Billionaire Flawed 2(87)

“After you decided to break it off, I felt something leave me. It was like losing a part of me, and I couldn’t bear it. The shows I did, between then and now, were terrible, and I just haven’t really been myself.

“I want you and this baby in my life. It means a lot to me, Lela. Please stay with me.”

I couldn’t say no to his face, I just nodded.

He smiled and gave me the roughest hug I had ever felt.

“Aiden, you’re on in ten, get ready,” I heard Greg say from behind while sneering at me.

“Liddy should be here to take you backstage in a moment or two.”

He was right, Liddy was already waiting nearby, and she snapped a photo of the two of us mid-kiss.

“I guess I have my first news story,” I said.

“Surely not your last,” he replied.

Then he left, to get made up for the show. Liddy and I walked slowly up the stairs and through the back halls of the stadium.

“I talked to Bruce about the whole thing. He said that Aiden was in a slump. Then I told Bruce what you had said to Aiden and Bruce took it upon himself to talk to the rest of the group. They all wanted him to be happy.”

I wiped a tear off my cheek.

“You’re a good friend, Liddy.”

“Hey, you set me up with the greatest bassist in history. A girl’s gotta watch out for her own.”

I laughed, as did Liddy. I was lucky to have such a great friend.



THE END





The Billionaire’s Secret Love Child – Aisha’s Story – A BWWM Billionaire Romance

1

Aisha had been working for Mr. Conner for a week when she first met Sandy. Of course, she had no way of knowing just how Sandy would affect her life then, but there was something about the woman that made Aisha take notice.

Aisha was just out of college, and it had been her dream to become a sports agent. She had moved to New York after graduating from Boston, though she had been born and raised in Michigan, twenty miles outside of Detroit. Boston had been something of a culture shock, but nothing had prepared her for New York. The massive buildings themselves seemed overpowering at first, oppressive even. Going out on the street, the throngs of people on the sidewalks, the unending stream of yellow cabs in the streets. It was all too much at first. But if she wanted to make it as a sports agent, she needed to be there. The Big City, practically trademarked.

When Anthony Conner was younger, he had been a hot shot agent with the largest sports agency in the world. A decade ago he had left to open his own agency, CSA. Now it was the largest sports agency in the world, and Aisha’s top marks in her classes at Boston had been enough to land her a job as his assistant. Of course, getting coffee and making copies wasn’t exactly what she wanted to do, but she knew you had to start somewhere.

And so she had been sitting at a small desk outside of Mr. Conner’s large corner office when someone approached her. She had been typing up a contract Anthony had needed quickly, and she only glanced up, at first, to see if she knew who it was who was tapping their foot impatiently in front of her desk. She hadn’t recognized the woman, so Aisha had gone on typing as the spoke.

“What can I do for you?” she asked.

“I need to see Anthony,” the woman said.

“I’m sorry, do you have an appointment?”

“I don’t need an appointment,” the woman snapped, and Aisha stifled a sigh and looked up. The woman was Aisha’s opposite it just about every way. Aisha was black, her skin dark, like coffee with just a splash of milk mixed in. The woman in front of her was pale, with high cheekbones and strawberry blonde hair while Aisha had a round face and hair as black as coal. The woman was tall, almost as tall as Mr. Connor himself, and Aisha had always been short, but it worked for her, and added to her feminine qualities, like a curvaceous hourglass figure made up of wide hips and an ample bosom, she looked like something straight out of most men's fantasies. The white woman was angular and sharp, beautiful to be sure, but simply in a different way than Aisha was.

“I’m sorry,” Aisha went on. “He’s booked completely today.”

“Shut up,” the woman snapped, and then she marched past Aisha’s desk and into Mr. Conner’s office.

Aisha was up on her feet in a flash, but she was too slow to stop the white woman, so all she could do was march in after her, and call to Mr. Conner over the woman’s shoulder.

The man sat at his richly lacquered mahogany desk, typing on his laptop. She was glad he wasn’t on his phone, she knew he would be annoyed to be interrupted, but he would have been furious to be pulled off of a call with one of his clients.

“This woman just barged in,” Aisha said, feeling foolish. Of course, she had, and she knew Mr. Conner would be able to tell that since the woman was in the process of barging in. Her boss looked up, and his eyes widened a bit when he saw the white woman.