The Billionaires: The Bosses (Lover's Triangle 2)

“Don’t knock it till you try it.” Jewel waggled a brow.

Exhilaration trilled down Bayli’s spine. But she wouldn’t go in the direction of a ménage à trois with this conversation. Even if she was dying to pick Jewel’s brain about it. That would be getting way ahead of herself—she didn’t even know if Rory wanted her in the way she was thinking of him. Let alone if both men would be interested in a threesome.

It was just such a decadent, delectable notion that it was damn near impossible to shove it under the rug and pretend she’d never considered getting it on with two men at the same time.

So she changed the topic entirely. Safer that way. “Hey, I’ve got to wrap up now and finish breakfast so I can get to the library.”

“I demand you keep us up-to-date on these latest developments,” Scarlet told her. “I’m currently living vicariously through you both, and the juicier the details the better!”

“So no luck catching up with your Wolf of Wall Street, Mr. Michael Vandenberg?” Bayli asked her.

“Still successfully evading me. Though, come on, ladies,” Scarlet said. “He might be hotter than hell, but don’t get any ideas there.… I’m not looking to hook up with the man in the way you’re thinking. I’m looking to question him about millions of dollars’ worth of artwork that went missing from his estate. The family scored on the insurance policy, but the art collection was never fenced and has never hit the black market. Not one single painting. That leads me to believe someone who likely cashed in on the claim is still secretly enjoying the pieces privately on display somewhere. Such as behind locked doors within their mansion.”

“I’m shocked he’s been able to skirt you,” Bayli said. “I know how tenacious you can be.”

“Well, to tell you the truth, he hasn’t been my sole focus. I had another fraudulent case to chase and some court time on two indictments I helped to bring about. Oh, and here’s a kicker.… Vandenberg has a stepbrother who was living in the Hamptons mansion at the same time the entire collection disappeared. But he’s even harder to track down than Wolfie. So, I’m trying to hunt them both in between all my other cases.”

“Jesus, it’s no wonder you’re not getting laid,” Jewel joked. “When would you ever have the time?”

“Trust me, I am reaching the point where I will make time,” Scarlet assured them. “I’m bordering on full-on torture here.”

“So hit a club in SF,” Jewel recommended. “Find some anonymous hottie for a one-night stand and then get back to stalking your wolf and stepbrother so that you can stop obsessing over this cold case and maybe meet someone you can actually have a meaningful relationship with.”

“’Cuz that’s happened to me before.” Scarlet snickered. “Men who want a ‘meaningful relationship’ have been beating down my door my entire life, just waiting for me to answer. Not.”

“Technically, you don’t know that,” Jewel said. “You’re a workaholic—you can’t deny it any more than you can deny Bay usually has her nose stuck in a book instead of checking out the talent around her.”

“Hey,” she snapped, “I’m on this call, too! And I just had the best sex of my life—off-the-charts sex! So there!”

“Way to rub it in,” Scarlet lamented. Then added, “I’m dropping off before I need professional help for my sexual repression.”

“Bay has to run, too,” Jewel said. “So let’s chat as soon as there’s more to talk about when it comes to angsty-chef guy. Can’t wait to hear how that goes down!”

“Neither can I,” Bayli jested with a hint of lasciviousness in her tone over the double meaning

of Jewel’s goes down comment.

Bayli ended the call with her friends, devoured more of Rory’s sensational breakfast, and then put the rest in her fridge for leftovers and packed everything up after cleaning it, regardless of Denny’s instructions. The OCD in her couldn’t help it. Then she left the box with the super, who’d been awesome from the beginning about storing her deliveries when she wasn’t available to receive them. If she ever did make it big, the sweet older gentleman was at the top of her list for a huge tip.

She phoned the restaurant and connected with Denny to let him know he could pick up all the personal catering items.

Bayli then took a bus, followed by the subway, to Grand Central Station. It was a part of town that she loved, teeming with all sorts of activity. The station itself was like nothing she’d ever expected when she’d first arrived in New York. Sure, San Francisco had some underground transportation and BART, but she’d never come across a station that looked like Grand Central—enormous, packed with people and restaurants, gleaming and pulsating with energy.

Farther south was the small but immaculate former church where she worked.

Bayli’s favorite sanctuary …

* * *

“Mission accomplished?” Christian asked as he sauntered into Rory’s kitchen around noon.

Rory looked up from the perfectly cut filets mignons laid out on large metal trays that he was inspecting for this evening’s dinner crowd. It would include, among others, two movie stars, a rock star, and a famous author, along with a TV producer and a half-dozen politicians. All at separate tables.

“Well, I didn’t exactly serve her breakfast in bed,” Rory told his friend, “but I did send Denny over to cater to her.”

“Excellent.”

“This is the first time you’ve asked me to do this,” Rory casually commented.