Capsizing Her Billionaire Boss - Sarah Gay Page 0,13
arm down to help Poppy back up. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw a huge man fly by.
Damian pummeled into the paparazzi’s chest, slamming the man into a concrete column. The camera flew from the guy’s arms and into the street where it gave up its ghost to a passing bus. Thousands of plastic and glass shards scattered across three lanes of one-way traffic with every subsequent car adding to the crushing slaughter.
“That’s unfortunate,” said Damian, bending over the gasping man crumpled at his feet. “I guess you’ll think twice the next time you’re tempted to push a woman down…the woman down,” he said, meeting Poppy’s eye for a second before he pointed to a driver who waved for them to load into his car. “Get her out of here,” Damian instructed Kent.
Paralyzed and awestruck, Poppy stood motionless. Damian, the self-proclaimed, noncommittal bachelor had fought for her, protected her. She blinked the stars out of her eyes as Kent took her arm and helped her into the back seat of the car. Vanilla scented car freshener saturated the damp air.
“Where to?” the driver asked, staring back at them.
Kent leaned forward. “I ordered a ride to Nani’s bistro. Is that where you’re taking us?”
The driver cocked his head to the side. “That’s not one of Rob Jones’s restaurants. I thought, because his brother motioned for me to take you instead of them, that you were headed to one of Rob’s places. I’m his personal driver.”
Poppy pinched the bridge of her nose. “And you came to the airport to pick up Rob?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered. “Where would you like me to take you? To Nani’s? It’s on the far end of town,” he said, watching out his window for cars.
“The Marriott please,” she answered, hoping that if the driver took them someplace close, he’d get back to the airport quicker. She prayed that Rob wouldn’t mind them using his car since it was Wyatt who ordered them to take it.
Kent looked at her with an expression of bewilderment. She reached over to pinch his arm and pull him out of whatever stupor he found himself in. He came to before she was forced to use physical means.
“Bacon?” he asked her.
“Bacon can wait. I need to clear my mind.” She paused, catching his inquisitive, searching stare. She wondered if he’d figured out that Damian had been the man she’d kissed. “I’ve been under a lot of stress the past twenty-four hours. My travel to the West Indies involved twelve hours of travel, two island stops, several phone calls with accountants, and multiple business plan revisions to draft a rock solid business proposal, then I had two flights back here to Dallas.” She sighed. “But it’s nothing a hot shower and soft pillows can’t fix.”
Kent patted her hand. “People do unusual things when they’re under that much stress. Things they wouldn’t normally do. Things they may never do again. I want you to know that I get that.” He leaned forward to get the driver’s attention. “Residence Inn. The airport one, less than four miles from here.”
The driver nodded.
Poppy rummaged through her overnight bag until she found her sketch notebook. She tapped her lip with the end of her pen, contemplating how to put her appreciation into words. Tall buildings flew by her window, but she saw nothing but Damian’s face; her mind repeated over and over the exhilaration she felt when Damian knocked the paparazzi to the ground.
Less than ten minutes of daydreaming later, they pulled up to a long red brick building. She hadn’t scribbled down a single word. A metal flagpole clanked while the huge American flag it held whipped in the wind. The driver opened Kent’s door.
Poppy touched Kent’s arm. “Would you mind getting our rooms for us while I write out a quick thank you note to Rob? I feel bad he was left stranded at the airport.”
“Sure thing,” he answered, pulling Charlie into his arms and jumping out of the car.
“I’ll hurry,” she told both Kent and the driver.
The driver poked his head into the back seat. “Take your time.”
“Thank you,” she said, addressing the first note to Rob. The note to Damian proved more difficult. After scribbling her thoughts down, she folded the notes in half, wrote their names on the outside, and climbed out of the car. She handed the papers, along with a tip, to the driver. “Will you please give these to Rob and Damian when you see them?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” he