Blackmailed by the Billionaire Brewer
Page 9“Did you even want to talk?”
“What do you mean?”
He tapped his fork annoyingly against the edge of a plate. “You seemed more interested in my tattoos than anything else.”
She was tempted to ask him now why he had chosen the bold swirling ink that seemed to be inspired by the sea. The vivid strokes of color were still imprinted on her mind from the night they had spent together in spite of her inebriation. She decided against asking. “They intrigued me, especially that cute little turtle.”
“Past tense?”
“Everything that was nice and fun and honest seems past tense right now.”
“I guess that has to be my fault? Or is it yours?”
She shrugged. “Must be karma. Or God. Or a Hobbit, who the hell knows.”
“I’m the same as I was a week ago, Piper. We just changed towns, that’s all.”
She shook her head vehemently. “No, no you’re not.”
“Oh, I do believe you.” She put her hand over the top of her glass to stop him from refilling it with sangria. “I just never imagined you’d turn out to be such an accomplished opportunist scumbag. Admitting to being an itinerant drifter is one thing, but blackmail and stealing panties for leverage is quite another. I can see why you’ve been so successful in business, Matt. You’re selfish, ruthless, and nothing gets in the way of what you want.”
His jaw dropped for a second and his smile faltered. “But you still love me, right?”
Their eyes locked for longer than she was comfortable with. She’d gone too far by being so harsh, but it was too late to take it back. “Sorry, that came out a little stronger than I intended.”
He put down the sangria jug and nodded toward the hand that was still clamped over her glass. “Maybe you’re right. Things are different now that we’re back in Colorado. Or you are. Restraint wasn’t in your vocabulary a few days ago.”
It was none of his business, but she was going to put him straight. “A couple of days ago I had decided to get blind drunk a few thousand miles away from my hometown and have a one-night stand with a complete stranger. It was a really stupid, immature thing to do, but I wasn’t thinking clearly at the time and I just wanted to lash out somehow.”
“And I was the lucky guy to get hurt?”
A stab of guilt stalled her for a moment. “Hurt? For real? That was never my intention. Besides, it was you going on about being a drifter and an opportunist, remember? Walking away from a one-night stand of consensual, no-strings lust does not equate with hurt.”
“Okay, I was offended, and upset because I wanted to see you again.”
“Looks like you got what you wanted in that case.” She needed this conversation to end and its subject matter to never resurface again. “You might as well know I behaved like I did because I’d been hurt badly. The man who said he loved me dumped me for a teenage cocktail waitress on Christmas Eve. It’s not a great excuse, but it’s the truth, and for what it’s worth, I’m not particularly proud of myself.”
“Something like that.” His words pleased her. Stanley was a jerk and not just for dumping her like he had. “So you’ll understand why dating, relationships, all that kind of thing is totally off the menu for me right now. Probably for good.”
“But you still have needs, hence Sanibel. I was a kind of sexy tapas, just a taste of what could be something much more substantial.”
“Clever analogy.” She pushed away her glass and looked him in the eye. They were such a dark brown they were almost black, like molasses. “But I’m too bruised and bitter to do anybody any good right now, however genuine they are, however pleasant or attractive they may appear.”
“Is that a back handed compliment?”
She sighed and looked out of the window at the front of the bar. Snow was beginning to fall. “Matt, I’m only here because if I don’t go along with your crazy plan, you’ll make sure I never get paid temp work in Passion Creek again, ruin my reputation, and harm my business in the process, so let’s not pretend otherwise. And, as you’ve pointed out, the beer campaign could be good for my own business, too, so I might not have to work for that rotten agency again. But we have to keep this strictly business from now on.”
He frowned, following the direction of her gaze. “Okay, I’ll keep it strictly business for as long as you do.”
“Which will be until the bitter end at your PCB No. 68 official launch. I still need a firm date for that.”
“Agreed, and you’ll know as soon as I do about the launch date. I’ll get that list of publicity-related appointments and social engagements emailed to you in the next few hours. But to give you a head start, we have a gallery opening to attend in a few days’ time, swiftly followed by an associate’s wedding. Dress code is ultra-expensive. It’s being billed as the Passion Creek wedding of the year.”
“So far.” Piper was impressed at how she’d managed to get those two words to drip with sarcasm.
“I’m sure I have something suitable in my closet.”
“No, here’s something to tide you over until I can get a company credit card processed for you.” He handed over a roll of bills and a business card. “Should cover some nice shoes and stuff. This season’s, please. And my card has all my contact details in case you need to check anything with me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my own shoes.”
He pressed his lips together in a frown. “Strictly business, remember? That’s what you wanted, so that’s what you’ll get. Now I’m not expecting you to turn up at the brewery’s finance department anymore and I’m giving you a couple of days, paid, to make arrangements to cover your own business affairs, which is pretty good of me. So don’t argue with the boss, please, just go out and buy a more appropriate wardrobe.”
Piper bit her tongue and forced a brittle smile.
Jerk.
Chapter Four
Piper ground her teeth as she waited for her friend Melanie to arrive at the Passion Creek Beanery coffee house that afternoon. Had Matt DeLeo meant to be so patronizing by telling her to buy new clothes that morning?