Romance: The Billionaire Alpha Collection

by Ward, Penny

  The waiters deliver us all a mixture of desserts and refill our glasses with more champagne.

  Bryce keeps one hand high up on my thigh as we eat, and I try to make conversation with those around me.

  In all, I count thirty men and five women around the table.

  I whisper to Bryce, “Thanks for the lovely intro and everything, but what on earth am I supposed to talk to these people about?”

  “Nothing. Lucky for you, it’s time for George to take you home. He has your belongings in the car.”

  Part relieved, part saddened about the evening ending, I say nothing and stand.

  Chapter 14

  As I stand to leave the dinner table, some of the guests look up and smile politely; others continue to chatter.

  It’s over.

  And it is ending as cold as it started.

  “Wait,” Bryce says, standing next to me. “I’ll walk you out.”

  He asks that his guest excuse him for a moment, and we make our way to the hall at the front of the house.

  We don’t speak again until we are out of everyone’s hearing range.

  “What about this,” I say, resting my hands on the dress. “I can’t afford this. I’ll change into mine before I go.”

  Bryce tilts his head. “Don’t you like it?”

  “Well of course I do, but I don’t go anywhere to really use it. This...isn’t me.”

  “It’s a gift, and of course it’s you.”

  He pushes me through a door, into another hall, and turns me to view my reflection in one of the hall’s gold, ornate, full-length mirror over on the far wall.

  With Bryce standing behind me, his large hands resting on my waist and his chin resting on my head, I am a fragile bird—albeit a brilliantly dressed one. “Stunning.”

  He’s right. We look as though we walked out of a Hollywood movie. “Okay, well I think standing with James Bond helps me pull it off.”

  “Bond? Daniel Craig, I hope.” He sniggers and turns me around, staring into my eyes. “So, you’ll keep it?”

  “If you want me to.”

  “I do.” He smiles for a moment, then adds, “This is goodnight, Amelia.”

  Please kiss me.

  I want you to want me.

  He lowers his mouth to my lips and his intense stare never breaks from mine.

  Until a flustered-looking member of the staff stutters, “Sir, your guests are asking for you...”

  Bryce stands straight, huffs, and waves at her. “Okay.”

  The moment between us is snatched away.

  I remember the contract and inhale.

  People with contracts don’t have relationships.

  Women who sell themselves, even for one night, don’t get to keep their prince.

  “Goodnight, Bryce,” I say, before turning to walk out the door, down the steps, and into the waiting limousine.

  I don’t look back.

  I can’t.

  I can’t say goodbye to this.

  Sighing as I sink into the leather seats of the limousine, I feel a tear in my eye.

  “Have a good time, ma’am?” George asks, driving over the gravel.

  When I bring myself to glimpse back through the window, Bryce is gone and the door’s closed.

  “The best, George. And that’s the problem.”

  A while later, we arrive outside my apartment.

  At this stage, I’ve swallowed the lump in my throat a few times and try to be grateful for a long hot bath and a good cry.

  When I get out the car, George offers me a leather bag. “What’s this?”

  “I don’t know. Bryce said it’s yours and to give it to you at your home, but to make sure you get inside your apartment door before I leave you.”

  “Oh.” A dream ended, but I react numbly as if I were still in it. “Okay.”

  We walk up to my floor and I let myself inside. “Thanks, George. I can take it from here.”

  “Okay. Sweet dreams, ma’am.” George strolls off, whistling.

  Once inside, I open the bag and there, beneath my purse, the Chanel lipstick, and my dress, are bundles and bundles of cash.

  More than I’ve ever seen in my life, more than I will ever see again in my lifetime.

  My chest constricts and I fall backwards on the couch behind me.

  But instead of joy, I cry with sadness.

  Our business deal is over.

  And I’ll never see him again.

  Chapter 15

  After a sleepless night filled with sobbing, I wake early and try not to think about Bryce, about the incredible way he’d made me feel under such strange circumstances.

  As it’s Sunday, I can’t go to the bank to pay in cash, so I hide it under my bed. Where else would you put that amount of money?

  Walking across the hall to check in with Stacey, I hope that she’ll distract me from my thoughts.

  Stacey is eager to drag every detail out of me, but I only tell her the basics.

  Most of it is too personal.

  “So, you like being a sub to his Dom?” She glares at me as if I’m a loon. “I’m shocked.”

  “Yes, I did. Although this all sounds wrong, this isn’t about being tied up. This...” I clench my chest, “This is about Bryce, about how he did everything right.”

  “Him controlling you was right?”

  “Well yeah, but he did so with kindness. He took care of me: he fed me, turned up the heat, wiped my mouth, carried me over the gravel...”

  “The what?”

  “He even asked me why.”

  “Where was the gravel and he asked you what?”

  “The gravel isn’t important. He asked why I said yes to his proposal. Why I was willing to lie naked in a stranger’s house, utterly at his mercy.”

  “Did you tell him you’d have given him a blowjob for free?” She sniggers. “Or I will, anytime?”

  “You would, but can we please try to remember that despite this experience, I would not. Of course, I seriously I want to now. I want to please him, to serve him.”

  “Serve him?”

  “Sounds stupid, sorry to every feminist alive and dead...but I do.” I drag the elastic out of my hair and let my hair fall around my shoulders. “I can’t believe these things are coming out of my mouth.”

  “Well, we never discover what we like until we try it, I guess.” Stacy slumps down beside me with her cup of coffee and hands me mine. “What now?’

  “Oh, I can pay the back rent and all my other bills. I can ditch the desperate job search and go back to school if I want to, but how will what happened between us affect future relationships? Asking a man to take control won’t work, and besides, they won’t be him. They won’t be the same, do the same as he did. I don’t want an insensitive bully, an egocentric idiot, or a selfish bastard. Been there, done that. I want him.”

  “You’ll find someone else who’ll want you the way you are, without stripping you naked and tying you up,” Stacy elbows me in the ribs, “...which is a good thing.”

  “They won’t have that special something Bryce has hiding behind those pale-green eyes. He sounds harsh, but he’s soft. They won’t make me fearful and lustful in equal measure, they won’t know me like he did instantly, and they won’t wrap up their controlling demands in simple compassion.”

  I swoon.

  Dammit.

  Stop this nonsense.

  Just then, my cell vibrates in my jacket pocket.

  “Hello?”

  “Amelia? Is this you?”

  “Yes.” I get up and pace, glaring at a nonplussed Stacey. “Bryce?”

  I would recognize that deep voice anywhere.

  Stacey’s eyes almost pop out of her head, and she spills her coffee.

  “Yes, it’s Bryce.”

  His voice sends shivers through me.

  Oh wow. He’s calling me.

  “Did you enjoy yourself yesterday, Amelia?”

  Are you kidding me?

  “I thought I’
d been clear, but yes, I did. And thanks for the ahem...bag.”

  “The what? Oh yes.” He clears his throat. “I’m pleased you enjoyed yourself, because I did too. So, I’d like to invite you to come here again some time.”

  My heart is in my mouth and my legs wobble thinking he wants to date me, even after selling myself like I did.

  I’m speechless and so stunned, I sit on the damp spot and feel my sweatpants absorb the spilled coffee.

  Stacey sits next to me with more of the brown stuff and hope glistening in her eyes. She whispers, “What’s he saying?”

  I squeeze her hand while she frowns in pain, and I try to speak calmly past my need to squeal.

  “Um...”

  “I’m offering the same deal, of course,” Bryce states cold-bloodedly.

  My heart falls to the ground and I want to stamp all over it.

  “Oh, another deal.”

  Stacey spills her coffee again, whispering, “Fuck. Another $100,000? You lucky...” and uses the same cloth to clean up another spillage, this time on the carpet.

  “No!” I think and say in unison.

  I will not be purchased like a Gucci dress.

  “Why not?”

  “I took the money once because I needed it, but I don’t need more. You helped me pay off all my debts and I have plenty left over for school. Who knows, one day I might earn a decent wage doing something I enjoy. I don’t want your money, or your deals.”

  “Ah, I see...” Bryce sounds surprised. Dejected. “But you did say you enjoyed yourself?”

  “I did, but I’m no whore.” He remains silent and I figure I’ll risk taking a shot before he leaves my life forever. “I’d love to spend time with you, Bryce, but not for money. Do you understand?”

  Without hesitation, Bryce says, “Yes.” He’s holding back, but I sense his excitement when he adds, “How about dinner, tonight, at eight?”

  “Excellent,” I say, my heart leaping so high I want to dance. “I’ll cook.”

  “No need,” Bryce complains. “Let me take you out, show you off a bit.”

  “You did all that last night. Besides, I came into a little cash recently and I’m just dying to spend some at the organic market. It smelled gorgeous earlier when I ran past it.”

  He laughs softly. “Okay, if you insist. What will you cook, and what should I bring?”

  “Let me surprise you.” Certain items spring to mind above all else. “And bring the red silk sashes.”

  “Now you’re talking.” Bryce says with a much lower voice, “Can we make it at six?”

  I’m so excited by the prospect of seeing him on my terms and by how excited he is. I think I might explode, but I keep my cool a little longer.

  “No, you will be here at six thirty. No sooner, no later,” I state firmly.

  The power has shifted.

  Without the money, we are on a level playing field.

  I am what he wants.

  And he is what I want.

  “I’ll be there,” Bryce replies with a smile in his voice, “No later, no sooner.”

  The End

  Romance:

  Hired

  Penny Ward

  Chapter 1

  Smash.

  The expensive white plate broke into tiny little pieces on the tile floor.

  From the corner of the restaurant, I heard two little boys burst into laughter as I began to clean up the shattered mess. Their laugh was loud and it echoed around the large restaurant. My cheeks flushed red with embarrassment… again.

  I cringed as I felt the eyes of my boss bore into the back of my skull. What made this situation even worse was that this was normal. My daily life as a waitress consisted of rushing around, tripping over nothing, and dropping plates on the floor. I may have been clumsy, but I was working way too much for the measly pay.

  And I hadn’t slept a wink in the last three days.

  “I'm taking that out of your paycheck,” Andrew barked as I re-entered the kitchen with the broken pieces. “That's the second time this week. You’re a pathetic waitress. Pathetic. You stupid little girl.”

  I am sure some of the customers in the restaurant could hear his verbal abuse. I could barely hide my embarrassment as he continued his rant.

  “Jerk,” I muttered under my breath when he had finished.

  I wiped back the twist of brunette hair that had fallen into my face and tried to smooth out my apron. As I did that, I noticed a trickle of blood on my finger. I must have cut it as I picked up the pieces.

  Boy, I had some bad luck.

  “Excuse me!” Andrew stammered, stomping across the kitchen.

  Oh no, I’m in trouble.

  His large figure stopped directly in front of my petite frame.

  “Did you just say what I think you said?” he stated, looking down on me with fierce eyes.

  I should have known better.

  Why couldn’t I just bite my lip and keep my words to myself like my grandmother had always told me?

  I was embarrassed, but at the same time exasperated at his overbearing behavior. I was beyond weary and my bones ached in tiredness. All I could think of is taking a shower and wiping off the scum that was covering my skin.

  I rolled my eyes in utter defeat.

  As I stared into his, I swear I could see a hint of pleasure as he’s chastised me in front of my colleagues for the third time this week. This job wasn’t worth the stress and it wasn’t worth the measly pay. The only thing I made money from was the tips.

  “You know what… I’m done. You can stick your job.” I interrupted his rant.

  Andrew seemed to make a move to calm himself, but then he steamed back up.

  “You’re fired,” he spat in my direction.

  “You don’t have to fire me! I quit!”

  I ripped the apron from my body, throwing it down on the floor, and then stomped on it like it is on fire. I don’t remember my feet carrying me out of the front door, but they must have.

  Next thing I knew, I was sulking outside the restaurant.

  Alone.

  I was standing on a busy curb in the middle of New York, stunned, watching the taxis drive by. One of them splashed dirty water on my already dirty shoes.

  Damn.

  I had never felt more alone. Despite being surrounded by millions of people in this busy city, I had never felt more isolated.

  Stupid girl.

  How could I be so stupid?

  Why did I just quit the only thing that was keeping me afloat?

  I needed that job to pay my bills.

  Stupid girl.

  Beating myself up was something I did regularly do for fun. My behind rested on the nearest chair and my head fell into my hands.

  How am I going to live without a job?

  What a stupid thing to do. How can I pay my debts if I don’t have an income?

  Maybe I should go back to apologize, or beg for forgiveness? I could offer him something that would convince him to rehire me.

  No. I wasn’t going to do that. I was just going to do what I’ve always done - find a way through the mess. It’s not like I had a choice.

  As my head rested in my hands, I began to gently sob. Life has been so hard lately that I am almost out of tears.

  As the gentle cries soaked my hands, a strong male voice came from over my shoulder, “Excuse me. Are you alright?”

  My wet eyes looked up and a beautiful figure was standing next to me.

  Great. Just what I needed – a beautiful man to watch me cry.

  Why couldn’t I meet this man when I was dressed up for a dinner party? (Not that I have many of those!)

  “Do you need some help?” he asked.

  I recognized the face. The perfect cheekbones, the dreamy eyes, the smooth skin. It was a face I had dreamt about.

  “Um… hi.” Those were the only words I could mutter as I felt a loose tear roll down my cheek.

  He held out his hand, asking me to stand up, “I saw what happe
ned. I was in the restaurant, you were serving me, remember?”

  “Oh… Of course,” I mentioned as I stood up and quickly wiped my eyes, “Could you see what happened from in the restaurant?”

  “We could certainly hear it in the restaurant. His voice echoed through the room.”

  “Oh.” I blushed in further embarrassment.

  “Don’t be embarrassed. That man doesn’t deserve to have someone like you working for him.”

  I smiled in return of his comment.

  “Shall we go for a walk?” he said in his deep, silky voice.

  I do remember that he was in the restaurant now.

  He was sitting in the corner booth and I remember bringing him wine. But my shift was a whirlwind of customers and my mind was still on my ex-boyfriend, Richard.

  “I'm really sorry about what happened. That was humiliating…” I tried to refuse his offer for a walk.

  The man opposite me made me uncomfortable – he seemed perfect in every way. His suit was perfectly fitted, his shoes perfectly cleaned and his body seems perfectly groomed.

  As I stood next to him, I felt small in his presence.

  “Don’t be embarrassed. That was not your fault. If anything, you should be proud of the way you handled it. You walked away from that argument with class.”

  Class?

  Who is he kidding? I just got fired.

  The man looked back over his shoulder as a slick limousine pulled up to the curb.

  “Is that your car?” I said, half-joking.

  He smiled nicely. “It is.”

  Wow.

  The car was about as big as the shoebox I was living in.

  “Do you have another job to go to?” he asked.

  I shook my head gently.

  “Walk with me,” he stated firmly and began to walk off.

  I don’t know why, but I felt compelled to follow him. His voice was full of authority and I had already had enough arguments for one day.

  “What will you do next?” He asked.

  “I really don't know. The job market is still tight and I don’t have a lot of skills. But I still have debts to pay. The landlord will probably evict me from my apartment complex,” I murmured in response.