Tailored for Trouble: A Romantic Comedy (Happy Pants) (21 page)

Who are you kidding? You’re so going to cry.
She’d simply have to tell everyone she wasn’t feeling well. It wouldn’t be breaking her deal with Chip, so why not?

Brigitte came out of the stall, tugging down her black dress. “Well, I think,” she said eyeing herself in the mirror, “dat we’ve both done nice.
Oui
?”

“Sorry?” Taylor said.

“We both have ourselves a nice reech boyfriend. Life is gud, no?”

“Yeah,” Taylor said glumly, pulling out her lipstick. “Life is good. So how long have you been dating, Benn—Mr. Wade?”

Brigitte shrugged. “We went out the last two times he was in town. You know—for a leettle fun. But I told him,” she wagged her finger, “the next time he comes to me, he’d better be ready to give me more, or he can lose my number.”

“Really?” Taylor asked.

“I won’t be young forever, and I habe two other very reech men who are interested.” She shrugged. “But I do not geeve zi milk for free, like some women.” Her eyes washed over Taylor.

Taylor got the not so subtle slap, but didn’t let it get to her. Honestly, her mind was set on something else. Sheer rage. This bitch was exactly the reason Bennett had issues.
Frigging gold digger!

“So you think Bennett has come for your milk?” Taylor asked.

“Why else? I think he weel propose tonight, actually.”

Taylor was going to be sick. Literally sick.
Well, at least now you don’t have to fake being ill.

“Want to know what I think?” Taylor said, “
Benny
is too smart to fall for your little game, but if he does, you’d be lucky to get a guy like him.”

She laughed. “Lucky? Dis man hazz no passion. No love in his heart. The only thing he hazz is his looks and his mooney.”

“You’re disgusting.” Taylor scowled.

“You snobby American. I see you with dat Chip. You are no different than me.”

Taylor shook her head. There was zero point discussing any of this with Brigitte. And it wasn’t her place to warn Bennett. He was a very, very smart man, and if he was with Brigitte, it was because he wanted to be. He trusted no one, and he certainly wasn’t going to start with this trollop. He was making a choice. On his own.
Like a big stupid guy who thinks only with his dick.

“Have a nice night, Brigitte. It’s been a pleasure.” Taylor lifted her chin and pulled open the door to leave. The moment she stepped out, someone had her by the hand, yanking her to the side.

It was Bennett. He wasn’t even looking at her as he pulled her toward the stainless steel kitchen doors.

“Bennett,” she hissed, trying not to cause a scene, “what are you doing?”

He kept on marching, dragging her through the doors where a waiter preparing some salads immediately barked at them.

Bennett spouted out a phrase in French that sent the waiter fleeing into the dining room, a look of fear in his eyes.

Of course! He speaks French, too!
Didn’t he understand how irritatingly sexy that was?
Sexy, French-speaking jerk face!

The three chefs, all sautéing in their big white hats behind the waist-high wall at the back of the kitchen, were too busy to notice or care about the intrusion as were the busboys who rushed in and out through the doors.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen, the sound of pots clanking and pans sizzling all around them, Bennett turned to face her, standing just a little too close—within easy lip reach.

Not that she wanted to kiss him.

Much.

Tay! No you don’t!

She jerked back her hand. “What. Are. You. Doing?” she growled.

“No. What are
you
doing?”

“I’m in the process of leaving,” she replied.

“That’s a wise choice, though I’m not sure why you’re here with him at all,” he snarled. “Chip? Seriously, Taylor?”

“Really? You’re really going there?” she fumed at him.

He gave her a look, getting the drift that she was “really” referring to Brigitte. “If you think so little of me, then you truly don’t know me at all.”

She stared up at him, his eyes filled with self-righteous indignation.

“You know what?” She threw up her hands. “Maybe you’re right. So why don’t you try telling me what I’m supposed to know, Bennett, instead of acting like this giant brick wall of manly mystery.” Honestly, most of what she’d learned about him had come via his mother or Candy.

“I have my reasons for being cautious, Taylor. And they’re not what you would call pleasant or admirable.”

“Everyone has a past. Why should you be any different?”

“Because the world holds me to an impossibly high standard. Although I’m not sure they’re half as critical as you.”

What was that supposed to mean? “That’s not fair, Bennett. I’ve been way more understanding than anyone else would ever be considering the circumstances. But if you want me to stop judging you or assuming, then we’re right back where we were on the plane today. You need to tell me the truth.”

“About what?” he said sharply.

“About you. Why are you killing yourself for this Bali project? Why did you lie to me and take that idiotic bet?” She looked at him, waiting for the answer.

He stared, but there was no give. His eyes and expression were closed off behind that infamous Mr. Wade brick wall.

“Fine. Whatever is going on with you, whatever’s happened to make you this way, just remember that I had nothing to do with it.” She turned to leave, and he grabbed her hand.

“Taylor.” His tone was earnest.

She looked at him, waiting, but whatever he was about to say didn’t come out. “
What?
What is there to say, Bennett?”

“I just don’t think you’ll understand,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t think anyone can.”

She now saw that his bricks were holding back pain. A lot of it. But if he couldn’t at least give her a glimpse of what was behind that wall, how were they supposed to move forward?

“How do you know if you don’t try me?” she said softly.

He stared but didn’t speak.

Dammit, Bennett!
She wanted so badly to kiss him and touch him and tell him how she felt about him, but it would be a fool’s errand. He didn’t want to open up.

“Then I’m sorry for you, Bennett. I truly am. Because there’s no one in the world who wants to understand you more than I do.” She pulled out of his grasp and headed for the dining room. The moment Chip spotted her, he stood and pulled out her chair. “Honey bear, I missed you.”

Taylor held out her hand. “I’m afraid I won’t be joining you for dinner this evening. I’m very sorry, but I suddenly don’t feel well.”

“Ms. Reed,” Mary said. “That is a shame. I was looking forward to hearing more about your company.”

“You’re very kind Mary, but it’s really not worth talking about,” Taylor said. “In fact,” she looked straight at Bennett who’d just shown up and taken his seat, “you should throw the material away. It needs a complete overhaul. I mean it, Bennett, don’t do yourself a disservice and go any further with it.” Taylor glanced at Brigitte who was also back at the table. “It’s a waste of your time. Good night everyone. Have a lovely meal.” She turned and walked out of the restaurant. She held up her hand and a taxi pulled to the side. She reached for the door and looked over her shoulder. For a moment, she hesitated. Her heart didn’t want to let go of Bennett, but she needed to accept reality. Bennett was the sort of man who did what he wanted. He didn’t want a real relationship, he didn’t want to trust, he didn’t want to change….

And he doesn’t want you.

Taylor got into the car and directed the driver to the airport.

“No. What do you mean my reservation isn’t in your system? I have the confirmation number right here.” Taylor dug out her notebook but couldn’t find the napkin she’d used to jot down the code she’d been given. Dammit. She’d probably used it to wipe her tears and blow her nose on the cab ride here. She’d tossed it.

The tall man in the uniform behind the ticket counter shook his head. “I’m sorry, but there is no record. Except for the flight you were booked on earlier, which you checked in for and didn’t board. So that ticket fare is lost, I’m afraid.”

“How can that be?”

“Yes, ma’am. Those were the rules of the fare. I’ve put in a request for a review to see if they’ll allow a credit; however, that will take up to a week.”

“A week?” What the hell? Well, Bennett had purchased the ticket, so hopefully they’d give him a credit, but where did that leave her?

“Can I buy a new ticket?”

“I’m sorry. There’s no room on this flight.”

This can’t be happening.
“When’s the next one?”

He typed away on his keyboard. “Tomorrow at two
P.M.
”

Taylor looked toward the industrial-style ceiling, and then the long line of impatient travelers waiting behind her.

“But,” he added, “the fare will be three thousand five hundred dollars. There’s only business and first class left.”

Taylor rubbed her face. She couldn’t afford it. Jack had only put a few thousand into her account, and there was no way in hell she’d go back to ask for more. Also, she fully intended to repay Bennett his fifty thousand. So every dime she spent dug her deeper into a hole.

“When’s the next coach flight available?” she asked.

The customer service rep clicked away on his computer. “I’m afraid not until tomorrow night. But feel free to try one of the other airlines.”

Taylor groaned. “Thanks. I’ll see what I can find online.” Shoulders sagging in her stupid dress that was so tight she wanted to scream, she slogged past the long line of ogling travelers.

Yeah, yeah. Haven’t you ever seen a nearly naked woman before?

Her personal phone rang, and she slipped it from her purse. She didn’t recognize the number, but answered it anyway.

“You turned off your other phone again,” said a deep, sensual voice.

It was Bennett.

Her heart did a little dance even while her stomach churned with tension.

“Yeah, well,” she said, “it ran out of juice and my charger is sitting in my suitcase—wherever the hell that is. Besides, I don’t work for you anymore, so you’re free to let go of your
thing
.”

“Don’t you mean ‘I don’t work
with
you’?” he asked. “And I can’t let go of my
thing
. It’s my
thing
. Things don’t just go away because you wish them to.”

“What do you want, Bennett?”

“To see how you’re doing.”

Oh, screw him
. She was a mess. A goddamned mess. And now she had to go home and figure out how the hell to keep breathing, defeated on every single front in her life—professionally, romantically, emotionally. “I’m feeling much better now. Just about to board my flight, so I gotta go.”

“How am I supposed to trust you and let down my brick wall of manly mystery when you lie to me?” he said, disapprovingly.

Shit.
“You’re standing right behind me, aren’t you?”

“I am now.”

She slowly turned to find an irritated and handsome as hell Bennett walking right up to her. He’d removed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, exposing his muscled forearms.

Her knees wobbled. Her breath caught. Her entire body did a dip and roll as if she’d just taken a big dive on a roller coaster—only this ride also vibrated and turned her the hell on.

“We really need to stop meeting like this.” His eyes made a quick sweep of the terminal. Yeah, they had kind of been doing a planes, trains, and automobiles thing.

“Why are you here, Bennett?”

“I’m flying on to Bali in five minutes,” he said with a smarty-pants tone, while staring down at her.

“Well, have a nice trip.” She turned to leave him, but he grabbed her shoulder.

“Can we go somewhere to talk?”

No. No way
. She was done putting herself out there.

He took her hand. “Please?” he asked nicely.

Taylor’s resolve instantly began melting away. “Give me one good reason, Bennett?”

“Because I’m asking.”

It was true; he hadn’t demanded like he usually did. And yes, that made her a little warm and gooey inside. “Are you sure Brigitte would approve?”

He smiled. “You really are jealous.”

“No.”

“Yes. You are. I can see it on your face.”

“I am not jealous.” Okay, she was a little.
A lot.
But more importantly she was…“I am disappointed, Bennett.”

“Why?” he asked. “Because I don’t meet your standards?”

She pulled her hand away. “If you came here to pick another fight, you’re wasting your time. I said everything I needed to say.” She huffed, turned, and started walking away.

“Wait. I’m sorry, Taylor. I just want to talk!”

Unsure of where she was heading, Taylor weaved between the bustling crowd of passengers toting their roller bags and pushing strollers.

“You should know that I brought Brigitte because Chip was going to be there. I needed to keep him occupied while I worked on Mary.”

Taylor couldn’t believe her ears. She swiveled and stormed back to him. “You’ll do anything to win, won’t you?”

“It’s called business, Taylor. And there is no shame in fighting for what you want in this life.”

“There should be shame if you have to use or deceive or—”

“It’s called persuasion. And when you’re trying to get someone to do something they’re against, sometimes you can’t just throw money at them.”

“Oh. Now I get it. That’s what you did with me back in Japan. Money won’t work, so I’ll just kiss her! And show her my giant boner!”

I can’t believe I just said that.

Bennett cocked a brow, but then an obvious curiosity flickered in his eyes. “Why are you so distrusting, Taylor? Is it because I’m wealthy? Or the boss? Why is it that when you see men in power, you automatically assume they don’t care or only wish to exploit the people around them?”

She tipped her head. “I think you’re the one with the trust issues, Bennett. But no, I don’t think that about you.”

“Don’t you? Isn’t that the reason you went for my jugular the day we met? Isn’t that the reason you started your company?”

She was about to protest, but then snapped her mouth shut. He’d hit a nerve, but he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“You might be right,” she admitted, “and maybe it’s because I grew up being the only female in a house full of big bossy men and had to constantly fight not to get trampled on—but don’t pretend those CEOs don’t exist. Just look at your golf buddies. You all ruined my reputation and never gave it a second thought.”

“You’re right, Taylor. It was wrong. And I said I was sorry. Which is why I meant what I said about setting the record straight for you. But you don’t do yourself any favors going out with guys like Chip.”

“I didn’t go out with him—he…” Taylor blew out a breath. “Never mind.”

“You did it to make me jealous.”

Again, she was about to protest, but he didn’t give her the chance—

“Well, it worked,” he said. “And that dress…” He looked her over. “I didn’t like him seeing you in it. Or anyone, for that matter. Even right now I’m having a hard time not getting angry at the stream of men walking by and ogling your body.”

He was jealous?

Bennett stepped in a bit closer, and she felt the heat of his body. He slowly moved his hand to her face and stared deeply into her eyes. “I kissed you in Tokyo because I thought of you leaving, and then I panicked. Because no one has ever looked at me like you do, like they truly get me, the real me.”

Taylor’s heart was thumping away like an unevenly loaded washing machine. She thought she might actually fall over.

He continued, “And I sent you home because every time you look at me, I want more. More of you, more of those lips, more of your sassy little mouth. And it scares the hell out of me.”

Oh, God. Oh, God. Did he really just say that? Really. Because I don’t think I can believe it. I really, really don’t.

“Because you think I’m after your money?” she asked hesitantly, her body going numb with the overload of emotions she felt.

“No.” He dipped his head, holding his mouth an inch from hers. “Because I know you’re not.” He leaned down and kissed her. Not soft. Not hard. Just enough pressure to let her know it was an invitation for more.

He slowly pulled away. “I’m not going to try to talk you into anything, because I don’t want you to think I’m manipulating or using you, but if you really want to see what’s underneath this suit, then there’ll be a ticket to Bali at the Air France counter. However, Ms. Reed, you should be warned: I am a greedy man—but it’s not for money.” His eyes slowly moved to her lips, down her neck, to her breasts, and up again. “Your flight leaves in two hours. Enough time for you to think long and hard about this next step.”

“Long? Hard?” She gulped.

He turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowded terminal.

Fuck, he’s hot.

Taylor took the appropriate amount of time, standing in the terminal, trying not to fall over in her wobbly red hooker heels, thinking about his offer.
Yep. Two. Uh-huh
. It took her all of two whole seconds to decide she’d be getting on that damned commercial flight to Bali. But it wasn’t for the reason anyone might think: Sex with Bennett Wade. Okay, that was part of the reason. Her body didn’t just ache for the man, it felt a raging, searing, gnawing heat that started at the tips of her toes, scorched its way right between her legs, torpedoed through her stomach, speared her heart, and ended somewhere in her brain where it latched onto every thought she had.

However, and a big, big however at that, the biggest reason she wanted to go was because she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t. Her heart wanted this badly. And if she didn’t listen to that part of herself, she’d spend the rest of her life wondering if she was meant to love this hot mess of a man and if he was meant to love her back.

Oh boy
. She pushed her hands to her abdomen, feeling like she was on that roller coaster again. Danger mixed with euphoric exhilaration. But with a porn element to it.

Okay. You know, know, know you’re going.
But how would she, a very inexperienced woman, handle a fuck-stallion like Bennett Wade? She could never meet his worldly expectations.

She glanced at her watch. It was just after ten at night, which meant one-ish in the afternoon California time. Sarah would be at work, finishing up her lunch hour.

Taylor found a quiet corner near the security checkpoint and called.

“Taylor! Hey, honey. How’s the trip going with that client?” Taylor hadn’t told Sarah or Holly who her client was—she had figured it didn’t really matter at the time and that they’d chew her out for agreeing to work with Bennett (aka a-hole who’d gotten her fired).

“Umm…it’s not good,” Taylor confessed.

“Oh no. What happened?”

“I think I’m falling in love.”

Taylor heard Sarah spit something out.
Coffee?
“What? How the hell did that happen? You’ve only been gone for what, a week?”

“Four or five days. Depending on the time zone?”

“Are you sure it’s not a hard case of lust?” Sarah asked. “You haven’t gotten laid in forever.”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”
Thanks awfully for pointing that out, though.

“So, who is he?”

“My client,” Taylor replied.

“One of those asshole billionaire guys? The ones you said you’d never ever date because you don’t date clients?”

“Yes.”

Again, Taylor heard spitting on the other end of the phone. Sarah must’ve been bathing her entire office in coffee. “No. Taylor, please tell me you have better taste than that.”

“I’m afraid not,” she said dejectedly.

“This is bad.”

“Would it sound better if I told you that he’s not entirely an asshole?” Taylor said.

“Not entirely an asshole implies he’s still an asshole.”

True.
“What I need to know, Sarah, is…I don’t know what to do. He’s invited me to Bali, and I know I’m going to go but—”

“So why are you calling me? Sounds like you’ve made up your mind.”

“I’m afraid,” Taylor replied.

“Why? Is he into kink? Just make sure you agree on a safe word.”

“What? No. I mean—he might be into that, but I didn’t get that vibe. I meant I’m afraid I won’t be able to handle him.”

“In what way? Is he really hung?”

Yes. Absolutely, but…
“Can you get your mind out of the gutter? I’m trying to say he’s intense, Sarah. Really fucking intense. And he’s also damned sweet. But I can tell he’s damaged. And I’m not sure how bad that damage is.”

“Intense, sweet, and damaged. Hmmm…sounds fuckably hot,” Sarah said.

“He’s that, too.”

“I’m still not seeing the problem,” Sarah said. “You’re a grown woman. And I’ve never known you to be reckless—a little crazy and hotheaded sometimes, but never reckless. If you like the guy, then go for it. Just keep an open mind and see where it goes.”

“Honestly, I guess…I’m afraid he won’t ever love me back.”

“Awww, sweetie. You’re wonderful. And smart. And beautiful. What’s not to love?”

“We’re talking Bennett Wade, here. He’s not easy to please, and then there’s the fact that women throw themselves at him—gorgeous women—like twelves on a scale of one to te—”

“Stop the bus. Taylor, did you just say your asshole billionaire is Bennett Wade?”

“Yes?”

“And you’ve been flying all over the globe in his private jet, looking at him, sharing the same air, hearing his voice, smelling him, maybe even touching him?”

“Yeah?” Where was she going with this?

“And you haven’t fucked his brains out yet?”

Huh?
“No!”