The Billionaire Dating Game: A Romance Novel (12 page)

“Lisa, her temperature is over a hundred.” I turned to see Emma pulling on her jacket. “And her lymph nodes feel swollen. I’m going to take her to urgent care.”

“Happy now?” I asked the man. “We’re leaving.”

He sniffed at me and went back to his apartment. The lady across the hall slammed her door. Arlen was still wailing when I came back inside.

“You don’t have to come to urgent care,” Emma said. “I’ll take her myself.”

“But—”

“It was five hours of waiting last time,” she said. “You have your thing today. Go back to sleep. We’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” I said uncertainly.

“Absolutely.”

“Here, I’ll get the stroller.”

“I’ll just take her in the baby wrap. The elevator’s broken, remember?”

“Right, right.”

There was a loud knock on the ceiling from another person who obviously hated us. I could hear a muffled
Shut up!
come through.

“We have to move,” I grumbled. “This building is the worst.”

“I’ll see you later,” Emma said.

“Alright.” I bent and kissed Arlen’s feverish forehead. “Get better, princess.” Arlen sniffed once, then started crying again.

“Love you, lamebutt,” Emma said.

“Love you too, dorkface.” I swatted her butt as she went out the door with her crying baby.

I woke up to a loud banging. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I slouched over to the door and swung it open.

“Listen, asshole—” I said, and stopped right there.

It was Piers.

No. It wasn’t just Piers. It was Piers and his camera crew. One of the cameramen looked winded. I gulped back my surprise.

“Good morning to you, too, sweetheart,” he said, beaming at me. “Love the outfit.”

I looked down. I was still wearing my ninja turtle flannel pajama pants and a white tank top. With no bra. I crossed my arms over my chest.

“I—I must have overslept,” I said, my brain still waking up. “Give me a minute to change.”

“No time, love,” Piers said. His eyes swept down over my body again and I felt his gaze like a physical thing running over my skin. It made me shiver. “We have to go. Car is double parked downstairs.”

I scowled at him for calling me
love
.

“Great. Let me at least put on a bra.”

“I will generously agree to let you put on a bra,” Piers said. “Even though it will hurt the show’s ratings.”

“Thank you
so much
,” I said. How had I fallen for this guy? All he was concerned about was his stupid show.

“Where’s your luggage?” he asked, once I’d popped back out of the bathroom.

“Just this,” I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. I shoved the dress that I was supposed to be wearing in the side pocket of the bag. It would have to wait.

“Allow me,” Piers said.

“I’m good,” I said, hefting the bag higher on my arm as we shuffled back down the stairs.

“Just trying to be a gentleman,” Piers said, acting miffed.

“Oh? Is that a first for you?”

“That elevator, is it always broken?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Every other Tuesday. Also when the moon is full. Also on grocery days. Always on grocery days.”

“Hm.”

“I have really bad luck with elevators,” I said, giving him a meaningful look.

Piers hadn’t spoken to me after our little encounter at my office. I hadn’t expected him to, I guess. It would have been nice if he had at least texted, though. But I suppose you don’t text one-afternoon stands.

It didn’t surprise me. But it was a bit disappointing. He seemed not to want to even mention it. His face was blank as he responded.

“So sorry to hear that.”

“Whatever. It’s good exercise,” I said, gritting my teeth as we went down the last set of stairs and exited out onto the sidewalk. I didn’t look back at Piers. I knew that if I did, I would go into a full-on flush. Just thinking about what he’d done to me in that elevator—

Piers stopped me with one hand on my arm. Immediately, he pulled his hand back, but it was too late for me. Heat rushed through my body. I bit my lip and steeled myself, telling myself that I shouldn’t be so sensitive. Piers didn’t seem like he’d even noticed my reaction.

“What is it?” I asked.

“This is us,” Piers said, gesturing. I looked down at the car.

“A—a limo?”

It was a white stretch limo that took up most of the block. I whistled through my teeth. I’d never ridden in a limo before.

“Oh my God, is that Piers Letocci?” a woman squealed. A security guard stepped in front of her.

Piers opened the door and waved me in quickly.

“After you, Lisa.”

“Such a gentleman,” I said.

Piers stepped in after me. The camera crew was piling in on the front half of the limo. I slid into the seat. It was eggplant-colored leather, with cream trim all around the interior. In the front, the lady was banging on the window and trying to look in.

“Piers! Piers! I love you!”

“Sounds like you have a fan,” I said, raising my eyebrows.

“Let’s go,” Piers said, snapping his fingers.

“Are you seriously not even going to say hi? Sign an autograph?”

“It’s too early in the morning for that,” Piers said.

The limo pulled away, leaving the woman on the sidewalk. I stared back after her. She had a starstruck look on her face, her cell phone out to take a picture of the limo. It seemed like a total jerk move to drive away like she was nothing.

Maybe he
was
a total jerk. I’d been so attracted to him that I hadn’t really focused on anything else. Maybe I should have.

“I can’t believe you would just leave her standing there like that,” I said.

“I can’t believe you would open the door wearing those pajamas,” Piers snapped.

“What’s wrong with my pajamas?”

“Nothing. Are we rolling?”

The camera light flicked on and the camera guy gave a thumbs up.

“So Lisa, are you ready to meet your soulmate?”

I stared balefully at Piers. The camera light was on, and the boom mike was snuggled up on the ceiling of the limo near my head.

“Uh, sure,” I said.

“You don’t sound excited,” he said. There was a hint of irritation in his voice.

“I don’t really—um—believe in soulmates,” I said, settling back in my seat and looking around. “This is a cool limo. I’ve never been in a limo before.”

“Why not?”

“Why haven’t I been in a limo?”

“Why don’t you believe in soulmates?”

Piers was only half turned toward me. I realized that he was angling himself to get a better shot for the camera. Ugh. Such a self-absorbed jerk. I was starting to get angry with myself for ever having fallen for him and his lame pickup lines.
How many orgasms can I give you in a half an hour?
Ugh. I crossed my arms.

“I think that it’s a stupid concept. Mathematically, anyway. How many people are alive on Earth? Six, seven billion? Even if you narrow it down to men who are around my age, that’s still a few hundred million possibilities.”

“And you don’t think one of them is your soulmate?” Piers frowned.

“I think it’s dumb to say that only one of them could ever be my soulmate. What if my soulmate is a software engineer in India? What if he’s a Belgian grape farmer? That’s a whole lot more likely than finding true love in, oh, say, a New York elevator.”

Again, he looked irritated. Good.

“I don’t think anyone is saying you have to find true love in an elevator.”

“Of course not. You could have some
fun
in an elevator,” I said. “Maybe even find a really attractive guy to hook up with in an elevator. But then it turns out to be nothing at all and the guy is a jerk anyway.”

Piers glared at me. I glared right back.

“If I only have one soulmate, then I would probably never meet my soulmate,” I continued.

“That doesn’t mean he’s not out there.”

“Yeah, but that would mean that statistically, you’re not likely to end up with your soulmate at all.
Statistically
, my soulmate probably married a Chinese lady two years ago, and they already have a kid.”

I leaned back, raising my eyebrows. My logic was impeccable.

“So. You don’t think that you’re going to meet your soulmate today?”

“Apart from the whole issue of believing in souls, no. I think that’s stupid as hell. I’ll settle for any decent, intelligent, emotionally mature man who has his shit together. And for the record, I don’t think that’s settling.”

“Our billionaire wants to meet his soulmate today,” Piers insisted, his dark features drawn together.

“Then he’s not intelligent, and we wouldn’t be compatible anyway.” I shrugged. “No big deal.”

Piers leaned over suddenly and snapped off the camera. The red light disappeared.

“What are you doing, man?” the camera guy asked.

“What are
you
doing?” Piers hissed at me.

“Me? I’m telling the truth.”

“Can’t you pretend to be a little bit excited about meeting a billionaire? Just for one interview?”

“I don’t know. Can you pretend that I’m not a total idiot for a second and stop talking about soulmates like it’s something real?”

“One of our contestants is destined to win this competition—”

“
Destined?
” I laughed. “Please. You said yourself that reality TV was fake. Now you’re talking about
destiny
?”

Piers huffed and threw his hands up.

“I can’t believe you’re acting like this,” he said.

“Why are you so upset?” I asked. “If this is about—”

“No,” Piers said, cutting me off. His eyes warned me not to say any more in front of the crew members. I clamped my lips shut and stared back at him. “I’m giving you a chance here.”

“Really? I thought you needed some comic relief. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

“Is that why you’re dressed like the world’s biggest slob, too? Because you think this is all a joke?”

“Ouch,” I said, sarcasm dripping from my tongue. I couldn’t believe that I had ever felt attracted to this guy. He was nothing but a jerk. “Sorry for having a sick niece. I was up at five this morning dealing with a screaming baby.
That’s
why I’m dressed like this.”

“Fine. Fine,” he said. He rubbed his eyes. “Okay, let’s just finish this before we get to the penthouse. Cameras up.”

The red light flicked back on.

“I can’t wait to meet this billionaire!” I said. “I hope he’s the one, I really really do!”

Piers gritted his teeth into a fake smile. He pulled out a bottle of champagne from the sidebar and poured two glasses.  When he held one out to me, I beamed and flicked my hair over my shoulder.

“Every other girl I’ve interviewed has toasted to soulmates,” Piers said. “So what should we toast instead?”

“Let’s have a toast,” I said, “to reasonable expectations.”

“To reasonable expectations,” Piers said, clinking his glass to mine. “You are
so
romantic.”

“And you are
such
a gentleman.”

We glared at each other as we downed our champagne together in one gulp.

Chapter Thirteen

Piers held open every door for me, like he was going to prove that he wasn’t an asshole by sheer force of will. He even pretended to hold the elevator door open for me.

“After you,
love
,” he said.

The camera crew had gone up ahead of us, presumably to get a shot of us walking into the penthouse. Which meant that I was stuck in an elevator with Piers,
again
.

“As long as you don’t press the stop button,” I mumbled.

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Of course not. My pajamas aren’t sexy enough to compete with the rest of these girls, right?”

Piers turned to me. For a very brief moment, I thought he was going to shove me against the wall and kiss me again. But his face was filled with irritation, not desire.

“What’s the matter with you?” he said.

“Me?” I was astonished. “What’s the matter with
me?
”

“That’s what I’m asking.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s that I didn’t even get a chance to take a shower this morning, and then I had a camera thrust into my face, and then some asshole is making fun of my pajamas and telling me I’m not romantic enough.”

“You’re not romantic at all!” Piers said.

“I’m not gullible. There’s a difference. You don’t have to believe in soulmates to be romantic.”

“What was the last romantic thing you did?”

I cast around in my mind for the last romantic thing I’d done. I was pretty sure that watching
Ten Things I Hate About You
with Emma and Arlen was the closest I’d come to romance in the past year. But I wasn’t going to admit that, of course.

“I don’t have to answer that,” I said lamely.

“That’s because you don’t have an answer.”

“Do you think that
you’re
romantic?” I flung back at him. The best defense was a good offense, after all.

“Maybe.”

“Flinging a girl down on the floor of an elevator? Is that romantic?”

“It was spontaneous.”

“So is nuclear decay. That doesn’t make it romantic.”

“Who’s talking about romance, anyway? I thought we were just having fun in that elevator,” Piers said. His face was turning red, and he looked completely different from how he’d looked at me in the limo. He looked…

He looked awkward. Like he was unsure of himself. It was very weird to see.

“Is that why you invited me onto the show?” I asked.

“I didn’t invite you,” Piers hissed. “The producers said they wanted you after that little fake audition. I had nothing to do with it!”

I flushed hard, swallowing back my embarrassment.

“You didn’t want me to be on the show?”

“I mean, at first, maybe.” Now he looked really flustered. He ran his hand through his dark hair. “You seemed like you might want… you know…”

“When did I ever seem like I would want to go on your reality TV show!?”

“The first time I met you!” Piers said. “You were having trouble finding a good guy to date. Weren’t you?”