Second Chance Mess (Bad News Billionaires #1) - Lucia Jordan Page 0,13

we finished a drink and some small talk with Kate and Nick, I walked Brooke out to the stretch limo that was waiting for us in front of the apartment. I hadn’t even thought about the connection that Brooke would draw between the limo and the incident that had set this whole thing off. As soon as I caught sight of the repulsed look on her face, it immediately hit me.

How could I have been so stupid?

I didn’t know whether I should apologize and admit that I hadn’t even thought about the association of the two events or if I should just ignore it and move on with the evening. Since my track record seemed to prove that ignoring things didn’t work, I opted to come right out and say something to stop the silence murdering the evening before it even got started.

“Brooke, I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t even think about the limo.”

“Of course you didn’t,” she said as she got in the car.

This was already off to a less than perfect start. I sighed and walked around to the other door.

When we got to Plethora, the line was out the door. I waved toward the bouncer, and he motioned for us to come on ahead and opened the corded-off area to let us inside. It helped when you were the wealthiest man in the city. We rode the elevator to the rooftop and then stepped out into the bar. I was hoping that the impressive sight of this place would help take Brooke’s mind off the limo.

“Have you ever been here before?” I asked her.

“Of course not,” she said. “This place is privately reserved for people who run in your social status circle.”

She was right. Strike two.

I held out my arm for her to take and walked her over to one of the coolest spots in the bar to sit. I needed to make this evening breathtaking.

Plethora had an urban-bohemian feel to it. The sofas and chairs were low to the ground so that it almost felt like you were sinking into them, and the low coffee tables near each seating area adorned with piles of mismatched candles of various sizes. Overhead, there were silk canopies in bright colors that reminded me of an Indian market and strands of twinkling white lights. There was also an abundance of greenery and hanging plants that filled in the spaces in-between. The bar itself was packed, and even the cozy areas such as the one we were in, were getting filled quickly. A waitress came by with a cocktail menu, and Brooke’s face seemed intrigued when she looked it over.

“Wow,” she said as the waitress waited to take our drink order. “There are so many incredible looking concoctions on here. Can you just pick one of your favorites for me to try?”

“Absolutely!” the waitress smiled. “And will you be having your usual Mr. Rollins?”

I saw Brooke’s eyebrows raise as she waited for my response. In light of not seeming like a snobbish elitist, I told the waitress that I’d like her to “surprise me” as well. I thought that I almost saw Brooke laugh a little.

The air up on the roof was cool since it was autumn and the breeze seemed more noticeable this high up. Brooke didn’t bring a jacket, and neither did I, so I had nothing to offer her to help keep her warm aside from my arm to hold onto her, and I was afraid it was a bit too soon still for that. So instead, I just looked at her loose, gray T-shirt blowing against her body in the breeze and the way that the deep neckline fell against the top of her breasts. I needed to talk; I just didn’t know where to start.

“Why didn’t you tell me about what happened in the limo?” Brooke lunges right in with her question.

I was actually glad that she just dove straight into it and kept me from having to figure out how to gently maneuver the conversation. I was dead-awful at being gentle with discussions. Contract negotiations I could be a whiz at all day, but relationship talks made me feel as though I was completely incapable of intelligent thought.

“I didn’t tell you because I was hoping it wouldn’t be a big deal,” I answered honestly.

“How could you possibly think that a picture of my boyfriend, who also happens to be my boss, drunk in a limo with some woman trying to put her hand on his