The Billionaire and the Virgin(80)

“Damn, that makes me hot when you say that,” Rob told her. “I think I like it when you take charge.”

She just gave his hand a gentle squeeze. She knew he was nervous. He said he didn’t care what Logan Hawkings thought of him, but she suspected otherwise. He wanted the man’s respect, if nothing else. Marjorie hoped Logan would have an open mind about things, or this afternoon was going to be very, very awkward.

They arrived at the cafe early and got a table in the back, tucked away from the lunch rush. Rob fidgeted in his seat next to her, but Marjorie was serene.

She knew what she wanted—Rob. Everything else was just going to have to fall into place and cope.

Soon enough, the cafe began to fill with customers, and Marjorie watched the door as Rob fiddled with his phone with his right hand, the fingers of his left interlaced with hers under the table. As she watched, she spotted Brontë’s dark curls, followed a half step behind by the taller Logan.

“They’re here,” she murmured to Rob, and stood up to wave at her friend.

Rob slowly stood at her side, and as Brontë and Logan approached the table, she saw their expressions change to dismay as they saw who she was with.

Marjorie raised a hand as they approached the table. “Before anyone says anything, this is not about business. This is about me. And I’d like for you both to hear me out before anyone says anything else.”

Brontë and Logan exchanged a look. The billionaire looked pissed, Marjorie noticed, but Brontë laid a calming hand on his sleeve and he shrugged, impatience stamped into his features. He pulled his chair out for his wife and then sat down, and Marjorie sat again too. Her hand found Rob’s under the table again and she gave him a confident smile that she didn’t entirely feel at the moment.

“What’s going on?” Brontë asked, her voice as polite and friendly as ever.

Marjorie kept smiling. “I just wanted you guys to know that Rob and I are back together.” She looked over at him, her gaze filled with love. “We reconciled yesterday, and since I know things left off badly the last time we were all together, I thought we should hash things out. The truth of the matter is that Rob is exactly the person who he says he is . . . and I love him. He loves me with all my flaws, and I love him. And we wanted to bring this out into the open, because no one is hiding anymore.” She licked her lips, her throat suddenly dry. “And he’s going to be a major, major part of my life, so you’re just going to have to accept him.”

Brontë’s eyes widened, and a tiny smile touched her mouth. She looked over at Logan.

Logan was stone-faced for a long moment. He studied Marjorie, and then his gaze slid back to Rob, who was being unnaturally silent. Only the squeeze of his hand told her his true feelings.

Then, Logan cleared his throat. “I read about what you did with the Cannon Networks. Sold for a billion?”

“Bill point two,” Rob said.

Logan grunted. “And you gave it all to charity?”

“Three charities, actually. One got the majority, but yeah. Two sister charities got an equal share.” He shrugged, and Marjorie knew he was pretending an ease he didn’t feel.

“Why?” Logan’s question was succinct. “You never struck me as the charitable type.”

“Because Marjorie hated who I was,” Rob told him. “And I wanted to become someone that she could be proud of. That seemed like the logical first step.”

“So you gave away a billion dollars for Marjorie?”

“More or less.”

Well, this was getting awkward. She could feel her cheeks heating uncomfortably.

Logan grunted. He leaned back. “It takes stones to do something like that.”

“You’d do it for your wife,” Rob shot back.

“I would,” Logan agreed.

The table was silent for a long moment.

“Well,” Logan said, picking up the conversation again. “I have to admire a guy that goes all in for something he wants. You ever feel like talking business, you let me know. We can start fresh.”

Rob’s smile returned, and Marjorie felt like falling to the floor in relief. “Thanks, man, but I’m holding off for now. I’ve got a few ideas up my sleeve for future endeavors, but right now my entire focus is on one thing.” He lifted Marjorie’s hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “This woman right here.”

And Marjorie couldn’t stop smiling.





Epilogue



“Quit cussing,” Marjorie teased Rob, tucking her chin against his shoulder. “You’re scaring people.”

“I’m not f*cking scaring anyone,” Rob growled, staring straight ahead at the card in his hand. “I’m just . . . f*cking . . . pissed.” He punched a number on the screen of the test unit he was trying out. “They’re not calling my f*cking number on purpose!”

She rolled her eyes. The man was terribly impatient. “We’re here to test the cards. That’s all. And it’s not like you need the money!”

“Bingo!” someone called behind Rob.

He tossed down his electric card in disgust. “That’s it. I’m done. It’s rigged.”

Marjorie giggled. Such a poor loser, her Rob. “It’s not rigged.”