Page 2 of Her Bachelor Cowboy Billionaire

Jessica looked down at her watch. Nine-thirty.This is not how I planned to spend the day. I’ll have to get groceries and gas tomorrow. Hopefully that will be enough time to allot for this Mrs. Madison.“What do you want me to wear?”

“Your royal-blue top with the sweetheart neckline. And no glasses. I don’t know why you insist on wearing them, anyway. It’s not like you need them for anything.”

She plucked the glasses off and set them on the table. “I started wearing them in the corporate world. I had to do something to get those stupid men to quit hitting on me. I mean, it was like I had a neon sign on my forehead flashing.” She opened and closed her hands near her forehead, like a flashing sign.“Ask me out. Ask me out.” She lowered her hands. “I hated it, so I started wearing no makeup, putting my hair in a bun and wearing those glasses. It worked. The old sayingmen don’t make passes at girls who wear glassesis true, thank goodness, and it kept me safe for a while. I guess now it’s just habit.”

“Well, take them off to meet this Roark Sullivan.”

“Yes, Mama. I’ll take them off. I need to go now if I’m going to get home in time to make the appointment.” She hugged her mother again and left.

I wonder what kind of man I’ll meet. Could Mama be right, and I’ll meet my other half today?

But she wanted someone to see her as she was every day, not when she’s made up to go out dancing. So she wore a turtleneck,withher glasses and her hair pulled back.Let’s see if he still wants to date me now.

* * *

Roark’s corneroffice was on the thirty-second floor of his building. The sun shone in the windows brightly. Even with the tinted windows, he almost felt as if he were outside. He stood behind his mahogany desk and watched his fiancée’s beautiful face screw up into a frown before she shrieked.

The tall, thin blonde shot to her feet from one of the matching leather chairs in front of his desk and shook with rage before bursting into tears. “You can’t call off the engagement! Our wedding is only a month away.”

He stood with his arms to his sides, his hands on the credenza he leaned against. “You should have thought of that before using my London residence for a rendezvous with your lover two weeks ago.” He walked over to his desk and glanced at a sheet of paper. “Ben Green. No accounting for taste, I guess.”

As suddenly as they started, her tears dried. “I suppose you want your ring back?”

“No, actually, I don’t. Sell it. It’ll give you and Ben a nice little nest egg.”

Meredith picked up her purse and marched to the office door. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned and faced him. “You haven’t heard the last of me. Soon you’ll come crawling back. After all, we both know you’re afraid to be alone.” She stormed out the door.

Roark sighed and shook his head. He picked up his cell phone and punched in the numbers. “Trevor, meet me at the club in twenty minutes.” Roark listened to his best friend. “I don’t care if it’s only one-thirty in the afternoon. I need a good stiff drink…and a date for the gala tomorrow night.”Is Meredith right? Am I afraid to be alone? No, I’m not. I just need a date for an event. I can’t show up alone, I can’t deal with the questions—Where is Meredith? Did something happen? Each of the questions with a snide, all knowing gaze, as if they already know what happened.

Twenty minutes later, Roark sat in the bar of the Denver Country Club. He sat in a Queen Anne chair upholstered in a gold-colored material with Fleur-de-Lys embroidered on it. Two chairs and a small maple table formed quiet places for talks between members. These intimate settings were places where business deals, marriages and other such arrangements were often made over a snifter of brandy or glass of scotch.

Roark waited impatiently with a glass half full of Wild Turkey 101 bourbon in his hand.If Trevor doesn’t show up soon, they’ll have to wheel me on a hand truck to get me to the cab to take me home.He didn’t usually drink much and was upset with himself for letting Meredith’s words upset him. Was there truth in them? Is that why he was so angry?

Trevor Howard walked in and sat across from him. The tall, blond man wore a gray business suit. He loosened his tie. “Okay, I’ve come up with an idea.”

Roark smiled. “No—‘How are you?’ ‘What happened?’ No sympathy whatsoever?”

Trevor waved a hand in the air, dismissing his light rebuke. “You don’t need sympathy; you need congratulations on finally being rid of that bony, gold-digging witch. I thought you were going to do it two weeks ago when you found out she cheated.”

Roark chuckled. “You never hold back, do you?”You’ve said this to me many times during my relationship with Meredith. Why didn’t I listen sooner? I could have saved myself the feigned hysterics and maybe found someone I could really love and not just settle for.

Trevor grinned. “No. And I never will. That’s what you like about me.”

The bartender came over, a clean, white cloth folded over his arm. “What can I get for you, Mr. Howard? Your usual?”

“Yes, gin and tonic, Sam. Thanks.”

He returned with Trevor’s gin and tonic with a lime on the side of the glass. “Enjoy!”

Trevor took a sip, closed his eyes and sighed. “No one makes it quite like Sam and I can’t imagine what he does differently, but it’s always better than anyplace else. I thought you were getting loose from Meredith two weeks ago when you found out she cheated.”

“I was. I didn’t get around to it.”

“Now that you havefinallygotten rid of her, I want you to try something different. Your usual way of meeting someone through friends, like you did when I introduced you to Meredith or your mother’s friend’s granddaughter. They all might have come from wealth, but that doesn’t mean they are nice and so far, you haven’t had a nice one yet. I don’t know how you manage to find the gold digger every time.” Trevor shook his head and put up a hand. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. That’s all in the past. Your great aunt gave me this information for a matchmaker. A Mrs. Madison at Love International. You only have to do one thing. Go meet her. She requires all her clients to meet her, whether she’s found a match for them or not. I’ve taken care of the rest of it. You’re a business executive with no time for the dating rituals. She guarantees her matches the first time round. She says you’ll never be disappointed.”

Roark shook his head slowly and looked down into his own drink, which was more than half gone. “I don’t know. She sounds too good to be true.”

“Too bad. I already made the appointment, did the initial questionnaire online and attached your picture from the Kids with Cancer gala last year. Anyway, she’s come back with a match. Here she is…Jessica Kirby, romance novelist.” He pushed his phone toward Roark. “Definitely not someone I would have picked for you, but what do I know? I introduced you to Meredith.”