Baby Love: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Vaughn, Vesper

  A bidding war was set off between Roger and Liz. They ended up partnering and in the end, Football Guy walked off the set with a one million dollar deal for twenty percent of his company and no royalty paid out.

  “Let’s take a break!” Jane called out.

  I gulped. It was nearly my turn. I drank an entire glass of water and nearly choked on it. Some of it spilled on my dress. “Shit!” I hissed. It was two minutes until I was supposed to be on camera.

  Liz Anders was standing a foot from me, refilling her tea cup. She looked at me appraisingly. “George!” she called over her shoulder. “Hair dryer!”

  “Thank you,” I said sincerely.

  “We’ve all been there, sweetheart,” she replied with a friendly smile.

  Soon I was standing in front of a whole studio of people with George the hair guy blowing my tits with hot air. I tried to think about anything other than the people staring at me, because when I got nervous, I blushed so hard my face turned the same shade as my hair. But now I was already overheating from the hair dryer and the embarrassment.

  The show must go on.

  I took a deep breath, waiting the required thirty seconds for the camera to capture my face and those of the Engineers before speaking. “Hello Engineers. My name is Rachel Cobb, and I am a trained geneticist and entrepreneur. I have a product that I feel is going to change the world.”

  I felt Zane Reid’s eyes boring into me. I couldn’t make eye contact with him or I knew that I would lose it.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ZANE

  If I had thought she was gorgeous the other day through tinted glass, it was nothing to how she looked standing in front of me now. Her auburn hair was bouncing as she talked. I noticed she was looking at everyone on the panel except for me. I wondered if it was on purpose.

  I felt an itch that had to be satisfied. I couldn’t be ignored.

  “In the psychiatric world, physicians have been hoping to find the specific genetic markers for every mental illness to make diagnosis and treatment easier. Science has found the genetic markers for many illnesses at this point, including three genetically similar ones: ADHD, bipolar, and anxiety. The only problem is that they are all located on the same gene.” She paused, licking her lips tantalizingly.

  This woman was imminently fuckable.

  “Until now. Last year, in my lab at the University of Illinois along with several graduate students, we discovered a differentiation between the three. This means that we have a definitive way to genetically test for all three illnesses separately, having the potential to make treatment for these mental illnesses more accessible to more people. This is an enormous scientific breakthrough.” Rachel was clearly gaining confidence as she talked more. She was starting to glow.

  “But my team didn’t stop there. We found genes that can tell us how a patient with this illness will respond to different kinds of medications. The current model of psychiatric care involves a best-guess diagnosis. Once the patient is diagnosed, the next few months is a blur of constantly trying out expensive pharmaceuticals. With our technology, we can tell each patient what medication will work for them, definitively, without endless trips to your psychiatrist and to the pharmacy.”

  “Wow.” I heard Scott’s voice from three seats over. I’d watched this show before. I’d never heard him react to a pitch before it was finished.

  Rachel smiled and swallowed nervously, nodding at him appreciatively. “But technology is no good unless it has a practical application. I want to bring this to the masses. My company is providing genetic testing kits at the low cost of twenty dollars. But wait! There’s more.”

  Liz laughed admiringly from two chairs down. I knew that was a good sign for Rachel; I’d known Liz for years and she never faked enthusiasm.

  “My goal from the beginning was to make this a one-for-one company. So for each kit sold, one is given to a person in need. Through homeless shelters, community outreach, and public schools, I want our kits to be available to anyone, anywhere, at any time. Phase one was making the discovery. Phase two is manufacturing and distributing the kits. I have business loans that have made it possible for me to get the first 100,000 kits ready to sell on our website.”

  “So you have enough cash flow to get the business going, and for the products sold to provide further money to pour into the business,” Roger interrupted, clearly prompted by the producer squawking through his hidden earpiece. “Then why are you here?”

  Rachel nodded. “I’m here today is because I need money for the third phase of this project. Which involves heavily subsidizing the pharmaceuticals for our customers.”

  I raised my eyebrows and finally spoke up. “So you’re planning on turning the world of Big Pharma on its head?” I couldn’t keep the skepticism out of my voice.

  “I’m hoping with your contacts and investment; we can make this a self-sustaining business model over time.”

  There was silence. I heard Liz tapping her pen on her notepad.

  Mr. Friendly spoke up. “Why aren’t you licensing this technology to other companies?”

  Rachel nodded. “We considered that, but I want this technology to be kept in a one-for-one model, not for profit.”

  I knew Mr. Friendly’s next question before he even asked it. “But it could be both. You could license the product, watch the money pour in, take that money and then provide all the kits you’d ever want to provide to people.”

  Rachel was prepared for this as well. “I considered that. There’s a risk that the big guys make connections with physicians and increase the consumer prices drastically before we have a chance to make contact. Along with that, the companies I went to wanted the tech for themselves. It was all or nothing. They wanted it to be proprietary.” She took another huge breath as if girding herself. I enjoyed how her breasts swelled and pulled at her dress fabric as she did so. “And I’m not here to make money. I’m here to change the world.”

  There was silence in the studio unlike any that had been experienced all day.

  Mr. Friendly, expectedly, spoke up. “You’re not here to make money,” he repeated.

  Rachel stared him down. “That is what I said.”

  “Then why are you wasting my time?” he snapped, incredulous.

  “I don’t think it’s a waste of time to want to use your massive fortunes to help people who weren’t so lucky.”

  I waited for the explosion from Scott. I knew it was coming, and I knew it would be huge. “Lucky? Excuse me?” Scott asked, incredulously. “Do you know who I am?”

  Rachel broke neither eye contact nor her level of intensity in her response. “I know who you are. You’re a white man with no mental illness nor any debilitating physical limitations. You were born into a middle class family in a suburb of New York City. You didn’t come from nothing. You have an invisible knapsack full of privilege that you refuse to acknowledge. The man on the street suffering from untreated bipolar is not any less of a man than you are. Perhaps with medication he could change the world in ways that you can only dream of while you’re counting decimal points in your bank account.”

  More silence. Deafening, roaring, ferocious silence.

  Roger was the one to break the tension “No one has ever, ever spoken to him like that. Ever. I’m telling you: no one. Not even his Catholic school nuns.” He chuckled at his own joke. I glanced at Liz, who looked like she was about to kiss Rachel on the mouth.

  Mr. Friendly ignored Roger and turned back to Rachel. “So how much are you asking for?”

  Rachel finally looked nervous. “Fifty million dollars for a forty-nine percent stake in the company.”

  That broke Liz’s admiration. She laughed uproariously. “You’re joking.”

  Rachel shook her head. “I’m not. The only reason it’s forty-nine percent is because I want a controlling interest. I’m not interested in the money. I’m interested in this business remaining exactly as I’ve planned it: to be about giving, not taking.”

&
nbsp; Liz put her pen down firmly. “I admire what you’re trying to do. But I’m out.”

  Rachel nodded. “Thank you for understanding where I’m coming from.” She turned boldly to Scott. “Mr. Friendly? Any insight from you?”

  I had to stop myself from laughing. She was a feisty little thing.

  Scott shook his head. “I’m taking my privilege and not cutting you a deal,” he spat.

  Rachel nodded once and looked at Roger. “Mr. Morehouse?”

  Roger shook his head. “I’m sorry, I just can’t invest that kind of money for that kind of risk. It’d be like a donation but with a ton of work involved. Because you’re asking for industry contacts and political leverage with these prescription drug companies, and I just can’t do it. I’m out.”

  Rachel thanked him and finally turned her gorgeous face and sexy eyes on me. “Zane – I mean, Mr. Reid?” she asked. She blushed so ferociously she looked like a tomato.

  A sexy fucking tomato.

  Everyone laughed. “She called you Zane,” Roger guffawed. “Wow, looks like someone’s got a little crush. Isn’t that fascinating luck, Mr. Reid?” he said dramatically, turning to face me.

  I wanted to punch him in the face but I held back. I felt an idea bubbling up in my head. A dangerous one. A ridiculous one. But my idea was a decidedly non-boring one. “I can pummel those motherfucking pharma guys into the ground.”

  Roger groaned. “Language, my friend, this is network television.”

  I ignored him, all my focus on Rachel. It was like we were the only two people in the room. “I’ll give you your fifty million for forty-nine percent interest. And I’ll give you my contacts. On top of that, you’ll have my full support to make this entire vision a reality.”

  Rachel’s jaw dropped. Roger actually grabbed my arm. Mr. Friendly scoffed from the end, and Liz started clapping.

  I ignored them all. “Do we have a deal, Ms. Cobb?”

  Rachel bounced over to me as I stood up. She enveloped me in a hug and I got so caught up in the moment, I lifted her off the ground and spun her. She smelled like roses. I put her down and whispered in her ear. “Hell, any woman who so thoroughly eviscerated that asshole over there can have my entire fucking fortune.”

  I pulled away and she bit her lip, blushing slightly.

  Ryan Angel stepped back onto set as I sat down and Rachel still stood there, her hands clasped in front of her, joy seeping out of her skin and illuminating everyone around her.

  She was utter perfection.

  “Well, folks, there you have it. First day on the job and already Zane Reid has shattered the Boiler Room record for the biggest deal ever offered on this show; by a factor of twenty-five. We hope you’ve enjoyed it, and until next time: keep turning up that heat!”

  Roger pulled off his microphone as the cameras stopped rolling, then reached over to rip off mine. “I need to talk with you.”

  He thought I was losing it. I knew that. Liz was even glancing over at me with a mixture of suspicion and a tinge of pity. I ignored both of them and walked over to Rachel, who seemed glued to the spot. I held out my hand. “You can call me Zane,” I said to her.

  She grabbed my hand and I saw that her nail polish was endearingly chipped. “I honestly don’t know what to say,” she breathed. She was shaking as she still gripped my hand tightly.

  I put my other hand around hers and squeezed it. “Do you need to sit down?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. No. Wait! I don’t know. I don’t think I can sit down, I have too much excitement to sit down. But also, strangely, I kind of feel like I need to sit down as well? Like my knees aren’t going to hold up for much longer?”

  She was babbling. I leaned down and whispered to her again. “I have an idea that’s a good halfway point between sitting and standing and also involves expending some energy.”

  I felt her pulse quicken and her breathing slow. I couldn’t help myself.

  “I – um. Mr. Reid, I mean, Zane, uh,” Rachel stammered.

  “Go to dinner with me,” I insisted, still holding her hand. I’m sure there were people staring. I didn’t care.

  “Okay,” she replied.

  “I’ll call you.” I walked off set, pushing past Jane and a dozen other people who wanted to make sure that I hadn’t completely lost my mind.

  I didn’t need to talk to any of them. All I wanted was Rachel. And I was going to have what I wanted.

  CHAPTER SIX

  RACHEL

  “You got the deal?” Callie shrieked. We were standing in her living room.

  I still couldn’t manage to calm myself enough to sit down. “I got the deal,” I repeated slowly. “But I didn’t ask for the deal I went to the producers with.”

  Callie’s face fell. “No, Rachel, do not tell me you sabotaged yourself again by asking for less than you-“

  “I didn’t ask for less. I asked for more; fifty million dollars to implement phase three. The prescription part,” I replied, still feeling like I was walking on air.

  Callie was frozen to the spot, her mouth still open to finish the sentence I’d interrupted. “Fifty million…what? Who took that deal?”

  I felt blush creeping up to my ears at the very thought of Zane. “Zane Reid took the deal.”

  “Did you have to give up, like, one hundred percent interest in the company along with your children and grandchildren?” Callie asked, still in shock.

  I laughed. “No, I still have fifty-one percent. A controlling interest, just like I wanted to have all along.”

  Callie’s perfect eyebrows were raised so high they were threatening to disappear into her chemically straightened hairline. “I need…a drink. But I can’t have a drink. So I’m going to go get some sparkling water, and then I’m going to sit down. And you are going to tell me all of that one more time,” Callie said, rushing out of the room and returning with two cans of fizzy water. She curled her legs onto the Pottery Barn white cotton-twill sofa and sipped heartily from the can. “You just told me that Zane Reid offered you fifty million dollars for your business.”

  I nodded, the joy finally bubbling up and overriding the shock I’d been feeling all day. “There’s more, though. He asked me out to dinner.”

  “Right. Like to talk about the contract,” Callie said light-heartedly.

  I shook my head. My heart pounded as I remembered what he’d whispered in my ear. A shiver went through me. “No. I think it was like, dinner-dinner.”

  “Like a date?”

  I paused and examined my unopened can of water. “Yeah, I think it was.”

  A moment later I couldn’t contain myself. I actually squealed and jumped up and down. Callie put her drink down, we locked our hands together, and she joined the bouncing. She shrieked with me. “ZANE REID. YOU ARE GOING ON A DATE WITH ZANE REID!”

  We were so excited we didn’t hear Patrick come home. “Did you get the deal?” he asked excitedly. Callie let go of one of my hands and drew Patrick into our circle. “You got the deal! Why are we jumping? Is this a thing? Because if this is a thing, I’m happy about it but I’d like to know that it’s a thing.”

  “It’s a thing!” Callie explained. “Since we were kids, it’s a thing.”

  “It’s a thing!” Patrick yelled. “So you got the deal!”

  “She didn’t only get a deal, she got a date!” Callie exclaimed.

  “With who?”

  “ZANE REID. SHE GOT A DATE WITH ZANE REID!” Callie screamed.

  Patrick stopped jumping immediately. “You said you have a date with Zane Reid.”

  I nodded excitedly. “That’s correct.”

  Patrick still stood there. Callie and I stopped our bouncing. “Wait, wait – which Engineer gave you a deal?”

  “Zane,” I said, grabbing at a stitch in my side and sitting on the couch to sip my wine.

  Patrick cocked his head. “The guy who’s investing in your business is taking you on a date?”

  “Don’t be such a buzzkill, Patrick,” Calli
e said. “Drink soda and let’s talk about how hot Zane is.”

  Patrick shook his head. “As fun as that sounds, I’m going out with the guys. Rachel, congratulations on being – sorry, how much richer?”

  “Fifty million dollars,” I said, beaming and raising my wine glass.

  Patrick’s jaw dropped. “Okay, that was unexpected and I really want to hear more but I gotta run. So congratulations to you and congratulations on your date, whenever that is.” His expression was odd but he was trying to be happy. He walked over to Callie and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Callie said jokingly. Callie turned to me. “So what are you going to wear?”

  “Whatever I can beg, borrow and steal from your closet,” I replied.

  “Look who’s actually interested in fashion now that Big-Dick Billionaire is wanting to have sex with her,” she said suggestively.

  I turned crimson. “Stop. It’s just dinner. That’s all. There’s no way Zane would want to – have you see the women he’s always linked to?”

  “Allegedly linked to. It’s not like he’s ever seen with any of them. He has those raging house parties in his penthouse but people can only make guesses based off of who comes stumbling out of the building the next morning at ten a.m. Nobody knows who he’s actually forking.”

  I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of organic vegetable crisps covered in nutritional yeast instead of cheese. They weren’t my first choice but it was the closest to a snack this household made it. Within seconds my fingers were covered in orange fake-cheese dust and Callie was yelling at me to stay in the kitchen with the food. “If these are all-natural why are they still electric orange?” I asked Callie.

  “Turmeric,” Callie said. The doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” I replied, carrying the bag of chips to the door. I felt a rush of excited energy like I hadn’t felt since I was finishing up undergrad and spending all day in the lab making discoveries. I pulled open the door with my non-fake-cheese-covered hand. Standing in the doorway was a young guy with a mop of brown hair. He was holding four glossy, boxes: three light-pink wrapped in white ribbon and a fourth black box that was enormous.