Naked Canvas (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (6 page)

Angie:
Fine.

I clicked my phone off and headed for the shower.

***

The car stretched out along the curb in front of my building like a panther waiting to pounce. It was all slick lines and shiny chrome. I smoothed my gray pencil skirt over my hips and walked over to it, unsure whether to just climb in or what.

The older man I’d yelled at earlier at my apartment door sprang from the driver’s seat at my approach. He still wore an apologetic look on his face as he greeted me.

“Ms. Cooper, I have been instructed to offer you a ride to your meeting with Mr. Bell.”

He nodded and tipped his hat to me. The gesture felt old timey and sweet. He pulled the back seat door open and gestured me inside with a sweep of his arm.

“Madam.”

“Thank you.”

I slipped into the car and just about drowned in the supple black leather seats. They cushioned every part of my body as if it had been designed specifically for me. I almost purred at the luxurious comfort of it.

The driver resumed his position behind the wheel and eased out into traffic.

“Where are we heading?” I asked, wanting to make sure he wasn’t taking me to that damn studio which I had sworn I would never go back to.

“The Centennial Café.”

I knew the place, although I had never been inside. It was close to campus, but it seemed too expensive so I always walked past it. Dominic was pulling out all the stops. He could try to impress me all he wanted. It wouldn’t change the way I felt.

A hushed silence hung in the car. The noise from the bustling street didn’t penetrate its tinted windows. I’d ridden in a few cabs in my day, when I could afford it, but I’d never had my own private car. I cruised by the people walking along the sidewalks with harried expressions, and I felt like a movie star.

“So do you work for Dominic or what?” I asked, mostly to break the awkward silence.

The driver’s eyes flicked to the rear view mirror to look at me. “Mr. Bell? Yes. I have been in his employ for several years.”

Mr. Bell? It was weird to hear someone call him that. He was only a few years older than me and a rumpled looking art student to boot. Yet this man had been working for Dominic for years? Something didn’t add up.

“I’m confused. You work for Dominic?”

“Yes, madam.”

“Are you his driver or his messenger?”

“I tend to many aspects of Mr. Bell’s life. Anything that he requires.”

“What am I missing? Is Dominic rich or something?”

“I really couldn’t say, madam.”

I nodded. Of course he wouldn’t tell me anything. The man seemed like a loyal servant. Something occurred to me.

“Hey, I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier. You caught me at a bad time.”

“Not at all, madam. My sincerest apologies for interrupting you.”

Even though he had dismissed my apology, I felt his attitude toward me shift. The mood in the car became considerably lighter.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Ahh, Cavanaugh, madam.”

I smiled. “Alright, Cavanaugh. Please call me, Angie. Madam is way too formal for a gal like me.”

“Certainly, madam. Ahh, Angie.”

I giggled. “Much better.” His eyes crinkled in amusement. “You have any family, Cavanaugh?”

“Not any more,” he said. “I was married once, but sadly, Mrs. Cavanaugh passed away many years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s quite alright. And you?”

“I have a brother I never see. My parents passed away a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, as well.”

“Thank you. So how do you like working for Dominic?”

He paused for a moment, as if unsure whether to answer. “I like it very much, actually. I used to work for his father until he passed away.”

So Dominic came from money. That made a lot more sense. It’s easy to live a carefree artist’s life when you’re spending Daddy’s fortune.

“Were you and him close?”

“No, I don’t suppose so. I was more of an employee to him. Not like with Mr. Bell.”

“You two are friends?”

“I’ve known him since he was a boy. He’s more like family. Like the son I never had.”

“Right on.”

“Are you two dating—” he cut himself off. “My apologies, madam. I forgot myself. That was an impolite question.”

I flashed him a warm smile in the rear view mirror. “Relax, Cavanaugh. It’s fine. And please call me Angie. To answer your question. No. We’re just friends. Well, not even that come to think of it. Business acquaintances, I guess.”

“Well, I don’t like to meddle in people’s private affairs, but if you don’t mind me saying, I think that’s a shame. Mr. Bell could use a nice woman like you in his life.”

I laughed and shook my head. “That’s sweet of you to say, Cavanaugh, but that’s just not in the cards.”

Chapter 7

The car pulled up in front of the Centennial. Warm golden light spilled out of the place and into the muted colors of the street. Cavanaugh jumped out and opened my door. I struggled out of the back seat, doing my best to not flash my panties to Cavanaugh as well as the pedestrians on the street.

“Thank you, Cavanaugh.”

“My pleasure, Angie. I hope to see you again soon.” He tipped his hat to me.

I smiled at him. “Me too.”

He disappeared into the driver’s seat, and I stood alone looking into the Centennial. The café was full of trendy looking people sitting at polished wooden tables. I saw no sign of Dominic. Of course he was going to make me wait. Typical. At least I could pick our table. Something out in the open would be better. Something that didn’t feel intimate.

I strode into the café and approached the hostess. She was thin and pretty and draped in fine silk and wool. She made me feel out of place in my simple clothes like I was a country mouse invading the city mouse’s territory. It wouldn’t have bothered me so much if we hadn’t been about the same age. In another world, the cute, stylish girl in the fancy café could have been me.

“Hi! Welcome to the Centennial.” Her voice was warm and friendly. I felt like an asshole for hating her.

“Hi. I’m supposed to be meeting someone here. Dominic.”

Her eyes went wide. “Mr. Bell?”

Again with the Mr. Bell. “Yes. Mr. Bell.”

“Wow, yes, of course. Right this way.” Stupid pride surged through me when I realized that this girl was now jealous of me. I followed her to the very back of the place where less people were gathered and the sounds of conversation dimmed.

Dominic was sitting at a private booth. He stared into his coffee as if it held the secrets of the world. Damn him, he even looked beautiful doing nothing.

His blue eyes lit up when he saw me and he stood up from his seat.

“Angela,” he said anxiously. “Thank you for coming.”

The hostess just stood there watching us, mouth agape.

“Thank you, Nicky,” he said. “That will be all.”

She nodded, almost curtsying, and hurried away.

“Please, sit down.”

He gestured at the seat across from him. The tall booth swallowed me as I slid into it. I felt like a little kid at the grown up table. He resumed his seat across from me.

“You look lovely,” he said.

Here we go, I thought.

“This isn’t a date, Dominic, so you can save the compliments.”

“It wasn’t a compliment. Just the truth.”

I sighed. “So you said you wanted to explain what happened.”

“Yes.” He seemed like he was about to continue when the waitress showed up to take my order.

“Can I get you anything? Some coffee?”

“No, thanks. Me and coffee aren’t speaking right now.”

She stood there looking confused. I waved her away, not caring if I looked like a bitch. I
was
being a bitch. I had to be if I wanted to stay in control of my emotions. Bitchiness was my armor in this battle. She glided away.

“You were saying,” I said, gesturing for Dominic to continue.

“Yes, about last night. First of all, I want to say that I had a great time. And I think you did too. What’s going on between us—“

“Stop right there. There is nothing going on between us, okay? Get that straight. I came here for an explanation and maybe an apology for humiliating me. That’s it.”

“I never meant to humiliate you.”

“But that’s what happened whether you meant to do it or not. Who the hell
was
that, Dominic?”

He ran a hand through his dark, messy hair. “Just someone from my past.”

“‘Just someone from my past,’” I said in a mocking impression of his voice. “Cut the cryptic bullshit.”

His eyes narrowed and glared at me. I glared back.

“Fine,” he said. “Her name is Gillian. We used to date. Briefly.”

“Used to date? She seemed to be pretty pissed off at finding us together. Which doesn’t seem like ‘used to’ to me.”

“I promise you, it’s over. It’s been over for a long time. Gillian was a mistake.”

“Oh yeah, then how did she get into your studio? I saw you lock the door.”

“She had a key.”

“A key? Are you kidding me? Do you give keys to all the girls you date ‘briefly?’”

“No, dammit, she was my assistant. ‘Was’ being the operative word. That’s why she had a key.”

“Oh, there it is. Your assistant. So what, when you were done sleeping with her, you put her to work?”

“No. She started working for me, and we ended up dating for a while. It didn’t work out.”

“Why? Did she catch you cheating with someone else before she caught you cheating with me?”

“You and I weren’t cheating. I ended things with Gillian weeks ago. She wanted all the wrong things from our relationship. Plus, she’s got a hell of a temper.”

“Yeah, well, so do I.”

He studied the angry lines of my face and said nothing.

“So is that it?” I asked. “Are we done?”

“I certainly hope not. Like I said, I had a really good time.”

“Well I didn’t. You got me drunk, had your way with me, and then threw me out of your apartment naked. That’s not my idea of a good time.”

It was his turn to be angry. “First of all, I didn’t throw you out. You ran away before I could stop you.”

“Gillian threw me out and you didn’t stop
her
.”

“Gillian is a greedy brat with a mean streak. I was trying to calm things down when you bolted. If you had waited like two goddamn minutes, you would have seen me kicking Gillian out. And for the record, I did not get you drunk. Not on purpose.” He leaned in and lowered his voice to a whisper. “And you’re the one who came on to me.”

He was breathing heavily and his eyes seemed to blaze at me. His hands were flat on the table and he leaned forward, as if he were about to lunge.

“Because you got me drunk.”

“Is that the only reason? Are you sure?”

“Okay, fine. Maybe we were both having fun. But the end ruined it.” I searched for a way to explain it. “It’s like a piece of the best cake in the world. No matter how good it is, if I find a hair in the last bite, the whole thing is ruined.”

His shoulders loosened and he leaned back in the booth. “Okay. Good point. I really am sorry for that. It was inexcusable. But I promise it will never happen again. I took Gillian’s key away and made it clear that we are finished.”

“What the hell was she doing there anyway?”

“She was trying to get me back. Her timing was extremely unfortunate. She brought over a bottle of wine, which she dropped and I had to clean up. I guess she thought she could get me drunk and have her way with me.” He said it with a little smirk.