She Was Cornered by Paparazzi, Not Knowing the Man Pulling Her Away Was a CEO Who’d Fall for Her
THE UNLIKELY ESCAPE
Penny Parks had exactly $8 in her wallet, a broken ballet flat, and at least 20 paparazzi closing in on her like wolves. She hadn’t expected her temp job at a high-profile charity gala to end with her dress torn at the shoulder and flashing cameras chasing her.
One minute she was refilling champagne glasses. The next, she was being mistaken for the mystery woman seen whispering with movie star Logan Chase inside the ballroom.
“I’m just the help,” she tried to shout over the chaos.
She shielded her face with her tray as bulbs exploded in her eyes.
“Penny Parks, are you dating Logan Chase?”
“Are you the secret girlfriend?”
“Why were you in the balcony with him?”
She backed up into the alley, her heart crashing against her ribs. Her shift had ended 10 minutes ago. She just wanted to get to the subway and disappear. Instead, she tripped over her own foot.
Her bag hit the pavement and more cameras snapped as she scrambled to grab her things. Then a hand gripped her wrist.
“Come with me,” a deep voice said.
She looked up and saw a man in a black suit. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair and a chiseled jawline so sharp it could cut glass. His blue eyes burned with quiet command.
“Wait, what?” Penny gasped.
He didn’t wait. He pulled her through the alley, his grip firm but not rough. The crowd of paparazzi followed, shouting and snapping photos, but the man didn’t slow. A sleek black car screeched to a stop in front of them.
The man flung the door open and pushed her inside before sliding in after her. The driver peeled away without a word. Penny sat frozen, her knees pressed together, her hands still clutching her tray.
“Who are you?”
He glanced at her, then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.
“You’re bleeding,” he said, nodding to the scrape on her knee.
She looked down. She was.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
He loosened his tie and finally turned toward her.
“Roman Ellis.”
That name tugged at something in the back of her mind. Why does that sound familiar? He leaned back in the leather seat.
“Probably because I own half the buildings on Fifth Avenue.”
Her jaw dropped.
“Wait, you’re that Roman Ellis? The CEO of Ellis Holdings?”
The man who had just dragged her out of a paparazzi swarm was a billionaire real estate mogul. She blinked.
“Why on earth would you help me?”
He shrugged, looking out the window.
“You looked like you needed it.”
“I… uh… well, thank you,” she said, still stunned. “But I really can’t afford to be riding around Manhattan in mystery limos. I was supposed to be on the C-train 10 minutes ago.”
He turned back to her.
“The C-train won’t get you out of that media mess, but I can. Where do you live?”
She hesitated.
“Washington Heights.”
He tapped the driver’s shoulder.
“Get us to Washington Heights.”
Penny straightened.
“You don’t have to take me all the way.”
He cut her off.
“I don’t do halfway.”
