The Billionaire’s Favorite Mistake (Page 13)

“I’m good, thanks.”

“You let me know if you want any . . . service.” She licked her lips suggestively and then sauntered away.

That wouldn’t be happening. Tonight, he had two missions: to discuss business with Stijn, and to find Greer and apologize for being an ass. Those things were the only reasons he’d taken time out of his busy schedule to pop in to Vegas and show up at this party.

The entire thing was a sham. Prospectus magazine’s Businessman of the Year? It was well known among elite circles that it was a lot like one of the Hollywood “Walk of Fame” stars—you paid to play. They’d write puff pieces about how incredible his company was and how business was booming, and it was all to raise the profile of a company that was otherwise sagging and in trouble.

Asher knew this, because he had done it last year as a last-ditch effort to save his company, OutSource Everything. He’d taken a chunk of the money Stijn had sent his way, bought a ton of PR, and made a few risky investments in the hopes of a quick payoff. It had all worked out beautifully, and his company was now doing better than ever. Asher had doubled his fortune.

Now that he knew Stijn was in trouble, he was here to help. It was the least he could do after the man had bailed his ass out, no questions asked.

And then there was Greer. Greer, who’d woken him up from his self-destructive spiral. Whose sweet offering at the party had turned into a nightmare. He’d lost her friendship, and he hadn’t even realized how much it had meant to him. Losing her made him realize he was pissing away friendships he cherished and valued, and that it was time to sack up. He’d eased off the throttle at work, no longer spending sixteen hours a day at the office. He’d stopped drinking entirely, and he was working on rebuilding friendships that had become strained over the past two years, since he’d broken up with Donna and things went into the crapper.

He didn’t even miss Donna anymore. Now, Greer? Greer he missed. He hated that there were no more Monday lunches. He hated that he missed that soft, shy smile of hers, as if she were sharing something special with him when she was pleased. Yeah, Greer he missed, but not Donna.

That was probably the strangest part of all. Donna had been a big part of his life for over ten years, ever since he was sixteen. Her sudden betrayal had gutted him, along with her casual declaration that she no longer loved him and the fact that she moved to Australia to be with her new lover. He’d felt completely hollowed out, as if there was nothing left inside. He’d felt that way for over a year, and every day waking up without Donna at his side had seemed like an exercise in pain.

Somewhere during the past few months, though, that pain had gone away, and he hadn’t even realized it. Donna wasn’t the person he’d fallen in love with anymore, and he’d been too wrapped up in other things to notice it. Now, oddly enough, when he thought about happiness, instead of Donna’s flaming red hair and boisterous laugh, he pictured Greer and her small, quiet smiles that seemed almost reluctant to show themselves.

She had to be here tonight. He wanted to talk to her. If nothing else, to apologize for the way he’d acted. He knew she was avoiding him, and it bothered him. It bothered him that he’d taken advantage of a friend, and that he’d been such an asshole to someone who was nothing but kind to him. Who’d been supporting him since day one, and who’d always had time for him even when the entire world seemed to want to forget his name. She’d always been there for him, and he wanted to be there for her.

He wanted to fix this thing between them.

And, okay, maybe take her out for lunch or get their Mondays scheduled again. But that was pure selfishness talking because he missed her. Most of all, he just wanted to know that Greer was okay with things and he didn’t want her to hate him.

Asher walked the party, looking for a small figure in plain clothing and big glasses. Everywhere he looked, though, there was no sign of Greer. She was Stijn’s daughter, wasn’t she? Surely she’d be here for her father’s award. He mingled for a bit, chatting with acquaintances and scanning the crowd. Lots of scantily clad Dutchgirls. No sign of Greer. That was . . . fucking disappointing.

He was just about to circle through the party again when he saw Stijn Janssen off to one side, talking to a politician. Stijn had his arm around a perky blonde in purple, two identical girls flanking them. Now was as good a time as any to talk to the man. He finished his bottle of water, set it on a nearby table, and approached the small group. As Asher moved in, the politician left, and Stijn’s gaze went to him.

“Mr. Janssen.” Asher extended his hand, putting on his best people-love-me grin. “Great party. Thanks for inviting me.” He nodded at the blondes, one of whom had started twirling her hair and eyeing him with a hungry look. “Ladies.”

To his surprise, Stijn gave him a cool look. “Do I know you?”

“I should hope so.” Asher’s friendly smile remained in place, though inwardly he was wondering what the fuck was up with that. He pulled his hand back, noticing Stijn hadn’t bothered to shake it. “Asher Sutton. I’m one of your stockholders and the owner of OutSource Everything. I was Prospectus magazine’s Businessman of the Year last year.”

“Ahhh.” The look in Stijn’s eyes grew cunning, and he held out his hand. “Mr. Sutton. A pleasure to meet you. These are my girlfriends, Bunni, Kiki, and Tiffi.”

Tiffi continued to twirl her hair, smiling at him. Yikes.

“Lucky guy,” Asher said smoothly. He shook Stijn’s hand, trying not to feel distaste for the man. Cold bastard, but he’d saved Asher’s ass, so he couldn’t hate him. “Listen, I wanted to come and thank you personally for what you did for me last year.”