Driven by Love (2 page)

“
Bobby
!”

She took another deep breath. “You can do this, Bobby. You’re a strong woman. You can’t be affected.
You don’t love him anymore
.” And today was the most important day to prove it.

F looked at her oddly as she emerged from the powder room. “Are you okay?”

F wasn’t his real name, but it was how her boss wanted to be called. According to society gossip, F stood for three things: French, Fashion, and “Fuck You”, which the sixty-something self-made millionaire liked to say to every lazy-ass individual he happened to meet.

“Bobby?”

No, of course she was not freaking okay. She had just found out that her ex-boyfriend was in America when all this time, she thought an entire ocean still stood between them. How the hell could she be okay? She needed that much space from him to survive. And now, that space was gone.
 

But out loud all she said was, “I’m really fine. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” She had her pride, after all.

“Truthfully, Bobby, between Nessa and me, it wouldn’t be too hard to pick the bikers for the opening act before the race.”
 

Today was the last day of auditions for bikers to make up their next fundraiser’s opening act, and Bobby’s conscience wouldn’t allow her to bail at the last minute, knowing Nessa and F’s weakness for sexy men in leather. “I can’t trust the two of you to do this right. You’d probably end up picking the hottest-looking bikers and never mind if the only kind of bike they can ride are those with training wheels.”

F harrumphed. “You wound me.” Her boss started walking, leaving Bobby no choice but to reluctantly fall into step next to him. Each step made it more difficult for her to breathe. She started to wonder if
he
would feel the same at the thought of meeting her again, after all this time, but pushed the thought away a moment later.

Just because they were now both on the same continent didn’t mean he was back in her life again.
 

He wasn’t.

He couldn’t ever be again.

Before exiting the dugout, F’s steps halted and when she looked at him questioningly, he said in a more sober tone, “I’m serious, Bobby. I thought you knew since the news came out last night—”

She explained tonelessly, “I was asleep when the news broke out. And by the time I realized…he was here, I just couldn’t make myself…” Bobby inhaled deeply. “I just don’t want him to think I’m still affected.”

Not wanting to talk anymore about The Person Who Didn’t Deserve to be Named, Bobby took the first step out of the dugout. Harsh afternoon sunlight immediately blazed down on her, and she shielded her gaze as if the brightness was hurting her eyes. In truth, however, she just wanted a moment to compose herself – a moment to school her expression so that every darn reporter zealously waiting for her to react would have
nothing
to gossip about.
 

Because that was how she felt.

How
he
had left her feeling.

Nothing.

When F reached her side, they began walking together, both of them ignoring the paps in silent agreement. It wasn’t like they hadn’t done this before. F was one of the few openly gay millionaires in the world, and just a few months ago, it had been F targeted by the press when word broke out that his long-term partner had embezzled money from him. That time, it had been Bobby who helped him pick up the pieces. Now, F considered it his turn to return the favor.

Dozens of camera bulbs were furiously flashing, their lenses zoomed in, all of the reporters desperate to catch a possible glimpse of the philanthropic heiress’ reaction. Bobby Granger was still an enigma to them. She was so unfashionable, almost fat, and very dull, with not a scandal attached to her name. How in the world had she made someone like Leandro Christopoulos fall in love with her? Could it be true that all this time the Greek billionaire had even pined for her? And how was it that she had managed to do it again, capturing the heart of yet another beautiful Greek god?

Life was so very unfair
, the more malicious members of the lot thought, and so they glared as Bobby Granger walked past them at a leisurely pace.
 

“They hate you,” F whispered to her cheerfully as they joined the rest of the staff at the center of the circuit. He was of the mind that any publicity was
good
publicity. Although he hurt for Bobby, his mind was already trying to come up with ways on how to turn this sudden furor of the media over Bobby to the foundation’s advantage.

“I know,” she whispered back in the same tone even though she really wasn’t cheerful. Everyone was still either staring or glaring at her, and when she felt beads of sweat starting to drip down her forehead, Bobby quickly wiped them away. She didn’t want to give the paps any chance to take a photo and make her sweat look like tears running down her face.
 

Bobby focused her attention on the small group of bikers preparing for their “audition”. All of them were tall and powerfully built, with their helmets on and wearing leather jackets and pants. In other words, they were out to impress and be the one biker to perform the opening act for their next fundraiser.

F waved at her to join him. “Quite a turnout, isn’t it? There are still more reporters coming in – I think you should hold a press conference. But make them promise that they’ll cover our next fundraiser first.”

“You’re so opportunistic.” But she was smiling when she said it. F
was
opportunistic, but then so was she.
 

“I have absolutely no plans arguing on that score,” F said with a wink. “That’s why I’ve got a quarter billion in my bank account.” Pulling out his pink handkerchief from the breast pocket of his shiny silver three-piece suit, F began patting his face dry of sweat.
 

Bobby rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you just take off your blazer?”

“And let all those gorgeous bikers see my waistline? Are you kidding me?”

“I’m pretty sure they’re all straight.”

“I’m pretty sure my money can convince them otherwise.” F glanced back at the bikers. “Ready to see the first one perform his stunt?”
 

Bobby nodded.

F did a little hand wave and the first biker revved his bike, the roar of its engine powerful enough to give Bobby a little shiver. There was also this tiniest twinge in her heart, a faded memory of a photo shoot where she had sat on
his
lap in his bike, but she shook the thought away as well.
 

A gust of wind hit her, and Bobby looked up just in time to see the biker speed past her, shooting up the ramp at such incredible speed she couldn’t help holding her breath like everyone as the biker soared over the ramp and drove dead center into the metal ring suspended from two steel poles.

Applause broke out as the biker made a 180-degree twist in the air to face the crowd of reporters by the time his bike hit the ground.

F let out a loud wolf whistle even as he whispered to Bobby, “This one I don’t care what he looks like. He definitely needs to be part of the front act.”

“He definitely went all out with that one,” she murmured. “Maybe the guy needs a huge backer.” Her mind was already busy going through the foundation’s list of sponsors. Maybe Kastein, Inc. would sponsor the biker if he went pro. The company’s Dutch billionaire CEO could be quite generous given the right project or beneficiary.

“Do you have his CV with you?” Bobby asked.

“It’s with Nessa.” F called their most recently recruited heiress over.
 

The bubbly blonde skipped to them, and Bobby couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Nessa Carmichael was already in her mid-twenties, but she still acted like a high school girl most times. “Yes, boss?”

“Bobby wants to look at the first performer’s resume.”

Dismay fell over Nessa’s face. “Oh, umm, well, you see…”

“Don’t play cute with us, Nessa. You know it won’t work.”

Nessa blurted out, “I don’t have it. He was a last minute addition, and he told me he really wanted to be a part of this so…I felt bad for him and let him audition.”

“Do you have his name at least?” Bobby asked.

Nessa nodded eagerly. “He said his name was…” Her brow furrowed. “It sounded like coffee.”

“
Coffee
?” F and Bobby were both bemused.

The biker who had just performed was heading towards them now, and Bobby wondered if it would be safe to accept him as part of the opening act when apparently he hadn’t gone through the foundation’s preliminary checks. Bobby liked being thorough and always requested for background checks on anyone who had business with the foundation. She didn’t want anyone with a criminal background – and that included speeding tickets – within a mile of her kids.

“Nessa, his name, please,” F said impatiently.

“I’m trying to remember it…I swear it really did sound something like coffee…”

The biker had reached them, and Bobby belated realized he was much taller than he had seemed from afar, forcing her to look up. Something about him was terribly familiar, and her heart started to beat a crazy erratic rhythm.

Surely, it couldn’t be—

Nessa exclaimed, “I got it!” A smile broke over her face. “He said his name was
kópanos.”

Bobby’s heart crashed.

The biker slowly took off his helmet.

Leandro Christopoulos smiled at her. “Hello, mégaira.”

Chapter Two

Inhale, exhale.

This time, Bobby was locked inside the private bathroom of the VIP box of the stadium, but everything else was the same. Its marble walls couldn’t mute the sound of the noise outside. Earlier, it was the roar of motorcycle engines and the clamor of the press. This time, what she heard was a mixture of laughter and chattering voices as the staff of Needs Heard mingled with the staff of the public relations department of Christopoulos, Inc.

She gave herself a Mean Look through the mirror. “
You don’t love him anymore
.”

But again, her heart proved stubborn as it continued to ache and bleed.
 

Bobby began texting.

Bobby: WTF are you?

Sabastian: Five minutes,
moro mou.

Bobby: Make it four.

Sabastian: I’ll make it three if you promise me a kiss.

Bobby: Just hurry!

After pressing Send, she slipped the phone back into her pocket and gave herself another Mean Look. “You can do this, Bobby.”

When she emerged from the powder room, Bobby saw F waving at her excitedly. She could practically see the dollar signs shining in his eyes and knew that no matter how she felt now, this project would be a go.

“Sorry if I took so long,” she murmured as she joined F and the woman he was talking to. The two stood next to the glass walls overlooking the circuit, where the rest of the bikers were performing under Nessa’s flirtatious eye. The crowd of paps was still there, too, and at the sight of Bobby peering through the glass walls, all cameras immediately swung towards her direction.

She quickly pulled back, just in time to hear F say, “Bobby, this is Anna Largess, the head of Versatile.” Anna was tall, blonde, and svelte looking, and her china-blue eyes were cold and hard as they raked Bobby from head to toe.

“Anna, I’d like you to officially meet Bobby Granger, who we all look upon as our Wonder Woman because of how skilled she is at making rich men stay true to their donation pledges.”

Anna’s tone was cool as she murmured, “It’s a delight to finally meet you, Ms. Granger. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Oh really? Is that why you’ve decided to surprise us with the identity of your client?” She knew for a fact that F and Anna had spoken at length about their planned fundraiser, and not once had Anna mentioned that the client of her publicity firm was none other than Christopoulos, Inc.

“I thought it would be a nice surprise,” Anna answered smoothly, “knowing that it’s been quite some time since you and Leandro have seen each other.” Her eyes widened dramatically. “Oh, but sorry – I had assumed you’ve already moved on since you’re with Sabastian Gabris.”

So Anna the Bitch was on first name basis with
him.
The thought almost caused Bobby’s smile to falter, but she was able to keep her voice neutral as she said, “Nothing to apologize about. F and I always welcome every opportunity to give the kids a chance to enjoy new experiences.”