Brock: A Bad Boy Romance (5 page)

Chapter Two

Gemma took off her sunglasses, hat, and wig when she entered Lizzie’s place. It was an expansive warehouse that has been converted into a catering business. The counter tops were covered in a beautiful gray marble, and the appliances were a dazzling stainless steel. She thought her own kitchen was impressive, but it was nothing compared to this.

“You made it!” Lizzie beamed as she rushed towards her. She went in for a hug but stopped and looked at her arms. They were covered in sauce. “I’d hug you, but I don’t think this sauce is going to go with your outfit.”

Looking down at her expensive Italian silk white shirt that she’d paired with her dark tight jeans, Gemma shrugged. “Looks aren’t getting me very far these days anyways,” she said as she leaned in for the hug.

“Oh, sweetheart. You made it to the top on looks and brains, and don’t let anyone tell you differently,” Lizzie said as she went back the pot she had on the oven. She was shorter than the average woman with dark hair and naturally olive skin. Although she was pretty, she did very little in the way of make-up.

Spinning a vintage bight orange dining room chair around, Gemma slumped in it. “My brains don’t seem to be kicking in now. I’m broke. I’m beyond broke. I’m literally days away from losing my apartment.”

The phone on the counter rang, and Lizzie sent her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, darling. Give me just a minute.” She snatched up the phone. “Elizabeth Towney here.” After a minute, her eyes widened in panic. “But you’re supposed to be here in five minutes. You couldn’t call out an hour ago? I’ve got a delivery that I have to make in twenty minutes!”

Obviously frustrated, she hung up the phone and let loose a few colorful expletives. “Damn it! He could be one of my best customers, and now I don’t have anyone to deliver it. And if I take it, I’ll be late on the Smithfield order, and they’re big customers. Shit!”

Gemma cocked her head and frowned. “Why are you taking these phone calls? Don’t you have a manager that can help you out?”

“No. I keep meaning to hire one, but I just haven’t gotten around to it.” She looked over at Gemma, and suddenly her eyes lit up with delight. “You’re trying to make some extra money, right?”

Warily, Gemma bit her lip. “I suppose so,” she said slowly.

“It will literally take you forty-five minutes. There is a twenty-percent tip included in the price, plus I pay a flat rate per delivery and reimburse for gas.” Lizzie jotted something down and slid the invoice across the counter.

Gemma got up and took a look. “That would pay my phone and electric bill,” she said softly. “Charlie Connor? The Charlie Connor?”

“The one and only. He called twenty minutes ago with a dinner order, which is strange because he’s supposed to have a party tonight. I only know because everyone in the California catering world was fighting tooth and nail to cater it. They gave it to Tara Sweets. That bitch,” she said half-heartedly. “So you’ll do it?”

It would be humiliating to go from model to delivery woman, but Gemma didn’t want to tell Lizzie that. Besides, no one else was offering her a job. And she did have her disguise. “Do I have to wear a uniform?” she asked dubiously.

“I have a t-shirt with my logo on it, but you don’t have to wear it,” Lizzie said with a smile. “Although that shirt might get you more attention then you might like.”

“I’ll wear the t-shirt,” Gemma said instantly. Lizzie laughed and abandoned her food to fetch the shirt.

“Are you the only cook in this operation?’ Gemma asked a she waited.

“No. I’ve got three other cooks, but two of them are out shopping for ingredients, and the other is out sick. I’m the main cook. You know how I am in the kitchen, and it’s hard for me to give up that control.” She emerged from the back and tossed something black her way. Lizzie caught it was ease and held it up.

It was simple and classic with white lettering. Gemma stripped off her shirt and slipped the t-shirt on. “Comfortable.”

“Still no modesty, I see,” Lizzie said dryly. “Do you have any idea how annoying it is to see your perfect body?”

“Please,” Gemma said as she rolled her eyes. “Your body is just as good as mine, so I don’t want to hear it.”

Lizzie reached up and pulled some thermal totes out of the cabinets in the top. Carefully, she stacked the decorated aluminum packages in the totes and sealed them. Finally, she grabbed a six-pack of beer from the fridge and placed it in the cooler. “Okay, keep everything upright and as still as possible. These babies here have excellent insulation, so he should be able to enjoy everything right away. There are storing and reheating instructions for leftovers as well as a review card in the top. He’s already paid, so you just have to deliver the food and give him your sultriest smile.”

“Cute,’ Gemma said as she grabbed the packages. “Lizzie, thank you for this.”

“Girl, don’t even mention it. You are doing me the biggest favor in the world. Now I’ve got a delivery afterwards, and then I have dinner plans, so you don’t need to come back. Just text me a confirmation that the delivery was made and the customer was satisfied. Any questions?”

“It seems easy enough,” Gemma murmured.

“Okay, out you go. Go!” Lizzie commanded as she pointed to the door. Gemma hooked one hand under the thermal totes and slung the cooler over her shoulder.

“Some things haven’t changed,” she said with a wink as she slipped out the door. Lizzie had always been a take-charge kind of woman. Carefully loading her car, she slipped behind the wheel of her car and repositioned her wig and sunglasses.

Charlie Connor would never recognize her.

What should have been a ten-minute drive took half an hour. She texted an update to Lizzie as she pulled into the private drive and gave her information to security. The wind caught her unexpectedly as she pulled the food out of her car, and she frowned and pulled her shirt back down. Finally, she was ringing his doorbell.

“Come in,” the voice grunted over the intercom. The door buzzed, and she heard it unlock. “Put it in the kitchen.”

Inwardly sighing, she hooked the door handle with her elbow and pushed down as she stumbled into the condo. “Towney Catering,” she called out. No one answered her.

“Rude,” she muttered as she pulled the food through the living room and into the kitchen. Quickly, she pulled out the containers and set them on the counter. After placing the beer in the refrigeration, she shut the door and turned to leave.

He had appeared out of nowhere and was casually leaning against the counter. With a shriek, she stumbled back. Jesus. He was naked.

Damn. She’d never seen him in person, and it was clear that his pictures didn’t do him justice.

His thick and dark hair looked like he’d just run his hands through it, and those piercing blue eyes made her heart skip a beat. Combined with his dark skin, his five o-clock shadow, and the six-pack he didn’t seem embarrassed about sharing, he looked like something out of a magazine.

And Gemma should know since she’d graced the cover of more than a dozen of them.

“Towney Catering,” she said dumbly. Her tongue seemed too thick to actually formulate words, and she flushed with embarrassment. She’d had the attentions of countless sexy men, so why would this one be any different?

“I gathered from your shirt,” he said with a smirk. “Although I’m a little concerned about the wig and the fact that you’re wearing sunglasses inside.”

Her arms shot up to her wig, and she realized that the wind had blown it askew. He looked relaxed, but his eyes were intense. It was possible that he was going to call the cops any minute. Lizzie would kill her.

“Sorry about that,” she said as she slowly pulled the wig off and removed her sunglasses. “I was doing a favor for a friend.”

“You’re Gemma Darling,” he said in a startled voice. He moved around the counter, and she tried hard not to gasp. But he was wearing a pair of boxers, and for a moment, she didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed

“Lizzie is a friend of mine. Sorry, Elizabeth Towney. Anyways, I think everything is in order here. I’ll just be on my way.” Gemma stepped back nervously as he moved into the kitchen.

“Is this your only delivery?” he said in a low voice as he advanced on her.

“Yes,” she whispered as she backed into the wall. What was he doing?

With a knowing grin, he turned and began popping the lids off the containers. She felt a sharp jolt of irritation. He knew just how he was affecting her, and he was playing with her. “Then you can stay and join me for dinner.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s my birthday. You would tell a man no on his birthday?”

“I would tell a stranger no any day of the year,” she snapped as she edged around the counter.

“It’s just dinner,” he said with a smile. “Besides, I thought the catering order came with hands-on service.”

Gemma frowned. Lizzie never said anything about that. She didn’t want to do anything to ruin her friend’s reputation. “I suppose I could plate it for you,” she said softly.

“Excellent!” Charlie said with a smile. “I’ll take my dinner in the living room. And please, I ordered enough for two. Join me. They’ll be a handsome tip in it for you.”

He didn’t even give her a chance to respond as he left the kitchen. Grumbling to herself, she began to go through his cabinets and pull down dishes. She desperately needed any of the money she could get, but she had a feeling that she might regret not leaving right then and there.

But she loved her apartment. And at the moment, she was willing to do whatever it took to keep it.

*                            *                            *

Gemma Darlings was in his kitchen. Obviously one of his friends had set this up as a joke or as a birthday present. When he’d ordered his meal, he certainly didn’t count on getting a gorgeous woman as part of the deal. His night was looking better and better.

Nearly everyone knew Gemma, and he was no exception. She’d started her modeling career at the tender age of eighteen, and she’d done everything from televisions commercials to catwalks. Her long blonde hair and sultry red lips were trademarks in the summer, and those dark brown eyes were glamorous in winter ads. She’d been America’s sweetheart until she’d been caught in the arms of a married man.

He’d treated the scandal with a grain of salt. The tabloids had a way of blowing things out of proportion, and he knew that better than anyone. But as her career began to fade, he started to believe that the rumors were true. She was nothing but another woman who thought she could have anything.

Not that Charlie could really judge her. He’d had his fair share of married women. The only difference was that it was expected of him.

And he didn’t get caught.

She’d nearly jumped at the chance to serve him when he’d offered her money. Charlie wondered just how much she was getting paid for this gig tonight.

How far was she willing to go?

He grew hard just thinking about it.

“So you are friends with the owner of Towney Catering,” he said as she joined him. “Do you brag about that a lot?”

“Actually, today is the first day I’ve seen her operation. She invited me down to talk and found herself in the middle of an emergency. It was you or Smithfield.” She handed him his plate and settled down to him.

Charlie grimaced. “Really? Smithfield? Surely I rank higher than him.”

“Sure, but you’re a first time customer. He’s a regular. Aren’t you supposed to be a birthday party?” She took a swig of the beer and leaned back.

He took a moment to admire how perfect she looked on his couch. She had that girl next-door look, and he loved it.

“I took a look at the list of people attending the party and decided that it wasn’t for me,” he said as he dug into his steak.

“Aren’t you supposed to rub elbows with the rich and famous when you’re rich and famous?” she asked with a lifted eyebrow.

“You’re rich and famous too,” he pointed out.

She clammed up quickly, and he realized that he’d hit a soft spot. Maybe she wasn’t as rich as she used to be, but she was certainly famous. “I thought maybe I’d rent Dusty Tracks. Ever seen it?”

Her eyes widened. “Seriously? I think that was my dad’s my favorite movie.”

“Too spoiled for an old movie? It’s a classic.”

“Casablanca is a classic. Dusty Tracks is a terrible movie they made forty years ago. Being old doesn’t make you a classic,” she said with a scrunched up nose.

Charlie chuckled. “So you’re not a fan. But you didn’t answer my original question. Have you ever seen it?”

Gemma cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. “’Bout time we hit them dusty tracks. Only way we gonna get anywhere is if we start gettin’,” she said in a low voice.

“What the hell was that?” Charlie said as he burst out laughing.

“That’s the main character. Thomas something or other.”

“That is not what he sounds like,” he said as he wiped the tears away.

“Oh, it’s close enough. My Dad used to have it on at least three nights a week. When I was a kid, I’d sit down and watch it with him, but when it go so that I could quote every word of it, I had to call it quits.”