Chapter 5

What is he doing with a woman twice his age? I've been watching for several minutes, and he bursts out laughing, hanging on to her every word. Multiple lowball glasses are arranged in front of them. People typically appear more attractive when viewed through drinking glasses, but damn, she's got to be sixty.

It isn't until she abruptly sits on his lap that he squints his eyes, but upon opening them, a piercing glare is directed at me, causing his previously smiling face to tense up. The older woman quickly hops off his lap and whispers something in his ear, though I'm unable to make out her words. He chuckles again, all the while gazing at me intently.

As they get up, he casually tosses a few bills onto the black lacquer table, but before they depart, he pauses in front of me, peering directly into my sunglasses.

"Wait for me. I need to walk her out." He touches my hand, and my stomach somersaults. Why does he have to be so damn handsome? Then he lifts one finger. "There's something I need to say."

A fishy aroma lingers in the air, mingling with a sharp tang of saltwater. I'm left standing in the middle of a restaurant—breathing heavy.

I grab my to-go box, instruct the bartender to charge it to my tab, and discreetly slip out through the back exit towards my office. Snatching my tote bag from the hook, I search for my keys and wait until Mr. Worthington is heading back into the restaurant before I crouch down and creep towards my SUV.

My heart races like I've run a marathon. If he saw me, it will ruin my plan for my confrontation with him on camera. The stubborn asshole isn't scaring me with his legal threats.

I steer my SUV onto the dark highway. How is it possible that he appears even more attractive than he did while on the boat? I've done my research on Mr. Worthington. Okay, I've stalked him online. I came across a photo of him with his sister and best friend at what seems to be their engagement party, based on the caption.

I've stared at the image of him kissing his sister on her temple for hours and then one where he is laughing. He seems relaxed and happy—the same way he looks tonight.

When I return to my office, I receive a formal email about appearing on Spend a Day with a Billionaire, asking if I was still interested. I reply immediately.

Can't Wait.

My lawyer warns me not to call out Triple W Communications on national television, or they may actually sue me. As of now, I don't know whether my segment will be live or taped or both.

I knock off early from work since the next excursion has rescheduled due to a torrential downpour. I twist off the top to a ten-dollar bottle of rosé and listen to the rain. The sound of rain splashing on the streets and pelleting the windows relaxes me. I get comfortable in the oversized ivory chair, careful not to spill the wine when my cell phone rings.

"Hello."

"Ms. Darling, this is Jaclyn, producer of the Spend a Day with Winslow Worthington. We have you scheduled on your preferred date next week. Where would you like us to meet first before he shadows you on your job?"

I twist my mouth over to one side, never having thought of him following me around. Not that it matters, he's going to cut and run as soon as I reveal it's his company badgering me.

"There's a coffee truck on Shore and West 56th called Cups Crumbs. I'll be there at nine a.m."

"Fantastic. I hope you're looking forward to spending the day with Mr. Worthington. He's anxious to help you with your legal situation," Jaclyn says with a little upswing in her voice.

"I'm sure he'll be thrilled. Thanks for calling."

I swirl the wine in my mouth like it's the best money can buy and lay my head back. Mr. Worthington is taking root under my skin. He was so comfortable with the older lady; it was as if the film crew wasn't even there. Heck, I hadn't noticed them either. I was so intrigued by their interaction.

The local news gives the lineup for the upcoming segments, and the anchorman grabs my attention. "Billionaire CEO hangs out with local truck driver."

I lean on one hip with my feet angled and tucked under my ass while I watch the weather, the sports, and the stories with local flavor.

The intro to the segment is a woman talking over the image.

"Over the next five weeks, we're going to bring you stories of local people doing their jobs with a billionaire leaning over their shoulder. You decide if he's authentic and not the brash, condescending, rich man portrayed all over social media."

The camera shifts its focus to the truck driver and her lunch meeting with Mr. Worthington as they talk at the marina. He leans in attentively, displaying engaged body language as she speaks. Not once does he roll his eyes, glance at his watch, or check his phone.

It switches to a scene with him actively assisting in delivering goods, despite being dressed in a suit, even going so far as to loosen his tie. His biceps tense beneath the fabric of his button-down shirt as he unloads her truck.

I raise my glass in a toast, eager to witness those muscles up close.

The television station cuts to a commercial, so I change to the channel Triple W owns, and they're finishing the segment by showing him asking her if she wants to risk the one million for a shot at ten. She doesn't even think about it and hugs him.

The reporter asks Margie, "How does it feel to have one million dollars?"

"Well, I have to pay off my debts, then I'm going to buy my first house… on my own. Thanks to Winslow."

"Did he say you could call him Winslow?"

"I didn't ask. He's thirty something, so he has to respect his elders." She glances over her shoulder at the sinfully handsome man before continuing, "And he does. He's a special man."

He embraces her, then follows with a kiss on her cheek. "Thanks, Margie."

My shoulders droop with a mix of surprise and vulnerability. There's something about a man who shows kindness towards the elderly that always gets to me. It reminds me of how my dad used to be with his own mother, and the memories tug at my heartstrings.

Is it possible to admire someone and hate them at the same time for their arrogance with me?

I grab the paperback of the enemies-to-lovers romance and instead of delving further into it, I go to parts I've highlighted where the heroine is clearly struggling with her emotions.

"How can a man who makes me feel so much disdain also make me want to strip off his clothes and worship every inch of him?"

My thoughts exactly.