The Billionaire's Pretend Girlf - Leslie North Page 0,61

best friends as the same smirk crossed both their faces. “Oh, come on. She works for me!”

“But she doesn’t report to you,” Grayson said. “And she’s willing to tease you, so it doesn’t look like she’s intimidated by you.”

Blake rolled his eyes. “Why her? Out of literally everyone else you could have picked?”

“Because this is what the courts have chosen,” Grayson said, crossing his arms over his chest. “A bet’s a bet. Unless you’d rather some other second-string DJ attend your nightclub opening…”

Blake exhaled forcefully. “I hate you guys.”

Daniel’s grin widened. “We know that’s code for ‘love.’”

Blake groaned. “Fine. I’ll do it. But you know what?” He jabbed a finger toward Daniel. “I need to see some proof that DJ Fiesta is coming. Immediately.”

“Consider it done. You want me to have him give you a call? Leave a personalized voicemail?”

“Oh, like one of those celebrity greetings,” Grayson said, “where Susan Sarandon calls and says happy birthday.”

Daniel snorted. “Susan Sarandon?”

“Well, whoever you consider a celebrity,” Grayson clarified.

“I don’t care what you do. I just need proof. And let it be known, this is the stupidest thing you two have ever had anyone do in the name of winning a bet,” Blake went on, looking at Grayson. “Even stupider than when you bet Daniel that he and Jackie couldn’t last as a couple to the end of your wedding events.”

“I didn’t bet that,” Grayson said. “You and I bet that.”

“But this is stupider because she could be married for all we know. And then what?”

“I didn’t see a ring,” Daniel said.

“Me neither,” Grayson confirmed.

Blake sighed, rubbing at his face just as Michelle breezed out of first aid closet. Her brilliant blue eyes snagged him again as she walked toward them.

He could at least credit his friends with picking one of the hottest women he’d seen in recent history. And this was in her work clothes.

Still, the absurdity of this impromptu bet gnawed at him. But DJ Fiesta…

“Hey, Michelle, while you’re patching up our friend, we just wondered if you come across many other bachelor business owners who get knocked in the head during a regular day?”

Blake steeled his jaw as he sent daggers to Daniel. These guys were worse than brothers sometimes with the ways they teased and mocked him. It was one thing when they were alone, but did they have to do it in front of other people? Michelle laughed, lilting and breezy. It took the edge off his irritation.

“Not too many. Most of the guys I tend to are top athletes with shin splints and stress fractures.”

“Interesting,” Grayson said, crossing his arms as Michelle began cleaning the wound on Blake’s face. Blake stared so hard at his friend that it could have created a burn mark. It was mostly to telepathically transmit the words SHUT UP to him.

“Interesting,” Blake said, “and exactly what she was hired to do.”

Michelle laughed, stepping closer as she dabbed at his wound with a cotton swab. “Sure. But I mean, taking care of injured baseball team owners falls under the same umbrella.”

“You know, it’s funny,” Grayson barreled on, looking at Blake with a glint in his eye that told him exactly what level of mischief to expect, “Blake, Daniel and I were just talking out there on the field about how Blake needs a proper tour of his own training facilities. Would you be able to provide that for him?”

Blake bit back a scowl. Instead, he offered up a smile when Michelle glanced at him.

“Seriously?” she asked.

“He’s serious,” Blake confirmed, wishing he could punch Grayson in the chest. Over Grayson’s shoulder, Daniel was smiling into a closed fist. They could both go to hell. But they’d lobbed this ball, and now he had to run with it. “I’ve been meaning to do it and haven’t had a chance to put it on my schedule.”

“Why, have you got too much else going on?” Michelle asked with a wink. There was something disarming about her smile, the casual rapport she’d established with him already. She wasn’t shy around him, but she didn’t fawn over him either. That was a rare find for him—almost like a present, wrapped in a very attractive package. He paused, his words evaporating on his tongue as he got lost in the pretty planes of her face.

“Something like that,” he finally said.

“He’s opening a new nightclub,” Daniel offered.

“Ah. Yeah, I’d imagine that would take up some time,” Michelle said, right before applying the butterfly Band-Aid over his cheek.

“You know, Blake, with how