The Bad Boy Billionaire: What a Girl Wants Read Free

with Duke’s wild behavior and their tortured relationship.
    My reading was interrupted by the arrival of a text message from Sam.
    Sam Chase: I’m in town. Need to talk. Can we meet for a drink?
    I hesitated. Sam had been weird lately—lots of confusing text messages, Facebook posts and long emails philosophizing about life choices and a man’s role in the modern world. Or something like that. I’d just been too busy to figure out what he was talking about to compose an appropriate reply. That, and I just didn’t really want to deal with it. I cared about him deeply, but I wasn’t too keen to be his therapist. Or his drinking buddy on a night like this.
    But I had loved this man deeply for a long time. We’d been high school sweethearts and I thought he would be my husband and the father of my children. It was his idea for us to break up. Though it hurt like hell for a while, I was now glad. My life was so much more amazing because of it.
    So even though he was acting weird, I had loved him and he seemed to be in a rough patch. We could still be friends, right?
    Besides, it’s not like I would get much writing done anyway.
    Another text message interrupted me, this one from Roxanna.
    Roxanna Lane: Working late. Might swing by with you know who. Don’t be there? XOXOXO!
    Well that settled that. I was going out. After one drink, I’d head over to Duke’s place. I doubted that his flight would be taking off after all and it’d be nice and romantic to ride out the storm together.
    One glance at Twitter told me this had better be a quick drink.
    @NYCGOV: Batten down the hatches! Subway is closing at midnight. Bridges and Tunnels will be closed at 10pm. #Geoffrey
    I texted Sam back.
    Jane Sparks : Let’s meet in 20 minutes and make it quick—storm’s a-coming!
    Sam Chase: I’m at that bar we met at before. Our place in the city.
    I decided a quick outfit change was in order. I looked through my closet for the perfect outfit that said “FRIEND ZONE!” I settled on boyfriend jeans, black patent ballet flats and my second favorite sweater set, a charcoal grey cashmere shell and cardigan.
    Since I would be heading over to Duke’s afterward, I quickly tossed some things into a bag: a change of undies and some toiletries along with the usual phone, wallet and keys. I grabbed my bag and trench coat and dashed out, down the four flights of stairs to the front hall and then down the very steep front stoop. From there, I headed downtown. Hopefully, I wouldn’t encounter the storm tonight.
    But I did, oh I did.

 
    Chapter Three
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    Employees Only, Hudson Street
    S AM AND I had met up here once before. It had been the night of a party celebrating Project-TK’s $150 million dollars of investment funding. I remembered it as the night things with Duke went from make believe to real.
    Sam and I didn’t have many places in the city that were “ours.” Not like we did back home anyway, where every spot in town held some memory: the high school where we met, the bleachers at the stadium where we’d made out (and a bit more); Fiorello’s, the “fancy” special occasion restaurant; Armetta’s, the pizza parlor for casual Friday night dates, the movie theater where Sam had worked as an usher one summer and the library where I had worked until I was fired.
    That was another reason I had to leave Milford. Too many places triggered too many memories and that made it impossible to move on. New York City was a blank slate where I could reinvent myself.
    When I arrived at the bar, it seemed no one took the storm warning seriously. The place was packed. I saw Sam in a red plaid shirt, hunched over the bar and nursing a pint of beer.
    “Hey there,” I said, resting my hand on his shoulder. He startled.
    “Jane. Hey.” He smiled faintly. I smiled too, hoping that it hid my shock at how bad he looked. The red plaid shirt looked and smelled like it spent the night on the floor after a pub crawl. Dark stubble covered his jaw,