“Finally, if you think that getting information on Clive Davis was hard, it’s about to be a whole lot harder. I don’t mind if I never write about him again, but at one point or another, you’re going to want to contact his people when big news breaks. Let me go, and you’ll never hear anything other than ‘no comment’ for as long as he holds this grudge against you. On the other hand, keep me on, and I’m sure he’ll give you the full exclusive on everything he’s doing. I’m sure your bosses would be thrilled if you pulled that off.”
“Fine,” Constance grumbled. “I’m not happy about what you did, but I’ll keep you on under the condition that nothing like this ever happens again.”
“Deal,” Angela said cheerily, shaking Constance’s hand. “I’m sorry I had to put you through all of this, but I really want to work here, more than anything.”
“I understand. I even respect your persistence and like your tough attitude. You’re going to make a hell of a reporter one day, if you keep yourself away from any more scandals.”
“So, I can return to work?” Angela asked.
“Yes,” Constance said. “But for goodness sake, keep your private life private from now on.”
“Believe me,” Angela chuckled, “I will.”
Epilogue
Even though Angela promised herself that she wouldn’t let herself depend on Clive in any way, when he eventually asked her to move in with him, she only turned him down three times. The fourth time he asked, he had prepared a picnic lunch and took her to his cabin in Vermont. As they sat on the soft grass and felt the warmth of the sun on their faces, Angela made the decision that she didn’t want to spend a day without him. He must have sensed her change of heart, because when he asked her again, she responded with a confident “yes”.
That night, after tender lovemaking in the master bedroom, underneath the wall to wall skylight, they talked about their future while stargazing from the comfort of their bed. She told him that if she were to move in with him, then she wanted them to take things slow in all other aspects. She couldn’t even mutter the “M-word” even though a permanent union was often on her mind.
“As soon as we get back to the city,” he said excitedly. “I’m going to send the moving company over to pack up your things. How many trucks should I order?”
Angela laughed. “You’ve seen my place before. I think you could probably manage to fit everything I own into a single minivan.”
“You’re probably right. Maybe we can move things ourselves. We’ll put your things into boxes and carry them down the stairs ourselves, the old-fashioned way.”
“Moving in with you is going to be a massive culture shock, isn’t it?” she groaned.
“Don’t worry,” he said, kissing her on the nose. “I promise things aren’t that different. You’ll just be living in a bigger place and you won’t be paying rent.”
“Or dealing with a landlord.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” he joked. “As your new landlord, I’m going to have to give you a list of rules to abide by.”
“Or what?” she said.
“Or you’re kicked out,” he said.
“Okay,” she giggled. “What rules do you have for your tenants?”
“First, you’re not allowed to clean. I have someone come over every other day to do that.”
“Deal,” she said. “I already don’t clean.”
“Second, you’re not allowed to offer to pay for anything that comes with the house. If I decide I want to buy all new furniture, you will not demand to chip in.”
“Fine. Anything else?”
“Yes. You’re not allowed to wear clothes after business hours,” he said, trying not to smile.
“I’m not so sure about that one,” she said, wrapping her arms around him.
“No? I’m willing to negotiate the hours you’re required to be naked,” he teased.
Just as she predicted, it only took Angela five large boxes to move everything she owned over to Clive’s place. Clive’s penthouse had everything she could ever need, so she packed up her clothes and notebooks and hauled them down the stairs and into the rental van.
She found it sweet that Clive had made space for her in his perfectly curated closet. He installed an extra rack all by himself for Angela to hang her clothes. He accidentally drilled an extra hole in the wall doing it, but it was the thought that counted.
Even Angela’s work life was better than expected. She imagined her boss would be a little cross with her after demanding her job back, but she carried on like nothing had happened. Angela was making a steady income, which was all she could ask for.
Constance was giving her a lot of good feedback and Angela felt more confident with her work with each article she completed. It felt great to see her name in the New York Times, and her parents couldn’t be more proud of her.
Luckily, the scandal had died down just as quickly as it popped up. She didn’t know if Clive paid to kill the story, but all tabloids with their picture on them were suddenly gone within a day. If anyone Angela knew saw the pictures, they didn’t say anything about it because she didn’t receive any phone calls.
One Friday evening, Angela stayed at the office late, as usual, putting the finishing touches on a story. She scrambled to get it finished, knowing that Clive would soon be calling her, bothering her about being late.
Like clockwork, he texted her at seven thirty.
Where are you? We must leave at nine. If you aren’t here in thirty minutes, I’m going to hire someone to come help you get ready.
NO! she responded. I’m leaving now. On my way.
Angela turned off her computer, grabbed her bag and ran out of the building. She was not about to have Clive hire someone to do something she was perfectly capable of doing herself. Angela splurged and hailed a cab to take her back to the penthouse. She loved the looks the drivers gave her when they pulled up to the building. Unfortunately, because they mistook her for someone who had money, she always felt guilted into leaving an extra big tip.
When she walked in their home, Clive was pacing around the kitchen, note cards in hand. He was wearing his tuxedo pants, but no shirt.
“That’s a nice look,” Angela joked, tossing her bag on the table.
Clive approached her, took her face in his hands, and kissed her.
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been freaking out over here.”
“I’m sorry. I wanted to get my article finished before the weekend.”
“You work too much,” he said.
“I could say the same for you. What are you freaking out about now?”
Clive held up the note cards for his speech. He was receiving an award for his contributions in the healthcare field. Angela loved seeing him rattled. It happened so infrequently, but it reminded her that he was secure enough with her to show that side of him. He trusted her.
“What’s wrong with it? I read it last night and I thought it was good.”
“It all seems so trite,” he said, searching for the appropriate word for his speech. “I mean, on paper, it looks great that my organization has raised fifty million this year for research and care, but when you look at the bottom line, I bring in more than that a year from my work. I have some of the richest people in the city giving me money, and that’s it. It seems so insignificant, and I’m the one winning an award.”
Angela cupped his cheek with her hand. “Relax. You know the real reason this event is happening. It’s all about publicity and socializing. You have the rest of your life to acquire wealth and give it away. Go to the party, give your little speech, take a few pictures, and then you can come home and show me some of that generosity,” she said, giving him a wink.
“You better get dressed before I decide just to stay in,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.
“Don’t tempt me,” she said.
Angela put on a modest ball gown with a full skirt. She didn’t want to look too flashy, just nice enough to
fit in. She applied her makeup with a quick hand and curled her long hair. She always laughed when Clive commented on how nice she looked at these events when she usually took less than twenty minutes to get ready.
Just to prove a point to him, she stood at the door, tapping her foot when it was time to leave.
“I get it,” he said, giving her a playful swat on the butt. “You look gorgeous, by the way.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking his hand. She would never tire of seeing her boyfriend in formal wear. The man had the perfect figure for designer suits.
Angela was nervous about walking the red carpet for the first time, but it was important to Clive, so she sucked it up. When she got there, she found that it was exciting to have what seemed like a million tiny flashbulbs go off at once. This was their first public appearance as a couple, and Angela was anxious to see how that tidbit of news would be received. It hardly mattered, though. At the end of the day, Clive was hers.
Once inside, she sat next to Clive at the front table with other important people. Whenever she felt intimidated being around all the celebrities and billionaires, she got into her reporter headspace. Then, she was fearless.
Clive’s speech was very well received and Angela couldn’t have been any prouder of him. Though she often gave him crap about being a greedy socialite, he was really doing good things in the community and she had gained so much respect for him.
During the reception after the awards ceremony, Angela’s phone rang loudly. Clive shot her a dirty look as she apologetically dug in her clutch for her phone.
“Hello?” she answered quietly.
“Angela,” Constance said. “There’s a fire in a Manhattan office building. If you can get there in twenty minutes to check it out, the story is yours. I can text you the address. Do you want it, or should I call someone else?”
Angela looked around the room. Clive was talking with people she didn’t know and looked perfectly content. She would feel terrible to leave Clive on a day like this, but she wanted the story so bad.
She slipped her arm around his lower back and leaned into his ear.
“I got a call from my editor. She wants me to check out a building fire. If I want the story, I have to go now.”
Angela gave him the most apologetic look she could muster. He sighed and kissed her on the cheek.
“Go,” he said. “But I fully expect you to make this up to me when you get home.”
“Don’t worry,” she grinned. “I will. Do you mind if I take the car?”
“Not at all,” he said. “Be safe.”
“I love you,” Angela said, giving his hand a squeeze.
“I love you too,” he responded.
Angela hopped into the town car waiting outside and gave the driver the directions. She unzipped her gown and pulled it off over her head. Underneath, she was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, rolled at the ankle, and a snug long-sleeved shirt. She pulled a pair of collapsible flats out of her clutch and replaced them with her heels.
She was ready for anything that life could throw at her. Angela looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was only eleven o’clock on a Friday night and she had already walked the red carpet, and been handed an assignment. When she was finished, she’d return to the penthouse and curl up under the covers with her smoking hot boyfriend. Angela Reynolds was unstoppable.
About Roxy Sinclaire
Roxy Sinclaire writes steamy, suspenseful romantic stories as the main genre, and this includes a variety of different topics. Some of these include dark romances, action packed romances, mafia romances, and many more. She currently works in customer relations in New York City, but is trying to fulfill her passion in writing and eventually have her dream job become a reality.
Please see her Author Central Account on Amazon for a full list of her titles.
Sign up for her mailing list and find out about her latest releases, giveaways, and more. Plus, get a FREE book! Click here!
For more information, be sure to check out the links below!
@RoxySinclaire
RoxySinclaireAuthor
roxysinclaire.com
[email protected]
Also by Roxy Sinclaire
Pass To Win Series:
Touchdown: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Book 1)
Line of Scrimmage: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (Book 2)
Between The Tackles: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Book 3)
Fourth and Goal: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Book 4)
Game Winning Catch: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (Book 5)
Mafia Romance Series:
Dirty Indiscretions: A Dark Mafia Romance (Book 1)
Her Protection: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Book 2) - Coming March 22nd!
Standalone Novels
Lethal Seduction: A CIA Romantic Suspense
Dirty Money: A Dark Mafia Romance
Object Me: A Bad Boy Lawyer Romance
Dirty Fighter: A Bad Boy MMA Romance
Fast and Loaded: A Bad Boy Sports Romance
Tempting Me: A Bad Boy Romance
The Devil’s Dream: A Dark Romance
Trapped In His World: A Dark Romance
Deceived By The Hitman: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance
About Sky Corgan
Sky Corgan is the USA Today bestselling author of The Billionaires Club. She lives in a little podunk town near San Antonio, Texas. When she's not typing away at the next steamy romance novel, she's busy planning for future vacations.
Originally a horror author, sex scenes and love stories kept magically creeping into her work, so she decided to make the switch to romance. Now she enjoys writing stories that make your heart flutter and your inner yearnings awaken. Please see her Author Central Account on Amazon for a full list of her titles. Sign up for her mailing list and find out about her latest releases, giveaways, and more. Plus, get a FREE book! Click here!
For more information, be sure to check out the links below!
@AuthorSkyCorgan
AuthorSkyCorgan
Also by Sky Corgan
Bully
Unmatchable
Playing Dom
Damaged
Back to the Heart
Primal
Working for the Billionaires Club
The Snowman
His Possession
Mixed Up
Line of Scrimmage: A Secret Baby Sports Romance
Book 2 of the Pass To Win Series.
Book 1-Touchdown: A Bad Boy Sports Romance
Book 2-Line of Scrimmage: A Secret Baby Sports Romance
Book 3-Between The Tackles: A Bad Boy Sports Romance
Book 4-Fourth and Goal: A Bad Boy Sports Romance
Book 5-Game Winning Catch: A Secret Baby Sports Romance
Copyright © 2016 by Roxy Sinclaire
All rights reserved.
Cover design © 2016 by Resplendent Media
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the authors’ imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.
Kayla
The clock was striking three and I was still sitting outside the dean’s office.
I could feel my insides churning as my heart beat loudly in my chest. It was throbbing in my ears as though a passionate drummer had forgotten himself and was still beating the drums even though the song had ended. My heart was ready to climb up my throat so that I could throw it up onto the ground. These thoughts were seriously not helping me. What the hell was I doing to myself?
A floor-to-ceiling mirror was just across from me. It made the
situation even worse. Ugh! I had to look at my own nervous reflection the entire time which just caused me to panic even more.
I had applied for a post-grad scholarship a while ago to Princeton, an Ivy League university. It had been my biggest wish ever since I had learned what the Ivy League actually was. I could envision my younger self, Kayla Vaughn, running around the house telling my parents that I wanted to join Princeton University. And now, here I was staring at the golden plaque on the door of the dean’s office and looking back at my uninteresting life. Everything I had done up until now had been to get here. To this very spot. On this very chair I was sitting.
I had been sitting with a couple of my best friends when they had told me to enroll. We were finishing off the semester and everyone was thinking about their post-grad studies. It was practically the only thing that could be heard on campus. Instead of asking each other “How are you?” instead we were asking “Where are you applying?”
“Try, Kayla,” they had said. “Surely you’ll be accepted.” You betcha!
I had been confident all year long, all my life for all I knew. But now I’d kind of retreated inside myself. Yet still, I had applied. I saw my grades and recommendations and that had been enough to boost my mood. You can do it, girl, I shouted to myself. I was going to make a great impression! I just had to.
Step after step I had taken to get here, and now I was here, waiting on the doorstep to my dreams. Kayla was here to win! Wasn’t there someone who said “I came. I saw. I conquered?” They had obviously said that for me, duh! I was being interviewed for a post-grad scholarship to the best university in the world!
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