Stranded with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #1)(42)

Everyone was staring at them as if they knew exactly what they’d were doing. Sharon was giving Bront? a highly suspicious look, the other waitresses were giving her mystified glances, and only the consultant was acting as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

The consultant turned to Logan. “The next employee on the list is Marj Davis.”

Logan straightened his tie, barely glancing at the woman that stood nervously. “I’ve got another appointment to get to. I trust you’ll be able to handle it from here?”

Bront? studied her nails, positive that her cheeks were lit up like a string of Christmas lights. She peered at Marj’s face, but Marj seemed relieved that she wouldn’t be meeting with Logan after all.

Sharon was still staring at Bront?, though.

“Everything’s under control, Mr. Hawkings,” the consultant said. “I’ll send you my full report in the morning.”

“Excellent,” Logan said, adjusting a cuff link as he turned toward the door. He paused, glanced at Bront?, and turned back to the watching group. “I’ll be taking Miss Dawson with me.”

And there it was. The looks of the other waitresses turned from confused to knowing. Bront? gave them all a hesitant wave and then bolted for the door as soon as Logan opened it. Everyone knew she’d just made a ‘special’ arrangement with the boss. Everyone. Her cheeks stung with embarrassment. Her earlier bravado about not caring what they thought vanished instantly.

“Well,” she told him as soon as they stepped out on the street. “That’s going to make things awkward when I have to go back to work.”

He frowned down at her, as if just now realizing what she meant. “Should I have the consultant speak to them?”

“What? No!” God, she could just imagine how that conversation would go. “Let’s just forget about it. I’ll give it a few days to die down before I come back. I’ll talk with the manager about clearing my schedule.”

“I’m clearing it.” He put a hand on the small of her back, directing her to a waiting black sedan.

She stopped, looking up at him. “For how long?”

“Indefinitely. I want you with me.”

Her mouth opened, and then she snapped it shut again. Hadn’t she been so excited to take a vacation? To get away for a few days? This was just an extended one, really. “And I’ll have my job when I get back?”

“You will,” he agreed.

Of course, if she and Logan didn’t work out, that would make returning to work doubly awkward. She tried not to think about that. “A happy life consists in tranquillity of mind,” she reminded herself. If that philosophy worked for Cicero, it would work for her.

Logan moved to the door of the sedan and opened it for her, gesturing for her to enter. Bront? eyed it. Black, shiny, and brand-new. It screamed money. Totally not her kind of ride. She pulled her keys out of her purse and jingled them. “I drove myself here.”

Logan extended his hand, palm up.

She gave him a curious look. “You want to drive to my apartment?”

“No.” He grimaced and looked at his watch, clearly torn. “I wasn’t lying, Bront?. I do have a meeting I have to get to back in the city. We don’t have time to go back to your apartment. I can have someone drive your car back safely.”

Her jaw dropped. “You want me to go with you? Right now? I don’t have any of my stuff.”

A hint of a smile curved his mouth, and he slid on a pair of Oakley sunglasses. “I need to go, but I’m not letting you out of my sight again. So, yes, I want you to come with me.”

“I’ll need clothes,” she warned him.

“I have credit cards.”

Yeah, so did she, but they were pretty much maxed at the moment. Bront? crossed her arms and studied him. “So you’re going to buy me a plane ticket, put me up in a hotel, buy me clothes, and pay me a salary, all so I can spend time with you?”

“That’s right.”

“That puts all the power in your hands, don’t you think?”

The smile he gave her was feral. “I didn’t get where I am by letting others have control.”

Yes, but what did that mean for a relationship, exactly? “I don’t like being a kept woman.”

“Think of them as necessary expenses for my new . . . philosophy consultant.”

She snorted.

He grinned, and for a minute, he didn’t look like the confident, aloof billionaire. He looked like a mischievous little boy. Her heart melted, just a little.

“All right,” she grumbled and stepped forward, handing him the keys. “But if you start picking out my clothes, I’m leaving.”

“I don’t know a thing about women’s sizes,” Logan told her, pocketing the keys. “You’re safe on that count.”

Bront? slid into the sedan, noticing the plush black leather seats. The windows were heavily tinted, the interior immaculate. A man in a black suit and sunglasses nodded at her from the driver’s seat.

Logan slid in beside her and shut the door.

“Where to?” The driver glanced at the mirror, his gaze on Logan.

“Airport.” Logan rested a hand on Bront?’s knee, the gesture intimate and possessive. He looked over at her and that arch smile returned to his mouth. “Ever ridden on a private plane?”