Stranded with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #1)(69)

He looked perplexed for a minute, then grimaced. “I don’t know what’s playing, to be honest. I forgot to ask Audrey to check.” He pulled out his phone.

She put her hand over his, stopping him. “We can just see whatever’s showing. No big deal.”

Logan’s expression was a bit sheepish. “I seem to have thought of everything but the date itself.”

“Oh?”

They began to walk and Logan guided her through the streaming crowd.

“Indeed. I cleared my schedule, had Audrey purchase date clothes, picked out the restaurant, memorized some Plato—the usual. I even rode the subway here, just like a normal New Yorker.” He grimaced. “I’d prefer not to do that on a regular basis. The man next to me smelled like piss.”

She laughed again, feeling an insane urge to hug him. “Well, I appreciate the effort.”

They walked two blocks, chatting about ridiculous things like the weather, Gretchen’s obvious dislike of him and her protectiveness of Bront?, Cooper’s coffee shop, and Audrey’s efficiency as an assistant. Simple, easy conversation. She loved it.

“Here we go,” Logan said, and they stopped outside of a small pizza parlor with an old yellow-lit sign. “I thought we’d grab a slice here.”

It . . . definitely didn’t look like the regular sort of place Logan frequented. “You like their food?”

“I did when I was a teenager. This was my first job, you know.”

She looked up at him, surprised. “You worked here?”

“I did.” He stared up at the sign, the expression on his face half fond, half rueful. “I was going through a rebellious phase—drinking, smoking, staying out all night. The usual teenage boy stuff. My father couldn’t deal with me. Of course, I never dealt well with my father, either. I ended up skipping classes for a few days and was suspended from school. My father wanted to teach me a lesson. He told me that I was too arrogant for my own good and that I needed to learn from someone who wasn’t terrified of my family’s money or position. So he dropped me off here.” Logan gestured at the pizza parlor.

“A family friend?” she guessed, watching his face.

“A very old friend of his from school. It turned out my father had given him the loan to start the place, so he owed my dad a favor. That favor was taking me on as an employee for a week. Andy—that’s the owner’s name—was a real drill sergeant, too. He had me washing floors and scrubbing toilets and standing over the sink for hours at a time. I remember that was the longest week of my life. I hated every minute of it, but my father told me that if I didn’t stay, he’d kick me out. So I stayed.”

“Your father sounds . . .” She struggled for the right word. “Interesting.”

“My father was a real a**hole. But he was right about Andy. He kicked my ass and worked me harder than anyone ever had. And you know what happened at the end of that week?”

“Your father relented?”

“Nope,” Logan said with a half smile. “Andy fired me. Said I was the shittiest worker he’d ever seen and that three-year-olds had more drive than I did. That woke me up. Here was someone who wasn’t afraid of my father’s money or position. He just wanted a kid to wash dishes, and he ended up with me, who’d never washed a dish in my life and wasn’t about to start. But I was more afraid of my father than Andy, so I had to convince him to keep me on. Which meant working harder. I worked there all summer. Learned a lot about hard work and running a business. I respected the hell out of Andy, too.” He stared up at the pizza sign fondly again. “Hungry?”

Bront? nodded, fascinated by the story he’d told her. It gave her a lot to think about. “You’ve been wealthy all your life, haven’t you?”

“Always, but it wasn’t easy, either.” Logan stepped inside and moved to the counter, pointing at one of the pizzas and then holding up two fingers.

She waited for him to continue.

“My father was a hard man.”

“Surely not all hard. Your mother must have loved him.”

He gave her a wry look as he handed a twenty to the cashier. “My mother was a showgirl who wanted my father’s money. She tolerated his bad moods since he was rich, and he tolerated her since she was gorgeous and pregnant with me. She died when I was five.”

“I’m so sorry.” Bront? took her plate and followed Logan to one of the small, dingy tables in the back of the parlor.

“I am, too. That meant it was just me and my father.” He shrugged. “He died two years ago.”

And two years ago, Logan had broken off his engagement with Danica. No wonder he had trust issues. Bront? took a small bite, a mix of emotions swirling through her. “This pizza is good,” she said, changing the subject to safer territory. “Thank you.”

“So what was your first job?” He took a bite, waiting for her to respond.

She grimaced. “Babysitter, of course.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“It depended on the kids, really. Some were great, some were horrible. It gave me a lot of time to read when they were napping, though.”

He grinned. “I can see why you took the job.”

“I am very transparent, aren’t I?” She smiled impishly back at him.