The Accidental Elopement Read online

  He shrugged. “What can I say, I’m not terribly creative with my lies. I’ve always heard that when it comes to lying, the simpler the better.”

  Lucia’s eyes narrowed with mock suspicion. “And do you lie often?”

  He plucked a straw from its holder and tossed it at her. “Only for damsels in distress.”

  That had her outright laughing. “Is that what I am? Here I thought I was the answer to your prayers.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth she realized how flirtatious they sounded. Heat crept into her cheeks. “Because you’re looking for a waitress, I mean.”

  His eyes were filled with teasing laughter and she waited for a mocking retort. But instead he let her off easy. “Of course.”

  Lucia shifted in her seat. She shouldn’t be flirting with her new boss. But he was so close and his eyes seemed so kind. It had been a while since anyone had flirted with her. She had been surrounded by women and gay men at the internship, with no time to meet people during her precious off hours. And here was this man, this kind, sexy, gorgeous…nameless man.

  Lucia stuck out her hand. “Let’s try this again. Hi, I’m Lucia Jones.”

  He laughed but took her hand in his. “Nice to meet you, Lucia Jones. I’m Ryan Smith.”

  Chapter 2

  The jolt of electricity that shot through Ryan at the touch of her hand made it clear—he was in trouble. Serious trouble.

  Lucia’s head tilted to the side as she laughed up at him, her long black curls falling over one shoulder. “Seriously?” she said in that adorable Italian accent of hers. “You’re going with Smith?”

  Ryan shrugged and told another lie. “It’s the truth.”

  Her soft hand was still tucked in his, like it belonged there. He’d been drawn to this sexy siren from the moment she’d stepped foot in his bar—what red-blooded male wouldn’t be? And now that he was touching her, he didn’t want to let go.

  Oh yeah, this was trouble. He forced himself to release her hand and busied himself with wiping down the already clean bar.

  What had he been thinking? As if he wasn’t in enough danger working for the enemy under a false name, now he went and hired a girl who clearly had baggage of her own. And worse, she was hot. All of the women who worked at the hotel bar tended to be attractive, but this woman was smoldering—a sexy combination of curvaceous sex bomb and innocent girl next door. And she was looking at him now with those big brown eyes filled with gratitude.

  But really, what was he supposed to do? The girl had clearly been desperate. She looked about ready to faint from hunger or burst into tears. Ryan wasn’t exactly a saint but he couldn’t turn her out on the streets…besides, he really was desperate to fill a waitressing role.

  He needed a waitress and this woman clearly needed a job. It was that simple. He would make sure it stayed that simple. “So when can you start?”

  He glanced over in time to see her face light up, her wide eyes bright with excitement. Somehow her reaction seemed to have a direct correlation to his own level of happiness. Pride swept through him at being the one to make her excited. “I can start right away,” she said, jumping up out of her chair.

  “Whoa, tiger, I’ve got some paperwork to file and I have to get the okay from my boss—”

  Her expectant smile dropped instantly. “I thought I was hired.”

  “You are. But I have to run it by my bosses. They’ll have to meet you.” He watched the woman before him transform from an enthusiastic, upbeat new employee to a nervous, self-conscious runaway. If he didn’t know better he’d think that she was running away from something…or someone. She couldn’t really be a runaway….could she?

  He studied her now with the eye of a bartender and not just a man with blood in his veins. He would swear she was over eighteen but better safe than sorry. “How old are you?”

  Lucia’s nose scrunched up in confusion, which was answer enough. “Twenty-four. I told you that already.”

  Ryan moved from behind the bar and stood directly in front of her. She was telling the truth about her age, he didn’t doubt that, but he hadn’t imagined the change in her demeanor either. There was a wariness about her. That, along with the fact that she was lying about her identity could only mean she was on the run. But from what? Or who? He leaned against the bar so his eyes were level with his. “What are you so scared of?”

  Her lips curled up in a smile but it didn’t extend to her eyes. It was brilliant and dazzling and almost enough to throw him off track—but it was definitely forced.

  He watched as she thrust her shoulders back, her chin tilted up in stubborn defiance. “I’m not afraid of anything.” Her words were contradicted by the fear he saw in her eyes.

  He almost believed her. Almost. Most men would take one look at that dazzling smile and confident posture and take her word for it. But then most men weren’t living a lie. It took a liar to know liar, and this woman was hiding something, he would bet his life on it. The thought nagged at him and filled him with a frustrating unease. He wanted to help her but he couldn’t save a damsel in distress if she didn’t tell him the truth. Letting out a heavy sigh, he had to laugh at his own hypocrisy. Who was he to demand honesty from some woman he’d just met when his life was one giant lie?

  Letting her off the hook, he turned back to move behind the bar but a figure lurking near the host stand caught his eye. Despite his desire to shout at the man to get out of his bar, Ryan motioned to the man to stay where he was. Ryan stopped himself from cursing out loud. No need to drag this nice new waitress into his mess.

  One of the barbacks came out with a large platter of appetizers and Ryan took it from him, setting it in front of Lucia with a flourish. “Your lunch, madam.”

  Her laugh was light and sweet as she reached for a chicken finger and then a mozzarella stick, shoving them into her mouth so quickly he had to wonder how long it had been since she last ate. He muttered something about leaving her to eat in peace but he needn’t have bothered, she was too engrossed in her meal to even look up.

  Keeping a neutral expression on his face for the sake of the busboys and waitstaff who were setting up the tables for dinner, he walked over to the host stand where his older brother was leaning against the wall, texting someone on his phone.

  He cleared his throat to get his brother’s attention, swallowing down his resentment that his brother was checking up on him. Again. “What are you doing here, Billy?”

  Billy took his time finishing his text before looking up at him from below lowered eyebrows, fixing him with a familiar scowl of disapproval that he had come to hate. “The question is, what are you doing here?”

  Ryan let out the exasperated sigh he’d been holding in since he spotted his brother. They’d been over this countless times. It had been the same story from the moment he’d landed the job at Daniel Gladwell’s hotel. Yes, he was here to get vengeance for his family but his brother couldn’t seem to comprehend that getting close to the boss took time. It wasn’t like he could storm in Daniel’s office and demand payback. That was the route Billy and their mother had taken and it had gotten them nothing—well, nothing but restraining orders. This time they’d agreed to try it his way but Billy was too impatient and had never heard the word “subtle” so he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised the Billy couldn’t understand that getting close to the enemy and finding his weakness was a long game.

  Ryan glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to them and lowered his voice. “You’ve gotta get out of here. Someone might recognize you.”

  Billy shook his head. “The only person who could recognize me is Daniel and he’s not returning from Chicago until tomorrow.”

  Of course Billy knew that, he’d been the one to fill Ryan in on his latest trip. According to Billy’s source, who his brother refused to name, the ruthless businessman was in Chicago to buy a company out from underneath another sucker, just like he’d done to their father. Billy found the in
fo and he made sure Ryan knew every move Daniel made. He had to if he was going to infiltrate the tycoon’s inner circle.

  “Still,” Ryan said. “You can’t be seen lurking around here and talking to me. You look like a goddamn stalker.”

  Billy’s bloated face broke into a mocking smile and stood up straight so he was taller than Ryan. He was six years older than Ryan and even though they were both adults now, Billy still treated him like a little kid.

  “I don’t need a babysitter,” he added.

  Billy kept his voice low but his tone was hard. “I think you do. And so does Mom. We give you one little job and poor little Ryan can’t hack it.”

  Billy’s taunting tone had Ryan clenching his teeth to keep from losing his cool. “I told you, I just need time.”

  But Billy wasn’t listening, he was looking over Ryan’s shoulder to the bar. No, he was leering, and he didn’t have to look back to see that his brother was ogling Lucia. “You say you’re working on it but so far you’ve gotten nothing. And then I show up to see what kind of progress you made and find you flirting with some hot guest—”

  “She’s not a guest,” Ryan cut in, although that wasn’t the point and he knew it. “She works here.”

  Billy rolled his eyes. “Please. I can spot a rich chick a mile away. That girl screams entitled brat.”

  Ryan glanced back at the new waitress who was still devouring her plate of food. An ache slashed through his chest. His brother couldn’t drag her into this. She was innocent, defenseless. She had nothing to do with the bitter anger that fueled his family. Before he could come to her defense, his brother continued. “The point is, you’re slacking off.”

  Taking a deep breath, Ryan ordered himself to keep his cool. Losing his temper in front of the staff was a surefire way to gain unwanted attention. “I’m not slacking off,” he said through tight lips, “I’m playing the part. Do you really think anyone will buy my ‘Ryan Smith’ routine if all I do is ask questions and poke around in the offices?”

  Billy opened his mouth to protest but Ryan held up a hand to cut him off. “We agreed that I’m the one taking the risk here—I’m the one putting myself in the line of fire—so we do this my way.”

  Billy glared at Ryan’s hand until he let it drop. “Your way is taking too long. It’s time we move on to Plan B.”

  No. Hell no. The only reason he’d agreed to get involved with their revenge plans was to keep Billy and their mother from going too far. As their bitterness grew, their schemes grew more vindictive, more personal. If they did it Ryan’s way, Daniel would be the only one to pay. Not his family or his employees…just Daniel. The man who’d ruined their lives. “We agreed we’d try it my way first.” Ryan struggled to keep his voice neutral. “Daniel’s family shouldn’t have to pay for his crimes—not if there’s another way. I’ll find a way in and I’ll do whatever it takes to take him down. You have my word.”

  Billy studied him with beady eyes – their father’s eyes. The older Billy got, the more he resembled their dad. He’d inherited their father’s thinning hair, along with a body that was bloated from drinking. “Fine, but stop fawning over the chicks at your bar and keep your head in the game.”

  Ryan resisted the urge to defend himself once again. He wasn’t interested in “the chicks at his bar,” as Billy put it. He glanced over at Lucia. Seeing his brother was the perfect reminder of why he didn’t date—why he couldn’t date. He couldn’t drag anyone else into his family’s mess.

  He watched his brother walk away with relief. Whether he liked it or not, they were in this together. They had both suffered when Daniel bought out their father’s business, the business that was supposed to be their birthright. But brothers or not, they had little in common and having a shared goal did nothing to change that.

  He let all thoughts of Billy and Daniel and their longstanding feud fade away as he headed back to the bar where his new waitress had already scarfed down most of the contents of the sampler platter. It was hard to resist laughing out loud at her look of shame as she pushed the plate toward him when he returned. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I was really hungry.”

  He took stock of the two pieces of celery that were left on the ravaged plate. “I wasn’t that hungry anyways.” His stomach gave a low growl of protest. He was starving, actually, but he didn’t want to make her feel worse.

  Lucia toyed with her napkin. “So, when should I show up for my first day?”

  Ryan pretended to mull it over. He couldn’t have her starting tonight, not without getting the okay from his manager, but he hated to see her go. He watched her nibble on her lower lip, waiting for his answer when it dawned on him. He had a crush.

  Bloody hell. Just what he needed in his life. As if going undercover as a bartender at Daniel’s hotel wasn’t enough of a headache, he now had a crush on his new employee. A girl who had secrets of her own and no clue who he really was. Life had been complicated before but now, thanks to this hottie at his bar, he was playing with fire.

  To Lucia, he said, “Come back tomorrow, we’ll start your training at five.”

  * * * *

  Lucia was hit with a wave of jealousy when she returned to her temporary studio apartment in Brooklyn to find her roommate knee-deep in clothes as she attempted to shove the contents of her life into an oversized duffel bag.

  Gretchen glanced up when she walked in. “How’d it go? Did he give you the money?”

  Lucia pushed away the envy that threatened to drown her as she dropped onto the futon that doubled as the girls’ shared bed. She should be happy. Compared to this morning, things were looking up. She was staying in New York and that was something to celebrate. With that in mind, she forced a cheerful tone. “Better. I got a job!”

  Gretchen dropped down into a cross-legged sitting position facing Lucia. The two girls had met when Lucia joined Eleanor’s entourage for Fashion Week. Gretchen was trying to make a name for herself in the hair and makeup world just like she was attempting to establish herself as an up-and-coming designer. The two had formed an alliance when it became clear that they were both newbies with no money.

  Gretchen stared at her with wide eyes. “You got signed on with another designer? That’s amazing! Does that mean you’re coming to London with us?”

  Lucia’s smile faltered but she reminded herself once again that this was a good thing….maybe not the best possible scenario but it beat going home to her grandfather and worse, her ex-fiancé, admitting defeat.

  “No,” she said slowly. “Actually, I’ll be waitressing. At a hotel bar.”

  Gretchen seemed to deflate a bit but she did a decent job of hiding her disappointment. “Oh. Well, that’s….good. Right?”

  “Yes,” Lucia said a little too quickly. “It’s great. It means I can stay in New York.”

  Gretchen perked up. “You could take classes at FIT.”

  “Exactly.” Lucia could only imagine how expensive those classes were and after the end of this month, she would be paying full rent for the tiny studio. The classes would have to wait. But she could work on her own designs in her free time and maybe eventually she could save up for a class or two. Or maybe find an internship. Gretchen started folding a pile of clothes beside her while casting quick glances in Lucia’s direction.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  No. But she would figure it out, she promised herself. She’d come this far, she wouldn’t turn back now. Not when a hot bartender came to her rescue and gave her a chance to stay in NYC and pursue her dreams. She just needed time. Her grandfather hadn’t raised a quitter.

  Besides, Gretchen worrying about her from London wouldn’t help anything. So Lucia gave a decisive nod. “Positive.”

  Gretchen leaned back against the side of the bed with a sigh. “Why can’t we all just be filthy rich? Then you could not only come with us to London, but you could have a show of your own.”

  Lucia’s stomach sank. Sh
e hated that she’d been lying to her new friend since the moment they’d met. But then, how could she explain to Gretchen that she came from wealth…but walked away from it?

  Besides, what difference did it make? It wasn’t like she had the money now.

  “It takes more than just money to become a world-class designer,” Lucia said.

  Gretchen rolled her eyes. “Duh. It takes talent. Which you have. Even Eleanor said she thought you had what it takes to make it. And she never gives compliments.”

  Lucia grinned at her friend. Eleanor had said that and she’d replayed the famous designer’s words over and over in her mind. It had been exactly the boost of confidence she’d needed. Eleanor’s confidence had been a balm to her wounded pride after spending so many years defending her desire to go into the fashion industry, a profession her ex-fiancé had deemed superficial and her grandfather had relegated to a hobby.

  Gretchen dove back into her pile of clothes with a theatrical sigh. “Now if only you could get your hands on a couple hundred grand—you’d have it made.”

  Lucia laughed at her friend’s teasing but she couldn’t bring herself to look her in the eyes. She had that much money—actually she had far more than that—she just didn’t have access to it. If any of her new friends knew how much she was worth, would they still welcome her into their fold?

  She brushed the thought away. No use dwelling in what-ifs, that’s what Grandpa always said. The same Grandpa who was probably worried sick about her. Jack and Holly had given him an update and she’d sent the occasional email to let him know she was alive and well—but still, she knew him. He was probably taking out his worry on her little cousins, not letting them out of his sight for fear they might follow in her footsteps.

  “Hey, what came over you?” Gretchen asked. “I thought we were celebrating. You look like someone killed your cat.”

  Lucia frowned. “I don’t have a cat.”