The Billionaire Date by Leigh Michaels Read Free Book Online Page B

him to take a chance on having to spend an evening with a woman who didn’t meet his standards. But if he refused...
    He could still hurt Tryad, she reflected. Unless Kit could manipulate him into making that refusal so publicly, so blatantly, so unreasonably that it would ruin his credibility where she and Tryad were concerned.
    Kit mopped up the spill and drank her coffee without tasting it while she plotted the most effective way to embarrass Jarrett Webster in public.
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    The Englin Hotel was one of the city’s oldest and grandest, and Kit had always thought the baroque main ballroom one of the most beautiful in existence. It bore no resemblance to the sterile meeting rooms of more modern hotels. With its cream and gold walls and the hand-painted clouds and cupids on the lofty arched ceiling, this was a room full of elegance.
    It was wasted on the typical dull awards banquet, Kit thought. The room should be reserved for grand balls. It seemed to cry out for hoopskirts and masks, feathers and fans, not the staid dark business suits most of tonight’s crowd were wearing.
    Still, she’d enjoy the surroundings, even if she wasn’t likely to be absorbed in the business of the evening. As long as she looked politely interested, she could devote her attention to putting the finishing touches on her plan for Jarrett.
    When she presented her ticket at the door, the ballroom was bustling with manufacturers of all ages and types. Three massive gold and crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow over the white-draped tables, each set for ten diners. Waiters were setting out fruit cups as the guests coming into the ballroom sought out their places.
    â€œYou’ll be at table twelve,” the hostess at the ballroom door told Kit as she checked Alison’s name off her list. “Seats five and six.”
    â€œI don’t have a guest,” Kit said. “So if you need the extra chair—”
    But the hostess had already turned to greet the next couple. Kit tucked the ticket envelope into her tiny handbag and walked into the ballroom. A shiver ran up her spine, reminiscent of the first time she’d seen this room as an awestruck teenager attending her first truly formal dance. Tonight, however, the reason for her reaction was more mundane. The ballroom was downright cold. The temperature would soon moderate, Kit knew, with a couple of thousand warm bodies filling the place. But in the meantime, she was glad she’d brought along a shawl.
    She paused inside the door to drape the soft, cream-colored Irish wool around her shoulders and happened to spot a familiar face nearby. One of the Englin’s concierges was giving instructions to a platoon of waiters. As he finished, he caught Kit’s eye and smiled, and as soon as the waiters rushed off to follow orders, he came toward the door to greet her.
    She finished settling her shawl and held out a hand. “Hello, Carl. I haven’t seen you in ages. I thought you’d moved on to bigger things than nursemaiding banquets.”
    He rolled his eyes. “I thought so, too. I inherited this one at the last minute. Though perhaps I should be careful what I say, in case you’re the one who planned the thing.”
    Kit smiled. “No, thank heaven. Alison’s done some public relations work for the company, but they hired a specialist to arrange the entire convention. I’m just here to represent her at the party.”
    â€œLucky you.” His gaze slid away from her to roam the ballroom.
    There was a tinge of irony in his voice, but Kit thought she was lucky, indeed. She’d expected to have to wait till Monday morning to put the first stage of her plan into effect, but this chance meeting was like a plum dropped into her lap. “Carl, you wouldn’t happen to know if the hotel has a room available three weeks from tonight, would you?”
    â€œThe ballroom, you mean? I doubt it. It’s a rare Saturday night we