Free The Secret Heiress by Judith Gould Page B

hers. “That’s the birthday girl,” she said. “My boss.”
    “ She’s your boss?” Frans said with surprise.
    “Yes. Stunning, isn’t she?”
    Frans hugged her to him. “Not half as beautiful as you are, Bianca.”
    Bianca felt that familiar frisson of excitement that these words caused, but before she could respond, a voice interrupted them.
    “Bianca. How are you?” Adrian asked.
    “Oh, hi,” she said. “I saw you at a distance, but never got close enough to say hello.”
    Adrian’s gaze shifted from her to Frans and back again. “I take it this is your date?”
    Bianca nodded. “Adrian, I’d like you to meet Frans. Frans, Adrian Single. He’s one of my bosses at PPHL.”
    Adrian and Frans shook hands. “I hope you’re having a good time, Frans,” he said.
    “Oh, yes,” Frans replied, casting Bianca an adoring glance. “I always have a good time with her.”
    “I see,” Adrian said with a smile.
    “Can you keep a secret?” Bianca asked him.
    “You know I can,” Adrian replied.
    “Frans and I are engaged,” she said.
    “That’s wonderful news, sweetheart,” he said. He kissed her cheek, then clapped Frans on the back. “You’re a lucky man.”
    “I know,” Frans said, all smiles.
    “I’m so happy for you both,” Adrian said.
    “I haven’t told my father yet,” Bianca said, “so please don’t say anything, Adrian.”
    “You know I wouldn’t do that. I’m sworn to secrecy, so I won’t tell a soul. But I’ll tell you what.”
    “What?” she asked.
    He chuckled. “The way you two are acting, everybody’s going to know, so you’d better tell him soon.”
    “Is it that obvious?” she said with a laugh.
    Adrian nodded. “You can hardly keep your hands off each other.”
    Frans and Bianca laughed. “It’s true,” Frans said. “We’re hopelessly in love.”
    “That’s wonderful,” Adrian said. He took a sip of his drink. “I’d better mingle, so I’ll see you later.”
    Bianca hadn’t planned on springing her news to her father tonight, but she felt emboldened by Adrian’s reaction. He’d been genuinely pleased, she thought, and hadn’t acted surprised at their difference in age. It hadn’t seemed to matter at all.
    “Why don’t we go see my father?” Bianca said, turning to Frans. “I want to introduce you.”
    “Okay,” Frans replied.
    Bianca led the way through the crowd, twisting this way and that to where she’d last seen her father talking with Sugar. When they finally reached him, Angelo was sitting at a table, nursing a drink. At the sight of his daughter, he rose to his feet.
    “Bianca, cara, ” he said, kissing each of her cheeks. “I wondered where you were.”
    “Dad,” she said, “I want you to meet someone.” She made the introductions and noticed the assessment her father’s eagle eyes made of Frans. He was appalled by the young man’s lack of a shirt, his sweat-drenched chest, low-rise pants, tribal tattoos, and long hair. She was thankful that Frans had a firm handshake, despite his casual, devil-may-care posture.
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Frans said enthusiastically.
    “A pleasure to meet you, too,” Angelo Coveri replied tightly.
    “Frans, do you mind if I have a few words alone with my father?” Bianca asked.
    “No, of course not,” he said, grinning. “I’ll take a stroll. See you at the bar inside?”
    “Great,” Bianca said.
    When Frans was out of earshot, Angelo Coveri tapped the table with a demanding finger. “Who is he? Some of the Eurotrash Niki hangs around with?”
    “No, no,” Bianca said. Oh, God, she thought. This is not going to be easy. “Frans is one of the top models in New York. He’s in a campaign the PPHL fashion division’s launching.”
    “The same thing if you ask me,” Angelo Coveri said. “Where’s he from?”
    “Germany.”
    “Eurotrash, just like I thought.”
    “Dad!” she exclaimed. “You don’t even know him.”
    “I know enough already,” he said