Billionaires Don't Like Nice Girls (A BWWM Romance) (23 page)

“If you two leave, I’ll never forgive you.” Phae looked at Kent. “You fight unfairly, Kent Holmes, and you know it.”

“This isn’t a game, Phae. This is war. And you know all is fair in love and—”

Phae breezed past him and sat down in a chair. “Leave. Go on. Do your best, or your worst, or your stupidest. Whatever. Bring in a hundred piece orchestra to serenade me for a month. Bankrupt yourself with florist bills. Do whatever you’re going to do, but know that it won’t work.”

“He’s a billionaire,” Sylvie said, “he could never buy enough flowers to put even a tiny dent in his fortune.”

“That’s not helpful, Sylvie,” Neesa said. “And he’s probably not even a billionaire anyway. Why would a billionaire come to Zeke’s Bend?”

“Duh. To visit his aunt,” Sylvie answered.

During the cousins’ exchange, the frustration faded from Kent’s handsome features. He gave Phae a sexy little smile, walked over and whispered quietly so only she could hear, “You won’t be able to help yourself.”

She sighed with feigned boredom. “Until you respect who I am, nothing will change.”

“Whatever you say, beautiful.” He briskly rose up to full height and strode toward the front door.

Sylvie and Neesa skittered out of his way. Kent opened the door then turned back around to face Phae.

He began a slow and deliberate study of her body, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. His electric blue eyes sparked with fiery desire. Phae’s face burned and her heart beat faster.

“Lucky for you,” he said, finishing his lingering perusal, “I find the prize to be worth the cost of the war.” He tipped his skimmer hat to Sylvie and Neesa. “Good day, ladies,” he drawled. Then with a sexy wink at Phae, he left the shop, bells loudly tinkling behind him.

“Wow,” Neesa cried as she stared at the closed door. “Did you see that look, Sylvie? Smokin!”

“I could hardly miss it,” Sylvie said. “I’m pretty sure that was his intention.”

Neesa rushed over and peered at Phae. She waved her hand in front of Phae’s face. “She’s a little shell shocked. Think I should slap her? That might snap her out of it.”

Sylvie bustled over and studied Phae. “Hey now. I do all the slapping around here.”

“Never mind,” Neesa said. “I don’t think she’s fainting. She’s overwrought.”

Sylvie grinned. “Overwrought from that hell-a sexy man who gave her the once-over. Day-umm. Maybe I should slap her for letting that gorgeous guy go. What’s she thinking, Neesa? What are you thinking, Phae? Are you in there? Can you hear me?”

Phae pressed her hands to her hot cheeks.

“Leave her alone,” Neesa said to Sylvie. “She knows what she’s doing. Probably.”

“Sure she does,” Sylvie said. “She’s ungrateful, that’s what. Look at everything this man is doing to get her. If Alan gave me a single, wilted wildflower I think I’d fall over dead from shock. And here she’s got all this and—what. Why are you both looking at me like that?”

Phae and Neesa stared at her. This was the first time they’d ever heard Sylvie come close to complaining about how Alan treated her. She always made excuses for him, refusing to see the truth of his callous treatment.

Sylvie raised a hand. “I know, you two. Don’t get started on Alan. It’s not about him right now. This is about Phae and the billionaire.”

Neesa let it go with a shrug. “I’m sure she has reasons for what she’s doing. You do have reasons for denying that hot, rich, romantic man, don’t you, Phae?”

Phae sighed deeply and looked at them in turn. “I have my reasons. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Sylvie made a dismissive sound and Neesa walked over to the wall of chairs and sat down.

“Guess that’s all we’re going to get, Sylvie,” Neesa said. “All our support and friendship over the years comes down to her shutting us out when it matters most. And we’re supposed to say okay, that’s fine. Don’t worry about our feelings. You aren’t hurting them or anything.”

“I think she’s gone crazy or something,” Sylvie said. “I mean—”

Phae let her ramble on. She felt horrible that she couldn’t confide in them about her problems with Kent and what had caused their split. But she simply couldn’t do it. If she did, she’d have to tell them about Captain Nice Guy, and she shuddered to imagine what their reactions would be to that thunderbolt.

No, she couldn’t confide in them. Not this time.

The bells over the door announced the entry of a pair of their elderly, great aunts, Charmaine and Chelly. Phae wanted to flee when she realized the Jones family matriarch, Aunt Elfleda, was right behind them, ensconced in her electric wheelchair and buzzing dangerously close to Charmaine’s frail, bird-like ankles.

Elfleda was something like a great-great-great aunt to Phae, Sylvie and Neesa. They never counted up the “greats,” since anything past a couple was like overkill. Aunt Elfleda was ninety-six going on five hundred, and as sharp as a cat’s claw.

Phae frowned when she noticed the styrofoam hats perched cockily on their white-haired heads. Little signs on the front above the brim read, “Kent Will Not Relent.” They each daintily held small plastic cups in their hands.

Charmaine giggled girlishly as she adjusted her hat in front of one of the shop mirrors. “Isn’t it darling? Kent’s giving them away free.”

Neesa covered her mouth to try to hide her smile, but Sylvie brazenly barked out a laugh.

Phae squeezed her eyes shut and wished herself in another country, or better yet, on another planet.

“And there’s a refreshment cart, too,” Chelly added. “I’ve got lemonade. Read the cup, girls. It says, ‘Support Your Local Suitor.’ Isn’t that just the cutest thing?”

Sylvie and Neesa agreed it was.

“Closing your eyes won’t make it go away,” Sylvie teased Phae. “You might as well give in now. After all, Kent won’t relent.”

Phae wanted to strangle all four of the tittering women. Miz Elfleda didn’t titter; she frowned, deepening the busy network of wrinkles crisscrossing her face.

Elfleda came buzzing up to Phae’s chair and tossed her hat onto the counter behind her. “Get a grip on yourself, girl,” she said brusquely as she motioned for Phae to remove herself from the chair. “I don’t want you ruining my hair today because you’re all fired up about that Romeo. I don’t care how handsome he is. When you’re working on my hair, I don’t want you thinking of anything else.”

Phae shared a questioning, half-panicked look with Sylvie. They didn’t have an appointment on the books for Elfleda. Elfleda always got her hair done at Miss Pearl’s Salon, and had done so for at least a hundred and fifty years.

Nonetheless, appointment or no appointment, the trio of cousins helped the family matriarch out of her wheelchair and into the hydraulic chair.

While Elfleda told a wide-eyed Phae in no uncertain terms exactly what she wanted done with the baby-fine, white tufty bits of hair she still had left, Chelly gushed on about the events outside.

“It’s like a festival out there,” she said. “Workmen have blocked off the street and are setting up all these chairs. There’s going to be a concert later today. It’s so romantic. I don’t know how you can resist him, Phae.”

Sylvie and Neesa chimed in to agree but Miz Elfleda cut them all off with a regal wave of her steady hand.

“Leave her alone. She knows what she’s about,” Elfleda said, surprising everyone in the room.

Phae smiled in gratitude. “Thank you, Aunt Elfleda. You don’t know how much I appreciate having someone on my side.”

“Don’t blame them for their short-sighted ways,” the elderly woman said. “They don’t have much sense. Few women do when it comes to dealing with handsome men.”

“I do get a little silly around the lookers,” Chelly said.

“Mmhm, it’s the truth,” Charmaine added.

Elfleda scowled the two ladies into silence. “Listen up. Any smart woman knows you have to keep a man dangling. The honeymoon’s over soon enough, so you might as well get what you can while the getting’s good.”

Sylvie snickered, Neesa hid another smile behind her hand, and Chelly and Charmaine nodded sagely, as if they’d said it themselves. Phae looked heavenward for strength.

“It’s especially true of rich men,” Elfleda continued. “If you’re going to land a millionaire, you—”

“He’s not a millionaire, Aunt. He’s a
billionaire
,” Sylvie said.

Elfleda scoffed loudly. “Humph. Of course he’s not a billionaire. That’s ridiculous. That silly twit Eugenia always exaggerates. But even so, he’s sure to be a millionaire.”

“That’s what I said!” Sylvie exclaimed.

“No you didn’t, girl,” Elfleda said. “You just said he was a billionaire. I’m old, but I know what’s what. Can’t pull the wool over my eyes, youngster.” She reached out and grabbed Phae’s arm in a shockingly tight grip. “You, stay tough until he starts handing out jewelry with big rocks, like diamonds and rubies. You can go ahead and let him kiss you a few times, give him a little taste so he gets all hot and bothered, but don’t let him feel you up. Not yet, not until you get some of the good stuff.”

Phae’s jaw dropped. “Aunt Elfleda! I’m not trying to clean the man out. I simply want him to leave me alone.”

“Are you serious?”

Phae nodded.

Elfleda looked at Sylvie and Neesa, both of whom gave a we-can’t-believe-it-either-but-it’s-true nod.

Elfleda made a strange dismissive sound, half-snort and half-plastic-click from snapping her dentures shut. She dismissed Phae with a wave. “Well then, there’s nothing left to say. Load me up in my chair. Can’t be getting my hair cut by a simpleton. A stubborn … well, I’m a lady and won’t finish that. Load me up!”

Everyone bustled around, getting the old woman back into her wheelchair. Neesa tried to smooth the blanket over her legs and got smacked on her hand for the favor. Elfleda seriously had her dander up.

Charmaine and Chelly cowered behind the chair as Elfleda roared off toward the door. Sylvie held it open, standing to the side, afraid of being run over.

Elfleda screeched to a halt and gave Phae a hard final look. “Didn’t you go to a fancy school out east?”

Phae could only nod.

“Humph. And I thought you were supposed to be smart. Your parents ought to demand their tuition money back.”

With that parting shot, she whirred out the door, Charmaine and Chelly rushing behind, sending a final, apologetic glance at the three cousins.

“Damn,” Sylvie said as she closed the door.

“Damned straight,” Neesa said. “That was—”

They heard a roar from outside.

“Oh what the hell now?” Phae asked.

Sylvie peeped out the window. “Jugglers. And clowns. In the street. With a donkey cart.”

Phae took a deep breath and threw her hands in the air.

This was turning out to be a very, very long day.

Chapter 21

AS PHAE WAITED UNDERCOVER BEHIND Trapper’s Tavern, she reflected that the day had indeed been long and exhausting. At two o’clock sharp, the high school band had assembled on the street outside the shop and begun the most horrendous love song concert in the history of time.

She’d hoped that most of the music, if she could call it that, would be muffled since she was inside, but one flimsy wall proved scant protection against the cringe-worthy caterwauling. Phae thought she might never heal from the damage of the band’s tragic rendition of “Let’s Get It On.” Somewhere in heaven, Marvin Gaye wept.

Kent had been correct, however, about the spectators not leaving. The crowd grew steadily throughout the endless concert, which actually lasted less than an hour. Kent must have pulled some strings because by three o’clock, the band was replaced by the excellent high school choir, which helped to staunch the bleeding from everyone’s ear drums.

Phae couldn’t help but be proud of herself for how well she’d handled the situation. She’d remained calm and not lost her temper as person after person entered her shop and cut loose with one corny joke after another.

As for her tiny slip-up in Kent’s arms earlier in the day, she’d never denied that she found him attractive. She wouldn’t waste her time worrying about one failure. Next time, she’d be better prepared for his assault, if there were a next time.

The country music inside Trapper’s Tavern fell silent. Phae peeked around the corner of the building. As usual, only Leon’s and the owner’s vehicles remained in the parking lot. Once again, Phae had counted on her uncle’s pattern of being the last to leave as a crucial part of her night’s plan.

Only a thin sliver of moonlight hung in the black sky, meaning she was forced to rely heavily on her faulty night-vision monocle. She should have thrown the thing away, she thought as she flicked the plastic casing to bring it into focus. At least she wasn’t trying to plant a garden tonight, she thought wryly.

True to his routine, Leon stayed behind after the owner departed. Phae had been amused to note that her uncle had checked to make sure his truck would start before he yelled goodbye.

“Here we go, kitty,” she whispered to the small animal she held in her arms.

With a great, heaving push, she shoved a big piece of tin roofing onto some metal cans, unleashing a tremendous racket in the quiet countryside. She struggled to hold onto the startled cat.

Phae smiled when she heard Leon turn off his truck.

She quickly pitched a rock onto the tin roofing. Shortly, she heard footsteps crunching in the gravel parking lot.

When she saw the glow of Leon’s bouncing flashlight, she ducked around the back of the building.

“Hey!” Leon called out, rounding the side of the bar. “What’s going on back here?”

He clanked around among the junk for a few moments then muttered something about animals.

Phae waited until she was certain he’d decided to return to his truck. Crossing her fingers that she’d be heard over the chirping crickets, cicadas, tree frogs and other night singers, she called out to Leon in a deep, eerie voice, “Leeeonnn Jooooonessss.”

“Huh? Who is that?”

On silent feet, Phae dashed to the other side of the building, rounding the edge just as Leon and his flashlight turned the corner at the back of the bar.