“Oh no, I don’t mind you here at all,” he’s quick to say.
“I’m just fascinated by your process here.”
Or my ass.
But whatever.
I don’t mind his interest.
It’s going to play in my favor in a minute here.
I put the brush on the paint roller tray with the roller and pick it up.
“I’m just going to wash this stuff out, and then I’ll be on my way.”
“Sure.
I’ll walk you down.”
Such a gentleman.
As I brush past him, I let the roller slide off the tray.
“Whoops!”
He immediately stoops to pick it up.
I bump into his hip, reaching at the same time with my right hand.
As I jostle him, I tug on the lanyard hanging out of his pocket and tuck the card in my back pocket.
“I got it,” he says, and we both straighten up, laughing.
“Thanks.”
I grab the tray to avoid locking gazes and having a moment with this guy.
Guilt floods through me.
Hopefully, he won’t get into any trouble over losing his key.
More importantly, I hope he never realizes I’m the one who took it.
I hustle off to the women’s restroom and clean my brush, roller, and tray.
When I return, Jack has folded my drop cloth into a neat pile and put away the step stool I borrowed from the closet.
He turns to look at me and draws a breath.
Shit.
He’s going to ask me out.
I stoop to pick up the polyurethane can and set it on top of the paint tray.
He’s hot, but I’m not interested.
More importantly, I can’t get involved with him now that I stole his keycard.
It would put him in danger of losing his job-or worse.
I’m saved by his security radio going off.
“Jack?”
He pulls out the walkie talkie and hits a button.
“Go ahead.”
“Is that artist still up there?”
He and I look at each other in surprise.
He holds my gaze as he speaks into the mouthpiece.
“Yeah, I’m with her now.
What’s up?”
“There’s a guy down here who says he’s her ride.”
My ride.
Billy?
What the fuck?
I snicker internally at the idea of Billionaire Billy acting as my taxi.
At least his arrival made for a perfect interruption.
I smile brightly.
“That’s my…boyfriend.”
That will stop him.
The light and hope drain from his expression.
“Oh, okay.”
“You don’t have to walk me down if you don’t want.”
“Nah, I will.
Let me carry this stuff for you.”
He takes the paint tray from my hands and puts the drop cloth over the top.
A true gentleman.
Even when he’s been dissed.
The elevator ride is thankfully short, and I step out, taking my things from his hands.
Billy stands in front of the reception desk in the darkened foyer, his brows down, and a scowl on his mouth.
As if I’d asked for a ride and was late or something.
The guy is an arrogant asshole.
“Thanks, Jack.”
I turn to walk backward as he steps out of the elevator, eyeing Billy.
Another rush of guilt runs over me, and I take two quick steps back and give him a hug.
“You’re a cool guy,” I tell him.
He looks a little dazed but smiles.
I swear to God I hear Billy growl.
Like, a literal animal growl.
“Bye, guys!”
I call out, waving to both Jack and the other security guard as I bop on past Billy, ignoring him completely.
I hear another growl just behind me.
I don’t stop or turn around, I just walk straight down the sidewalk.
I should just keep ignoring him and walk myself to the subway.
Would he stop me?
Why is he even here?
I said, no, thanks.
But it would be too rude to just walk away.
My conscience won’t let me.
I stop and whirl, surprised to find Billy right behind me.
He snatches the paint things from my hands, his scowl firmly on lock.
“Why are you here?”
I demand.
He tips his head to the side.
“Get in the car.”
“Why should I?”
“Because I don’t want you walking alone at night.”
I don’t want to like that statement.
I hate that warmth crawls from the soles of my feet right up to my chest.
Dang.
It sounds like something my dad would say to my mom.
Sweet.
Unnecessary, but sweet.
But that can’t be right.
Billy White is anything but sweet.
Now he’s the one ignoring me, carrying my paint supplies to his car.
He’s illegally parked right in front of the building.
This guy thinks laws don’t apply to him.
But I guess there’s no parking ticket he couldn’t afford.
It’s hard to imagine having the kind of wealth he has.
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