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THE END.
* * *
The followingpages contain a sneak peek at the sixth book in the series:Saved by the Billionaire. Available on Amazon CLICK HERE.
SNEAK PEEK: Saved by the Billionaire
Natalie
In line at the coffee shop, no one recognized me. No one gave me dirty looks or spit on me.
Finally a moment of anonymity, a moment of peace.
The clientele at this Peet’s was more businessmen and fewer neurotic housewives than the one I’d been frequenting near home. The fireman at the counter was rattling off order after order at the poor barista.
“But Lucy, I don’t know if I have time for that… But I can’t… Okay, you win.” The whiny male voice came from behind me.
I glanced back at the lengthening line, held up by the guy ordering for a dozen. Mr. Whiny on the phone to Lucy was the short, bald guy directly behind me.
The broad-shouldered man ahead of me moved up to the counter after Mr. Infinite-list finished reading his written orders. Ninety-seven dollars and change was a lot of coffee.
I closed my eyes and listened to Broad Shoulders order. I couldn't see his face, but the deep, seductive voice with a hint of gravel predicted a chiseled jawline and stubble——a high-octane man, a real man, unlike the whiny wimp jabbering on his cell phone behind me.
The sound of Broad Shoulders’ voice had me visualizing a deep, dark chocolate pudding——something I could lick all day long.
He ordered a medium caffè mocha, my drink of choice as well.
“Ryan,” he said when the barista asked his name.
Ryan, a very lick-worthy name.
I gulped, realizing how inappropriate my daydreams had become just four months after my divorce. I knew it was four months because the final decree had arrived yesterday. I was finally free of Damien Winterbourne.
When I opened my eyes, Broad Shoulders had paid and moved aside, making room for me to order. I'd been right about him being a high-octane man. He had the deep blue eyes, the chiseled jawline——everything except the stubble, but that could be cured quickly. Tall and imposing, he tugged at his collar, apparently ill at ease in his expensive suit and tie.
“Miss?” the barista said, pulling me back to reality.
I advanced to the counter. “I’ll have the same.”
She rang me up and smiled. “And your name, miss?”
I slid my AmEx card into the reader. “Natalie.”
The card machine beeped twice, and the little screen readdeclined.
The barista shot me a questioning glance. “Try it again. Sometimes it acts up.”
I removed the card and shoved it back in.
The reader complained loudly again.
“Perhaps another card?” the girl behind the counter offered with a sigh.
I located my Visa card and tried that with the same embarrassing result. The line behind me was restless, and the muttering increased. Nothing nice, no doubt.
“Get a clue, lady,” was the only thing I could pick out of the mumbling.
This is not my day.
