The Billionaire's Secret (6 page)

“Am I early?” he asked as his eyes took in
her attire.

And it begins.
“No, not all at.
You’re right on time, Mr. Vinchi. Let me grab my things and we can
go.”

She was dying to see the expression on his
face, but instead she turned and grabbed the bag she had purposely
left right by the front door. She walked past him onto the porch
and closed the door behind her, not so subtly hinting,
You are
not welcome in my home.

Parked directly in front of her modest home
for the second time in twenty-four hours was a limo. Last night she
had no choice as to her transportation, since Elaine had made all
the arrangements. Today she was in control, and her arrangements
did not include anything close to a limo.

Stepping off the porch, she pulled her keys
from her jeans pocket and held them up without turning toward him.
“I’ll drive,” she said as she walked to her more than slightly
beat-up 1970 Volkswagen Bug, with its original red paint job—or
what was left of it. Lizette hopped into the driver’s seat fully
expecting to hear an argument, but to her surprise Jon opened the
passenger door and sat down next to her.

“Are you sure this thing is going to get us
to whatever
event
we’re going to?” Jon’s tone held a bit of
sarcasm in it.

She couldn’t blame him, but still she hoped
he’d soon get the point that he wasn’t wanted here, get out of the
car, and go back to his limo, back to where he belonged. Patting
the dashboard, Lizette said, “She’s a classic, but don’t feel
obligated to come with me. We can end this
date
now if you
wish.”

“Hate to be the one to inform you, Lizette,
but I don’t believe the old Volkswagen Bugs ran great when they
were brand new, so I don’t know how you think it would be
considered reliable almost forty-five years later.”

Jon had not acknowledged her other comment,
so she started the car and pulled out of the driveway. Lizette did
not want to be spending the day with him and planned on making sure
it was obvious all day if she had to. One solid way was the silent
treatment—at least, it always seemed effective in the romance
novels she read.

The drive took only about five minutes, but
she could feel his eyes on her the entire way. He obviously didn’t
know who he was messing with if he thought she would give in and
break the silence. Instead, she gripped the steering wheel tighter
and tried to focus strictly on her driving.

Thank God,
she thought as she finally
pulled into a parking spot at a local park.

“We’re here.” Lizette opened the door and
got out.

Jon followed. “And exactly where is here?”
he asked as he scanned the area for a sign.

Lizette pointed down to where a group of all
ages had gathered and was already being handed assignments by what
looked like the event’s leader.

“Cold Spring Park. This is the event we’re
attending. We’re going to clean and repair the park.” She could not
help herself. She turned to him with a smile and said, “Mr. Vinchi,
I guess this is not the type of event you expected, or what you’re
used to attending.”

“Is it that obvious I expected something
different?” he asked sarcastically. “What is also obvious is the
lack of surprise by this fact. Could it be you neglected to give
more details on this event on purpose?”

Acting shocked, Lizette said, “Now, Mr.
Vinchi, why would I do such a thing to someone as important as
you?” Her smile looked less innocent as she continued. “You don’t
have to stay. Feel free to call a cab and go back to your office. I
am sure there are other ways you can spend your day. I’m staying,
and we are late. I need to head down and grab an assignment before
they’re all gone.”

Without looking back, she headed across the
parking lot. To save time, she opted to walk down the park’s steep
hill instead of taking a set of stairs farther away. She joined the
group a moment before it began to disperse.

***

Jon continued to stand by the car as Lizette
walked to meet the group. His eyes roamed over her backside.
Without a doubt, she was beautiful and sexy, with a fiery
personality. Last night he’d been drawn to her, and he had to admit
she’d provided him with some sweet dreams overnight, but today, the
way those jeans hugged her ass and the way she swayed those hips
was more than tempting—it was driving him crazy.
There is no way
she’s not doing that on purpose
. His body reacted as he thought
of grabbing her ass and pulling her toward him while he tasted that
sassy little mouth. He would love to pull that tight T-shirt off
her and suck the nipples that continuously pressed against the
cloth, begging to be released. She could pretend to be reserved,
but something told him she would be a freak between the sheets—and
that thought only enhanced the tightness in his pants.

A horn beeped behind him, interrupting his
fantasy. He scanned the park for Lizette. More time had passed than
he thought because she was already working, painting the bottom of
what he thought was a seesaw, if memory served. It had been many
years since he was in a children’s play area. Thinking back, the
last time he had “played” was probably when he was ten. Times were
different then. He was different then. That was before his father
died.
No time to waste on children’s games then, and no time to
waste on adult games now
.

Returning his focus to Lizette, he noticed
she was no longer working alone. Several men had joined her
project. From where he stood he could see she was talking and
laughing with them.
Funny, she wouldn’t speak to me all the way
here
. He didn’t know what had changed in her since last night.
She was upset, but he had no idea why. If anyone should be upset,
it should be him, as he was the one who’d been raffled off and was
now losing valuable time when he should be working on the changes
needed for the FDA. Lizette laughed again at what one of the men
said.
Whatever game you’re playing, Lizette, I will figure it
out before the day is done.
For now, he had work to do.

He made his way to the young man who seemed
to be in charge of handing out assignments.

“I’m here to volunteer. Where do you want me
to start?”

The young man shook his head. “You sure
you’re in the right place?”

Yes, I know, I’m overdressed
. “Are
you in charge of the assignments or not?”

“Yes, sir, I am.” The man flipped through
his clipboard several times and muttered nervously, “You could, um
. . . let’s see . . . ah, well, there’s, um . . .”

“Do you have something for me to do or not?”
Jon asked firmly.

The man looked at Jon, almost afraid to
speak. “There is one thing, but I don’t believe it’s what you were
looking for.”

“I am here to volunteer. Whatever it is will
be fine.”

“Okay. All that’s left is going around and
collecting trash from the other volunteers.”

“Fine. Where do I get some bags?”

The man pointed to a stash of supplies, and
then again to a nearby dumpster. With a nod, he was off to start
his work.

Really? Trash?
This day really wasn’t
going the way he’d envisioned on the way to Lizette’s home this
morning. A nice dinner, maybe a walk on a beach, and some hot
sweaty sex afterward.
Nope, not at all
.

Jon walked back to Lizette’s car, removed
his tie and jacket, and rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned the
collar of his white dress shirt. There was no way he was going to
be comfortable working in these clothes, but he wasn’t going to
back down from the challenge that was written on her T-shirt. He
was looking forward to showing her just how dirty he could get.

He needed to get past the park cleanup first
so he made his way back to the park, retrieved the bags, and
meandered from the jungle gym to the monkey bars, to the swing
sets, slides, and merry-go-round, making several trips to the
dumpster along the way. He was amazed by how much trash he
collected.

He encountered a lot of stares and overheard
a few comments about him, but no one talked to him directly. Then a
boy in his mid-teens approached Jon, some trash in hand. He looked
Jon up and down and said, “Hey, mister, you get lost on your way to
a wedding or something?” Then he laughed.

“Not quite.”

“I’m done fixing the swings—you want some
help with the trash?”

Why not,
Jon thought. He could use
the company. Not the company he’d thought he’d be enjoying today,
but it would still help pass the time.

“Sure. What’s your name?”

“Bobby.”

“Nice to meet you, Bobby. I’m Jon.” The two
shook hands, and Bobby started to help Jon collect the trash.

“Jon, I haven’t seen you around before. You
new here?”

“Just visiting.”

“Cool.”

“You seem to know your way around. Do you
help out often?”

“Yeah. There’s always something like this
going on, once a month. This is my neighborhood. My five younger
brothers come here all the time with my ma—well, really my grandma,
but everyone calls her Ma. Last month, my youngest brother, Danny,
had to have stitches ’cause his foot got cut up real bad by a
broken bottle at the bottom of that slide.” He pointed to the
slides and shook his head. “Man, Ma was so pissed she refuses to
bring my brothers back here until the park was cleaned up and made
safe again. So that’s why we’re all here today.” He looked Jon over
and asked, “Why are you here, Jon? Are you someone famous? You do
something illegal, drugs or alcohol, and get community service
instead of jail time? Man, I see that all the time on TV.”

Wow, what a great question. But the truth
was so shallow.
I am here because I was raffled off last night,
and the woman who won me decided to bring me here instead of the
exotic place that had been planned
. No. Not the time to be
honest. “I didn’t do anything illegal. I’m only here to help, just
like you.”

“Cool, next time get here earlier, and you
won’t get stuck on trash duty. That’s the worst. Oh, and you might
want to wear jeans and boots too, or everybody is going think
you’re crazy.” Bobby laughed.

Next time,
he thought. “I’ll keep
that in mind, Bobby.”

The two of them continued to chat throughout
the afternoon. The last bag of trash had been thrown in the
dumpster, and they were about to part ways when Lizette approached
them.

“Hey, Miss Lizette, Ma said don’t forget to
come by for dinner,” Bobby told her.

“Sorry, Bobby, I won’t be able to make it. I
already have dinner plans tonight.”

“Ah, Miss Lizette, you always come to dinner
every Saturday. Can’t you blow off the other plans?”

Jon knew he was the plans she had referred
to. “Bobby, Lizette already has plans with me for dinner.”

Bobby looked from Jon to Lizette and then
back to Jon. “Cool. You both can come. I’ll let Ma know.” Not
bothering to wait for a reply, Bobby took off running back toward
the group.

Jon thought Bobby was a good kid, but he
really did not want to share his one evening with Lizette with
Bobby and his family, no matter how nice they were. He was hoping
to continue what they had started last night. But first he needed
to figure out why he was getting the cold-as-ice treatment from her
today.

“So what do you think? Dinner with Bobby’s
family or alone with me?” he asked.

Jon saw her cheeks flush, but to his
disappointment she answered, “It’s a tradition. Bobby’s
family.”

Damn, should have known,
he thought
as they walked back to her car. It was only dinner—how long could
that last? There also was something appealing in the thought of
seeing how she spent her Saturday nights. They would have the rest
of the night alone.

Jon had surprised her several times today.
She tried to ignore him as she painted the seesaw, but her eyes
kept wandering in his direction. When he had left from getting his
assignment and walked back to the car, she was positive he was
going to wait for her there or even call a cab and leave, but when
she saw him collecting trash and then later heard his deep husky
voice chatting with Bobby, she was dumbfounded. She wasn’t usually
attracted to men dressed to impress; she couldn’t help but watch
his every movement. The way his half-open shirt pressed against his
chest and pulsing biceps only added to the heat of the day.
If
only he wasn’t a liar,
she thought as they drove to Ma’s
house.

She pulled into the driveway, where they
were met by Bobby and his five brothers, shouts of, “Hi, Miss
Lizette!” echoing through the bunch.

Bobby’s grandma was standing on the porch.
As always, her salt-and-pepper hair was pulled back in bobby pins,
and her famous apron bearing the words
All Welcome
was tied
around her waist. She called for the children to go wash their
hands, and without hesitation they all ran back into the house.
How, at sixty-four, she was able to handle six boys the way she did
always amazed Lizette. It was obvious that she offered them her
unconditional love.

“Are you going to sit in that car all night,
Lizette, or are you going to bring that handsome friend of yours in
here for dinner before it gets cold?” Ma called from the porch.

Lizette turned to Jon and said, “One thing I
know is, if we don’t get in there in the next two minutes, she will
withhold dessert—which, by the way, is the best apple pie in the
state of Rhode Island, and I’m not willing to miss out on it.”

Without hesitation they quickly made their
way to the porch and were instantly engulfed with the wonderful
aroma of home cooking. They stopped for a moment to take it in.
Then, opening the front door, Lizette turned to Jon and said with a
smile, “I’d know that smell anywhere; Jon, you are in for a treat
tonight.” She didn’t wait for a response as she headed for the
kitchen, with Jon following close behind.