The Way to a Billionaire's Heart: Part Two: BWWM Interracial Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

away with more cash than was reasonable, considering what a lousy player I usually am.
    Mr. Klaus was a gracious loser, and impressed with my chutzpah. Our meeting went well, he was willing to support our new efforts to his stakeholders. And best of all, the meeting was short . By eight o’clock, I was texting with the PI, getting a location to catch Andrea.
    She’s having dinner at the Palm Pier. With a man, local chef, known douchebag. Their res is for 8:30. His text made me feel a bit sick in the pit of my stomach. Sure, she’d left D.C. with the impression that I was getting married, it’s to be expected that she’d move on. I’d just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. But maybe they were talking shop. Chef stuff.
    The Palm Pier was on the other side of Oranjestad. Even an aggressive driver would take nearly an hour to get there in the traffic the tournament had generated. I wanted to interrupt this date before it started, if I could.
    I went out to where my driver was waiting. “I need to get to The Palm Pier in thirty minutes. Can you do it?”
    He looked at his phone for the time and shook his head. “Sorry boss, even if I lay on my horn it’ll take at least 45. Only way around this mess is helicopter or boat.”
    Boat. Of course. “Do you know anyone on this side of the city with a boat I can use?”
    “No sir, I can make some calls, though.”
    “No time. Thanks. You can go.” I sprinted to the back of the casino where yachts were moored, awaiting their owners. All too big, too unwieldy to pull up to the pier. I jogged down the wooden path along the shore until I came to a young guy polishing his fishing boat. It wasn’t fancy, under 20 feet, just a couple of seats and a motor. But it would do.
    “Say, what did you pay for this boat?”
    The guy looked me over, standing there in a tuxedo, holding a cooking pan. Clearly rich, probably crazy. “Ten thousand.”
    A lie. If he’d paid more than five, he’d been ripped off. But what did I care. “I’ll give you twenty, cash, right now.”
    He grinned. “Sold. You know how to drive it?”
    “Of course.” I unrolled the cash from the poker game. His eyes were enormous as I handed it over. “Thanks. You drive a hard bargain.”
    I took the key, climbed aboard, and started the motor. Once well off shore, I gunned it. Time to go get my girl.

Andrea
    I was awake well before Kiera the next day. I knew she was in the room because I’d seen her shoes and bag. But I suspected the lanky local was in there with her, so I just crept out silently after having a lousy cup of coffee from the in-room maker.
    As I headed out for my morning float in the ocean, the sun felt good on my skin. I’ve never been a sun-worshipper, but here, I just wanted to stretch out in it, let it soak in. Or maybe I was just really hungover. Well, no maybe about it. My head was pounding , but the sun felt good and as I waded in, the water felt cleansing.
    I was in the water almost a full minute before I started thinking about Walker. Dammit. I had the vague sense of a promise broken. I tried to push him out by recalling the details of my time with Dylan. Replace dark hair with light, green eyes with grey. Tailored suit with rayon Hawaiian print shirt. Italian leather with flip flops…It wasn’t working. And that was just on the superficial level.
    I was clearing my head by trying to think of what I would cook if I were a chef here when I saw Kiera coming down the beach. I waved my arms so she’d see where I was.
    I paddled in toward shore to meet her.
    “Hey there, have a good night?”
    “Shhh…ow, my head.” Kiera winced as she waded out.
    “I hear you. Three Advil and a gallon of water later and my head is still pounding. What was in those drinks?”
    “Kevin says it’s the shitty local rum.”
    “Kevin? Local guy? Did you let him speak English or are you fluent in Papiamento now?”
    “I let him speak English this morning.” She gave me her bad girl grin. “Just before I