Billionaire's Single Mom

That part made me smile and helped bring some levity to the tense situation.

"I guess I can see your point, but I was still disappointed you didn't try to contact me. I kept hoping maybe we'd run into each other by accident somewhere that wasn't really an accident." I blushed when he chuckled at the idea.

"I would have loved to have run into by accident, except I didn't know where you lived or where you were working. The only link I had to you was your cell phone, and every time I started to dial your number, I froze. I thought you didn't want to see me. It was rough because I really wanted to see you."

We were face to face now, inches apart from each other, and he moved in to kiss me. His mouth tasted just as good as I remembered it being as I melted into his embrace. When we broke apart, gasping for breath, he gazed into my eyes with his shining and said, "Please come with me to the launch party."

"As what? Your model on a job, the one-night stand you want to hook up with again, or something more?"

"As my date." He cupped my face in his strong hands and enveloped me in a kiss again, more passionate than the last. It stole my breath away, and when we broke apart all I could do was nod.

"Yes, I'll go to the party with you. Is it formal dress? I bet Margie will let me borrow something nice from wardrobe for the night."

"Don't worry about that. I'll have it taken care of."

Ethan got on his phone and made a call. "I'm sending a girl down to you. She needs a dress for a launch party at Speed Motorcycles on Friday and she needs to look like a star. Yes, I know it's only two days, but I know if anyone can do it, it's you."

After a few more minutes of talking, he hung up the line and looked at me with a mischievous grin. "Okay, you're all set. Be ready at ten a.m. I'll my driver pick you up and take you there. He'll have a dress ready for you and do the tailoring himself that day while you spend the day at the spa. By the time you get done at the hair salon, your dress will be ready and the driver will take you back for the final fitting. He insists on doing it all himself."

"Who? Who will be doing my dress?" When Ethan spoke aloud the name of the world-famous designer, I wanted to scream like a teen at a rock concert.

"Oh my God, are you serious? He's made gowns for the Emmys, the Oscars, the White House Ball, even royalty. Why would he make a dress for me in just two days’ time and do the fitting himself?"

"What can I say? You never know who likes to ride." Ethan winked at me, and I couldn't help but kiss him. My Cinderella story was getting even better, and now my prince charming was taking me to an actual ball. I couldn't wait, not just because of the glamour and the chance to be lifted up in my career, but because Ethan Colson had asked me to go as his date. He had missed me like I missed him. As much as I enjoyed acting tough and independent, I knew it was too late; I was already falling in love with him. I just hoped he loved me, too, and I vowed to find out at the launch party.

Chapter Sixteen

Ethan

I felt uncharacteristically nervous as I entered the ballroom at the hotel. I knew it was because Kayla would be there.

Everything was perfect, from the stylish decorations done in red, blue, and silver chrome, all the way to the rock and roll band playing a blend of modern day songs along with classic hits. The delectable hors d'oeuvres were being served by waitresses in trendy miniskirts and motorcycle jackets. The whole place had the all-American biker vibe I wanted, while maintaining a high level of class and sophistication.

The launch party was being lauded by the press as the social event of the season. Everyone from mega movie stars to musical legends, from rising politicians to heads of corporations wanted to be there. Many of them already owned one of my bikes, and I knew the ones who didn't would buy one after tonight. The launch of the All American would be my most profitable and successful motorcycle yet.

"Mr. Colson!" a reporter for a premier news show called at me from across the barricade security had set up. Her flash of red hair caught my attention, and I worried she might be Angela coming to ruin my evening, but thankfully, she wasn't. So, I graciously strolled up to the reporter, despite the rush of paparazzi camera flashes that temporarily blinded me.

She held her microphone out towards me and asked excitedly, "You've been heralded as a power magnate behind America's most powerful motorcycle. What do you have to say?"

"Well, I have to admit I like the title, but I don't know that I deserve it. I work hard, but so do a lot of people at Speed Motorcycles. I think the true secret to my success lies in them."

"Why did you name the bike the All American?"

"Because it's made by Americans and driven by Americans. They take them out on our highways, country roads, dirt trails, raceways, city streets, and neighborhood roads. They wash them on weekends, take them out with friends, and enjoy riding them to summer barbecues. There is nothing more all-American than that tradition, and I feel like this motorcycle design is a tribute to that."

"And, how did you come up with the company's name, Speed Motorcycles?"

I feigned not being able to hear her and pointed towards the party inside the ballroom. "No more questions for now. I'm afraid I'd better be going."

She lowered her microphone in disappointment, but looked pleased as she turned back towards her cameraman. I'd given her a good sound bite for her show that would no doubt boost their ratings and her career.

There was no way I was giving her anything more than that, especially since it might harm mine.

Turning my back on the frenzied line of paparazzi, I strolled into the party and breathed in heavily, taking in the celebratory atmosphere.

I was wearing a new tux by Dolce and Gabbana and looking damn good. The alcohol from the bar was flowing freely, and everyone was having a good time. I just couldn't see the one person I was looking for.

Slowly, I circulated through the party, shaking hands and chatting with old friends and new, ingratiating myself to the public and smiling for selfies. A lot of my old friends from college were there, and we talked about old times and current successes. Graduating from an Ivy League university, a lot of them had gone on to head Fortune 500 companies, and inviting them to the launch party was a good way to market to potential customers with the kind of funds to sponsor future design research. It was the kind of P.R. bullshit I hated, but an important part of making my company a success. Besides, I needed a way to keep myself occupied until Kayla arrived.