My First Love Affair: A Bancroft Billionaire Brothers Novel #3 Page 3

  I stripped down to my underwear once again. I hated sleeping with clothes on. I flopped onto the bed and let my eyes drift closed. I was beat. I did a little self-reflection while I waited for sleep to take me under. The drinking was a symptom. A symptom of my tendency to get a little stir-crazy. I’d been in the city for a couple of months after traveling around Europe for a year. Being home was like wearing a suit that was too small. It made me itchy to strip it off. I loved the city, but it was too close to home.

  My family was all around the city. New York was big, but it wasn’t big enough for all of us. Although, the likelihood of me running into one of my brothers in my usual hangouts was pretty nominal. I didn’t think Grayson or Jack were going to be stepping foot in a biker bar—unless they were looking to get their stuffy asses kicked.

  I smiled as I drifted off to sleep, planning my next adventure somewhere far away from the city.

  Chapter 4

  Adelaide

  Thankfully, at five o’clock, business all but stopped. It gave me time to take care of my cleaning duties, count down the till and be ready to walk out the door right at six. I was looking forward to a night out with friends, especially after the crazy day. I hated feeling rushed, but it was truly how I spent most of my days—rushing around. I always felt like I was racing against a clock. Even when I was grocery shopping, I found myself in this weird marathon of trying to get as much as I could in the least amount of time. I probably should have been born a Tasmanian Devil or a Road Runner.

  I did a quick look around the shop, shutting off lights, making sure all the fridge doors were closed tight and then I set the alarm. I dashed out the door, double-checking that it was locked before setting off down the sidewalk at a fast clip. It usually took me about ten minutes to make my way home. My apartment was four blocks away. I had purposely chosen where I lived based on my business location.

  In the early days, I hadn’t had the money to pay rent and a car payment, and I was not going to live in my car. Living close to work meant I could always walk. I didn’t need a car. It was New York, which meant there was everything I needed on every block. For the few occasions I had to go outside of my little neighborhood, the subway was just a block over. It was why I loved living in the city—I didn’t need my own wheels.

  I dashed inside my second-floor apartment, which was small and cramped, but it worked for me. It wasn’t posh and all my furniture was secondhand, but it was all mine, bought and paid for. It was comfortable and considering I hardly spent any time in the place, I didn’t need a huge space. I tossed my jacket over the back of the couch, my purse landing on my tiny kitchen table. I would never be accused of keeping an overly clean apartment. It was clean, but not tidy. I nearly tripped over my tennis shoes as I made my way into my bedroom.

  “Damn it,” I grumbled, cursing my own poor housekeeping skills.

  I lifted my arm, smelling my pits, relieved to find my deodorant had held strong. I didn’t stink, but I did have a coffee aroma clinging to me. I always did. I grimaced checking the time. It was ten after six. I didn’t have time to shower. I considered texting Deanna and telling her I would be about thirty minutes late but stopped myself. If I showered, I’d have to dry my hair and that would make me closer to an hour late.

  I stripped off my dirty shirt and slacks, dropping them to the floor as I walked into my bathroom, dampening a washcloth and hitting the high spots. I put on a clean bra and panties before rummaging through my drawers and finding my favorite pair of dark jeans. They were tight and fit me like a glove. Before putting on a shirt, I spritzed myself with a spicy, dangerous perfume that I only wore for special occasions. I pulled out my sheer lace black shirt that always made me feel sexy. It gave a little hint of the black lacy bra I had put on. Then it was my black booties with a sensible heel. I was usually in the same black pants and white shirt at least six days a week. It was fun to step into that more dangerous side that rarely got to come out and play. Adulting meant I had to be responsible, and responsibility took a lot of time and energy.

  I put on a fresh face of makeup, playing up my eyes with lots of dark-brown eyeshadow before adding several coats of mascara. I added a smear of clear gloss over my lips, not wanting to distract from my eyes. I took a look in the mirror, liked what I saw, and grabbed my leather jacket before racing out to catch a cab. I was going to be a few minutes late. There was no helping it.

  I had never actually been to Winnie’s. I was looking forward to something new. I didn’t get out often, but when I did, it usually ended up being the same old neighborhood bar we always went to. It was in my comfort zone and I never had to worry about getting a ride home. Unfortunately, it was usually the same people and the same men. None of them appealed to me. I had tried to date a few of them but it didn’t click. Deanna had told me a hundred times I would never find a man if I kept swimming in the same pool. I didn’t have time to try out new pools.

  The cab stopped in front of the restaurant. When I opened the heavy wood door, I was overwhelmed with the smell of garlic, cheese, and the familiar scent of onion rings. It had a bit of an Applebee’s vibe, trendy but casual, with a lot of twentysomethings mingling at the bar, and almost all the tables filled. I could hear music, something kind of upbeat and jazzy.

  “Hi,” I greeted the hostess. “I’m looking for the Chevaults,” I said.

  She nodded. “Yes, party of four. Right this way,” she said, taking me to the table where Deanna and Dalton were already sitting.

  The party of four thing didn’t quite register. I assumed she was confused or possibly Dalton had brought a date. That would be fun. Dalton’s taste in women had always been questionable in my opinion. Not just my opinion, Deanna agreed with me.

  “You made it,” Deanna said. “I thought you were going to stand me up.”

  “Sorry. I hurried as fast as I could. We stayed busy all day, right up until we closed,” I explained.

  I sat down, noticing Dalton was looking at me as if he were almost afraid. I looked at Deanna, wondering what the hell was going on. I suddenly felt like a massive third wheel.

  “You didn’t tell me Addy was coming,” he said, turning to look at his sister, his face twisted in fear.

  “I’m sorry. If you two want to catch up, I can leave you alone,” I offered, really feeling like I had intruded on something.

  He shook his head. “No, no. I’m happy you’re here. I’ve missed you. But, um, I should warn you, Mason is supposed to be meeting me here too. He’s fifteen minutes late, so maybe he changed his mind.”

  “Mason Bancroft?” I said, my lip curling with disgust.

  He nodded, looking nervous. “Yes. Sorry. I know the two of you don’t get along. I don’t really know why. I mean, he’s not that bad—”

  I held up my hand, stopping him. “He is that bad and worse. He’s a pig. I hate the way he looks at me. I hate the way he talks. I hate everything about him!”

  “Dalton.” Deanna hissed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You don’t usually have a problem with him. I didn’t know Addy was coming.” He snarled, and I got the feeling they forgot I was in the room.

  “You could have told me,” Deanna shot back.

  “If you want to split, I won’t take it personally,” Dalton said, his voice apologetic.

  I grimaced, turning to look at Deanna. She was glaring at her brother. “I’m so going to kick your ass for this. We need to have better communication.”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “I invited him last night. We usually get together when I get back into town. You know that. It’s never been an issue before.”

  “Yes, but tonight?” She hissed.

  He wrinkled his nose. “Sorry.”

  Deanna looked at me. “Don’t leave me alone with them. You said you wanted to have a night out. We can still have fun. Just ignore him.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You know he makes me crazy.”

  “He’s not that bad. You just have to give him a chance,”
Dalton said.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Give him a chance? How many chances does one person get? He’s a thirtysomething-year-old man living like he’s twenty. He lives with no boundaries.”

  “That’s what makes him a blast to be around. He doesn’t care what anyone else thinks about him,” Dalton reasoned.

  “He’s rude and obnoxious and acts like he is God’s gift to women,” I snapped.

  “He’s not always bad,” Deanna said defending the guy.

  I turned my glare to her. “He walks around, rich as can be, without ever having had to work a day in his life and blows his money like he has an endless pile.”

  Dalton chuckled. “It is a very large pile, and I happen to know his money manager. The pile is only going to keep growing with the way he invests it, even with Mason buying anything he wants.”

  “Well it isn’t fair. How does a guy like that get a windfall?” I pouted.

  “His godmother loved him,” Dalton stated.

  “Why?” I said with a sneer.

  “Addy, that’s not nice,” Deanna scolded me.

  “Seriously? I see nothing redeeming about the man. He’s always been an asshole to me,” I said.

  “Look, I know the two of you have never liked each other, and I would never want you to be in an uncomfortable situation. Will you stay for one drink? Then you can go. Neither of us will hold it against you,” Deanna asked.

  I sighed. I had gotten dressed up and painted on some serious eye makeup. I wanted to have a drink. There was always the chance he wouldn’t show up. He wasn’t known for his reliability. He was like the wind, blowing in when he wanted and blowing out just as fast.

  “I’ll stay for one drink, but don’t expect me to be nice to him,” I grumbled.

  “Let’s get you a drink, something strong to help relax your nerves,” Deanna said, putting up a hand to wave the waitress over.

  “A long island. I want all the liquor,” I said dryly.

  I ordered my drink, anxious to get it down and get the hell out of the restaurant before Mason showed. The guy had always been so rude to me. He disliked me about as much as I disliked him. We were fire and ice, oil and water. Whenever we got close to each other, things were explosive and not in a good way. He grated on my nerves. He was arrogant without even trying. It just oozed out of his pores like a sickening green slime.

  The waitress delivered my drink and I quickly took my first long drink. I needed alcohol to deal with Mason. My left eye involuntary squinted closed, the drink was strong. Hell, I’d probably get a buzz from the one drink.

  Dalton and Deanna looked at me, both of them had looks of concern on their faces. I sucked on the drink once again. In the distance, I could hear the sound of a motorcycle. I groaned, shaking my head. “He’s here. Just when I thought he was going to be a no-show.”

  “Sorry,” Dalton said again.

  I ignored him, focusing on getting my drink down the hatch. The sooner I finished it, the sooner I could leave and get away from Mason Bancroft and his arrogance. I shuddered at the thought of having to sit across from him and try to make small talk. I was going to ignore him as I usually tried to do. It was so hard to do. His presence just kind of hogged all the air in the room. It was hard to look away even though I wanted to ignore him.

  Chapter 5

  Mason

  I had slept a lot later than I had intended. When I woke up, it was almost seven. I rolled out of bed, pulled on my jeans, and decided my shirt wasn’t too terribly wrinkled. It would work for a few drinks at an uptight bar. It wasn’t like a wrinkled shirt was going to be the part that set people off. I splashed some cold water on my face before brushing my teeth. I might look like a scrub, but I didn’t have to smell like one.

  “Alexa, what’s the temperature?” I asked aloud.

  Another part of my life that didn’t quite fit in with my biker lifestyle was my Alexa. I wasn’t sure how people functioned without one. Now, when I was out on the open road, I didn’t want a cell phone or any other technology tether, but at home, I needed my luxuries.

  I listened to the weather and decided I could do without my jacket. It’d be a cool ride home, but I liked it brisk. I grabbed my helmet and headed for the door. I was running late. I was heading Uptown which meant there would be traffic. Dalton would expect me to be late. I sat at a light, a woman in the back of a taxi looked at me as if she were afraid I was going to smash the window and jump her. She wasn’t my type.

  I roared up the street, found the restaurant Dalton asked me to meet him at, parked my bike, removed my helmet, and tucked it under my arm as I walked inside. I saw the looks of the others waiting for tables. It was looks of disgust, irritation, and occasionally fear. People were quick to judge based on appearance. It was rude. Unfortunately, I wasn’t any better. I’d take one look at a woman and immediately decide who and what she was. To be fair, I tended to be right.

  I pretended I didn’t notice the dirty looks or when everyone would stare at me. I always noticed the looks. I wasn’t a moron. Another wrong assumption people also made of me. They assumed I must be an uneducated ruffian who lived in a flop house and never showered. People saw me and instinctively took a wide berth around me, avoiding getting too close. At times, it was a little isolating, which is exactly why I did it. I had decided long ago I disliked most people in general. I pulled open the door, cringing when I saw the environment.

  The young woman standing at the little podium stared at me, her eyes roaming over my body before coming back to meet mine again. I raised an eyebrow. She was pretty but couldn’t be more than twenty-one.

  “I’m looking for a friend,” I said, holding her eyes.

  “Oh, uh, yeah, um, who?” she stammered.

  I grinned, loving that I could trip up what appeared to be a daddy’s girl. She had that sweet, innocent thing going for her. It was cute, but absolutely not my style. “Chevault.”

  “Oh, yes, um, yeah,” she said, her face covered with a pretty pink blush.

  I walked behind her, noticing the way the other diners were staring at me. It was a warm night and I had left the leathers at home. My short-sleeved shirt showed off all my tats. I saw the way the men looked at me … and the women. They were looking at me with a mixture of fear and desire. I noticed Dalton first. He was sitting at a table, facing two women.

  I grinned, recognizing the backs of the heads. Oh, this was going to be a fun night. Dalton got to his feet. I reached out, shaking his hand before he pulled me in for a bear hug, slapping me on the back once. “It’s good to see you, man.”

  “You too.”

  Deanna got up from her seat and came around to give me a big hug. I hugged her back. She was the sister I never had. “I’ve missed you,” she said.

  “I’ve missed you as well. Sorry I haven’t been around. You been okay?” I asked her.

  “I’ve been great. Don’t stay away so long next time,” she chided me.

  “I won’t.”

  I moved around to take the seat next to Dalton, facing Deanna. I looked over at Adelaide. I could never understand how she and Deanna were such good friends. Deanna was sweet and funny and a really good person. Her snotty little friend was stuck up and always looking down her nose at me. We had never gotten along. She was an annoying, obnoxious woman, and I was very glad I didn’t have to spend much time with her these days.

  She sneered at me, her pretty, full lips wrapped around the straw in her drink. Sucking as she stared at me. “You look as sour as ever,” I said with a laugh.

  She rolled her eyes and looked away. That only made me laugh more. A waitress appeared, standing close enough to me to rub against my arm. I looked up at her and offered a smile. “Can I get a beer?”

  “Sure. What about the rest of you?” she cooed.

  Everyone ordered another drink, except Adelaide. “No thanks. I’ll be leaving soon.”

  “Good,” I mumbled, earning a look from her.

  “Actually, I’ll have another long isla
nd,” she said, slurping the bottom of her drink.

  I smirked. “Good choice. That should get you plastered.”

  “If I’m going to sit here, I’m going to need a lot more than that one drink,” she snapped.

  “That would be your second. You won’t be able to walk if you finish it,” I said dryly.

  “We’ll see about that,” she retorted.

  “How was your trip?” I asked Dalton, ignoring the woman.

  “Good. Busy. Got a lot of new contracts, though, so I expect a big, fat bonus,” he said with a wink.

  “Does that mean you’re buying?” Deanna teased.

  Adelaide automatically looked at me, one of her perfectly sculpted brows arched. “I would assume the trust fund baby would buy.”

  “You know what they say about assuming. Of course, in your case, you can’t help but be an ass,” I told her.

  Her mouth dropped open. “Why are you such a dick? Were you born that way?”

  I shrugged. “Probably.”

  She rolled her eyes, slurping the bottom of her drink loudly. “In some circles, that’s considered rude.”

  “I doubt it’s rude in your circles. Don’t you belch and smash beer cans against your head?” she replied.

  I grinned. “Only the toughest of us.”

  “How’s the coffee shop going?” Dalton asked her, clearly trying to diffuse the tension between us.

  I took advantage of her being distracted to really look at her. She was gorgeous. Her strawberry-blond hair was cut in a sharp, long bob, wild and untamed with the help of some hair product I imagined. I like the leather-and-lace thing she had going on. It was hot. She’d blend in pretty well in the bars I hung out in. I inwardly scoffed. She would never deign to step foot inside a biker bar. She’d be worried she’d get cooties or some shit. If she looked at anyone with that haughty sneer on her face, she would get her ass handed to her.