The Billionaire's Girlfriend (5 page)

I settled back in the plush armchair and took in the view from the window. The city looked so beautiful, so full of promise. I scooped a forkful of veggies in my mouth, crunching them slowly. Things were finally looking-

"Are you Leila?"

I tilted my head
toward the deep, sultry and very male voice. My eyes went over a bulging chest, barely contained by a powder blue polo, up until I hit a handsome face I'd seen plastered on glossy movie posters. When he smiled, lines creased around his mouth and eyes as he extended a hand.

"I'm Cade Wallace," he sai
d, dwarfing my hand in his. "Jacob’s secretary told me I could find you down here."

My mouth started working but no words came out. The main reason I hadn't been completely star struck when I met Rachel was b
ecause romances and chick flicks were rarely my thing. I preferred to watch things go boom and laugh at roided up men delivering over the top one liners before the bad guys ate a bullet. I'd pretty much seen everything Cade had been in since he became the It guy 5 years ago, drawing comparisons to Bruce Willis with Cruise-like good looks. He definitely had the All-American thing going on with blond hair, green eyes, and a body both men and women salivated over. He was eye candy, sure, but there was always a realness about him that made me seek out his movies with a special brand of voraciousness—even his attempts at more serious, 'actors' movies that took him from a household name to a household joke.

I was sitting there, shell shocked and still shaking his hand as he gave me a strange look and repeated himself.

“I’m guessing your Leila Montgomery? I’m Cade-”

"
Oh I know who you are, Mr. Wallace,” I said, finally speaking and knowing that word vomit was about to be in full effect. “I loved you in
Medal of Honor
and I literally cried in
Blood and Chrome
. And your storyline in the
Last Resort
was epic. Oh and
Rites of Passage
-" I burned red when I realized I was totally fangirling. In front of Cade freaking Wallace. "I'm so sorry." I bit my lip, still not believing he was standing in front of me. “I think you’re amazing.”

"
Cade is just fine," he said with another smile that lit up his whole face. "And I always love meeting fans of my work so apologies aren’t necessary."

I cleared
my throat, realizing he probably didn’t come over to sign an autograph. "Uh, have a seat. And you can call me Leila."

"Thank you, ma'am." Usually the whole ma'am would completely turn me off, but there was just something about a megastar that hadn't forgotten his down home roots and manners
that I found endearing. "I didn't mean to interrupt your lunch-"

"Oh it's fine," I tossed
a napkin over my barely eaten sandwich. "I just wasn't expecting to see you until Monday morning."

"Yeah, uh, that's what my assistant
had written on the calendar." An awkward silence stretched out between us for a minute until he shuffled in his seat uncomfortably and got on with it. "You know I've been out of town, working on a new movie."

I nodded. "
Soldier's Creed
." I'd only skimmed the script and flipped through publicity shots on the plane back to the States, but even then I knew this would reinstate him back on the action throne. "I know all of us here can't wait for the premiere. The story sounds amazing."

"It i
s amazing," he said, arms flexing as he crossed his arms. "It's based on a true story, you know. We flew the guy out on location, got to hear it straight. He was a real fucking hero." His face scrunched as he apologized for the profanity. "Beg your pardon. It was just surreal to see what was written on the paper in the flesh."

"You don't have to apologize." But I felt like I needed to. 'Based on a true story' had become a
cliché and I'd assumed they'd taken a grain of truth and turned it into a virtual bread factory of explosions and riveting soundtrack that had very little to do with truth.

"He's a true American hero," Cade continued, looking out the window like something
transfixed. "Not a wannabe like me."

“A wannabe?” I repeated.

“National Guard,” he answered quietly. His whole demeanor changed, the sunny, charismatic force somewhat dimmed. He was somber and almost eerily silent compared to the guy who first sat down at my table.

I scooted to the edge of my seat
, curious. "I had no idea you were military."

"Y
eah," he said gruffly, not meeting my eyes. “I didn’t do anything worth remembering.”

“Don’t say that.” I reached out, putting my hand over his. Something about his demeanor, his sadness, made me forget he was Cade Wallace. “Anyone serving our country, fighting for our freedoms is worth remembering.”

“Is that right?” he said, halfheartedly.

“Yep,” I said firmly. “Most actors can only say they’ve played characters, researching experiences to tell an authentic story. You’ve actually done it.”

He glanced up and his eyes drank in my own nice and slow like he was seeing me in a whole new light. Or maybe even the first time. I pulled my hand away and let out a nervous chuckle, wondering what Cade’s story was, and why in a technology age where every booger celebrities picked was readily available, there was nothing at all listed as far as a military record.

"Anyway,
” he began, cutting through my musings, “I was in the neighborhood and figured I'd come and meet the team that's going to help make sure it gets the box office reception it deserves."

I wrung my hands in my lap, refreshing the blush in my cheeks.
"I'm just a small part of the team, Mr. Wallace."

"My mother was a nurse. She spent her life doing the grunt work while doctors got all the glory." He winked
as he rose to his feet. "Trust me—I know what a big role the small parts play."

I sat a little taller, wishing
Natasha or any of the handful of women that had been looking at me like I wasn’t fit to scrub the toilets were around to hear that. "Well, alright then."

"You take care and I'll see you bright and early on Monday." He stopped an
d turned back to me, giving me another dazzling smile. "It was nice meeting you, Leila."

****

Le Goût had been on my ‘Big City Dreams’ list since forever. They had a Michelin star chef on staff and were always given amazing reviews in all the right newspapers and magazines. Even though I'd only been on the outside looking in, watching beautiful people around tables with dishes that cost as much as my grocery bill for the month, I knew that Le Goût represented something special. It was the pinnacle of class and prestige—everyone that was anybody had walked through the doors at least once. Even scoring a reservation less than a month in advance was impossible. Unless you were Jacob Whitmore.

Jacob put the Porsche
in park as we pulled to the velvet rope in front of Le Goût. The valet was on his p's and q's, promptly moving to open my door. Jacob held up his finger and the man paused, arms at his side, giving us a moment.

"Are you alright?" H
is eyes flickered over my face. "You've barely said two words since we got in the car."

I unclicked my
seatbelt slowly and when I met his gaze I didn't even bother with a white lie. I'd gotten my mother's text over thirty minutes ago and Jacob had to call Le Goût and give them the okay to seat her and Dad, even though they were mega early for our 8pm reservation. I'd become a whirlwind, saying the hell with drying and flatironing my hair and forgetting all the strategic make up I'd planned to apply. It was my first time at my dream restaurant and my curly hair was in a messy bun on top of my head and I was wearing an unassuming black dress because I didn’t have the time to steam the scarlet number I wanted to wear. God only knew the trouble my mother was getting into. Add that to the stress of my parents meeting Jacob and no wonder I was close-lipped.

One side of his mouth tugged upward. "You're nervous about your parents." When my eyebrow arched, he remedied. "Nervous about your mother."

I gave him a slight nod as I fiddled with my clutch. I'd told Jacob about my run in with the paps at my parent's house and accidentally let it slip that my mother tipped them off. I'd expected him to write her off, to think she was just another fame hungry momzilla living vicariously through her offspring, but he'd just laughed and asked if they got any good pictures. And he still wanted to meet her. It was terribly sweet--and upped the ante to a fever pitch that had dread coursing through my veins. He was the first guy who ever seemed genuinely interested in my family and learning about where I came from. It made the possibility that something would happen and keep everything from going off without a hitch.

"It'll be fine." He stroked my thigh, his touch taking the edge off. "It's just dinner."

I gave him a smile and with a nod from Jacob, the valet opened my door and I stepped out of the car. I ignored the part of me that knew it was a lot more than that. I breathed in and out as I clung to his arm and we breezed inside.

All the sights and smells helped to dull the nerves and I relaxed as we turned to the dining room. The area was a sea of glossy, important looking people, the jewels and watches at their wrists glittering as brightly as the silverware on the table. I hel
d my smile, believing that maybe, just maybe the night wouldn’t turn into a train wreck until I saw my mother. Her face was furious and disdain flowed off her in waves—and was directed at the waiter. We were easily fifty feet away, but I could still hear her words loud and clear.

"What do you mean it’s twenty-five dollars
for Perrier? I can buy it for two bucks at the drugstore down the street!"

Oh God.

I rushed forward, hoping she would put the crazy back in the box once she spotted me and Jacob. "Mom!"

She turned her head back to the front and went from meltdown to Miss Congeniality. "Leila!" She swat the waiter away like she was the Queen of England as she stood up, holding out her arms.
“It’s so good to see you!”

I gave her an awkward hug before I stepped aside to introduce Jacob.
"And this is-"

"My future son-in-law!"

Jacob let out an uncomfortable chuckle as she brought him in for a hug that lasted way longer than appropriate. “Mrs. Montgomery. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh the pleasure’s all mine,”
she said with a grating wink. My father gave Jacob a sturdy handshake once my mother released him and flashed me an apologetic half smile.

I settled in my seat, trying to ignore the warmth of the gaze of the other patrons. Their disapproving eyes were as unnerving as cameras flashing. When our waiter gauged he wouldn't be chewed out
again over the price of water, he breezed back to the table. I barely let him get a word out before I ordered the biggest martini they had.

"Hard day at work?"
Mom didn’t even bother masking her judgment.

"Something like that," I answered
with a tight smile.

I could tell she wanted to push the subject, maybe give me a lecture about how it wasn't lady
like to drink, but she let it go. "It must be so glamorous working with celebrities." She leaned forward, dropping her voice to a near whisper. "Working with anyone interesting?"

I glanced at Jacob and he gave me a nod. "Right now we're working with Cade Wallace."

She exchanged a look with my dad and he shook his head. "You know I don't keep up with that stuff, sweetheart."

She turned back to me, her forehead scrunched in concentration. "There's something familiar about that name..." She snapped her fingers as it dawned on her. "Cade Wallace! That bulky, Captain America looking action star with the strong jawline?"

"That's him," I said with a weak laugh. My smile faltered when I realized why she remembered his jawline at all. Oh no…

"If memory serves, Lay had quite the crush on him."

Jacob perked. "Is that right?"

"I don't know if I'd c
all it a crush, Mom." I smoldered.

I must have been naive to think that this meet the parents might go any different than the others. I'd turned down an offer for Jacob and I to come over for a home cooked meal, remembering my mother bringing out the photo album for the first guy I'd brought home. The second had to endure Mom's frighteningly descriptive honeymoon with Dad after she found out we were going on a cruise. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

"Oh please," she snickered. "You had posters of the man plastered all over your dorm." She winked at Jacob. "All the other girls swoon over Leonardo DiCaprio, but not my Leila. She liked her men with
extra
testosterone."

I hoped my mother's dated intel would lessen the blow of revealing that I was a fan of Cade
’s, but I could already tell that she'd ruffled Jacob's feathers. The hand on my thigh retreated to his own and his jaw went tight as a bowstring.

"Well," Jacob said with a chuckle that he only used when he was pretending he found something amusing. "Maybe I should have made the time to meet the man of Leila's dreams."

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