“Okay. Tell me.”
“The Press calls him ‘The Prince’. He is the son of a super wealthy oil prospector and is set to inherit the billions that is DS Oil and Gas, as well as a bunch of other little companies his father invested in. He tries to keep a low profile, but he is considered a bit of a playboy. There is always a different model on his arm for every society function. Not a whole lot is known about him, other than his good looks, boyish charm, and that he is practically made of money. Oh, and that he loves hamburgers.”
“Hamburgers, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.”
I stared down at the magazine in my hands. The photo was obviously taken from a distance, but it captured our kiss. I felt the ache in my chest threatening to consume me, but I couldn’t look away from the photograph. I didn’t see a man with wealth. I only saw Jack. I traced my finger along the curve of his cheek, remembering the warmth of his skin.
“Rumor is his dad is sick. He wasn’t supposed to take over the company until after his 31st birthday, but as you probably know, he is barely 29 and everything is going into motion to make him CEO.”
“He didn’t mention his dad. He said this was his last vacation before having to take over,” I said quietly, my eyes glued to his photograph.
“Well, yeah. It is kind of a big deal, Emma. He has his work cut out for him. This transition wasn’t supposed to take place for almost another 2 years and things are kind of a mess,” Ashley said as she veered around another car. She launched into business degree mode, the passion in her life other than tabloids and reality TV. The words sounded English, but I gave up trying to understand after the word “fiscal”. She had plenty to say on the subject, and I let her jabber on how difficult this particular transition was going to be while I stared at the glossy magazine pages.
“Whoa! I think somebody is at your apartment. You want to come stay at my place? Talk some more?” Ashley slowed to a stop in front of my building. Three black SUVs with tinted windows stood collecting snow in the visitor parking. I bit my lip and played with the ripped pocket on my coat. I didn’t want another run in with the press like at the airport, but I didn’t see much of a choice.
“I don’t have anything but my suitcase full of bathing suits,” I said slowly as a gust of wind flung snow at the windshield. “I’ll be fine. Besides, my landlord loves calling the cops. If she gets the chance to throw somebody out, it’ll make her week. Thanks for the ride though,” I said, zipping my jacket up under my chin like a suit of armor.
“Okay, but if you need anything, you call. Hey, Emma,...” Ashley eyed the SUVs and then turned and gave me a hug. “Be careful okay? I know I sound all excited that you married a billionaire, but he is known as a playboy. He is responsible for a lot of broken hearts. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Aw, Ashley. Thanks. I think I’ll be okay though. This was only supposed to be a vacation fling anyway. I’m sure it will all blow over in a couple of days.” I gave her an extra squeeze and then pulled the collar of my jacket up to brave the cold.
“Lunch tomorrow?” Ashley asked as I prepared myself to open the door into the freezing storm.
“I have work, but what about drinks after? I’ll tell you all about my trip.”
Ashley beamed. “It’s a date.”
I fought to open the car door, the snow and ice blowing angrily around the heat of the car. I grabbed my bag and lugged it up the front steps, tucking my head like a turtle into the collar of my coat. The keys were freezing in my bare hands, but I opened the door and stepped inside, turning to wave at Ashley. No reporters yet at least.
Ashley waved back and slowly pulled out of the lot and off towards her house once she saw the front door unlock. A huge man in a black suit stood at the entrance to the hallway, but he made no move to stop me or take my picture, so I ignored him. The hall to my door seemed lonelier than usual, but my hands were too cold for me to care. I fumbled with the keys again and pushed open the door to my apartment, ready for a hot shower and some food.
Chapter 10
“You made good time,” an attractive woman said as I walked in the door. She stood gracefully, a fitted pinstripe suit accenting her tall frame. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tight bun, her stylish square glasses accentuating her jaw line. The door swung on its hinges behind me as I forgot to close it. The suitcase clattered to the floor and I stood there facing at the official looking woman in my living room.