Bad Girls Do: a Billionare Romance Novel (The Everly Brothers Series, Erotic Romance Book 3) (16 page)

The fact that she’d gotten more than she bargained for with Sam’s rock-her-world lovemaking didn’t change that.

Once this itch between them was scratched, they’d be going their separate ways, and she was okay with that. She
had
to be okay with it.

Even if some small part of her wished things had been different. That Sam was looking for more than admittedly hot sex.

She took one last glance at the dress she’d picked for the occasion, a black, flapper inspired number with a beaded fringe hem that stopped a few inches above her knees, fitted sleeves, and a scooped neck that dropped low in the back. She’d picked the dress because the dark color was such a marked contrast to her skin and hair, which she wore in loose curls floating around her shoulders. The black gave her skin a sexy glow, with the added benefit of being short enough to lend her a bad girl vibe.

Plus, she had a feeling it was going to drive Sam crazy, which was a fun little bonus.

Satisfied that everything was in place, she grabbed her long, black coat out of her closet and left her suite of rooms. To her surprise, when the door opened to the elevator that a previous resident had installed in the townhouse, her father stood inside. He was dressed in his usual business suit and looked as busy as ever while scrolling through his phone.

Glancing up at her, he uttered an impatient, “Well, are you coming or not?”

As Diane stepped onto the elevator, it struck her that, despite all their comings and goings and the fact that they lived in the same house, this was the first time she’d seen him in well over five days.

“Do you have a dinner meeting?” she asked in an attempt to make polite conversation.

“No,” he said, his tone clipped. “I have a few things I need to discuss with Andrew Everly regarding his company’s expansion. I’ll be seeing him at the youngest one’s art exhibition.”

Shock made her burst out, “That’s where I’m going.”

Immediately, she regretted her impulsive confession. Technically, she had no reason to go to the show, no one there to see except an ex-boyfriend who was now happily engaged to someone else.

“It is?” When he speared her with a glance, she braced herself for him to question why she was going. Instead, he merely said, “We can ride over together then,” and returned his gaze to the screen of his phone.

Should have guessed.
As per usual, if a subject matter didn’t involve him or something that could benefit him, it held zero interest for him.

It was only once they’d slid into the back of a taxicab that Manny had hailed for them that her father deigned to speak to her again.

“I’m surprised you’re wasting your evening with this nonsense.”

She blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“This exhibition,” he said. “I’ll only be there because of Andrew. I would think you’d have something better to do than spend a night staring at bad art.”

She and her father had never discussed art before. It didn’t surprise her that he seemed to hold little regard for it. If the price tag wasn’t in the millions, he generally wasn’t interested. But still, some part of her couldn’t help herself when she said, “I like Sam Everly’s paintings.”

It was only the truth. Sam’s taste in art was no doubt too modern for someone like her father, but that didn’t mean his pieces were bad. Far from it. There was a restless sort of beauty in his artwork—much like the man himself.

Her father scoffed. “They’re garbage. The products of a minimally talented hack who has too much free time on his hands.”

Denial and an instinctive need to defend Sam clawed at Diane’s throat. But since that would just seem strange to her father, she kept her mouth shut.

“If I were Andrew, I’d force that lad to go into the office,” he grumbled. “Do the work he was meant to do instead of pissing away their father’s hard-earned inheritance on this nonsense.”

Anger strummed in her veins at her father’s words. As if he would know the value of true art. As far as he was concerned, if it wasn’t gilded in gold, it meant nothing.

“If their father were still alive, no doubt he’d live in shame at how little his youngest son has accomplished,” he muttered. “Honestly, I’d be surprised if he ever amounts to anything.”

Though her father had never made his lack of respect for Sam’s lifestyle a secret, hearing his words now affected Diane in a way they never had before. Clenching her gloved hands in her lap, she turned to stare out the window.

The rest of their trip passed in silence. For once she was glad for it, instead of feeling that familiar knot of despair in the pit of her stomach. Her entire life, she’d wished for a better connection with her father. Now, for the first time, she was starting to wonder if their inability to communicate was such a bad thing. They were clearly two very different people, with radically different ideas of what did and didn’t matter in life.

Maybe I’m more like my mother than I thought.

Her mother, with her open and carefree views of the world and the speed with which she championed even the littlest of causes had always seemed such an enigma to Diane. But now she was beginning to think maybe her perception of her mother had always been colored by her father’s opinions.

It was a staggering realization, and one she didn’t know how to process. So she tucked it away for now. She could always further examine it later.

By the time the cab pulled up to the location of the Soho art gallery, which actually wasn’t too far from Sam’s place, Diane was more than ready to part company with her father. She murmured a hasty goodbye as they slipped out of the taxicab. No doubt he’d barely notice her departure, as usual.

The typical mad crush of people awaited her just inside the doors of the gallery. Sam’s shows were always well attended, which showed just how connected he was. Not only were there artist types in attendance, but a fair amount of the New York City elite, as well. She even thought she might have spotted the mayor deeper inside.

Feeling suddenly alone amidst the throng of people, Diane unbuttoned her coat and dropped it, along with her purse and other winter essentials, at the coat check stand set up in one corner of the large room.

Thankfully, between the people and the heating system, she felt no chill whatsoever. But racked with sudden uncertainty, she wondered if maybe she shouldn’t have come. Other than casual acquaintances, she wouldn’t know anyone here, and even if Sam weren’t going to be busy, which he undoubtedly was, it wasn’t like they could hang out together the entire time. Not with his brother around.

Yet by the time she turned around, there was Sam, standing directly in front of her. He wore a black sweater and dark blue jeans, and the five o’clock beard she found so sexy was in its normal place.

The familiar hunger she’d come to recognize so well over their time together crept into his eyes. He gave her a cheeky grin. “Hi.”

Fighting a sudden burst of shyness, she said, “Hi.”

When his eyes swept down her body, then back up, the awkwardness of the situation hit her. What the hell were she and Sam doing? They couldn’t even pretend more than a casual acquaintance for fear they’d alert their family members to their arrangement.

Just then she caught sight of her father over Sam’s shoulder. He strode in a direct arc toward the mayor. No surprise. Their conversation replayed itself in her mind, and another tide of anger overcame her.

Sam must have noticed, because he took a step closer and murmured, “What’s wrong?”

Forcing her gaze off her father, she said, “Nothing.”

He shook his head, and his expression said he wasn’t going to back off. “Not buying it. That look you had meant
something.
”

“My father and I rode over together,” she confessed.

He seemed to immediately get what was wrong. A few days ago he’d asked about her father and she’d told him about their strange relationship. How her parents had divorced when she was five, and her mother had returned with her to France. How he’d only visited her a couple times a year, and had always seemed distant. Expected her to heed his every command.

And she had. Look at how long she’d dated Andrew, who she clearly had no physical connection with, just because her father had wanted her to. She would have married him if he’d asked because that was what her father had wanted. It seemed crazy now.

“So he was being his usual charming self, then?” Sam said dryly.

“Exactly.”

Sam scowled. “Forget about him. Why don’t you come look at the artwork with me?”

His invitation caught her off guard. “What about…should we really go around together?”

Sam’s lips tightened and he shook his head, then glanced around the room. “Everyone seems preoccupied. Andrew’s talking with your father, and I doubt they’ll be done anytime soon.”

A quick glance confirmed he was right. The desire to be with Sam warred with her instinctive urge to ensure that no one saw them together. In the end, the former won out. “Okay. We can take a quick walk around.”

He shot her a quick grin, then snagged some champagne from a server making the rounds with a loaded tray of flutes before leading her through the crowded room. As always, she took note of how large the interior of the gallery was. Blond wood flooring served to accent the white walls with artwork hung upon them. Sam hung a right at one of the interior walls that gave a mazelike quality to the gallery, and they arrived in a less crowded area.

“I thought we were going to look at
your
art,” she commented.

Sam handed her one of the flutes. “I’ve already seen it.”

She rolled her eyes at his quip, but when a woman whose face she vaguely recalled strode up to congratulate Sam on another showing, she quickly turned her attention to the pastel paintings in front of her.

The woman murmured something Diane couldn’t hear, but from her tone of voice, she was definitely flirting. Caught between the jealous urge to eavesdrop and the desire to stalk away, she settled for squirming in discomfort. But when she heard the woman issue an invitation to her place later that evening, it was all she could do not to turn and run. Or scratch the woman’s eyes out.

Thankfully, Sam murmured a quick, polite refusal, and the woman didn’t stay too long after that. If she noticed Diane standing next to Sam and thought it strange, at least she didn’t mention it before she left.

“Sorry,” Sam said, turning back to her with a guarded look.

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied coolly.

Knowing him, he’d probably slept with half the women in this place.

Including me.

Before she could further ponder that disturbing thought, he distracted her by setting his hand on the small of her back.

“I’m not hooking up with anyone else right now,” he said casually, without taking his eyes off the painting they stood in front of. “Just so you know.”

His unexpected words made her suck in her breath.

Had she been projecting an aura of worry? As embarrassing as the thought was, she couldn’t bring herself to be upset about it. Not when his words had lifted an invisible weight off her chest.

“Me either,” she said just as lightly, although that was likely no surprise to him.

They stood there for a few more moments before moving on to another section.

By the time they made their rounds back to Sam’s corner of the gallery, Diane had already finished her glass of champagne, and Sam had fetched her another. When she spotted Andrew headed in their direction, she didn’t have to wait for Sam to make note of it. Instead, without a word, she made a sharp turn and headed in the other direction.

She lifted her shaky hand and downed the rest of the second glass. But when she turned toward the server carrying the tray of empty glasses, she almost collided with none other than Hailey Thompson. Andrew’s new fiancé.

“Oh.” Hailey stopped short, her eyes going round. Her fingers clutched at the flouncy skirt of her short red dress. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Diane flushed and shifted in her spot. “It was my fault.”

“Um.” Hailey set her empty glass onto the server’s tray at the same time as Diane, then visibly steeled herself before turning back and holding out her hand. “We’ve never been properly introduced. My name is—”

“Hailey.” Diane gave her a smile and shook her hand. “I’m Diane. Nice to formally meet you.”

Hailey looked unsure about that, and who could blame her? Technically, Hailey had stolen Andrew out from under her, so Diane could understand why she might think she held hard feelings. Honestly, until now she hadn’t known if she did. But looking at Hailey, she realized the woman had done her a favor. What if, god forbid, Andrew hadn’t met Hailey? Would he have ended up asking
her
to marry him, just because it seemed the prudent thing to do?

The thought that Diane might have ended up as Sam’s sister-in-law had circumstances been different, made her want to shudder.

Thank god for Hailey.

Dropping her hand, Diane gave Hailey a warm smile. “I’d like to congratulate you on your upcoming nuptials.”

Now Hailey looked completely bemused. “Really?”

“Yes,” Diane said firmly. “I’ve honestly never seen Andrew happier. You’re good for him.”

Hailey gave a wide-eyed blink. “Wow. Um, thank you.”

Diane gave her a grin. “You’re welcome.”

When Hailey’s gaze strayed over Diane’s shoulder, Diane followed her line of sight. Andrew stood beside a painting, wearing an expression that would have looked stoic on any other man. She knew enough, though, to sense his discomfort at seeing the two of them together. It almost made her smile.

Turning back to Hailey, she said, “Well, I’ll let you get back to the event.”

Hailey nodded, looking just as baffled as Andrew probably was. “Goodbye.”

“Bye.” With one last friendly smile, Diane strode past Hailey. She kept going until she found a wandering server. Snagging her third glass of champagne from his tray, she made her way toward the small cluster of counter height pub tables that had been brought in for the event and set along one of the walls. With a polite nod to the older couple who sat on the other side of the table, she slid into one of the tall, empty chairs across from them and leaned her shoulder against the wall.