BooksBarbecue
Back First Comes Love
Chapters (92)
  1. First
  2. Love Connection
  3. Zero
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. One Month Later
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Six Months Later
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-one
  27. Twenty-two
  28. Twenty-three
  29. Twenty-four
  30. Six Months Later
  31. Twenty-five
  32. Twenty-six
  33. Twenty-seven
  34. Twenty-eight
  35. Twenty-nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-one
  38. Thirty-two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. I Have Never
  41. One
  42. Two
  43. Three
  44. Four
  45. Five
  46. Six
  47. Seven
  48. Eight
  49. Nine
  50. Ten
  51. Eleven
  52. Twelve
  53. Thirteen
  54. Fourteen
  55. Fifteen
  56. Sixteen
  57. Seventeen
  58. Eighteen
  59. Nineteen
  60. Twenty
  61. Twenty-one
  62. Twenty-two
  63. A Christmas Date
  64. One
  65. Two
  66. Three
  67. Four
  68. Five
  69. Six
  70. Seven
  71. Eight
  72. Nine
  73. Ten
  74. Eleven
  75. Twelve
  76. Thirteen
  77. Fourteen
  78. Fifteen
  79. Sixteen
  80. Seventeen
  81. Eighteen
  82. Nineteen
  83. Twenty
  84. Twenty-one
  85. Twenty-two
  86. Note from the Author
  87. Sneak Peek – To the Stars and Back
  88. Two
  89. Three
  90. Four
  91. Also by Camilla Isley
  92. About the Author

Then it hits me. That’s how James Bond gets all his women. It’s the sporty British car. Or the speed. The adrenaline? Oh, who am I kidding! It’s the pilot—and his stupidly sexy forearms!

“Enjoying the ride?” said pilot asks.

“More wondering if I’m going to make it home in one piece.” I sulk. “You always drive like this?”

“I can slow down if it bothers you.”

Please don’t. “Yeah, thank you.”

“Oooooooooooooooowhoo,” Chevron howls her remonstrations at the reduction in speed.

Richard laughs. “At least one of my girls knows how driving should be done.”

His girls? How am I one of his girls? Does he mean one of the girls in his car?

I spend the rest of the ride overanalyzing Richard’s choice of possessive pronoun and don’t even realize when he pulls onto my street.

“Sure you don’t want company?” Richard asks.

“No, thanks. As I said, my source is skittish.”

“Look at you, already protecting your sources. Next thing I know, you’ll go for a Pulitzer.”

I roll my eyes and exit the car, whistling for Chevron to follow me. When she jumps off, I secure her leash and lean my head back inside. “Thank you for the ride.” Richard is struggling to look me in the eye, and in the eye only, given how deep the neckline of my top is in this position. “See you in the morning.”

“Morning. Good night, I mean,” he says, choked.

With a smile, I close the door. Richard waits for me to get inside before he burns rubber.

I barely have time to let Chevron in, say, “Hi,” to Nikki, and dash out again. I ignore my self-imposed austerity regime and take a cab uptown. The nude heels are too high to walk comfortably in, and I’m too lazy to take the subway.

My phone pings halfway through the ride. It’s a series of messages from Melanie, the ex-colleague who supposedly had the dirt on the Vanderbilts. I hope the office gossip is reliable. If after all my boasting to Richard I show up empty-handed, I’ll die of shame. And I can’t stand the thought of Aurora beating me once again, even if she isn’t aware that we’ve engaged in a new fight.

I won’t be there tonight

The person you need to talk to is waiting at table 18

Please do not contact me again

I almost expect to receive a follow-up, “your phone will self-destruct in ten seconds” message, but that’s it. Good thing I didn’t accept Richard’s offer to come along. I don’t even know who I’m meeting.