Free The TROUBLE with BILLIONAIRES: Book 2 by Kristina Blake

to know Conrad. The maître d greeted him by name, and the waiter asked him if he wanted his usual. It made me wonder how many times he had brought a woman there.
    And then I reminded myself that I had no right to be jealous. Conrad could see whoever he wanted. It was none of my business.
    So why did I care so much?
    “I come here for business a lot,” he said as though he could read my mind. “They know me pretty well because of that.”
    I inclined my head slightly. “You must have a lot of business lunches.”
    “Reporters are like your mother probably told you men are: the way to their byline is through their stomachs.”
    “Not quite the old saying, but close enough.”
    Conrad smiled. “I try.”
    “Do you like what you do?”
    “Yes.” He studied me from across the table, his eyes taking in everything all at once. “My mother always told me I would either end up in sales, or I would end up in jail. PR is a lot like sales, but instead of selling a product, I sell the whole caboodle: the product, the company, and the brand.”
    “You sell an ideal.”
    “I sell a lot of things, depending on what the client wants. Besides Cepheus, I have dozens of clients, some who do some pretty nasty things, but my crew and I have the world convinced they could never do any wrong.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like the lawyer who represented that serial killer last fall? His client list dwindled after the trial until my crew and I were able to convince people that he was a humanitarian who took the case because of his deep Christian beliefs instead of the fact that the guy’s family had deep pockets and he thought he could make a fortune off of writing a book afterward.”
    “He’s not a Christian?”
    Conrad shrugged. “He goes to church every weekend now.”
    I shook my head. “But how is that not perpetuating a lie?”
    “Nothing is black and white, Mellissa.”
    The waiter brought our food. I picked up a fry and popped it into my mouth while Conrad cut into his steak. The waiter seemed pleased that Conrad was pleased with the cook, promising to inform the chef of his satisfaction.
    “They really like you here.”
    “I helped them out last year when someone claimed on one of those websites that the food caused him food poisoning. I spun it for them, for free, and they’ve been really gracious ever since.”
    “Free PR. Can’t beat that.”
    Conrad shrugged. “I didn’t do it for my company. I did it because I like this place and I didn’t want to see it close like so many other places have done recently.”
    “A PR prince with a heart. That must be rare.”
    “Unique. You will find that a lot of things about me are unique.”
    “Yeah? What else?”
    Conrad looked up at the ceiling as though he were searching for the answer there. And then he said, “Well,” drawing it out long and slow, “I don’t like long walks on the beach or walking in the rain. In fact, I don’t particularly like anything that has to do with water unless I’m bathing or swimming.”
    I laughed. Wasn’t Annie just complaining the other day about guys who all say that on their online dating profiles? And I agreed with her, wholeheartedly.
    “And I don’t like piña coladas, but I like a good margarita when I have fajitas.”
    “What about strawberry daiquiris? I really like strawberry daiquiris.”
    “Yeah?” He picked up a piece of his steak and considered it for a minute. “Don’t really like fruity drinks. But I like a good wine.”
    “Me too. But I guess you already know that.”
    His eyes met mine, and I could almost read his thoughts. I could tell that he was remembering what happened when I drank a few too many glasses of wine during our poker game. I felt the blush that threatened to spread from my scalp to my toes. I turned my attention back to my baby back ribs, the meat so tender it fell from the bones when I pressed my finger against it.
    “Do you like long walks on the beach?”
    I shook my head. “All that