Her Billionaire Best Friend (The Black Tie Billionaires #4) - Jo Grafford Page 0,2
me for going all zombie-fied and taking a bite out of the nearest slab of protein.” Tipping up her chin and grinning, she confided in a raspy whisper of doom, “That would be you, Mr. Bodyguard, sir.”
He snorted out a laugh and pushed himself off his bike. “So you’re saying my options are to buy you lunch or be cannibalized?”
“You catch on quick,” she retorted cheerfully.
Glancing in concern down at her much-wrinkled white uniform, he sighed, “Lunch it is.”
“Wise decision.” She beamed happily at him as he led her across the sidewalk to the short trio of stairs leading into the Chevak House. It was a simple two-story clapboard structure painted white. A country blue door kept it from being completely nondescript. However, it was still a plain looking building. It boasted no other adornments — no shutters, no flower pots, no welcome sign.
An attractive Native American woman hurried their way to seat them. She bobbed her head by way of a welcome. “Two?” Her dark hair was pulled back into two sleek braids, and she was wearing a simple cotton dress beneath her white, ruffled apron.
Titus had never seen her without her apron. “Yes, thank you, Geela.” She was the owner’s wife. Very nice. Not overly talkative. Then again, English was not her native tongue.
She nodded without smiling. “Follow me.” She led them through the crowded little dive, past a half-dozen roughly hewn, long wooden tables with benches. A pair of merry-eyed boys were hunkered in one corner of the restaurant, bouncing a tiny ball in a game of jacks. They glanced up at Titus and waved as he passed by them.
He winked and cocked his thumb and forefinger at them, making them snicker. One of the boys mimicked his moves, winking and pointing back.
Geela led them to a raised platform in the rear of the eatery. Up a short flight of creaky stairs were two built-in booths. A party of six was crowded into one. Geela nodded Titus and Jolene into the other.
“Thank you.” While Jolene was scooting onto the closest brightly cushioned bench, Titus stuffed a twenty-dollar bill into Geela’s hand. That was for reserving the last spot in the house for him and his date after a hasty phone call earlier. The Chevak House always juggled a crush of customers during the lunch hour. He had no doubt their patrons were packed to overflowing on the tables crammed on the covered back porch.
The only light in the room was from the arched, cottage-paned windows and the red, hand-dipped tapers burning on the tables.
“Charming,” Jolene noted. Pure fascination was painted across her expressive features. She folded her arms on the table and leaned forward conversationally as he took his seat. “I’m not even going to ask how you managed to get us a table.”
“I’m a regular.” He arched a teasing brow at her. “Might as well have my name engraved on this table.”
“Hey!” He pretended to look hurt. “You wouldn’t have questioned my claim if I was a Calcagni.” He was employed by Rhys Calcagni, the Chief Operating Officer of Genesis & Sons. Well, technically, Titus was now jointly employed by Rhys and his wife, Alora, the CEO of DRAW Corporation, since the two of them had recently tied the knot. Their combined net worth ran into the billions. Many billions.
“Or a Maddox,” she announced matter-of-factly. Alora was formerly a Maddox, another one of the oldest, wealthiest families in town.
“Clearly you don’t know much about the Rands,” he taunted, leaning forward in a perfect imitation of her position, very much enjoying how close it brought their faces.
“No, but I’d like to.” She sobered as her dark eyes scanned his features.
“Same.” Probably should have lied about that fact, since the plan was to allow himself only one date with her. Still, he couldn’t help wondering what she was thinking as she took in his plain black suit, white dress shirt, and black tie. It was his signature uniform, one designed to look clean cut and professional without drawing too much attention to himself. He owned few other items of clothing.
Geela returned to their table with a pot of steaming black tea and two glazed pottery cups.
“Please assure me this is loaded with caffeine,” Jolene sighed, reaching for the pot handle.
“It is.” He eyed her curiously. “That tired, huh?”
“Yes, but I’m getting my second wind,” she informed him loftily. She filled his cup before setting the pot down.