Banking the Billionaire (Billionaire Bad Boys, #2)(27)

When in the hell had he become so vital to my daily life?

It had to be the Supercock. Or his big hands. Or maybe it was his talented mouth.         

     



 

Yeah, it's none of those things, moron. This isn't a game anymore, my  brain whispered. You're falling straight into the real deal with the  charming ogre.

I quickly shook off those thoughts and set my focus on less confusing things, like getting ready to pick up Mila.

An hour later, I was pulling up in front of Frankie and Claire's sweet  house in Thatch's sweet-ass ride. The Audi in question was red, a  convertible, and drove like a fucking dream. Since owning a car in New  York was generally more hassle than it was worth, it was nice to be able  to drive on occasion. And the car made it that much nicer. I made a  note to myself to find more reasons to borrow this car. Or one of the  others. The proud owner of several, he was no Kline Brooks in that  department.

Mila jumped up from the porch swing and came barreling down their front  steps, sprinting toward the car before I had a chance to get out of the  driver's seat.

"Aunt Cass!" she shouted.

"Slow down, Mila," Claire called behind her, following her daughter's lead while shaking her head in amusement.

Mila didn't waste any time, opening the passenger door and hopping into  the back seat. "Where's Uncle Thatch?" she asked, meeting my eyes in the  rearview mirror.

I turned in my seat to face her, taking in her current attire with  tickled eyes. From the Harry Styles is my boyfriend T-shirt to her rain  boots covered in cut-out magazine pictures of the band, she was decked  out, head to toe, in One Direction gear.

"We're meeting him at his office. Is it okay that I'm coming along today?"

She pumped her little fist in the air. "Yes! I'm so excited!"

"Hey, Cass," Claire said once she reached the vehicle. "I'm surprised to see you today."

"I thought I'd tag along, but only because I wanted to hang out with  Mila," I said, winking at the adorable little girl in the back seat.

"Please excuse her outfit," Claire whispered, leaning over the passenger  door and into my space so I could hear her. "But I couldn't convince  her to change."

"I'm glad you didn't," I whispered back and then said loud enough for Mila to hear, "One Direction is the coolest."

"I love One Direction!" Mila agreed excitedly.

Claire laughed. "She literally made those boots this morning. I have a  feeling you'll be losing pictures of Harry and the gang all over Central  Park this afternoon."

"Let's go!" Mila encouraged. "Bye, Mom!"

Claire laughed. "You think she's a little eager to leave?"

"Maybe just a little bit," I agreed, grinning.

After Claire got Mila settled in her booster seat in the back and kissed  her daughter good-bye, we were on our way, sunglasses on and ready to  rumble.

"You wanna listen to some music?" I asked at a stoplight.

"One Direction!"

Of course, I thought to myself and smiled. "You got it, girlfriend." I  grabbed my phone and pulled up Spotify. Once the perfect playlist-every  single One Direction album-was set up, I hit play and headed for  Manhattan.

"Wooohoooo!" Mila yelled from the back seat. She alternated between  singing the lyrics to every song at the top of her little lungs and  throwing her hands in the air as we cruised back into the city.

Traffic was bustling as we drove up 5th Avenue, but that was the New  York norm. The streets were cluttered with yellow cabs honking their  horns and pedestrians hurriedly crossing the busy intersections.  Tourists stared up at the enormous skyscrapers from the sidewalks and  natives abruptly moved around them, annoyed and desperate to get to  their next destination.

"We need to make a quick stop, okay?" I told Mila as I pulled up in front of Brooks Media.

She clapped her hands. "I hope it's somewhere fun!"

Paul-one of the security guards for Kline's building-strode over toward  our car, irritation etched across his face. "Ma'am, you can't  park-wait … Cassie Phillips?" Paul's irritation turned to intrigue, a soft  smirk covering his lips.

"Hey, handsome." I winked. "How are you?"

"It's been a while, sweetheart. Ever since Georgia left, we never see your gorgeous face around here."

"I guess I should change that, huh?"

He nodded. "Definitely."

"Listen, I need to leave the car here for about fifteen minutes. I just need to run inside and grab something from Dean."

"Cass … I don't know … "

"Oh, c'mon, Paulie." I batted my eyelashes. "I promise we'll be quick."         

     



 

He shrugged. "Okay. But make it quick."

"You're the best," I said, getting out of the driver's seat and helping Mila out of her booster. "I owe you one."

"Dinner with me, and we'll call it even."

I grinned in his direction as I grabbed Mila's hand. "I'm not sure my  boyfriend would be too thrilled with me going out with other men."

"Boyfriend?" His eyebrows rose. "Cassie Phillips has a boyfriend?"

"Her boyfriend is my Uncle Thatch!" Mila chimed in.

Surprise consumed Paul's face. "Thatch? As in Thatch Kelly?"

"That's him!" The little chatterbox continued to speak for me.

I laughed. "This is his niece and fan club, Mila."

Paul kneeled in front of her, holding out his hand. "Well, pretty Mila,  it's a pleasure to meet you," he said as he took her hand and kissed the  top.

She giggled, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously, and I couldn't help  but laugh. This little girl already had men eating out of the palm of  her hand. Her teenage years would give Frankie, Claire, and probably  Thatch, a run for their money.

"Thanks again, Paul," I called over my shoulder as we strode inside Brooks Media.

"Where are we?" Mila asked, looking around the lobby of the Winthrop Building in wonder.

"We're heading to my friend's office. I need to borrow something from him," I explained as I led her onto the elevator.

"I think I've been here before," she said as we stepped off the elevator  and walked through the hallway outlined by various offices. "Does Uncle  Thatch's friend work here?"

"Who? Kline?"

"Yep," she said with a nod, and her ponytail bounced up and down in  response. "Last time I was here, Kline let me play games on his  computer."

"He does work here." Owned the place. Same thing. Knowing Kline, he'd  probably told her he was his own secretary. I grabbed her hand and led  her to the end of the hall, where Dean's office was located. Mila looked  on as I turned the knob and opened the door just slightly. "Is this  where the One Direction fan club meetings are held?" I asked, peeking my  head in to find him typing away on his laptop.

He looked up and grinned. "Only if you brought a ready and willing Harry Styles with you."

I laughed, opening the door wider and ushering Mila inside. "Well, I brought their biggest fan. Does that count?"

Dean stood up and walked around his desk. His grin widened as he took in  Mila's attire. "Little Miss, you are my new favorite person. I want  Harry to be my boyfriend, too."

Mila's hand went straight to her hip, and a determined look crossed her  tiny face. "He can't be your boyfriend cuz he's gonna be my boyfriend.  When I'm thirteen, Harry is gonna marry me. I'm gonna wear a pink dress  and he's gonna kiss me." And she punctuated that statement with a snap  in the air.

Dean laughed, visibly amused by her pint-sized sass. "Will you at least invite me to your wedding?"

She eyed him skeptically and pointed her little index finger in his  direction. "Only if you promise to not eat all the pizza and donuts."

I raised an eyebrow. "Donuts?"

She nodded. "Um, yeah. Harry and me is gonna have pizza and a donut cake at our wedding."

Man, I loved her little mind. My perfect wedding would be pizza and a  donut cake, too. And hell, to be honest, I had never really been  completely sold on kids. But Mila was the kind of little girl who could  maybe get me to consider purchasing some little monsters of my own.

"Deal, little diva," Dean agreed, smiling down at her.

I tugged on her ponytail. "I hope you're going to invite me."

"Duh." She rolled her eyes. "You and Uncle Thatch have to bring my baby cousin to the wedding, Aunt Cassie!"

Dean's eyes bugged out of his head. "Baby?"

I laughed and sliced a hand through the air for emphasis. "No baby."

"Not yet," Mila insisted. "But soon. You just gotta marry Uncle Thatch first."

His head tilted to the side. "Uncle Thatch? Something you need to tell me?"

"Nope."

"Lies-a-Minnelli," he retorted, and I laughed again.

"Later," I agreed. "When little ears aren't around."

"I'm holding you to that because you know I have got to know  everything." He pointed at me and winked. "Okay, so not that I don't  love that you're here, but seriously, why are you here?"