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“Are you all right?” I ask. There’s a tremble in her hand.
“Yeah,” she replies unconvincingly. Then she starts to shuffle her feet, looking around at the busy room.
“I have to finish my shift, but if you plan on sticking around for a while…” she says as her eyes cascade toward the bar.
A part of me wants to consider taking the date. I could escort her upstairs to my private room, get to know her a little better, maybe prove to her that I’m not, in fact, too old, too rich, or too boring. But something holds me back. That old voice in my head that sees her as a potential for heartbreak more than anything else.
So I touch her gently on the arm. “Actually, Daisy. Do you mind if I get a rain check on that date?”
Her mouth forms a small o as she turns to gaze up at me. “Of course.”
“I look forward to it,” I reply with a smirk, although I have no intention of cashing in on that rain check. “Have a lovely evening, Daisy.”
“Um…good night, Ronan.”
With that, I walk toward the exit alone and find my driver out front waiting for me. As I climb into the back seat, I realize that I never found out what exactly Daisy wagered when she lost that bet. But I make it a point to ask her another time. The last thing I want to be is predictable.
RULE #3: THOSE WHO LIVE IN RUN-DOWN VANS SHOULDN’T JUDGE OTHERS
Daisy
My breath comes out in foggy puffs as I scroll through various apps on my phone. There are three layers of socks on my feet, but no matter how much I rub them together, they still have a chill that goes down to the bone. My tiny little space heater does a nice job of heating up the van, but it smells like burnt hair and I’m too scared to sleep with it on, so I’m curled up under three blankets instead. I wish I could sleep, but I can’t shake the nip in the air.
Plus, I’m too busy reliving my strange encounter with Ronan Kade. I’ve barely spoken ten whole words to the man in the past three months, even though I see him nearly every night.
Then, tonight, he randomly bids a hundred grand on a date with me…that he doesn’t cash in on.
Why?
I mean, maybe he did actually want a rain check? Maybe he wasn’t in the mood or wasn’t feeling well. So then why bid at all? None of it makes sense. Even Geo was thrown off by Ronan’s behavior.
In some weird way, I feel like I’ve earned some bragging rights from this. For just a few minutes up on that stage, I had the attention of the richest man in Briar Point. And yes, I looked him up online. He’s worth one-point-five billion dollars.
He’s not just rich—he’sfilthyrich.
And he bid on me in an auction. I probably shouldn’t feel special. I’ve watched him do the same with dozens of girls, but it still felt nice.
I mean…I didn’t really want the date anyway. If Ronan Kade was about thirty years younger, I would have been all over it. I’ve seen pics of him in his twenties. He was seriously gorgeous, but no matter how well he’s aged, it doesn’t change the fact that there are three and a half decades between us. He’s still handsome…but I just can’t seem to convince my sex drive to see him as anything other than a dashing silver fox.
Suddenly, I find myself laughing out loud like a crazy person. Because here I am…sleeping in my van and judging a billion-dollar man for not being young enough for me.
Daisy…you’re an idiot.
If I were smart, I would have thrown myself at that man. I had the perfect opportunity to do just that, but I blew it.
A smart girl would have used tonight to get close to him. Perhaps, even slept with him to get the answers I want. I mean…sleeping with Ronan Kade is hardly a sacrifice. I’m sure plenty of women do it for free.
But I’m not all that smart, or sexy, or cunning.
The truth of the matter is that I have a savings account with over a million dollars in it, issued to me nine years ago by a man named Ronan Kade, who before three months ago, I had never met.
So yeah, I might be willing to trade sex for that information if it came down to it.
All I know is that when my mother passed away three years ago, there was a folder in her files with some lengthy paperwork and a high-yield savings account in a bank in Briar Point, California, listing me as the beneficiary.
My mother, as amazing as she was, failed to tell me the reason this complete stranger left me with enough money and compounding interest to get me through college. And I won’t touch it until I know why.
Which is why I have gone to great, slightly unhinged, lengths to figure it out—including some minor stalking, moving across the country, getting a job where I know he goes, and slowly studying him over the course of three months.
