Free The Billionaire's Pledge by Rachel Bond Page A

serving spoon while staring at a picture on the wall, an abstract drawing she’d done in high school. She couldn’t watch TV. She couldn’t read a book. There was too much going on in her mind. She recalled Alicia’s words a few hours earlier: “ Eating a pint of ice cream while you stare at the wall? ”
    Jesus, she had been right after all.
    Ginger came over and curled up on her lap and started purring loudly. It was good to have a friend here, someone she could touch without fear or worry. She stroked Ginger’s back, rubbed her face, and ate some ice cream.
    After a few bites Savannah put down the ice cream and got out her cell phone and Zac’s business card. She grabbed her phone and started typing a text to Zac. 
    She typed: Sorry. 
    For a long time that was the only word on the screen. Savannah had always been one to apologize quickly after a fight. She’d been that way with Charles, too, as if everything were somehow her fault, even when he raged at her for reasons she could not understand. Her ability to say she was sorry with such ease was a blessing and a curse, because while it smoothed over arguments, some men would take advantage of it and never end up apologizing themselves or even realize that they had something to be sorry for.
    She decided that “Sorry” was all she was going to say about the craziness that had happened near the end of the evening. But she wanted to add her thoughts on the rest of the “date.” She hit the space key and started typing more.
    Thanks for a nice dinner, and for listening to me talk. And all the nice things you said. And even for the kiss. It was nice, too. Shoot me an email about the project.
    She stared at the message, re-reading it a few times before finally hitting Send. She set the phone down and picked up the ice cream and jammed the spoon in deep and hard to get a big mounded bite. As she placed it into her mouth she was shocked to hear her phone chime and vibrate—was Zac already writing back? She gobbled down the bite and picked up the phone.
    She read: I let you get too close to me. It was wrong. 
    Her heart fell. She had been hoping for something positive, something encouraging. Something like, “No need to be sorry, I loved the kiss.” Instead, she stared at the words. 
    I let you get too close to me. It was wrong. 
    She read them over and over.
    I let you get too close to me. It was wrong. 
    It was wrong. 
    WRONG.
    Her face flushed with anger. What was so wrong about it? Wrong with her ? Was a woman never supposed to come on to a man? Damn it, he’d led her on…he’d invited her to his house, bought her ice cream, made her dinner, flirted with her…he was the one who’d asked how she’d lost her virginity, for Christ’s sake! That wasn’t something you asked someone you didn’t want to sleep with. This guy was a real piece of work. Money and privilege had gone to his head.
    She could see he was typing more. His next message finally came in:
    It was a mistake. There are things about me I’m not ready to share. I can’t see you again anytime soon.
    A million possible responses flashed through her mind. Her whole body was raging with frustration. But finally she managed to calm down and sent back just an OK and returned to the ice cream. Except now it tasted like cold, creamy cardboard.

 
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 12
     
    The next day took on a strange feeling of unreality.
    As she went through the motions of a normal day, Savannah couldn’t stop thinking about last night. Had all of that really happened? Had she really said those things to Zachary Cushman? Had she really touched him, kissed him, aroused him? Zachary Cushman , for Christ’s sake! He wasn’t just some random guy, he was the guy. It was like knowing she’d kissed the president, or a rock star, or one of the guys who started Google. It was a weird secret to have, and it didn’t seem real.
    She headed down to the shop, dreading the thought of seeing his Lamborghini