by Mia Ford
Dad looked up and narrowed his eyes as if seeing me for the first time. “Why?”
I chuckled. “Well, in case you don’t remember,” I said lightly. “She’s my boss. And she’s been gone for over two hours, I don’t have anything to work on.”
Dad threw me a fat folder brimming with paperwork. “You can file these,” he said.
“Yeah, okay, but where’s Hannah?”
My father glared at me. “She’s been terminated,” he said. “I had her escorted from the premises.”
“What?” I leapt out of the jaw, my jaw hanging wide open. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
My father sighed. “Justin, I’m not a fool,” he said slowly. “I know what was happening. She was developing an attachment to you, and as your superior, that put the company in a terrible position. You’ve been showing a lot of promise over the past few weeks, and I didn’t want that to change because of a girl.”
I gaped at him. “You seriously have no idea what you’re saying,” I said, managing to stay as calm as possible. “You have it all wrong.”
Dad raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? Then explain it to me,” he said sarcastically.
“For one thing, we’re in a relationship. I’ve been the one telling Hannah to stay cool at work, because I didn’t want to piss you off!” I yelled, throwing my hands in the air. “She’s changed my life, and it’s all because of her that I’ve been doing well! She’s been teaching me the things I need to know in order to be successful at my job!”
“Justin, I—“
“I know,” I said bitterly. “You have your reasons. And I have my fucking trust fund, but Hannah doesn’t have any savings. You want to fire someone? Fire me,” I said hotly. “She doesn’t deserve this.”
Before my father could reply, I turned on my heel and stalked out of his office.
Hannah
When the buzzer rang from downstairs, I couldn’t even pick myself up off the couch and out of my nest of blankets. I’d been curled up crying ever since I got home – wondering what the hell I was going to do now that I’d been fired from one of the most prestigious consulting firms in the world. Creovation Inc. had sounded like a good idea, but now I was fiercely regretting the day I’d ever stepped into that sleek office and applied for a job.
I heard loud footsteps in the hall, and then a pounding on the door.
“Hey, lady, there’s someone downstairs for you!” My neighbor, Shirley, yelled through the door. “They keep buzzing my apartment and telling me to get you!”
“I don’t care,” I yelled back. “Leave me alone!”
“Either you come deal with your guest or I call the cops,” Shirley shouted back loudly. “And I ain’t kiddin’ around!”
With a sigh, I hauled myself off the couch. Wrapping a blanket around my shoulders, I went downstairs. I tried to soak in the grimy apartment stairwell as I went, knowing full well that soon, I’d probably have to give my apartment up and move back to Pennsylvania.
To my shock, Justin was standing outside. Before I could say anything, he pulled me into a tight hug.
“Hannah, I love you,” Justin said fiercely in my ear. “And I’m so sorry about what happened. I didn’t know until I got back.” He pulled away from me and sighed. I could tell that he was angry. “I let my dad have it,” he said, raking a hand through his dark hair.
My lip trembled and hot tears spilled over my cheeks.
“I love you, too,” I said softly. “What’s going to happen?”
“I don’t know.” Justin’s voice was grim. “But I promise that no matter what, I’ll be there for you, baby. I’ll help you until you get back on your feet. I’m completely in love with you, and I want you to be mine.”
The tears started coming faster and despite my best efforts to wipe them away, I couldn’t help it.
“I love you so much,” I sobbed, clinging to Justin’s chest. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes, you do,” Justin said. He slid his fingers under my chin and tilted my face up to look at his. “It’s me who isn’t worthy.”
Just as I was about to argue back, a sleek black limo pulled up to the curb. I frowned at Justin.
“I shouldn’t leave my apartment,” I said. “I need to job hunt.”
But Justin was frowning. “That’s not mine,” he said strangely. “I took a cab here.”
Before I could ponder the ridiculousness of the man I loved taking a measly cab, William P. Long climbed out of the back of the limo. His face was stern and drawn.
“Hannah, I need to apologize,” William said humbly. “I was wrong to fire you. I’d love to have you back – that is, if you’d be willing to come back to Creovation.”
I glanced from William to Justin.
“I’m not sure what’s going on,” I said slowly.
William chuckled. “I made an error,” he said. “I was mistaken – I saw Justin’s progress and assumed it had nothing to do with you. But after you left, Justin helped me see the error of my ways. You’ve helped change my son’s life, and I shouldn’t be punishing you. In fact, I’d like to promote you to full-time copy writer for Creovation. You’ve done nothing but fantastic work, and we’re more than happy to have you on board.”
I blinked. “I don’t know what to say,” I said softly.
Justin pulled me into a soft kiss. “Say yes,” he whispered.
“Yes,” William echoed. He smirked at me and suddenly I saw the resemblance between Justin and his father for the first time. “As long as you can keep my boy in line, you’re welcome to return.”
“Yes,” I said enthusiastically. I was still crying, but now my tears were tears of joy. “Yes, I’ll come back!”
Justin kissed me on the forehead. “Be mine forever,” he whispered. “I love you, Hannah.”
I grinned at him. “I love you, too,” I said softly. “But there’s just one thing.”
William and Justin looked at me. “What is it?”
I smirked. “Justin has to work in a new department,” I said with a grin. “I don’t feel good about bossing my boyfriend around.”
William grinned. “Done,” he said.
I sighed as Justin pulled me into his arms and kissed me deeply. Somehow, against the odds, I knew that I’d finally found my perfect happy ending.
THE END
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Billionaire Smutty Romance Collection
BOOK 1: BAD BOY BALLER
MAYA
I was young and stupid, but that was no excuse. Everyone is young and stupid at some point in their life, but not everyone makes the mistakes I'd made. It all started when my brother Luke brought over a new friend. I was a senior in high school, a good girl. A girl my family could be proud of. I didn't go out and party like my brother. I studied. I worked hard. I was going to be a doctor one day, and that meant taking advanced classes while I was in high school, to prepare myself for college and beyond.
I was the white sheep of the family, my brother the black one. He would disappear for days on end, partying and drinking, until he finally couldn't party anymore. Even at twenty-one, he was still living at home. He worked mostly odd jobs – his latest one at a club in Chicago. Luke told me all about it, making it sound like an incredible opportunity, rather than the latest waystation on the road to nowhere he was on. But I'd listen as he told me how great it was to sling drinks and flirt with all the hot women – and to get paid for it too.
He'd apparently found his dream, and I guess that I had to be happy for him.
Every week, we had a family dinner. It was something of a tradition with my folks. Once a week, we'd all
gather around the table and eat a home-cooked meal, all in one place. During the week, my father's job kept him away a lot and Luke was, well, Luke. He was hardly ever around. But he was good about never missing a family dinner. Mostly because mom would have had his hide if he had.
But I remember clearly, this one specific family dinner, when Luke brought a friend from work to our weekly family gathering.
“His name is Reese,” he told my mom beforehand.
“Reese isn't family, dear,” she said. “Only family should be at family dinner.”
Yeah, my mom was a bit uptight. Sometimes too uptight for her own good. But I had to admit that I agreed with her. At least on this one thing. I didn't want any of my brother's scumbag friends hanging out with us. Especially not on the one night we were supposed to come together as a family.
“He has no family, mom. I feel bad for the kid,” Luke complained. “Would you really turn away a guy who has no family instead of welcoming him into ours for an evening?”
I rolled my eyes as I listened from the living room. My brother knew how to work it and play on my mom's heart strings. It made me sick.
I heard my mom sigh as I walked into the kitchen. She put the lasagne in the oven and wiped her hands on her apron. She tried a little too hard to be the picture of the perfect mom – her perfectly coifed hair, the church dress, the pearls around her neck. She had that Donna Reed thing going on, but was exactly the type of woman I aspired to be. Except, of course, that I wanted a career. I gave her props for all she did, but being a stay-at-home mom wasn't for me. In that regard, I was more like my dad – who was a doctor too, of course.
“Fine, I guess I shouldn't be so cold,” she said. “Tell him he can come over, but please – and I beg of you, Luke – tell him to make sure he dresses properly. None of those baggy jeans and baseball caps at the table.”
I snickered. It was hard enough to get Luke to dress properly, especially back then. He was trying so hard to be a gangster type – baggy jeans, tennis shoes that cost his entire pay check, baseball caps turned backward with the brim left unmoulded. He didn't want people to believe he was the adult son of a doctor and a stay-at-home wife living in middle class suburbia outside of Chicago. That would have damaged his street cred or whatever he called it.
If Luke heard me laughing, he ignored me. Instead, he agreed – reluctantly – that they'd dress appropriately for the dinner table. Though, it didn't take a genius to know that his idea of appropriate and my mom's likely didn't match up too well. I figured we'd be lucky if he wore anything that even remotely resembled appropriate dinner table attire.
When he brought Reese over though, I wasn't surprised to see that the kid was wearing the exact attire that mom had said not to wear to the table. Of course, he was. So was my brother.
But Reese, unlike my brother, made it look natural. Unlike my upper middle-class, spoiled snot of a brother, Reese actually looked the part. His brown hair was shaggy and stylishly messy. And unlike my brother, he had the decency to take his hat off at the dinner table – something that surprised the hell out of me.
My mom shook her head, mumbling to herself about ungrateful kids, but she let it go without causing a scene. She never let us argue at the dinner table and always made sure to set the example for us.
I, of course, was dressed in a pink floral skirt with a white, button-up blouse. Not the type of outfit I'd wear to school, but for family dinner, I was expected to dress a little nicer than normal. My father usually wore whatever he wore to work that day – usually a shirt and tie.
“Luke, would you care to say grace?” my mom asked, shooting him a look of pure death that was camouflaged by a saccharine sweet smile, of course.
“I'd rather not,” my brother said. “I'm sure Maya would be more than willing though.”
It was my father, the one who normally didn't like confrontation, who started the dinnertime prayer. I bowed my head, but caught myself staring over at Reese with wide eyes. He pretended to bow his head, but while everybody had their heads lowered, he looked around our dining room, his eyes almost as wide as mine, but probably for different reasons.
I was staring because Reese was actually pretty hot. My dorky brother usually had dorky-looking friends, but this time, his friend wasn't so bad on the eyes. So, sue me. I was a warm-blooded high school girl who didn't get much attention from boys because I was shy and often kept my face hidden by a book. But there was an older guy, someone with a little more experience behind him than the stupid boys in my high school class. I stared until Reese caught me staring. I quickly looked away, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
My father ended the prayer and we all started eating. I kept my eyes lowered and tried hard not to get caught staring again. I was, after all, a dorky high school girl and he was a cooler, older guy who worked at a club. There was no way, in a million years, my brother's best friend was going to look twice at me.
But a girl could dream, couldn't she?
“Dude, where did you get the money for that?” my brother asked.
We were hanging out in the living room, watching television as I pretended to study, and my brother was on the phone – talking to Reese most likely.
“I'm so jealous, dude,” he said, shaking his head.
“Could you please be quiet –” I started to ask him, but it was my mom who beat me to it.
“Please don't make us listen to your conversations, Luke,” she said. “Take it to your room.”
“Nah, it's fine,” Luke said. “He's coming over anyway.”
“Who is?” I asked, already knowing the answer and feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.
“Reese, Duh. He just bought a killer new sound system for his car and wants to show it off,” he said.
“Where does he get the money for stuff like that?” my mom asked.
It was a question that had occurred to me, but one I never really pursued because it really didn't matter all that much to me. But I had thought about it briefly given that my brother worked at the same club and couldn't even afford his own toilet paper – he made our parents buy it for him.
“I dun no. Side jobs and stuff,” Luke said, not meeting our gaze. “What's it matters to you? At least he's making a living, right?”
“Unlike someone we know,” I muttered under my breath.
“You're just jealous and you have a massive crush, Maya,” Luke said. I turned bright red. “But keep dreaming. There's no way he'd ever be into a nerdy little high schooler like you.”
“I don't have a crush,” I lied, looking down at my textbook as if mitochondria and nuclei were the most interesting subjects on the planet. “I would never have a crush on one of your loser friends, Luke.”
“Ha. Yeah, right. We both see the way you gawk at him every time he comes over,” he sneered. “You're not fooling anyone.”
“Enough!” My mom shouted, putting her hands up between us. “Stop it already. Just stop arguing. I'm trying to watch my movie.”
I glared at Luke and he smirked at me. He knew he was right. And even worse, I knew he was right. He knew I had a crush on Reese, and no matter what I said, there was no denying it. And now that Reese knew, well, that would make running into him even more awkward than it already was.
I picked up my textbook, slammed it shut and walked toward my room. The tears were fresh in my eyes and stung, but I couldn't cry in front of Luke. I couldn't give my obnoxious brother anymore reason to smirk or laugh at me than he already had.
Only a few more weeks until graduation, then I was off to college, I reminded myself. I'd be going to North-western, so not terribly far – but far enough that I would be able to avoid my brother and his friend. I'd meet other boys at college and forget that Reese even existed, I was sure of it. I was going to meet more worthy boys, not boys who worked at nightclubs and likely sold drugs on the side to live an expensive lifestyle that he otherwise shouldn't have been able to afford.
It was hard being eighteen and a virgin stil
l, but I'd survive. One day, I'd find the right boy and we'd have sex and it would be magical. Reese would be a distant, shameful memory. And sooner or later, he'd wise up and drop my brother, the wannabe gangster. Then I would be the one laughing at Luke.
But until then, I'd hide away in my room, do what I needed to do to get ready for college, and escape from it all. I'd watch from my window as the two of them played basketball, laughing to myself as Reese obliterated my brother every time. Luke sucked at basketball – most sports, really. He only played so he could look cool next to his new friend from the city. The basketball hoop attached to our garage was just beneath my window, so sometimes they'd catch me watching. Luke would flip me off, Reese would roll his eyes and pretend I wasn't there.
But I could always find some measure of escape in my room. And by escaping, I, of course, meant masturbating, because God knew, I was still very much a young, warm blooded woman with needs and desires that needed to be met.
And yes, I often imagined Reese while I touched myself. Because I knew that he was just the right type of bad who could talk me out of my panties. He'd let me do all the dirty things my heart desired – and I wouldn't have to feel guilty about any of them. Not with Reese.
Not that it would ever happen, of course.
Which is why they were called fantasies.
A Few Months Later
Allie poked her head into my room with an overzealous smile. “We're all going to a club downtown, wanna join us?”
Inwardly, I groaned and stared down at the textbook in my lap. I was studying for a test, my first one in my chemistry class and I wanted to ace it. But there was some small spark of desire in me to get out and have some fun.
“Come on, the test isn't until next week, Maya,” Allie said, rolling her eyes at me. “Don't you want to get to know your sorority sisters?”
Yes, my sorority sisters. Me, of all people, had pledged a sorority – though, it hadn't been my choice. No, my mother had insisted I pledge. She'd been a Delta Lambda back in her college days and wanted her little girl to be her legacy. Even though sororities were so not my thing. I got in – thanks to my mother being an alumna – but I never really fit in. The girls – and my mother – kept trying to get me to come out of my shell, but it hadn't taken very well.
