Page 13 of The Business of Love Box Set 1: Books 1 - 4

VANESSA

P izza? With Rhys Daniels?

Good God.

“Pass.” I slipped out from under the weight of his arm and joined Kim at the bar.

She gave me a lopsided smile that challenged me to change my mind and take him up on his offer.

I dropped my voice so only she could hear me, speaking through clenched teeth.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not letting him whisk me out of here after he pretends to be a superhero. Stupid.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s charming. You should go with him. I saw a couple on the second level whose wedding I planned last year. I’d love to go say hi. And you can thank your Romeo over a slice of pizza.”

I grimaced.

Rhys was suddenly beside me, nudging my elbow with his own, wagging his thick dark eyebrows at me. “Come on, Vanny. What do you say? Just one slice?”

What cruel punishment was this for? Had I done something in a previous life that I was atoning for now?

“Fine. You’re buying.”

“Obviously.”

I told Kim to check her phone and that I would touch base with her in half an hour or so.

She agreed and waved us off, already turning to make her way to the stairs to find her couple.

I watched her go for a minute. The eyes of men she passed slid to her as she walked.

They looked her up and down, appreciating all her lean lines and strong muscle and tanned skin.

She was a goddess if there ever was one, and sometimes, I felt like it was a curse to have such a beautiful bestie.

But she was as gorgeous on the inside as she was on the outside, so it was difficult to hate her for being so Goddamn attractive.

“Are we going?” Rhys nudged me again.

“Yes. Lead the way.” I downed the rest of my drink for liquid courage and followed Rhys out of the bar.

He reached back, offering me his hand, and I considered rejecting it.

But this was Mr. No Name. This was the man I’d been drooling over for months without ever having seen him in person, and he had singlehandedly rescued me from the biggest pair of macho misogynists I’d run into in a while.

And there was something to be said for that.

I slid my hand into his. His palm was warm and he gently closed his fingers around my hand.

He didn’t have to push through the crowds.

They naturally parted for him. I worried that girls were judging me.

They probably assumed I was his sister or little cousin or something.

There was no way a girl like me was leaving a club with Rhys Daniels.

I kept my head down until we emerged on the sidewalk.

The night was chilly, and for the first time since I put my black velvet dress on, I was thankful for it.

The fabric was warmer than any other dress I owned.

Rhys shrugged out of his jacket, a perfectly fitted, light-charcoal blazer, and draped it over my shoulders like a cloak.

“Oh. I’m okay.”

“Sure you are.” He offered me his arm. I slid mine into the crook of his elbow and we strolled down the sidewalk, passing under flashing neon signs that practically begged customers to come to their nightclub instead of Caprizee, which had been the hot spot for some time now and was causing a strain on all the other venues.

Street performers strummed guitars on street corners to the accompaniment of one or two vocalists and someone playing a harmonica.

For some reason, the harmonica was always played by an older man with a beard.

What was the deal with that?

We only walked about four blocks down the street before we popped into a twenty-four-hour pizza joint.

The business was over twenty-five years old and had never changed locations.

It still had the original black and white check linoleum floor and polished checker plate aluminum counters.

There were signed pictures of celebrities on the walls who’d come to eat there in the late hours of the night after partaking in Nashville’s vibrant nightlife.

Most were country music stars. Others were actors or pro athletes.

My brother’s signature was on a picture on the far wall of him running a touchdown in a Seahawks game two years ago. It made me smile.

Rhys ordered a large pizza with all the fixings. He glanced at me before handing over a wad of cash to the man behind the counter. “You good with that? Jalapenos, peppers, onions, the works?”

I nodded.

He paid and grabbed us drink cups, and we went over to the soda dispenser. Lucky for me, they had Mountain Dew. I went to place my cup under it and froze.

If Rhys ever had any inkling that I was Nessa Night from the radio show, drinking Mountain Dew like it was water might be the final thing that tipped him off.

Very begrudgingly, I moved my cup under the Sprite nozzle and filled it up.

Then we found a table near the window where we could watch the drunks leaving the clubs and stumbling down the sidewalks.

Our pizza came out and was placed on the table between us.

Rhys flipped the box open. Steam rose up in curled tendrils before it evaporated, and my mouth flooded with saliva as the rich smell of cheese rushed over me.

Rhys pulled a piece free and lifted it to his mouth, balancing the weight of the slice with one hand under the crust.

“Wait,” I warned, holding up a hand.

He bit into it. “Shit. Oh shit. Fuck shit.” He dropped the slice and fanned his mouth, promptly spitting out the bite he’d just taken right onto the table.

I grimaced. “It’s hot.”

He gulped down half his soda as his eyes watered. When he came up for air, he winced and ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth. “Damn it.”

“Not the sharpest tool in the shed, are you?”

He pulled the box toward him. “None for you.”

I giggled in spite of myself. It sure didn’t feel like I was sitting across from a self-made billionaire. Not really. Sure, he had the looks of someone with a lot of money, what with his clothes and perfect skin and fresh haircut and expensive cufflinks, but he did not behave like one.

In fact, he behaved quite the opposite.

With a tight jaw and visible disappointment in the slump of his shoulders, Rhys closed the pizza box and pushed it out of the way so he could rest his elbows on the table and lean in closer to me. “Distract me from my burning tongue please.”

“Um.”

He sighed. “Sorry about those dicks back there.”

“Oh. Don’t be. I’m kind of used to it.”

He sat up a little straighter and frowned at me. “Used to it? That happens often?”

I wished I could swallow my tongue. I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t want to have a vulnerable conversation with him. I waved a dismissive hand. “No. Sorry. Not that often. Just every now and then. Especially if I’m out with Kim. She’s a real attention grabber.”

“The one in the red dress?”

“That’s the one.”

“I was standing on the third floor looking down. I didn’t notice Kim. I noticed you.”

My cheeks burned. I dared them not to but it didn’t work. Was I really blushing over a pick-up line like that? “I’m flattered. But you’re not going to fool me. Everyone notices Kim.”

His eyes flicked back and forth between mine like he was reading the page of a book. “You’re a curious girl, Vanny.”

“How so?”

“You have no fucking clue how beautiful you are.”

I groaned. Time to go . I should have seen this for what it was as soon as he swept in to save the day back at the club.

This was just an elaborate pick-up. He’d even gone as far as making sure he fed the chubby girl before he took her home.

Mr. No Name wasn’t the chivalrous gentleman I’d always imagined him to be in my head.

I got to my feet and shrugged out of his jacket. I held it out to him. “Here. Enjoy the pizza. I should get going.”

“What?”

“I’m leaving. I’m not interested in… whatever this is going to be.”

He stood too. The legs of his chair squeaked against the black and white linoleum.

“Wait. What are you assuming this is going to be? I just wanted to get pizza with you. And to get to know you. Vanessa, I’m Chris’s best friend.

I’m not going to treat you like a…” He trailed off, searching for the right word when there wasn’t one.

“Like a what?”

He bit his lip.

My knees threatened to give out from under me. That would be a sight. The chubby girl’s knees giving out after a night of dancing. Spare me the humiliation.

He rubbed the back of his neck. The gesture was bashful. Almost insecure. Then he finally met my eyes. “I’m not treating you like a conquest. I genuinely want to get to know you. Please. Sit.”

I hesitated.

Rhys sighed. “I understand. At least let me walk you back to your friend? Chris would kill me if he found out I left you alone on a street like this at one in the morning.”

I should have walked out. I knew it then and I would know it later.

But I didn’t.

I sat down, opened the pizza box, and took a slice.

The cheese was heavenly, the jalapenos a perfect punch of spice, the peppers a pop of sweetness.

I savored the bite and watched Rhys sit back down, wearing a smile that was cocky and sheepish at the same time.

He took a piece and we ate silently together, watching drunk girls in six-inch pumps walk like newborn giraffes down the sidewalk.

They leaned on each other’s shoulders, apparently oblivious to the fact that none of them were steadier on their feet than the other.

Rhys winced when a girl almost went down in a tangle of long limbs. “Never understood how girls could walk around in those damn things.”

I held up my foot, showing off my not-so-sexy kitten heels. “The smart ones play it safe. Vertical ascension and alcohol are not a good mix.”

He laughed. “Vertical ascension, huh?”

“Yep.”

Rhys licked pizza grease off his fingers. I damned each and every one of those fingers and the way his lips pursed around them. I had to endure it ten times over. By the time he wiped his hands on his napkin, my panties were in need of a wipe themselves.

“Can I ask you something personal, Vanny?”

“You can ask. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

His white smile lit up the pizza joint as more patrons stumbled in and stood in front of the counter to order individual slices from the display.

He didn’t spare any of them a glance in their short dresses with their long legs.

Instead, he remained focused on me. “How is it that you’re single? Really. I want to know.”

There were a dozen honest answers I could’ve given him.

I’m fat.

I’m inexperienced.

I’m fat.

I’m timid.

I’m fat.

I had a feeling he’d push back if I said any of those things. So I sipped my drink to buy myself a second to gather my thoughts. Then I offered him what I hoped was an easygoing smile. “I don’t know. Perhaps men don’t find my opinions as charming as I do.”

“Bullshit.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. Dating just hasn’t been a priority of mine. I’m focused on other things.”

“Like what?”

Fuck. Telling him I was focused on work wasn’t an option.

He knew I worked in a dress shop. My career focus was on my alter ego, Nessa Night, not on selling dresses I couldn’t fit into.

I could tell him my focus was on my health, but I wouldn’t have been able to get through the words without laughing at my bald-faced lie.

Maybe I could tell him I was too busy sorting through all my bullshit with my shrink to date.

Nope. Not an option either.

So I settled on the one little thing that had been hovering in the back of my mind like a dark cloud for the last four weeks. “Like getting ready for my ten-year high-school reunion.”