Seducing the Billionaire's Daughter Page 5

  “Do you want to hear about the specials, too?” the waitress repeated, and London nearly groaned out loud when she realized that she was no longer alone at the table.

  “I’ll have whatever the lady is having.”

  “Four chicken Caesar salad’s it is.”

  “Glad I brought my appetite.”

  There was no way. Slowly, oh so slowly, she lowered the menu until it was no longer blocking her view. Sawyer’s deep blue eyes met hers.

  “Good afternoon.”

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Taggart.” Feeling ridiculous, she placed the menu on the table. “I think you’re in the wrong seat.”

  “You want to switch places? I don’t know. I really like my view of you.”

  Why did he have to say things like that? “No, I have a client meeting me for lunch.”

  He kept on looking at her, his eyes... expectant.

  “You’re the client.”

  He wriggled his brows. “I’m the client.”

  She leaned forward, keeping her voice low. “This is highly inappropriate.”

  “I’d hate to hear what you think of dinner.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He grinned, taking her breath away. This man... he was so complex, so serious one moment and so lighthearted and teasing in the next. “Explain it to me.”

  “Do you really need my services?” she asked pointedly.

  “I really needed to see you again.”

  Her pulse sped up. She really shouldn’t be attracted to the competition’s son. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “But I did tell the truth.”

  “After lying to me!”

  “I didn’t lie. My first initial is S and my middle name is Hayes.”

  “And your last name is Taggart,” she pointed out.

  He took a drink of water, then set the glass down. “Are you denying me service based on something I have no control over?”

  “I’m denying you service because you committed fraud.”

  “That’s not the definition of fraud.”

  She waved a hand in the air. “Close enough. If you wanted to see me, you should have called.”

  “I don’t have your number.”

  “It’s the same as my business number.”

  He frowned. “That’s not safe.”

  “How so?”

  “Anyone could call you, lie about who they are, and show up for lunch, only to kidnap you.”

  “Is that your plan?”

  “The thought had occurred to me.”

  And then do what with her? Nope. She wouldn’t go there. It didn’t matter how sexy she found him. Didn’t matter how blue his eyes were or how good he looked in his button down, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Nope, she wouldn’t think about him “kidnapping” her so he could have his way with her—with her consent of course.

  She curled her toes against the tile floor.

  “Care to share your thoughts... or would you like for me to guess what you’re thinking,” he asked, his voice intimate and low. “I’m in your thoughts, aren’t I? You can’t stop thinking about me. The truth is I can’t stop thinking about you either.”

  If only she had on her shoes, she’d storm out of here. “That’s the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard.”

  “I wasn’t trying to pick you up. You need better security.” He looked fully serious now. His tone was sharp, to the point, and held no teasing undertones. “I mean it, London. You do not need to have the same number. It’s on your website for God’s sake.”

  “That’s because I haven’t switched to a phone service,” she said.

  He arched a brow. “Why not?”

  “Since you’re not a client, I’m fine with sharing this with you and it’s nothing for me to be ashamed of anyway nor is it an accurate picture of my positive gains in the industry, because every business has to start on the ground floor.”

  “And?”

  “I don’t have the money to pay for one yet.”

  He eyed her in pure disbelief. It was written all over his face. “You’re telling me a billionaire’s daughter cannot afford two phone numbers?”

  Blushing fiercely, she tipped up her chin. “I’m not a billionaire’s daughter in Raleigh. I’m London Montgomery, and I specialize in helping people achieve their full potential.”

  His lips thinned. “You’re not charging enough.”

  “I can’t charge more at this time. One, I don’t have an advanced degree, beyond a Bachelors. Two, I don’t have the years of experience to justify it.”

  “Do you plan to get an advanced degree?”

  “No. I don’t need it. I have a knack for helping people, and I already have a degree in business as well as a minor in psychology, so it’s not like I’m shooting in the dark. I’m damn good at what I do, and the clients I do have are achieving their goals. That’s all that matters in the long run.”

  “Not if you can’t afford to stay in business.”

  She bristled. “Is this your attempt to flatter me because if so, you are horrible at it.”

  “What good would it do to flatter you. I’m treating you as an equal, as someone who can do better. Your business model can’t sustain itself, unless you raise your prices or—”

  “I don’t need a mentor.”

  He laughed. “The last thing I want to do is mentor you. I’m simply giving advice from someone who also started on the ground floor and learned the hard way that you have to charge what you’re worth. It’s a hell of a lot easier to lower prices than raise them.”

  Debbie caught London’s eye. She walked to the table, Louboutins in her arms. “It’s not a permanent fix, but it should hold long enough to get you through the day. Also, I know a guy who can repair these for you, but he won’t come cheap.”

  London avoided Sawyer’s gaze as she smiled and took the shoes from Debbie, hugging them to her chest. “Thank you so much. I’d love his information.”

  “It’s in the right shoe. Slip of paper in the toe. By the way, those are so old school dope. They don’t that make that style anymore.” Debbie smiled. “Enjoy your lunch.”

  “What happened to your shoes?”

  London fished the scrap of paper out and tucked it into her purse, before leaning to one side to slip on her shoes. “Broke a heel.” She sat up. “Don’t laugh.”

  “Why would I laugh?” he asked, his face devoid of emotion.

  “Because you’re seeing me at my worst. I’m kicked out of my office for the rest of the day, I got the heel of my favorite shoes stuck in a grate, and managed to not only roll my ankle but snap the heel of my shoe as soon as I arrived. And to add insult to injury, you’ve spent the last ten minutes lecturing me.” She stood up. “Have a nice life, Sawyer.”

  He didn’t answer her, didn’t try to grab her either as she sailed past him, her head held high. Disappointment flowed through her. A dumb emotion to have considering that she didn’t want him chasing after her.

  He was a Taggart, yes, but worse, he’d deceived her by making her think he was a client interested in her services. Heck, he’d lied about Connor being the one to invite him to the spring ball. Something she didn’t bring up when she had the chance.

  ARG.

  She totally should have.

  With a toss of her head, she shoved the door open, stable heels –thank God—clicking against the sidewalk as she headed home. Luckily, her apartment was only a block away. Plus, the day was nice and the yellow pollen apocalypse that happened every spring hadn’t arrived.

  With a deep breath, she put a smile on her face and pushed Sawyer out of her mind.

  A hand grabbed her arm, whirling her around. “Excuse me, but what do you think you are doing?”

  Sawyer’s sexy as sin face greeted her, making her body light up with desire. “You forgot something.” He held out his free hand. A slip of paper rested in the center of his palm. It was the contact information for the shoe repair guy.

  Gingerly, she
plucked it from his hand. “Why?”

  He let her go, but neither of them made a move to leave. “It seemed important to you. Your shoes.”

  “I supposed that sounds silly, huh.” This time, she made sure to tuck the paper into the inside of her purse and zip the pocket. “To be that worried over shoes, but... and this might sound weird, they belonged to my mom. We have the exact same shoe size.”

  She braced for his response. He’d either think she was straight up mental or he’d be politely understanding. Either reaction would make her feel like a freak. After all, who wore their dead mother’s shoes?

  “When I was a kid in middle school, I wanted a pair of Jordans so the other kids would stop giving me a hard time for wearing no-name sneakers. Took my mom six months of extra shifts to buy them, and I helped out too by bussing tables at the diner. Those shoes... fucking amazing. I felt like the luckiest kid on earth. Barely took them off, except to sleep and shower. Eventually, they got too tight, but I kept right on wearing them until the soles were slick. Finally had to give them up when my toes started cramping up.” He swallowed. “I know what it’s like to treasure something that seems ridiculous on the outside, but when you know the meaning behind it...”

  She licked her lips. “You didn’t know they belonged to her.”

  “No, but they were obviously precious to you, and that means something to me.”

  “Why is that?”

  He smiled, but it seemed rather painful for him, like he was about to confess a deep, dark secret. “When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.” Then he pivoted, leaving her standing there, watching his retreating form.

  7

  London

  “It’s like I can’t help myself around him.” London plopped down on the sofa in the living room and laid her head on her best friend’s shoulder. “I tell him things, really personal things, that aren’t his business. He’s not even my friend, but all he has to do is look at me with those eyes and that mouth and body... and I’m like,” she opened her mouth wide, lifting her hands and pretending to puke. “Someone has to stop me. You have to stop me.”

  “First, I get it. Hot guys make you nervous,” Maya said and London sat up. “This is a fact that has plagued many women.”

  London scrunched her nose. “Hot guys don’t do that to me. They make you nervous.”

  Maya frowned. “Oh yeah, that is me. Anyway, I don’t know why you’re blaming him. It’s not as if he’s making you talk.”

  “Feels like it,” London grumbled to Maya. They’d been best friends since freshman year at NC State and had bonded over an exceptionally ridiculous freshman dorm competition. “He tried to tell me my business model wasn’t sustainable.”

  “You said it wasn’t sustainable if you didn’t raise your rates,” Maya pointed out.

  “I know that and you know that, but he didn’t have remind me.” London curled her legs on the sofa. “He’s just so put together and arrogant, but charming that I don’t want to have any weaknesses in front of him.”

  “He gave you solid advice—sorta—so it doesn’t sound like he thinks less of you.”

  London made a face. “Are you on his side or mine?”

  “I’m on the side that keeps my bestie in business for years and years to come.” Maya’s pretty brown eyes twinkled. “If you want me to not like him, then I won’t.”

  London pressed her lips together, narrowing her gaze. “It’s a good thing you’re such an amazing friend.”

  “And that I can pay half the rent.”

  “There is that.”

  “Look, maybe you should think of Sawyer as just another guy who’s interested in getting to know you. Who cares about his last name? Does he actually work for his dad?”

  London shook her head. “He said he wanted to take over his dad’s company, but he also lives in Raleigh, which wouldn’t make that easy, unless he planned to move headquarters. Only that would be a logistics nightmare.”

  “I think you should talk to him, ask point blank what his intentions are.”

  “Then should I tell him to speak with my father before he comes a-courtin’?”

  Maya stuck out her tongue. “You know what I mean. Besides, you can’t tell me that Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy doesn’t intrigue you. You’re dying to get in his head and learn what makes him tick.”

  She couldn’t deny that, for sure, and her brothers had certainly been no help. Drew all but vowed to put the Taggarts out of business, by any means necessary if Sawyer came sniffing around her again. Connor had simply laughed it off and teased the crap out of her for being caught in a position that wasn’t compromising at all.

  As for her dad... “You know what I found very telling?”

  “That you didn’t describe what a perfect body Sawyer Taggart has.” Maya flipped her phone around. “Look at this and tell me that you’re not hot and bothered.”

  London studied the picture of him, his muscular back to the camera as his long gait ate up the distance between him and his final destination. With each stride, his pants pulled tight, outlining assets that would put David Beckham’ s soccer sculpted body to shame.

  “Maybe because I’ve been too busy thinking about other things, like my business, I haven’t had time to be hot and bothered by him.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Maya’s lips thinned. “Stop lying. You two kissed, and you said it was literally so good, you needed to order a new vibrator.”

  “Oh my gosh. I was drunk when I said that. London grabbed her own phone, looking up the shoe repairman Debbie had recommended. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to find out what the shoe repair guy charges.”

  Maya flipped her phone, around, scrolling through her feed. “I’ll keep looking for pictures of Sawyer to share with you.”

  London’s heart sank when she finally found his rates. While she knew he was worth her half of their rent, she didn’t have the extra rent money to pay both.

  There was a knock at the door.

  London glanced at her roommate. “Did you order anything from Uber Eats?”

  “Nope.” She shook her head. “It’s not the third Friday of the month, remember.”

  “It wasn’t the third Friday of the month last Friday,” she reminded her as she uncurled her legs and went to answer the door.

  “That was a special occasion and you know it.”

  “While I’ll agree that the anniversary of the first The Office episode is something worth celebrating, I don’t think it merits sushi from Granada Hibachi. It’s literally the most expensive sushi place in town.”

  “I will not apologize for having great taste is sushi.”

  “Mmm-hmmm. It’s a good thing I love you like the sister.” Another insistent knock and London called out, “Coming.” She checked the hallway, then opened the door to the delivery guy.

  “I’m here to pick up your shoes.” He held out a box. “Put them in here and I’ll have them back in a day or two.”

  “Do I know you?”

  “I’m Rodney. Debbie’s friend. She said had you some old school dope Louboutins that could use a little TLC, and Mr. Taggart sent me over with instructions to let you know that everything’s been taken care of.”

  Her face flamed, yet... it was sweet that he would send Rodney to her. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what to do. Get her shoes fixed right away, or possibly a year from now. Did she want to wait that long to feel close to her mom again? “I don’t know...”

  “Swear to God he said it.” His white blonde brows crashed together. “He said you’d broken the heel and Debbie superglued it back together.”

  London nodded. “They held up.”

  “Lemme see.”

  Suddenly, her shoes appeared in front of her, Maya’s hands holding them out and dropping them into Rodney’s box. “Here you go.”

  London glanced over her shoulder. Maya stood there, a huge grin on her face. “Thanks.”

  “As the kids at Chik-Fil-A say: my pleasure.”

  London rolled her eyes
, then turned her attention to Rodney. “What do you think?”

  He let out a low whistle as he examined them. “These are dope. I’ll have them back in a day or two. Good as new.”

  “Please be careful with them. They’re very special to me.”

  Rodney grinned. “Mr. Taggart made that very clear.” He put the top of the box back on and secured it with a large rubber band. “Have a good night.”

  “You, too.” London stared at him for a beat, then shut the door, once again facing her best friend “I can’t believe he did that.”

  “The nerve, huh?” Maya crossed her arms over her chest. “How dare he do something so thoughtful.”

  “I’m not a petulant child. I can accept gifts... I just want to know why he did this?”

  “Because he wants to see you again.”

  “That’s not happening.” London pushed away from the door and moved to the living room. “But I will email him when I get my shoes back.”

  “Email him?” Maya laughed. “Why don’t you send him a fax, old lady?”

  “It’s the polite thing to do.”

  Maya rolled her eyes. “That’s what thank you notes are for.”

  “That’s too personal.”

  “He’s paying for your favorite pair of shoes to be fixed. Shoes that belonged to your momma. How much more personal can you get with him?”

  “Stop making sense.”

  “As soon as you stop being stubborn,” Maya countered. She firmed her jaw. “As a barista, you should listen to me because I know about men.”

  London burst out laughing. “I can’t with you.”

  “Then don’t and let’s finish our show before it gets too late. Someone has a seven thirty a.m. new client meeting tomorrow.”

  “It better not be Sawyer again,” she muttered, but her heart leapt at the thought while other parts of her, the parts that remembered how damn good he kissed got on board with that line of thinking, too.

  Stupid body.

  *

  The next morning, London was both relieved and disappointed that Sawyer was not her first client of the day. Rather it was Maggie Ray, a woman with light brown hair and big blue eyes sat across from her, twisting her hands up in the fabric of her skirt. She looked slightly scared.