Read Online The Bad Boy Billionaire: What a Girl Wants by Maya Rodale - Free Book Online
Authors: Maya Rodale
Tags: Fiction, Contemporary Romance
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sparkling.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Venturing out into the world. See what survived Hurricane Geoffrey and if we can get any news.”
I smiled. “You just want to see if you can find cell service.”
“Is that so wrong?” Duke asked. He grinned and gave me puppy dog eyes that made it impossible to be annoyed with him.
“What’s a few flights of stairs?” I mused, thinking about the long walk down and back up to his penthouse apartment. I was used to a fourth floor walkup. At least we weren’t stranded on, say, the 50th floor.
“That’s my girl,” Duke said with a grin. “Let’s get dressed and go.”
My jeans had dried from my mad dash through the rain and fully clothed shower the other night. Under any other circumstances I would have thrown them away—after what happened I didn’t want to wear them again. But my desire to get out and see the city was stronger. I paired the jeans with my black patent ballet flats and one of Duke’s Project-TK T-Shirts and his Stanford sweatshirt that I had decided belonged to me now.
Then we ventured out, down numerous flights of stairs in utter darkness, with only the light of a candle to guide us. Once out on the street, we joined a crowd of people who had come out to see how the city had fared in the storm.
“It doesn’t look like the zombie apocalypse I was expecting,” Duke said as we strolled up the street. He sounded disappointed.
“Expecting, or hoping for?” I quipped. He just squeezed my hand.
The city was coming back to life. Wet green leaves had fallen from the trees and were plastered all over the sidewalk and streets. A few tree branches had fallen, but it seemed most of the trees in our neighborhood had been unscathed. It was so strange to see the streets devoid of traffic—and the cars that remained seemed to find it a challenge to negotiate intersections without working stoplights. Most of the stores and restaurants were still closed. The bodegas were doing a brisk business and one bar had actually opened, lit only by candle light, but packed with people.
“Let’s get a drink,” Duke suggested.
“It’s not even noon!” I protested.
“This is a special occasion,” Duke said. “And we’re not working today. Besides, I bet the bartender is full of information. Duke grabbed my hand and led me into the little dive.
A bunch of other people had the same idea—the bar was fairly crowded, considering that it was a weekday morning. But Duke was right—this was a special occasion. It’s not every day that the entire city had a day off, or that this town functioned without electricity. There was a lovely sense of camaraderie in the air—we had all weathered the storm together and we were all enjoying this strange moment before the city bounced back to normal.
We found two spots at the bar and squeezed in.
“What can I get you two?” The bartender was a big guy with tattooed arms and lots of piercings.
“I’ll have a beer,” Duke said. I winced, remembering the taste of beer from Sam. Then I shook my head, chasing the thoughts away. I would not let him take over my thoughts, all the time.
“A glass of white wine for me,” I said.
“That’ll be fifteen bucks,” the bartender said. “Cash only. And those drinks will be warm.”
Duke and I exchanged concerned glances, not about the temperature of the drinks, but the cash to pay for them. I dug into my handbag and with fives, ones, and assorted change, spent the last of our money on booze.
“I’m Duke,” he said, extending in his hand.
“Frank,” the bartender replied. The two guys shook hands and then started talking.
“So is power out all over the city?” Duke asked.
“I heard that everything is in working order above 39th Street. Below that, no power.”
“Electricity might be the one thing that gets me to go above 14th Street,” Duke said, referring to his aversion to Midtown.
“Be prepared to walk if you head up there,” Frank said. “The
“What did you have in mind?”
“Venturing out into the world. See what survived Hurricane Geoffrey and if we can get any news.”
I smiled. “You just want to see if you can find cell service.”
“Is that so wrong?” Duke asked. He grinned and gave me puppy dog eyes that made it impossible to be annoyed with him.
“What’s a few flights of stairs?” I mused, thinking about the long walk down and back up to his penthouse apartment. I was used to a fourth floor walkup. At least we weren’t stranded on, say, the 50th floor.
“That’s my girl,” Duke said with a grin. “Let’s get dressed and go.”
My jeans had dried from my mad dash through the rain and fully clothed shower the other night. Under any other circumstances I would have thrown them away—after what happened I didn’t want to wear them again. But my desire to get out and see the city was stronger. I paired the jeans with my black patent ballet flats and one of Duke’s Project-TK T-Shirts and his Stanford sweatshirt that I had decided belonged to me now.
Then we ventured out, down numerous flights of stairs in utter darkness, with only the light of a candle to guide us. Once out on the street, we joined a crowd of people who had come out to see how the city had fared in the storm.
“It doesn’t look like the zombie apocalypse I was expecting,” Duke said as we strolled up the street. He sounded disappointed.
“Expecting, or hoping for?” I quipped. He just squeezed my hand.
The city was coming back to life. Wet green leaves had fallen from the trees and were plastered all over the sidewalk and streets. A few tree branches had fallen, but it seemed most of the trees in our neighborhood had been unscathed. It was so strange to see the streets devoid of traffic—and the cars that remained seemed to find it a challenge to negotiate intersections without working stoplights. Most of the stores and restaurants were still closed. The bodegas were doing a brisk business and one bar had actually opened, lit only by candle light, but packed with people.
“Let’s get a drink,” Duke suggested.
“It’s not even noon!” I protested.
“This is a special occasion,” Duke said. “And we’re not working today. Besides, I bet the bartender is full of information. Duke grabbed my hand and led me into the little dive.
A bunch of other people had the same idea—the bar was fairly crowded, considering that it was a weekday morning. But Duke was right—this was a special occasion. It’s not every day that the entire city had a day off, or that this town functioned without electricity. There was a lovely sense of camaraderie in the air—we had all weathered the storm together and we were all enjoying this strange moment before the city bounced back to normal.
We found two spots at the bar and squeezed in.
“What can I get you two?” The bartender was a big guy with tattooed arms and lots of piercings.
“I’ll have a beer,” Duke said. I winced, remembering the taste of beer from Sam. Then I shook my head, chasing the thoughts away. I would not let him take over my thoughts, all the time.
“A glass of white wine for me,” I said.
“That’ll be fifteen bucks,” the bartender said. “Cash only. And those drinks will be warm.”
Duke and I exchanged concerned glances, not about the temperature of the drinks, but the cash to pay for them. I dug into my handbag and with fives, ones, and assorted change, spent the last of our money on booze.
“I’m Duke,” he said, extending in his hand.
“Frank,” the bartender replied. The two guys shook hands and then started talking.
“So is power out all over the city?” Duke asked.
“I heard that everything is in working order above 39th Street. Below that, no power.”
“Electricity might be the one thing that gets me to go above 14th Street,” Duke said, referring to his aversion to Midtown.
“Be prepared to walk if you head up there,” Frank said. “The
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