Win a Filthy Bad Boy: A Bad Boy Romance (21 page)

BOOK: Win a Filthy Bad Boy: A Bad Boy Romance
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“You're in today?” Johnny threw his arm Bonnie's neck. “You never bothered to come and say hi? Typical celeb.”

 

Bonnie rolled her eyes. “Yeah right, and hating every second of it.”

 

“Well, I didn't know if Chad stole you and sailed with you into the sunset already,” Johnny said with a smile.

 

“No chance of that happening, I haven't seen hide nor hare of him since the show.”

 

“Typical. Another opportunistic asshole. Anywho… where are you scurrying off to in a hurry?”

 

“Al said to take the day off—”

 

“Great, how about we do lunch? You've been back for weeks now and I haven't been able to get hold of you.”

 

“Yeah, well I had to turn my cell off. It was either that or change my number.”

 

“They've been that bad, huh?”

 

“Yup. I’ve been called by just about every agent around, magazines have been hounding me for interviews, and don't get me started on the creeps who call and describe what they want to do to me.” Bonnie groaned in a voice that sounded like the voice of death.

 

“Right. I'm buying you lunch. We can talk about whatever you want and I'm not taking no for an answer.”

 

***

 

Johnny ran a hand through his air and exhaled sharply. “You can't be serious.”

 

“I don't even care about the Stephanie Stein story.” Bonnie was suddenly very tired. She hadn't gotten much sleep lately and a nap was calling her name.

 

The café wasn't crowded. It was always quiet, which worked for Bonnie. Johnny sneeringly remarked that it was free of hipsters because it was so mundane. It differed from the other downtown restaurants by trying not to standout and instead trying to fit it.

 

“You wanted it for all this time, you finally got it, now you don't want it?”

 

“That about sums it,” Bonnie mumbled incoherently. Her attention drifted away from her glass of Shiraz and Margherita pizza, which did nothing to assuage the rising anxiety inside her. Her mind was a flurry of upheaval.

 

“Like… damn Bonnie.”

 

“I got a taste of what Stephanie must have gone through. I don't see any sense in prying into her life anymore than the media already have. She's doesn't want to talk to the media. I want to respect her wish.”

 

Johnny nodded. “So are you still covering that party the network is throwing for Chad?”

 

“Yeah, it was a favor for Al. Don’t you have to get back to the office?” Bonnie asked.

 

“Nah, I'll stay a little longer,” Johnny said, after checking his watch.

 

“Wait. I forgot. There's no way Al would fry your ass since you’re his special guy.”

 

“Come on, stop. Al treats me the same as everybody else.”

 

“Seriously, you must be blind.” Bonnie raised an eyebrow. “You ever wonder why you don't catch heat from Al whenever you fuck up?”

 

“Whatever you say,” Johnny muttered and waved away her comment, dismissively. “Keep your sassy comments to yourself. And why is your phone still off? Try turning it on, Bonnie.”

 

Bonnie could tell that up to this point, Johnny hadn't thought of the reason why Al treated him differently. As Johnny's eyes darted from side-to-side, Bonnie could see the cogs turning in his head.

 

Johnny finished the last of his pizza before the chime of his phone sounded. He held a finger in the air for Bonnie and whipped the phone to his ear. He listened to the caller, then he pulled the phone away from his ear and addressed Bonnie.

 

"Sorry, but I have to take this.” He rose and walked towards the lobby area.

 

Bonnie finally gave up and turned on her phone. There were twenty-five miss calls and twenty texts. She wanted to search to see if Chad had tried to get in touch with her. She began to scroll down through the list of missed calls.

 

“So what’s next for you?” Johnny asked, startling Bonnie.

 

Without a second glance at her messages, Bonnie deleted everything in her inbox.

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

“Our last date, she threw a glass of champagne in my face. And she called me a pig; can you believe that?” Dean asked.

 

"You know, for some strange reason, I can,” Chad said as Bobby laughed.

 

“Yeah, like that hasn't happened before,” Bobby said, causally. “She's just another notch on your bedpost, man.”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean said. But a frown marred his face. “The thing is, she doesn't give a damn about money. Maybe because she's a financial analyst. But I don't know. She’s just different somehow.”

 

“Yeah, she doesn’t seem to put up with your shit,” Bobby said. “Maybe she is different.”

 

Dean let out a curse and sighed in disgust. They had come to New York to meet personally with Sam Sheldon, one of the wealthiest men in the world and a potential investor in their business.

 

They waited in the reception area for Sam who was in a meeting. Lili, the gorgeous rust-haired receptionist, kept looking over at them. Bobby had already slipped her his number and invited her to their house in the Hollywood Hills for a party. He made sure she knew the score, they'd be no holes barred, no-strings attached sex.

 

It wasn’t long before her high heels tapped across the marble floor, Bobby held out his arm, and she slid comfortably onto his lap, angling her feet and eyes in Chad's direction.

 

Chad never once glanced in her direction; instead, he sprawled out on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. He found it hard to believe that he was still thinking about Bonnie. He'd called her twice and texted her double that.

 

Get a clue, she's not into you.

 

The signs were loud and clear; he wasn’t Bonnie's type. So why couldn't he simply move on? Perhaps the answer lie in their last night together. He asked her to be his. He never asked this of girls. That night changed the dynamic of their relationship.

 

Usually he would go home with a girl, fuck her, and leave. It never mattered if they were clients or not, they all knew the deal. Mr. Steel didn't do romance or affection. If clients decided to expect more from the the Mr. Steel experience, that was their problem. But Chad never pretended there was any real connection outside of sex or friendship; he preferred his clients to know the truth. He would never fall in love.

 

Love?

 

How the hell had he ended up on that train of thought? He needed to stop overanalyzing shit. He needed to get a grip, because he was going insane thinking about her.

 

"Hey,” Dean called. “You need to snap out of whatever pussy whipped La-La Land you're in and get your shit together.”

 

“What do you mean?” Chad said, running his hand through his chestnut hair.

 

“He’s right,” Bobby said. “You haven't been Mr. Steel lately.”

 

“Mr. Steel, hmm.” The receptionist moistened her lips, looking at each man with unabashed fascination. “I really liked Bonnie. I think she would have kept you grounded.”

 

“Chad settling down?” Bobby said, a thoughtful expression creased his face. “You might be onto something there.”

 

“If the big guy isn’t here in five, we’re out,” Chad said and glanced down at his watch.

 

"No one walks out on Mr. Sheldon,” Lili said.

 

“You don't know Chad,” Bobby said. “Chad operates on Chad’s time. He's always late but doesn't like to be kept waiting.”

 

Chad was reminded how he had kept Bonnie waiting by constantly showing up to their dates late. As he looked up at the ceiling, he thought about what he would give for just a few more hours with her, a few more minutes, seconds even, just to—

 

“Chad DeMarco, sorry to keep you waiting!” The voice that interrupted Chad's train of thought came from a tall, gray-haired, stoop-shouldered man in a black suit. He extended a hand to Chad. “Sam Sheldon.” They shook hands.

 

“Mr. Sheldon,” Lili said, launching herself off Bobby's lap.

 

“Hope Lili took good care of you guys,” he said. “Here, come into my office; we have a lot to discuss.”

 

***

 

Instead of going back to her apartment where she would be trapped alone with her thoughts about Chad, Bonnie took a taxi to West 81
st
and sat on a small park on a bench. She stared down at his number in her phone, which had held her attention for the past five minutes. She started and stopped several times in the middle of typing the text.

 

The midday sun started out idyllic, casting a pleasant, optimistic glow within her. But as she stared at Chad's number, a deep feeling of lethargy overcame her. The small park wasn't overcrowded. Mostly mothers with strollers or elderly couples walking by leisurely.

 

Jill's office was nearby and though she had been too tied down with work and Dean to pounce on Bonnie and get all the gossip on her cruise, she texted Bonnie suggesting they should meet at the park during her lunch break.

 

Looking down at Chad’s number, Bonnie felt indecisive. It was just one message and not worth debating. To send or not to send.

 

How r u? It's weird. But I kinda miss u!

 

A silhouette fell across Bonnie.

 

“Hey, girl!” Jill said, sitting on the bench beside her. “You look fantastic!”

 

“You too. You never told me you changed your hair,” Bonnie said, shocked to see her friend’s raven-black locks.

 

"I wanted to surprise you,” Jill said. “Like it?”

 

“I love it.” Bonnie said. “Color me surprised.”

 

“So talk to me… tell me everything.”

 

“How long do you have?”

 

“About an hour.” Jill said. “Give me the Cliff’s Notes version.”

 

“You want me to tell you everything that went down with me and Chad in an hour?” Bonnie asked.

 

"Uh-huh."

 

“Okay, give me a second.” Bonnie peered down at her phone and she pushed send.

 

“I also want to ask you a favor,” Jill said. “It's no secret that you've been invited to this huge party…”

 

***

 

“I look forward to doing business with you DeMarco. You're a stand-up guy,” Sam said as he shook Chad's hand.

 

Lili looked on, doe eyed, as all three men left the building. Bobby flashed her a smile before she left. But he and Dean never stopped to talk. There were more pressing matters. As soon as they stepped outside, Dean took it upon himself to address the matter.

 

“You can't screw this up. Get your shit together, man,” Dean said to Chad.

 

Several times during the meeting with Sam, Chad completely spaced out. Bobby had to prod him to get his attention.

 

They got into Chad's Lamborghini Aventador GT. Chad sighed.

 

“Shit. I wasn't that bad, was I?” he asked. Dean nodded vehemently. Bobby, also nodding, rubbed the back of his neck and pursed his lips.

 

“Shit!” Chad said. All he had thought about during the meeting was Bonnie. It was like he was ill or something. He couldn't handle the radio silence. No woman had ever affected him the way she did. It was like new feelings had been born inside of him. It was bullshit. “Sam noticed?”

 

Dean, who sat in the front passenger seat, faced front and clenched his jaw. Bobby cleared his throat and leaned into the front.

 

“It wasn’t that bad. He seemed to let it slide. All I want to know is what’s gotten…” He didn't finish his sentence as his phone buzzed from his pocket, causing him to lean back to check it.

 

“I really don't know how to explain it,” Chad said to Dean, who faced him with a look of frustration.

 

“When you acted like you'd lost your mind on that show, I thought it was all entertainment,” Dean said. “What is she to you? A challenge? A bit of fun?”

 

“I thought so at first.” Chad looked away from his friend. “But now, it's like just looking at another woman, trying to imagine myself with someone else… feels weird.”

 

Surprised flashed in Dean's eyes. He asked in a quiet voice, “So what are you going to do?”

 

Chad looked at his friend and saw that Dean looked stunned, as if Chad were a different person.

 

At that point, Bobby’s laugh ripped through the moment. He leaned forward and shoved his phone at Chad. There was a picture of the receptionist showing her breasts.

 

“Lili just send me a topless selfie. I think I'm in love!” He took the phone away and sat back in his seat.

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