

“That’s about the dumbest logic I’ve ever heard,” Phae said. “Not being a billionaire doesn’t automatically make you a millionaire. If it did, we’d all be rolling in cash.”

“That’s not how I meant it,” Sylvie said. “You’re not following how it is. Miss Eugenia brags about how much money Kent has, and of course, she exaggerates, because that’s what aunts and mommas do, they exaggerate. So, it makes sense that Kent’s not a billionaire, but he’s most definitely a millionaire because … because that’s how it works. It’s the next step down from billionaire.”

Phae had to admit it made a crazy sort of Sylvie-sense. But she wasn’t going to say it. “This is a pointless conversation.”

“I disagree,” Neesa said, eyes twinkling. “If my cousin’s going to hook up with a millionaire, then I think there’s lots of point in discussing it. By the way, I may need a loan for my farm, you don’t suppose you could, you know, drop a bug in someone’s ear about that …” she winked at Phae.

Sylvie laughed. “Good one. How about us, Phae? We could use some new equipment in the shop. Some fancy inset lighting would be good to spruce up the place. What do you think?”

“I think you’re both losing it today,” Phae answered. “Anyway, Kent Holmes wouldn’t loan me an ice cube on a hot day, and that’s the truth.”

Sylvie and Neesa’s faces fell.

“What do you mean?” Sylvie asked.

“Did something go wrong?” Neesa asked at the same time.