My Billionaire Fling by Maci Dillon
SOPHIA
“Kelli, can I see you for a moment, please?” I breeze through the front doors of Incontro past the front desk, where Kelli has worked diligently by my side since the beginning.
“Of course, I’ll be right there,” she answers, pushing back from her computer and rushes to the kitchenette.
As I enter my office later than usual for a Monday morning, I fall into my chair and open my laptop. My office is light and airy where a few intimate portraits painted by my brother, Jarett, line the walls with quotes about love and relationships. The desk where I spend most of my days when not with clients is spotless and free of clutter. Exactly how I left it on Saturday.
Did I mention I’m married to my work?
Recently passing the thirty-nine-year mark, I’ve spent most of my adult life learning about the human psyche, evaluating personal relationships, core values, and matching potential suitors, coaching clients through the perfect dates, and working one on one guiding clients through their romantic beliefs and expectations.
Loving what I do and despite the constant ridicule of being a single woman devoted to the happiness of others, I wouldn’t change my profession for the world. Nothing makes me happier than matching two people together who may never have had the chance without our services.
Kelli enters shortly after with a latte for each of us.
“Big night at Maximum, boss?” She chuckles, knowing I’m prone to be sluggish on a Monday after our weekly catch-up at Maxine’s speakeasy.
“Ugh, big weekend in general.” Kelli nods. Having stayed until the very end of the gala, she can appreciate how exhausting it is to work until three in the morning on Sunday and show up at the office again the following day.
“Mmm, best coffee ever,” I drawl as I relax into my padded chair, cross my legs, and consider what I need from Kelli today.
She waits patiently, notebook in hand, pen at the ready.
“Does the name, Lugreno, mean anything to you?”
Fine lines crease her forehead at my question.
“As in the guy you met at the gala?”
Of course, she’d been with me when he approached and didn’t appear to know who he was. “Want me to look into him?”
“Discreetly, yes. Report back to me before lunch with anything you find.” She nods, narrowing her eyes at me.
“May I ask, as your friend, not your assistant, is this for personal or business purposes?”
Kelli has been my assistant for seven years. When I launched Incontro, she weighed in on the location of our office we secured in downtown Central London after months of searching for the right place to call home. We first met at college. Two years younger than me, she was studying business with psychology as her second major while I slogged away at my master’s in human psychology.
“As you well know, everything I do is related to this business. It’s my life.”
The answer satisfies her, though I don’t miss the cheeky side grin as she opens the door of my office, ready to leave.
“Please also check the last few matches and meetings for a client named Marnie Callaghan, would you?”
“Consider it done.”
Pulling a small, folded note from my bag, I open it and lay it flat on my mouse pad.
Lunch Monday at noon.
Maryland’s Bar & Grill.
Gabe L.
Unsure what to think of this mysterious invitation and why he wants to meet with me, I pop it into my bottom drawer and try to focus on the events of the day. I have meetings with potential new clients after a boardroom meeting with my consultants in twenty minutes.
On returning to my office at the end of the morning, I check the time until my elusive lunch with Mr. Lugreno.
“You have a lunch meeting on your calendar. Do you have a moment to discuss my findings before you leave?” Kelli stands in the doorway of my office as I finish up a prerequisite meeting with a new client on the phone.
Without glancing up, I signal for her to come in and take a seat.
“What did you find?”
“Nada.”
I’m surprised to hear she has shown up without a single piece of information. She places a client report in front of me. A quick perusal for the name, Gabe Lugreno, shows Marnie wasn’t in attendance with him due to any association with this agency.
“He’s never been a client?” I shift my focus to Kelli, who’s rocking back and forth on her heels, arms crossed, a knowing smile on her lips.
“He’s your lunch appointment, isn’t he?”
Nothing gets past Kelli.
Ever.
“Business meeting, yes.”
“Ah-ha.” She gleams teasingly. As I roll my eyes at her, she adds, “Never been a client. You may know his name from Lugreno Enterprises, though. Perhaps Jarett has had something to do with them on one of his properties.”
Possibly. Jarett dabbles in property investment as if his crazy artistic talents and owning a well- sought-after gallery isn’t enough to manage.
“If you don’t intend to sleep with him, what does it matter if he’s been a client or not?” Kelli doesn’t dance around a situation but surges head-on into the depths of it, no fucks given. Usually, it’s one of the many things I love about her.
Usually.
Shuffling papers on my desk, I prepare for my absence over lunch, knowing if I pay attention to her incessant need for gossip, I’ll never hear the end of it.
“It matters because I have no idea why he’s called a meeting.”
And, because she’s not far off base. While younger than me and not my normal type, the man holds a part of my womanhood for ransom. An itch I can usually scratch myself shows no sign of dissipating.
He’s been on my mind all weekend.
Aware of my hormonal inclination toward the stranger, I shield myself with a thicker-than-usual wall before I walk into the restaurant and lock eyes with him. No way in hell will he ever know he makes me weak in his presence.
As I stride across the busy dining room in his direction, he stands to greet me. “Sophia, thank you for meeting me on such short notice.” He offers his hand as expected at a business luncheon.
The heated kiss he places on the back of my hand, not so much.
Torn between flattered and disheveled, I mentally adjust my armor and slide gracefully into the chair opposite him.
“I trust you won’t mind I ordered for us both?” He grins as the waiter appears with a flaming grill plate with a huge serving of sticky ribs and nothing resembling a salad.
Yes, I mind.
He places the pile of meat-covered animal skeletons between us while a young waitress rushes to his side with a plate for each of us.
As a woman with good business sense, I smile politely and kindly ask the waiter for a Caesar salad to accompany the side of slaughtered pig.
Gabe laughs hard at my request, catching me off-guard. “Didn’t pick you for the type to be scared of getting messy over a meal.”
“You picked that up in the thirty seconds we spoke at the gala?”
He shakes his head. “No, but I was quick to note you’re a woman who loves a challenge. Hence, why in the middle of your workday, you’re about to eat a meal with a stranger… with your hands.”
Throwing my head back, I laugh at his assessment.
Ten points for meeting me head-on with a challenge. One I’ll never back down from.
My gaze narrows on his whimsical expression as my laughter fades to silence.
“What am I doing here, and how do you know of my parents?”
Now it’s his turn to appear floored.
While waiting patiently for a response, my gaze follows the sauce from the rib he’s slowly devouring as it smears his cheek. His eyes are steadfast and focused on me, but I continue to stare without concern.
Licking his fingers, one by one, I clench my thighs tightly beneath the table.
The fucker knows exactly what he’s doing to me, but I want answers.
“There’s a thing called Google. You’d be amazed at the information provided online. You should check it out, but I imagine you searched my name before meeting with me today.”
I may have, but that’s beside the point.
Annoyed at his deflection, I press a little harder. “You searched for information on my parents?”
“Of course not, I searched for information on you, and I happened upon an article or two.”
He searches my eyes until my gaze falls to the plate of food between us. Picking up a messy rib to fill the silence—due to my lack of response—I moan at the saucy deliciousness.
A smile threatens the corner of his mouth, and his eyes darken as he watches my mouth with anticipation.
Yeah, two can play this game.
“Does it bother you that I mentioned your parents?” he finally speaks.
“It bothers me that you googled me in the first place,” I respond, wiping my hands clean.
“A friend of mine in New York has a cousin with an adult matchmaking service, similar to yours but more for the common folk rather than the elite.”
Finally, we get to the reason for this meeting. Let’s get it over with so I can get on with my day. “Go on,” I encourage him, thanking the waiter as he returns with my salad and pours each of us a glass of wine.
“Due to family circumstances, they’re looking to sell. Perhaps you’d be interested in taking over and branching out internationally?”
“What makes you think I’d be interested in expanding?”
“You’re a go-getter, and you have the money to support a move like that.”
The fuck?
“You have no idea of my financial situation, Mr. Lugreno, nor is this something I wish to discuss with a man I don’t know or trust.” Astounded at the nerve of his comments, I gulp down my wine to wash away the growing agitation.
“I know enough. Your parents left a substantial fortune when they died, split between you and your siblings.”
“If you’d done your research correctly, you’d know they didn’t die, they were killed.” The words taste like charred donkey as they fall from my mouth.
“In a plane crash, I know.”
Emotions bubble up, and I struggle to contain them.
“It was no accident, as I’m sure you’re aware.” Tossing my salad around the plate, my appetite fades, along with my desire to continue this discussion. “If you’d like to send through some details on the sale of the business, please feel free.” Pushing the plate aside, I pull a business card from my purse. Handing it across the table, I add, “If there’s nothing else, I must be getting back to the office.”
Gabe nods solemnly, accepting the card. “Of course. Can we see each other again?”
Amazed at his brazenness, I quip, “I imagine if I want more information, I’ll speak directly to the owner.”
“Business aside. Let’s do dinner tomorrow night before I fly back to the states.”
I consider his date with Marnie only two days ago.
“Marnie, was it? We met at the gala.”
“A date with an acquaintance. You, of all people, know all dates aren’t created equal.”
Unprepared to give him an answer while not thinking clearly, I smile. “Send me the details of the potential business opportunity, and I’ll get back to you.”
