Tempting the Billionaire (Love in the Balance 1)

Great. Now she’d offended him. “Oh, I didn’t mean—”

“Relax, Crickitt, I know you didn’t.” He watched her for a beat, lips twitching, before he popped open his briefcase and extracted a pile of paperwork.

They lapsed into comfortable silence, Crickitt watching out of the tinted windows as Shane worked. Every once in a while he’d make a deep sound in his throat. It usually paired with him pinching his eyebrows together. Then he’d make a few scratches on the paper in front of him and continue to read, his thumb and finger pressed on either side of his bottom lip.

Watching him made the ride worthwhile. How often could she stare at him without worrying a co-worker might catch her ogling? Not often enough. He lifted his head and she flicked her eyes away.

Busted.

Fidgeting with the strap on her bag, she watched the buildings and cars pass by her window.

“You’re making me feel self-conscious,” he said. “Am I doing something strange?”

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“Weren’t you just looking at me?”

She shook her head. “No, not at all.”

“You’d tell me if I had any weird habits, right?”

“Uh…”

The limo came to a stop, and Shane ducked his head to look out the window. “We’re here.”

After a small-town-diner-worthy breakfast and more coffee, Shane reviewed the details for their first meeting. “We don’t have to go over the file here if it’s too distracting. We can get a coffee to go, read it in the car if you like.”

“Can’t,” she said.

“You can’t what, read?” he joked.

“Not in the car,” she said.

“Ah. Well, in that case, let’s hang out and make the waitress’s day.”

At first she thought he was being facetious. “Hanging out” would clog up the young girl’s table. She’d miss tips from new customers. Crickitt opened her mouth to tell him so, when the waitress stopped to refill their coffee mugs.

“Excuse me, Debbie, is it?” Shane asked her.

“Yes,” Debbie said, pointing at her name tag.

Shane made small talk, asking Debbie about her job, how long she’d worked there, if she liked it. Crickitt watched as the young waitress succumbed to his charm. By the time Debbie had divulged that her full-time job made it harder to be a good mom to her three-year-old, Crickitt could see he’d won her over. Debbie couldn’t be more than twenty, twenty-one, tops. And while Crickitt guessed single motherhood was difficult at any age, she couldn’t imagine going it alone that young.

“Bear with me.” Shane flashed Debbie a heart-melting smile. “This is a personal question, but I’m an investor and I’d love an honest answer.”

“All right.” Debbie gave him a small smile that suggested if her heart wasn’t melting, it was at least warming. She rested her free hand on her hip, elevating the coffeepot in the other. “Shoot.”

“Do you rent or own?”

Debbie rolled her eyes. “Own? I wish. I don’t have the credit, or the cash, to buy a house. I rent an apartment.”

“And your rent per month is…?”

“Six seventy-five.”

“Nice place?” Shane asked.

“Not really,” Debbie said with a humorless laugh.

“Roommates?”

Her smile vanished. “Not anymore,” she bit out.

Crickitt wondered if her former “roommate” was her son’s father. There was definite determination in the way she shot out her chin. “It’s just me and my son,” Debbie said with an assertive nod.

“I appreciate it, Debbie,” Shane said after mentioning he’d enjoyed breakfast. “Thank you for the coffee and for your honesty. You’ve helped me a great deal with my next endeavor.”

Debbie left their table and Crickitt waited for Shane to explain. He didn’t, only tapped the open file in front of her. “Come on, you’ve got another forty-five minutes to bone up.” Then he leaned back in the booth and sipped his coffee as if he hadn’t just had an odd and slightly invasive conversation with a total stranger.

When the check came a half hour later, she was surprised to see Shane pull out cash.

“Shouldn’t you charge that and write it off?” she asked, having been accustomed to doing so for her own business.

“Not today.” His mouth lifted mischievously as he counted out ten one-hundred-dollar bills and one twenty. He folded them into the black book on the table and slid it to the edge.