My Fair Billionaire(36)
Author: Elizabeth Bevarly

Maybe there was emotion, even love, on her part, but on Peyton’s? Never. There hadn’t been when they were teenagers—he hadn’t been able to get out of her bedroom fast enough, and his antagonism toward her for the rest of the school year had been worse than ever—and not now, either. This morning he’d said nothing about last night, had only wondered what today’s lesson would be, as if their making love hadn’t changed anything. Because it hadn’t changed anything. At least, not for him.

Nerves tumbled through her midsection as she surveyed herself in the mirror one last time. On the upside, the fund-raiser tonight was one of the biggest ones held in Chicago, so there was an excellent chance she and Peyton wouldn’t run into anyone from the Emerson Academy. On the downside, the fund-raiser tonight was one of the biggest ones held in Chicago, so there was an excellent chance she and Peyton would run into everyone from the Emerson Academy.

Maybe if she wore a pair of those gorgeous, gemstone-encrusted Chanel sunglasses…

She immediately pushed the idea away. Not only was it déclassé to wear sunglasses to a society function—unless it involved a racetrack or polo match—she couldn’t afford to add any more accessories. As it was, the form-fitting gold Marchesa gown, along with the blue velvet Escada pumps, clutch and shawl, and the Bulgari sapphire necklace, were going to set her back enough that she would have to exist on macaroni and cheese until July. Still, she thought as she turned to view the plunging back of the dress and the perfect French twist she’d managed for her hair, she looked pretty smashing if she did say so herself.

When she stepped out of the fitting room to find Lucy waiting for her, Ava could tell by her look of approval that she agreed.

“You know, I didn’t think the blue shoes and clutch were going to work,” the salesclerk said, “but with that necklace, it all comes together beautifully. I guess that’s why you’re the big boss.”

Well, you could take the girl out of society, but you couldn’t take society out of the girl. Not that some of her former friends hadn’t tried.

The thought made her stomach roil. She really, really, really hoped she didn’t see anyone she knew tonight.

“I have to go,” she said. “Thank you again for working so many hours this week. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You already have,” Lucy told her with a grin. “You’ve made it up to me time and time and a half again.”

Ava grinned back. “Don’t spend it frivolously.”

Not the way Ava had spent so frivolously with this outfit. She wished she’d had the foresight to charge Peyton for expenses.

“Have fun tonight!” Lucy called as Ava made her way to the door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Not to worry, Ava assured her friend silently. She’d already done that. By falling in love with a man who would never, ever love her back.

Ten

Peyton paced in front of the Palmer House Hilton, checking his watch for the tenth time and tugging the black tie of his new tuxedo. Ava had been right about the phone call. That morning, she’d called someone named Violet, who said she would call someone named Catherine, and before he’d even left Ava’s apartment, his phone had rung with a call from that same Catherine, who had turned out to be someone from Ava’s social circle at Emerson—and someone who had treated him even worse than Ava had—gushing about how much she would love it if he would come to their “little soiree.” She’d also made him promise to seek her out as soon as he arrived so the two of them could catch up on old times.

As if he wanted to catch up with anyone from Emerson who wasn’t Ava. Jeez.

Where the hell was she? She should have been here seven and a half minutes ago. He scanned the line of taxis and luxury cars that snaked halfway down Monroe Street. As if his thoughts made it happen, the door of a yellow cab three cars back opened and Ava climbed out. And not just any Ava. But a breathtaking twenty-four-carat-gold Ava.

Holy crap, she looked— He stopped himself. Not just because he couldn’t think of an adjective good enough to do her credit, but because there would be no holy crap tonight. Tonight he was supposed to be a gentleman. Tonight, he would be a—he tried not to gag—society buck. Guys like that didn’t say Holy crap. Guys like that didn’t even say Guys like that. They said… He racked his brain, trying to remember some of the stuff Ava had taught him to say, since even saying stuff like stuff was off-limits when it came to presenting a dignified, articulate image.

Aw, screw it. He could think whatever words he wanted, as long as he didn’t say them out loud. And what he thought when he saw Ava gliding toward him, covered in gold and sapphire-blue, was…was…

Huh. Even allowing himself to use his usual vocabulary, he still couldn’t think of anything. Except maybe about what she was wearing under all the gold and sapphires.

Crap.

Okay, so the past couple of weeks had been the best of times and the worst of times. The best of times because he’d been around Ava, and he now knew how to do things that increased his social value to women like her. But the worst of times because, even with his increased social value, Ava still didn’t want him. Not the way he wanted her.

Well, okay, she wanted him. At least, last night she had. She had definitely wanted him the way he wanted her last night. She just didn’t want him today. Not the way he wanted her. And it was a different kind of wanting he felt today—a way more important kind of wanting—than it had been last night. Which was weird, because last night he’d wanted her in a way that was pretty damned important. What was even worse—in fact, what was the worst part of all—was that she was more firmly entrenched in his head now than ever, and he had no idea how to deal with it. And she wasn’t just in his head. She was in other body parts, too. And not just the ones that liked to have sex.

She’d changed since high school. A lot. Yeah, there had been times when she’d tried to shroud herself in the same ice-princess disguise she’d worn in high school, but Peyton had seen past the facade. She was warmer now, more accessible. More fun to be around. Even when the two of them sparred with each other, there was something enjoyable about it.

But then, he’d kind of enjoyed sparring with her in high school, too. Really, now that he thought about it, he realized Ava couldn’t have been that cold and distant back then. Not all the time. There must have been something about her that attracted him—something only his subconscious had been able to see. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been attracted. Since coming back to Chicago, his conscious had started to pick up on it, too. Ava wasn’t vain, shallow or snotty. Had she been vain, she wouldn’t have thought about anyone but herself, and she never would have helped him out with his self-improvement, even if he was paying her. Why shouldn’t he pay her? He was going to pay someone else for their expertise, and hers was even more expert because she’d grown up in the environment he was trying to penetrate. Uh…he meant enter. Uh…he meant join. Yeah, join.