Dilf（A Secret Baby Bad Boy Romance）(287)

It's not until 51st street that I realize where I'm at. I need to get off this train and go to work. My mind snaps to the present, and I back away. The doors of the train swoosh open and without saying a word, I turn around and leave. I don't look back. I can't afford to. I can hardly believe the whole encounter, and I'm now running as fast as I can. My mind is reeling. What exactly happened? I chalk it up to an only-in-New-York experience, collect myself, and head into work.

The offices of Carter Jeffries are bustling. I don't even make it to my desk before I'm approached by my Managing Director, Nadia Moore. She’s tough as nails but she’s always been fair to me. She’s climbed the corporate ladder and I kinda wanna be just like her when I grow up – powerful and strong. But something about her sorta scares me. Like she traded in her soul.

I don’t know if I want to do that to myself.

"Where have you been?" she asks.

"I know; I'm sorry I'm late. It's been a crazy morning," I say. Crazy is an understatement, but it's the word that immediately comes to mind. I mentally tell myself that I'll have to fill her in later.

"It just so happens that our client is late too, so you're in luck, but you should hurry."

I thank her and walk to the conference room, reviewing the main points of today's meeting.

Remember, this is an ultra high net worth individual, I tell myself. I know that I have a golden opportunity to help this client grow his wealth and plan it accordingly.

I mentally review his portfolio performance.

I've spent the last week preparing for this moment. I suspect he'll want to discuss tax and estate planning as well, so I make a mental note to bring this up with the client.

And just as I enter the conference room, a secretary buzzes me on the intercom and alerts me that the client has arrived. "He should be there any moment," she says.

And true to her word, I see that he's not alone. With him is an entourage of lawyers. Serious looking men in black suits. They file into the conference room and begin sitting at the long mahogany table. I'm wondering to myself which one of these men is the client—could it be one of these serious looking men in a black suit?—when another, younger man enters. He's clean cut, handsome—wait… I know this man.

No way… This can't be! He's the man from the train. This is the billionaire client. He walks into the conference room with that million-dollar smile lighting up his face, when he turns and sees me. Our eyes lock onto each other with a knowing gaze.

Have you ever been so nervous that you felt your heart in your throat?

That's me right now.