Page 8 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

Simone was out first, poised and perfect. Conroy followed, muttering curses under his breath. I stepped out last, already shielding my face with one hand.

I hated this part.

Click-click. “Rhett! Over here!”

“Chef Voss, smile for the camera!”

“Who’s the woman with you?”

The media was always trying to pair me with a woman. Never mind the fact they had seen Simone a hundred times. They knew she was my assistant but that didn’t stop them from trying to see something that wasn’t there.

We moved through the chaos, up the steps, through the double doors. And just like that, the noise changed.

I stepped into the restaurant. It was nothing like my restaurant. The place was electric, bold, and ultra luxe with velvet furniture, crystal-dripping chandeliers, a glossy black marble dance floor, and a sprawling bar made of black glass and accentuated with jade accents.

It was so ostentatious.

It had been a while since I had been in the place, but I would not be surprised to find they had upgraded to gold toilets in the bathroom. It was a lot to take in. It all felt so bright. Maybe I was becoming a bit of a caveman but I preferred my darkness.

Every head in the room turned when we entered.

I could feel the eyes on me. They were sizing me up. Dissecting my appearance. And of course, there were plenty of women that were looking at me with more than just a general interest.

I was used to it. I didn’t hate that women found me attractive, but it did get to be a little obnoxious. They all wanted a chance to ride me. It did make me feel a bit like a carnival attraction. Women were more than willing to step right up and purchase tickets.

“Look. It’s him.”

“That’s Voss.”

“Who’s that woman with him?”

“Holy shit, it’s really him.”

I ignored them. Not because I didn’t hear. Because I always heard. I just didn’t let it matter.

Desman appeared, parting the crowd like the celebrity he was. He had a wide grin and his hand was already extended.

“Rhett,” he boomed, grabbing my hand and pulling me in for a firm shake and a clap on the back that nearly dislocated a shoulder. “So glad you could make it!”

“Of course.” I tried to smile and make it look natural, but I had a feeling it looked more like a crocodile smile. All teeth and no joy.

Desman looked to Conroy, nodded once, and then smiled for Simone. “Come on, they want pictures.”

He walked me to a group of what was apparently the media. Simone was beside me.

“Don’t even think about it,” she muttered under her breath.

“What?”

“You’re looking at them like they’re on the menu.”

That was the crocodile smile. Simone was the first one to make that comparison. She said it was my trademark and that was not a good thing.

“One picture,” I said.

She laughed because we both knew there was no way there would only be one picture.

Desman stepped forward. “I think you know Rhett Voss.”