The Boss (A Billionaire Romance)

by Adams, Naomi

  "Then let me go." Clara kicked his shin. When he yelped, she covered her gaping mouth, wide-eyed. "Look what you made me do!"

  He rubbed his throbbing shin and wondered what the hell to do next, "You know that lines' largely used in domestic violence cases, right? I didn't make you act violently. Your ideas of responsibility are all screwed up."

  "I'm sorry, you're right. Oh, are you all right? You know, you push me too far . . .

  "I don't push you far enough, but I will. If I have to."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means until you accept that I'm not going to let you down like your father did, and that I'm not a cold-hearted businessman like my father, I'll push you and push you until you surrender to the truth."

  "I never will." Clara cried, "Never." She made a move to remove the key. "Let me out of here."

  "Shit, won't you give me a chance? Stop judging me by their mistakes!"

  "Don't compare yourself to my father, or pretend to know him. It's because of people like your father that my life was so shit." Tears fell from her slim jaw, "He stole my father from me, Fredrick. Can't you see that?"

  " . . . but while you were missing your father, I missed mine. We were both kids back then, suffering because of our fathers." He stroked her face, longing for this infuriating woman to hold her hammering heart next to his. "Remember, we talked about this? I'm not the bad guy."

  Her stare changed from accusing to inquisitive and this finally offered Fredrick a sprinkle of hope. She went to say something else, but stopped. Fredrick hoped she was remembering their conversations, remembering all they shared, "Please let me go, I . . . "

  He dared to step closer, to rest his hands on her hips, and said, "Don't you see? I can't."

  Clara's eyes darted around his face, her own fear screaming out at him.

  She pushed him away and sniped, "Go spend Daddy's money, rich boy. I've heard enough."

  She turned the key and the doors opened.

  A few people were waiting for the elevator so she smiled at them, pretending nothing was happening.

  Fredrick followed her out of the elevator and pulled her closer to him, and further out of the way of prying ears and said quietly, "A majority of the profits go to charities, so why hate me like this? Sure, I like to eat out now and again and yeah, I bought myself a place to live, but I don't take it for granted or sit on my ass living the high life, do I?"

  Clara snatched her arms free, her lip trembling.

  "I make a difference in this world. I'm not only my father's son. You know what job I do, Clara."

  "Oh, brilliant." Clara folded her arms over her chest. "I knew it wouldn't be long before you played the 'I saved your life' card."

  Fredrick couldn't believe she said that, but it seemed they both found the statement equally ridiculous when they both burst into laughter.

  "I'm sorry I said that," said Clara. "But you're infuriating." She unfolded her arms and slumped into a seat near the exit. She searched his eyes, "Do you really donate the profits?"

  He grabbed a seat from the other side of the door and set it down next to hers, and sat beside her. "I can show you my accounts if it'll settle your mind. And did you actually call me infuriating?"

  "You are."

  Clara looked much better wearing a smile rather than a snarl and seemed to exhale, perhaps relieved?

  Perhaps surrendering?

  Was their fight over?

  "When I can," Fredrick took her hand, "I'll be only too happy to get rid of those places."

  "Really?" she frowned. "Could you leave all that money behind? I'd have thought . . ."

  Fredrick curled his hand behind her neck and pulled her face closer to his, "That's the problem with you, Clara. You over-think everything, and your imagination gets the better of you." Looking at her rosy pout, he longed to kiss her, to end this chapter of their relationship and move on. Pulling her chair closer to his, until they were knee to knee, he smiled, "Sometimes the truth is pure, and it is simple. Sometimes there's no dark intent lurking in the background."

  Her shiny green stare was suddenly a growing pit of watery black, "You won't let me down then?"

  He shook his head, relishing her softer side after the sharpness of her bite.

  She shuddered when he placed his hands either side of her face this time, and he knew when he moved his mouth on hers, she would accept more than his explanation.

  She would accept him into her heart…

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  The newly built room on the edge of the Roulette floor was fitted with two counseling booths, each with staff ready to listen and advise, and a debt advisor.

  The ceremonial red ribbon was in place, the scissors clutched tight in Clara's hand, and around two or three hundred patrons waited for the opening of the brand new assistance center for problem gamblers.

  Clara smiled up at her man.

  He was always so supportive--her alpha with a platinum heart.

  He'd insisted on working with her to make his casinos as supportive of problem gamblers as possible.

  They froze lines of credit sooner, and refused entry to those who lost large amounts regularly.

  But they went further than this with the centers.

  "It saddens me to think how different things might have been for Dad if these support centers were in place when he was around."

  Fredrick squeezed her hand, "I might not disrespect my own so much if he'd done all this while he was alive, either.”

  Clara's performance anxiety had been particularly brutal today, so Fredrick offered to speak for both of them.

  He peered up at the crowd. "Good morning everyone. Thanks for joining us today for this occasion. As many of you are aware, the casino empire left to me by my father was received . . . somewhat reluctantly."

  Some of his friends sniggered, including Clara at his side.

  "Now, I realize a majority of people who come to casinos do so for fun and can afford to lose a little or even a lot of money, here and there. However, this support is for those who need advice. They might be addicted to the highs, and lows, of gambling and need help navigating a route back to health. They may need help dealing with an addicted parent or friend." He squeezed Clara's hand. "For addicts and their loved ones, gambling is no longer fun. At that stage, they need advice, support, and assistance." Clara gazed up into his eyes as he smiled down at her. "Of course, for at least another five years, I have no choice but to be involved in running the Walters Casino chain. So meeting this remarkable woman means I'm more determined than ever to do something to change how damaging these places can be to some." Addressing the audience again, he added, "So, it gives me immense pleasure to open these onsite support services--a fabulous idea from our consultant and my lady-in-life, the wonderful and charitable Ms. Clara James. Please offer her a loud roaring round of applause as she cuts the ribbon."

  He clapped while Clara used the scissors to slice through the ribbon.

  She grinned at him before bowing to the crowd.

  After a deep breath, she said to Fredrick, "Thank you for a wonderful introduction, Mr. Walters."

  She winked and squeezed his hand as she addressed her audience.

  "These services will be rolled out to all casino's in this chain over the next two months. Let's see if we can offer a way for people to reclaim their lives, and if we can prevent other's from getting in so deep in the first place."

  Everyone cheered while Clara offered the front row pamphlets, "Please take one of these and tell your friends--you never know who's hiding their own struggle from you. You will find we offer counseling and advisory support, and a debt management expert who will help those who need it to get back on their feet."

  Everyone started to read the pamphlet and talk amongst themselves.

  Clara grabbed her stomach and whispered to Fredrick, "Crap, I really need the rest room. Sorry."

  She ran off, leaving him watching her flee towards the lad
ies-room.

  Fredrick frowned, wondering why she had to rush off in such a hurry. "Okay, please excuse Ms. James and I for a few minutes. Enjoy the Champagne and nibbles. Jane, our PA will answer any questions and . . . hopefully, we'll be back soon."

  He flashed them his most charming grin and walked as calmly as possible until out of sight, then ran the rest of the way toward the ladies restrooms, through the lobby.

  Chapter 2

  Clara's head whirled and her knees ached pressed against the cold tiled floor as she knelt on them to finish vomiting over white porcelain.

  She flushed the chain and stood to walk on wobbly legs to the basins.

  She hoped washing her face and hands with cold water might wake her from this vile stupor.

  Breathing deeply, still nauseous and sweaty, she groaned and slumped her head into her hands.

  When she heard Fredrick at the door, she turned towards it and the room spun.

  "Let me in, Clara." She couldn't reply in fear of losing her stomach lining. "Your stage fright is much worse today; you're never usually sick after public speaking. What's wrong? Are you unwell?" He knocked again. "Let me in or I'll assume you can't and I'll get someone to remove the door."

  Clara checked her reflection wearily, and whispered to herself, "Wow lady, you look awful. What gives?"

  "Hey, are you talking to someone in there?"

  She replied, "No, just me. I've no idea what's wrong, come to think of it."

  Slowly, the room stabilized and allowed her to move.

  Each step closer taken with caution, she moved to the door and unlocked it to let Fredrick inside.

  "Well?" he asked, bursting in, his eyes wide open. Placing palms to her cheeks, he said, "Shit, you're so pale. You need to see someone . . . this isn't right."

  Clara loved seeing the concern on his face, noticeable by the telltale pinch between his brows. "Oh quit worrying, I'm always pale. I’m sure it's nothing." She thought for a second and rethought one particular possibility. "Wait a minute, what date is it?"

  "The 22nd of October, of course. It's launch day, why?"

  In her head, she counted back to her last period.

  One, three, six . . . no, wait, eight weeks?

  Her whole body tensed, as the glaring obvious crept up her spine. "I can't be . . . "

  "Can't be what. Are you sick?"

  "Well, not really… I might be pregnant though."

  Fredrick froze.

  His facial features locked, wide and stoic.

  Clara imagined her face appeared every inch the same.

  But she still wanted him to grin, dance, and cheer.

  If he was okay with this, she could be.

  Instead, he looked horrified.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  They both roared, "Not now."

  The woman on the other side of the door huffed audibly but didn't knock again.

  Clara reached blindly behind her until she found the sink units and leaned against them. "Wow. This wasn't supposed to . . . I mean, we were careful, right?" She stopped looking into space and turned to Fredrick, "What if I am?"

  "What if we are, don't you mean?"

  "Well, yes."

  Better, at least he's owning this craziness.

  He joined her at the sink units.

  "Well, can't you tell?"

  "Of course not. Well, not for certain—I'm late and I'm experiencing what might be morning sickness. So, I could be. But I never even thought about having a baby before, not till now." She focused on his eyes; strangely desperate for something she couldn't be sure of. "If I am," she crossed her fingers behind her back, "it's only a month old, so . . ."

  "So what?" Fredrick's cheeks paled and he held her elbow, "You want to get rid of our child?"

  "I don't know." No, no, no! "Should I?" Please say no.

  "It's your body," he cleared his throat, his gaze resting on her cheek, not her eyes, "of course, but . . ."

  "Typical."

  He wants me to get rid of it and I want to . . . Scream!

  Clara spun around, facing the basins and saw her reflection again in the mirror.

  Her head felt as though it might explode.

  Of course, he wouldn't want a baby.

  They had only been dating for six months.

  A man can say all the 'I love you’s' he likes, but it doesn't mean he wants to commit to making a life with you.

  Fredrick swung her back around, disturbing her thoughts. "Hey, don't do that. Don't do your thing. Not about something so important."

  "My thing?" Clara sniped, snatching her arm out of his grasp once more.

  "You know what thing I'm talking about. When you assume I'm the bad guy before giving me a damn chance to explain. You never listen to me. You never care about what I say."

  "Oh nice, this is the perfect time for an argument."

  How can he be so insensitive?

  "I just realized I may be carrying your child and you decide it's the perfect time for a character assassination."

  Clara picked up her purse and marched to the door, wanting to get away from the confrontation, hoping desperately she wouldn't faint.

  "We," she said, burping and it burning the back of her throat, "oh pardon me."

  She covered her mouth for a second thinking she might follow-through and vomit.

  But she didn't, and she had to get away from him or lose it completely.

  "Anyway, I have an opening to manage in case you've forgotten, and I'm not hiding in here all day listening to your pop-psychology."

  She reached for the door handle.

  "Stop right there!" Fredrick said, grinding his jaw while his face flushed and eyes glared, stomping over to her.

  Clara jumped back against the wall, surprised by the volume and serious tone of his voice.

  "You're going to have to quit doing this Clara, especially if we're going to raise a child together. Damn it woman, you need to grow up and realize I'm not your father; I won't let you down. Don't always rush to assume the worst of me, or we have nothing--do you hear me?"

  Clara wanted to tell him he didn't owe her any favors, that no matter what, she didn't need him pretending to be okay with this.

  But before she could speak, he yanked her into his arms.

  "Don't you ever just listen, you infuriating woman?"

  "What?" She struggled to break free, "Let me go."

  Tears burned the back of her eyes and she couldn't bear for him to see her acting weak, vulnerable, or needy.

  She wasn't even sure why she was so upset.

  Was he likely to abandon her?

  Was he likely to stay with her out of pity?

  Which did she fear more?

  "I want you," he said, "I always did. And whether you are or aren't pregnant now, having children with you is something I do think about. There, I admit it. But I didn't immediately tell you this just now, because I was as surprised as you were. Because I don't have a pre-planned speech ready for this kind of occasion."

  "And I did I suppose. You think I planned this to get your money, don't you?" Clara argued.

  Yeah, he thinks I planned this.

  He thinks I'm that kind of bitch.

  "No, that's my point--neither of us did. And because you're an adult who also has choices, especially about something so enormous, I wanted to hear your thoughts on it before I said mine. It's your body after all. You're young. Maybe you don't want my baby now, or ever? Maybe you would one day, but you don't want one yet? If I danced around the restroom crying, 'We're going to have a baby,' I might put you in an untenable position. This isn't easy for anyone."

  Clara steadied her breathing, only now realizing she'd been panting, and looked into his eyes.

  He was worried I might not want his baby . . . that he might put me in an 'untenable position.'

  A sob caught in her throat, "Oh man, I'm . . . "

  "Do you understand now?"

  Tears running down her face, she nodded.
r />   Her chest deflated and her spine curved forward into his unyielding embrace.

  In his arms, she always found peace.

  Why did she fight him every step of the way?

  Why did he put up with her?

  "Sorry. Sorry, Sorry."

  The way he took no crap from her, made her need him even more.

  He was strong, assertive, and at times, a little bossy, but he always had her welfare in mind.

  A weaker man wouldn't put up with her insecure snipes drawn from fear, but Fredrick understood where they came from, and he knew exactly how to deal with her.

  He held her tight, her cheek against his chest.

  His booming heartbeat was a bold reminder of his strength and power.

  "Fredrick, I'm such a bitch to you sometimes. I just assumed you wouldn't want a baby with me, and . . . "

  "Yeah, you can be a real bitch, but I get it. You need to stop thinking so hard and start believing. In me."

  Clara held him tight, feeling at once a fool and the luckiest woman alive.

  "I love you, you know, so if I am pregnant, I already love our baby. I couldn't kill her."

  Fredrick hoisted her up on the sink units, so they were eye to eye. "Honey, that's exactly how I feel for him."

  "You want a boy?"

  What if it's a girl?

  Stop thinking, stop thinking!

  "No," he kissed her forehead, and she knew he could see her stupid thoughts painted on her face. "I want our baby."

  A wave of love aroused Clara, and slowly, she unzipped his pants while watching his reaction.