Dr. Mitchell: Billionaires’ Club Book 1 (Billionaires’ Club Series) -
Dr. Mitchell: Chapter 12
I brushed my hand over Ashley’s lower back, guiding her toward the table with the perfect view overlooking the ocean. I opted for the indoor corner seat next to the glass windows that gave us privacy from the other patrons in the restaurant to keep the distractions from the wind and other elements at bay.
The waiter led us to our table, which had the fine wine I’d requested already sitting in ice, while bread, cheeses, and other novelty delicacies were prepared for us on the table. After we sat, I nodded toward the waiter, thanking him for pouring the wine and leaving us with the menus.
“Oh, my God.” Ashley’s eyes and smile were wide as she glanced around the room. “Well, this is yet another new side of you I haven’t met.”
I draped my napkin over my left knee and took a sip of my wine. “I believe this is a side of me that I haven’t even met.” I winked at her playful expression.
“Really?” She arched a brow, and if she kept running her hands over her skirt, I was going to lose all self-control. “So, how is it that you and I have never met this man? Perhaps he has a name?”
“Very funny.” I smirked, offering her a small dish for her to choose from pretty much every delicacy I had requested off the menu before we arrived. “Let’s keep it at Jake, though.” I raised my glass toward her. “I haven’t been able to remove from my mind the glorious sound of the name Mitch coming from you either.”
She sipped her wine, cheeks tinting red, and eyes diverting to the sparkling sea that the sun was slowly working its way to dip behind. Goddamn, this woman was beautiful, and I was lost as I watched her eyes change from what seemed to be embarrassed into a fascination with the water.
“Does the lovely lady approve?” I finally asked, knowing if I continued to stare any longer, I’d be transitioning from this man who was enjoying a moment with a woman he was interested in and into a hungry beast who wanted to relive every moment of that night in the hotel in San Francisco.
“The lady does approve,” she flirted back, and I was about to down this glass of wine like a scotch if I wasn’t careful. “This view.” She leaned over to glance at the ocean. “I love views like this. I wish I could memorize them and paint them just as I’m experiencing them.”
“Isn’t that what cameras are for?” I teased.
Her radiant expression turned back toward me. “No. Well, yes, but no.”
I chuckled. “Damn. If I thought like that while performing a surgery, I’m fairly confident my patients wouldn’t trust me with their lives.”
I went to pull the menu and start making suggestions of the finest seafood at this restaurant, but both Ashley and I were caught with a flash of light—practically in my face. I blinked a few times and then noticed it wasn’t just an idiot with his cell phone taking one picture from over Ashley’s shoulder, it was a goddamn mob.
“Can I help you?” I asked while Ashley recoiled to what seemed to be the entire restaurant pulling out phones to take our picture. What the fuck? Did I just summon the whole restaurant to take a picture of Ashley’s view for her?
“What’s happening?” Ashley asked with a nervous laugh, rightfully covering her face with her menu.
“We’re getting the hell out of here. Jesus Christ!” I said, pulling her in close to me while she ducked behind her purse.
We looked like a ridiculous, unprepared couple who was getting blasted by the fucking paparazzi. I was trying not to trip over the feet of patrons who were interested in what the hell just broke out to ruin their fine-dining experience, and Ashley almost was shoved into a table twice. I couldn’t do anything but get us both the hell out of here.
“Holy shit!” Ashley laughed after a waitress opened a side door for us to exit through.
“Follow me. I have no idea what is going on, but we will rectify this situation with you, Dr. Mitchell,” she said.
“Your name?” I asked, making sure her efforts didn’t go unnoticed after we got flash-mobbed by the cell phone camera crew.
“Jennifer, sir,” she said, rushing us through the stairs and hallways. “Which car is yours?”
“The black Bugatti,” I answered, looking for where the valet parked my car. “Over there in the corner.”
“I’ll get your keys and then use that side exit. I just started my shift and wondered what celebrity came in here without sending word ahead so we could ensure they weren’t disrupted while eating.”
“Hold up,” I said, my tone annoyed. “First of all, I’m not a celebrity, and second of all, I am shocked that a restaurant such as this would require anyone to call ahead to ensure they had a private meal.” She stared at me after getting the keys from the valet that ran out to meet us. “Forget it,” I said, too pissed to talk. “You mentioned you believed a celebrity was here? Is that because there’s a situation out front that I need to avoid?”
She nodded, and her blue eyes locked with mine. “Yeah.” She exhaled. “I know this sounds horrible,” she said to me as I stood there, holding Ashley’s hand, instinctively keeping her close to me after our bizarre escape, “but can I get your girlfriend to take a picture of you and me before you leave?”
What the mother fuck? “You know what?” I forced a smile and loosened my suddenly tight grip around Ashley’s hand. “Any other time would be great; however, I should like to leave and replace a location where this chaos is not interrupting my meal.”
“Maybe next time,” she said, diverting her eyes. “Sorry.”
“Thank you for helping us out,” I said, taking my keys and marching with Ashley toward the car.
“Fucking unreal,” I said. “I’ll make this up to you. I just need to get us out of here first.”
Jesus Christ. Did another fucking article come out that had more to do with my eligible bachelor status than my work at St. John’s? Why was this happening again? I had to call Jim. I had no idea what happened to bring this on—tonight of all nights.
Ashley rushed to the passenger’s side of the car as soon as we heard voices coming from outside the garage. I fired up the engine, and the low growl of my vehicle that loved top speeds was about to get exactly what it was asking for.
“Hang on,” I said, navigating through the covered parking lot toward the side exit. Shit. No-go. The damn thing was blocked off as another entryway, and not the exit.
“Didn’t she say this way was the way out?” Ashley said, glancing around.
“Looks like we get to go out front. I’m so sorry about this and everything I’m about to say until we get the hell out of here.”
Ashley laughed. “Well, I’ve heard you growl out the word fuck before.”
I looked over at her smiling face. “What?” I said with a laugh.
“Yeah, I haven’t forgotten my favorite sounds coming out of your mouth that night, either. So, I guess I’m riding with Mitch now?”
Good God, the things this woman does to me, and she’s not even trying. “Well, you’re at least going to hear me say the word fuck like it’s the only word in my vocabulary if I can’t get us out of here without anyone trailing us.”
“High speeds, eh?” she taunted in a sultry voice. “Let’s do this.”
Thank God she was living fearless and free because after pulling out of the parking structure, I was dumbfounded by what was happening. I ignored the crowds of people like we were on the red carpet in the car and maneuvered through them. Once we were on Highway One, I glanced up at my rearview, seeing two cars that seemed to be pursuing us. What the fuck is going on, I thought as I looked over my shoulder and downshifted to give the vehicle the gear it needed to lose the bastards.
“Shut up!” Ashley squealed, and I smiled in response to the more daring side I hadn’t seen in her before. “This car is so—” she stopped and laughed while the G-forces of the car had her pinned into her seat.
“Thank God it’s making up for you not eating dinner as planned,” I said, focusing on the road, the assholes in my mirror, and debating on cutting up through the hills to my right to lose them. There was no way I was leading any of this madness back to my place.
“Definitely unexpected,” she said, adjusting her dress.
Damn it—what I would give to rip the thing off of her and truly enjoy the experience of possibly getting my ass thrown in jail for blowing past a hundred miles an hour.
“Fucking finally,” I said after rounding the Oceanside turn and the cars disappearing behind it. “I need to think,” I said, knowing they weren’t going to let up or possibly—for some crazy-ass reason—send others out to hunt me down.
“Did you lose them?” She laughed and rubbed my arm.
It was like electricity jolted through me. Her touch was something I had been craving. “So far.” I kept glancing in the mirror.
“So, where to, Dr. Celebrity?” She chuckled.
“I swear I never saw this shit coming after that interview. I have no idea what the hell just happened,” I said with a sigh. I looked over at her. “Do you mind if I call Jim? He might know a little more about why that happened to us.”
She smiled at me. “It’s your car, do what you want. Besides, watching the sunset while cruising up the coast is pretty great too. I’m not complaining.”
“At the rate of speed that we’re moving, if I don’t get pulled over and thrown in jail for it, we’ll be able to finish the sunset dinner at the house.” I smiled, then called for the car to dial my brother.
“Jake,” he said in an enthusiastic voice. “Did she ditch your sorry ass already?”
“She is Ashley, and Ashley is sitting here listen to your insults.”
“What happened to dinner?” Jim’s voice became more CEO Jim as soon as he recognized someone that he didn’t know well was listening in on him.
“That’s the only reason I’m wasting my time with Ashley and calling you. Either I’m being confused with some A-list celebrity, or another goddamn article came out on me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Let’s just say I think Ashley and I are going to be on Twitter and hash-tagged or some bullshit like that. We were nearly mobbed at dinner, and I just ditched the red-carpet treatment we received leaving the restaurant.”
“I’m not aware of anything, but I’ve been in meetings all day and now this event for board members. The restaurant didn’t—”
“No, the restaurant didn’t do shit but pretty much get our asses out of there so the rest of their patrons could dine in peace,” I said, my blood boiling again.
“I’ll look into it,” he answered. “How’s Ashley with everything?”
“Probably ready to ditch the douche bag with cameras following him everywhere.” I looked over at her smile and grinned. “She likes the car, at least.”
Jim laughed. “You like Chinese takeout, Ashley?”
“Love it,” she answered. “And I’m fine. It was unexpected, but I’m enjoying the scenic drive.”
“Chinese takeout?” I asked, shaking my head. “I think you can go better than that, buddy. I expect your sorry ass—who begged me to do this three-part interview documentary for the hospital PR—to handle the shit storm that it’s turned out to be.”
“Fine, I’ll have a five-star meal sent to your place. When will you be at the beach house?”
“Turning down Ocean Drive,” I said.
“Then enjoy a glass of wine, calm yourself down, and food will be delivered to my pissed-off brother in an hour. Good?”
“We’ll be good when you figure out why I just had my personal life invaded from out of nowhere, and you fix whatever was written or picture posted that caused this.”
“I’ll have my staff look into it. Go enjoy the fact that Ashley’s still in the car after listening to you complain to me like a little bitch.”
I sighed while Ashley covered her smile. “Handle it,” I said before I ended the call.
The car pulling up to the garage triggered the opener, and we drove down into the location where I could finally hide the vehicle and hopefully salvage the rest of the night.
We walked up the staircase to the first floor of the house. It had the best views of the ocean, the illusion of my pool seemingly spilling over into it. Ashley was instantly drawn to the opened glass doors that allowed the warm breeze to flow freely through the house.
My balcony was pretty much a party oasis. I commissioned a renovation of the thing, mentioning that I wanted some secluded island escape, but the designers went above and beyond. There were torches, a tiki bar, palms to give me privacy from any neighbors who’d care to look over at us. It was like walking out to an island retreat. It was the only way I could truly escape, and the main reason I loved coming to this home.
“This is beyond beautiful,” Ashley said, walking around the lit pool. “I could live out here.”
“I could fuck you out here,” I teased, testing her mood.
She turned back and smiled. “I’m starved, though.” She smiled at me. “And where’s my glass of wine?” She arched her eyebrow sexily at me.
Fuck, I was spellbound by her charms once again, and I knew she wasn’t even doing much. She was just friendly and polite, and my cock was enjoying every look, laugh, and smile she was offering me. I cleared my derailed thoughts to answer her. “I do suck as a host, I guess.” I laughed. “I’ll be right back.”
Before I turned to leave, I watched in awe as her auburn locks blew in the wind, her red dress that hugged her body perfectly swayed against the breeze, all while she walked with dignity and grace toward the edge of the terrace.
I wasn’t a fan of art—not in the way some people could look at paintings or pictures and get lost in their beauty—but this was a picture that I wanted to be recreated. I snapped a few photos as she looked out at the view, hoping she’d accept the challenge of the canvas I wanted to be painted for my other home.
Now it was time to try and salvage the night with the help of my most expensive bottle of wine from Napa Valley and enjoying the sunset, hoping to erase the bizarre intrusion on our dinner.
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