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Chapter One
Inhale, exhale.
“You can do this,” Roberta “Bobby” Granger muttered as she gave her reflection aMean Lookin the mirror. People who worked for her always told Bobby her Mean Looks were very effective, that they were so scary it forced everyone to do what she wanted. Hopefully, her Mean Look would also work on her stubborn heart.
The sudden loud banging on the door made Bobby jump. “Jeez, Bobby, are you doing Number 2 or what?”
No. She was not doing Number 2. What she was doing was Number Zero, which meant she wasthisclose to drowning herself in the toilet bowl until she choked and died. That was a lot better than what – who – waited for her outside.
“Bobby!”
She took another deep breath. “You can do this, Bobby. You’re a strong woman. You can’t be affected.You don’t love him anymore.” And today was the most important day to prove it.
F looked at her oddly as she emerged from the powder room. “Are you okay?”
F wasn’t his real name, but it was how her boss wanted to be called. According to society gossip, F stood for three things: French, Fashion, and “Fuck You”, which the sixty-something self-made millionaire liked to say to every lazy-ass individual he happened to meet.
“Bobby?”
No, of course she was not freaking okay. She had just found out that her ex-boyfriend was in America when all this time, she thought an entire ocean still stood between them. How the hell could she be okay? She needed that much space from him to survive. And now, that space was gone.
But out loud all she said was, “I’m really fine. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” She had her pride, after all.
“Truthfully, Bobby, between Nessa and me, it wouldn’t be too hard to pick the bikers for the opening act before the race.”
Today was the last day of auditions for bikers to make up their next fundraiser’s opening act, and Bobby’s conscience wouldn’t allow her to bail at the last minute, knowing Nessa and F’s weakness for sexy men in leather. “I can’t trust the two of you to do this right. You’d probably end up picking the hottest-looking bikers and never mind if the only kind of bike they can ride are those with training wheels.”
F harrumphed. “You wound me.” Her boss started walking, leaving Bobby no choice but to reluctantly fall into step next to him. Each step made it more difficult for her to breathe. She started to wonder ifhewould feel the same at the thought of meeting her again, after all this time, but pushed the thought away a moment later.
Just because they were now both on the same continent didn’t mean he was back in her life again.
He wasn’t.
He couldn’t ever be again.
Before exiting the dugout, F’s steps halted and when she looked at him questioningly, he said in a more sober tone, “I’m serious, Bobby. I thought you knew since the news came out last night—-”
She explained tonelessly, “I was asleep when the news broke out. And by the time I realized...he was here, I just couldn’t make myself...” Bobby inhaled deeply. “I just don’t want him to think I’m still affected.”
Not wanting to talk anymore about The Person Who Didn’t Deserve to be Named, Bobby took the first step out of the dugout. Harsh afternoon sunlight immediately blazed down on her, and she shielded her gaze as if the brightness was hurting her eyes. In truth, however, she just wanted a moment to compose herself – a moment to school her expression so that every darn reporter zealously waiting for her to react would havenothingto gossip about.
Because that was how she felt.
Howhehad left her feeling.
Nothing.
When F reached her side, they began walking together, both of them ignoring the paps in silent agreement. It wasn’t like they hadn’t done this before. F was one of the few openly gay millionaires in the world, and just a few months ago, it had been F targeted by the press when word broke out that his long-term partner had embezzled money from him. That time, it had been Bobby who helped him pick up the pieces. Now, F considered it his turn to return the favor.
Dozens of camera bulbs were furiously flashing, their lenses zoomed in, all of the reporters desperate to catch a possible glimpse of the philanthropic heiress’ reaction. Bobby Granger was still an enigma to them. She was so unfashionable, almost fat, and very dull, with not a scandal attached to her name. How in the world had she made someone like Leandro Christopoulos fall in love with her? Could it be true that all this time the Greek billionaire had even pined for her? And how was it that she had managed to do it again, capturing the heart of yet another beautiful Greek god?
Life was so very unfair, the more malicious members of the lot thought, and so they glared as Bobby Granger walked past them at a leisurely pace.
“They hate you,” F whispered to her cheerfully as they joined the rest of the staff at the center of the circuit. He was of the mind that any publicity wasgoodpublicity. Although he hurt for Bobby, his mind was already trying to come up with ways on how to turn this sudden furor of the media over Bobby to the foundation’s advantage.
“I know,” she whispered back in the same tone even though she really wasn’t cheerful. Everyone was still either staring or glaring at her, and when she felt beads of sweat starting to drip down her forehead, Bobby quickly wiped them away. She didn’t want to give the paps any chance to take a photo and make her sweat look like tears running down her face.
Bobby focused her attention on the small group of bikers preparing for their “audition”. All of them were tall and powerfully built, with their helmets on and wearing leather jackets and pants. In other words, they were out to impress and be the one biker to perform the opening act for their next fundraiser.
