Mister Moneybags(37)

“I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to do this.” Reaching into my pocket, I took out a wad of cash.

Holding his hand out, he said, “No.”

“Please…”

Jelani pushed my hand away.

“I have to give you something,” I insisted.

“Then, come back once a week.”

Did he just say what I thought he did?

“You want me to come back and do this again?”

“Yes. I appreciate the company. It helps take my mind off things. When you live alone, you think too much. This was like therapy for me.”

His request blew me away, but there was only one answer.

“I can do that.”





Stepping out of my apartment on the way to work, I noticed a black Town Car parked out front. My heart jumped. Dex had broken his promise not to see me, and I couldn’t say I was disappointed.

The driver got out and came around.

He nodded. “Ms. George.”

I waited for the window to roll down or for Dex to emerge but neither happened.

“Where is Dex?”

“Mr. Truitt instructed me to be at your disposal this week.”

“He’s not here?”

“No. He would like me to safely see you to your destination.”

“Oh. Um…okay. Thank you.”

He opened the back door and let me in. After giving him the address to my building, I immediately picked up the phone.

Dex answered, “Bianca.”

The sound of his deep, soothing voice gave me shivers.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s more comfortable than the back of my tandem bike, isn’t it?”

“Jay’s bike, yes.” I shook my head. “I can only imagine how fast you had to work to make the bicycle thing happen that day, by the way.”

“Let’s just say I was highly motivated.”

“What’s with the chauffeur service?”

“I thought you’d like a break from dangerous taxis. And I was looking for a change of pace. I’ve been cabbing it to work. Sam is at your beck and call all week.”

“It’s really not necessary.”

“I know that. But if I can’t be with you, at least I know you’re safe and sound in good hands.”

“I can’t use it tonight,” I said.

How exactly was I supposed to tell him that I’d accepted a date with a co-worker?

One of the editors at work, Eamon Carpenter, had asked me out. The word “no” had been at the tip of my tongue until I realized that it might benefit me to go out with someone other than Dex. I’d be breaking my own self-imposed rule not to get involved with men I worked with, but it would be a test as to just how deep into Dex my heart really was. We weren’t exclusive, so I was able to justify it. I absolutely knew that I wasn’t going to let things get to a physical level with Eamon, in any case. So, I figured there was really no harm.

I felt compelled to be honest with him.

“I’m going on a date tonight. I don’t feel right taking your car.”

There was nothing but dead silence on the other end of the line. I swore he’d hung up.

“Are you there?”

“Yes.” He began to trip over his words. “I’m just a little stunned, to be honest. I haven’t been…I mean, I…”

“You haven’t been what?”

“I haven’t been seeing anyone. I just assumed…”

He was having trouble saying it.

“You assumed that I wouldn’t date anyone during this break?”

“I guess I was just hopeful.” More silence before he asked, “Where is he taking you?”

“Bistro Nine.” I sighed. “It’s nothing serious, Dex. I don’t plan to let him…do anything.”

His breathing became heavier.

“Are you okay?”

“I have to go,” he abruptly said.

“Alright, I—” He’d hung up before I had a chance to say anything further.

Later, when I arrived at the office, there was a package sitting on my desk. Upon opening it, I realized it contained the photos from Joel’s shoot at Dex’s house. Dex was supposed to have chosen his favorites to be used for the article. From the ones that he vetted, I would choose three or four images.

The first couple of shots were of Dex in front of his window overlooking the park. I marveled at his beauty: his lustrous black hair, his tall stature, his impeccable clothes, his big, masculine hands. In one of the pictures, he reminded me of a more handsome version of James Bond as played by Pierce Brosnan, but with more facial hair.

There were two more shots featuring him in front of his fireplace. The next couple of photos were from the ones he’d shot of him and Bandit on the couch.

My heart clenched. The last one was framed and had a note on it. Mr. Truitt wanted you to have this. It’s not for the article.

It was the photo of Dex, me, and Bandit, the one where the dog had a paw on each of us. It was making me emotional. He’d clearly sent this over before our conversation this morning. Guilt set in.

Damn you, Dex.

The reality was that I didn’t want to go on this date with Eamon. I was forcing myself to do it to prove that I still had the capability to connect with someone else in the event that my heart was to be destroyed by Mister Moneybags. It was a self-protective mechanism. Deep down, I knew that…but Dex didn’t.