“I actually don't,” Wyatt admitted. Golf had been his father's game. Wyatt much preferred swimming and surfing, and he'd never had the time to get good at tennis. “But, tell me about them.”
“You don't play golf?” She frowned slightly but then smiled. “I'd love to teach you. I'm a very patient teacher. I can show you moves that will blow your mind. I'm really good at handling balls.”
Wyatt sighed internally. Sex wasn't a selling point for him either. Especially not so blatantly. He wondered if this had worked on other men because it certainly wasn't working for him. Lorna seemed to be oblivious to his discomfort.
“I'm not interested in your 'ball handling,'” he said, pointedly. “It's really unnecessary. I just want to have a normal conversation.”
Lorna giggled. “Of course you do. I just want to make sure you know what I'm offering. It's more than Cassie can offer, I assure you.”
She bit her lower lip and looked down at her ample bosom, shaking her shoulders slightly to show off.
“Tell me more about tennis,” he said, trying to get her back on a topic. “Do you play recreationally or on a league?”
“I happily play doubles,” she replied with a wink. “If you know what I mean.”
Wyatt sighed and felt like banging his head against the table.
This was going to be a very long dinner.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Wyatt
Fifty-seven minutes later, Wyatt was beyond relieved that dinner was over. They'd had their meal. They'd had dessert. They were done.
He'd started counting the number of times Lorna made an inappropriate sexual comment but stopped counting after thirty-seven. He told her several times that he wasn't interested, but she ignored him.
Lorna was not kind to Cassie. The insults were never blatant, but there. “I bet Cassie doesn't do this” or “Cassie is too busy to do that” and even “you can do so much better” came out multiple times during the conversation.
It only made Lorna look spiteful. The woman was beautiful with her trim body, large breasts, and shiny hair, but her soul did not match the outside. She was shallow and cruel. She was willing to throw Cassie under the bus for a chance at a billionaire's heart.
He sighed with relief as soon as the check came.
“Thank you for this date,” Wyatt said, setting the check down and standing up. “And thank you for your kind donation.”
It was time to escape. He turned and could see the light through the door. Freedom.
“You don't want to stay and talk some more?” Lorna asked, painting a sad pout onto her face.
“I'm afraid I have other plans,” he replied diplomatically.
She pouted, but then stood up. “At least walk me to the valet.” She blinked up at him through long fake eyelashes.
He looked to the door. It was only a few feet away. He'd survived this long. This wouldn't be that much more.
She took his arm, pressing her body into him and gazing up adoringly. He tried to pull away, but she clung to him like a burr.
He walked quickly, sensing freedom as soon as he could reach the sunlight.
He held open the door for Lorna, they stepped out, and he was free.
Only, he wasn't. As soon as they were clear of the door, Lorna jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his lips.
He spluttered and pushed her off, angry that she would do such a thing.
And then he saw the photographers. The lights were flashing, and the cameras were rolling. Lorna grinned up at him, her lipstick smudged on her self-satisfied smile.
Anger flared up white and hot. He couldn't see straight.