The Billionaire's Bridal Bid Read Free Page A

great-aunt Doris Ann, Claire had welcomed getting up at four to make the buttermilk chocolate doughnuts Cutie Pies was known for.
    After last night’s bidding war between the Ballard brothers, everyone in town would be wondering whatwas so special about Claire Caldiera that a date with her would bring to a head the lifelong rivalry between Vic and Matt. Some of those inquiring minds would probably stop by the diner in hopes of catching a replay of last night’s display. She might as well sell them some doughnuts.
    A classic 1950s diner, Cutie Pies sat on Main Street just opposite Luna, the upscale restaurant that had opened up a few years ago. Booths lined the front of the diner, next to the windows looking out onto street. Red Formica tables were scattered throughout, but the real old-timers sat on the leather-topped stools at the bar, where they were closest to the fresh-brewed coffee and they got their eggs mere seconds after they left the griddle. The kitchen in back, where the mixer and ovens were, had a pass-through window, giving Claire a clear view of the front of the diner as she baked.
    She’d tuned her radio into the oldies station when she’d first arrived at the diner. Lights from the occasionally passing car flickered through the dining room, but otherwise, she might have been alone in the world. Scraping down the sides of the mixer and humming along to The Shirelles’s “Mama Said,” she could pretend her life hadn’t gone all to hell in the past twenty-four hours.
    In fact, she’d nearly convinced herself that what happened the previous night at the fundraiser wasn’t that big a deal. It was, after all, only one date. A single evening. With a man she hated.
    No, no. That was too severe. She didn’t hate him.
    She just really, really, really didn’t want to see him again. Was there a word for that?
    He was the first man she’d ever trusted with her fragile heart and he’d broken it. He epitomized every baddecision she’d made in her life. Every mistake. Every wrong turn. Every sacrifice. Seeing him just reminded her of a thousand paths she hadn’t taken. And honestly, that was just the last thing she needed right now.
    She poked listlessly at the doughnut batter with her spatula. She’d been feeling so restless lately. So hemmed in by her choices and her responsibilities. She dipped her finger into the batter and scooped up a glob. Sucking it off her finger, she considered her options.
    Option One: Grit her teeth and bear it.
    Option Two: Hire a professional hit man to take out Matt Ballard.
    Option Three: Go home now, toss a bag of essentials into her aging Toyota along with her anemic pothos ivy, Fred, and leave Palo Verde again. Maybe this time forever.
    Sadly, Option Three was looking pretty darn appealing.
    It would be an escape from the malaise that had settled over her during the past few months. More to the point, it was a way to avoid this date. Which was kind of ironic, because the bachelorette auction thing was supposed to solve the problem of how restless she’d been feeling. It wasn’t supposed to create more problems.
    She stuck a different finger into the batter and fished out another bit of batter. It tasted fine. Just…fine. Okay. Bland, bland, bland.
    For nearly thirty years, Cutie Pies had been serving the same chocolate doughnuts. They were so…predictable. Feeling twitchy with rebellious impulses, she crossed to the supply pantry, pulled out a jar of cayenne pepper.
    The regulars would pitch a fit, come doughnut time,but it beat the hell out of making a run for it. Which was what she wanted to do.
    Running was in her blood. She knew that. Her mother, her father and her sister—they’d all been runners. When life got tough or things got complicated, they just picked up and left. Her father had started the tradition, walking out on his girlfriend and daughters just five days after Claire’s younger sister, Courtney, was born. Their mother had followed suit a few years