Mister Moneybags(36)

There was no fucking way I was ready to let go of her. But she seemed uncomfortable and whispered, “Dex. Your receptionist is staring at us.”

“Let her fucking stare.”

“No, really. I’m fine. We should…we should get down to business.”

I felt her body stiffen in my arms and reluctantly released her. Clearing my throat, I said, “The photographer and his crew are in my office setting up. Come. I’ll show you around quick before taking you to my office.”

My father was a natural braggart. I tended to feel uncomfortable displaying my wealth, but I was desperate when it came to Bianca. I’d do whatever it took to impress her. Before heading to my office, I walked her around the floor and showed her all of the different departments, introducing her to people as I walked. If I was being honest, my presence probably jolted more than a few. It had been at least a year since I’d stopped into some of the areas. Most days, I was buried beneath stacks of prospectuses in my office or off at some meeting.

“It’s much bigger than I thought it would be,” Bianca said as we left the analyst area.

I arched a brow. “I hope you’re referring to Montague and not the photo I sent you last night.”

Her beautiful skin blushed. “I’d like to keep this professional, Mr. Truitt.”

I stopped in place a few doors down from my office. Bianca stopped a few paces after me when she realized I was no longer moving. “Mr. Truitt?” I questioned.

“I’m trying to keep it professional.”

I closed the two-foot gap between us and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Then you might want to try calling me something else. Because hearing you call me Mr. Truitt makes me hard as a rock. I’ve developed a rather large, visual role-play catalog over the weeks we’ve spent corresponding, Ms. George. And hearing Mr. Truitt from your lips is one of my favorite scenes to recall.”

When I pulled my face back to look at hers, her eyes were dilated, and I watched as her throat worked to swallow. I was certain I still had an effect on Bianca George physically—that wasn’t our issue. It was her trust that I needed to win back.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to Joel Aster.”

I allowed Joel and his team to do whatever they wanted for the better part of an hour. Bianca stayed in the background, and at one point, I saw her chatting with Cheri, Miss Big Tits. I tried to make out what the two of them were saying as I posed for shot after shot, but it was damn near impossible. Although, I could have sworn there was tenseness in Bianca’s jaw that hadn’t been there before. Eventually, I called for a break.

Pulling Bianca aside, I said. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Just peachy.”

That doesn’t sound good. “What’s the matter?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. I was thinking I’d take off now. The shoot seems to be almost done, and Cheri is more than happy to take care of anything you might need.”

I went with my hunch. “Actually, I do need you. We’re almost done here, but I thought the magazine should probably get an exclusive look at where I live.”

“Where you live?”

I turned to the photographer who was adjusting his camera lens. “Joel. How would you like to take some shots in my apartment on Central Park West?”

He nearly salivated. “That would be great. I think we got enough good photos here at the office. Some shots of where you live would really give the people an insight into the real Dexter Truitt.”

That’s exactly what I’m banking on.

“Great. I’ll call my driver. There’s plenty of natural light in my apartment. I think it’s safe we won’t be needing the services of a makeup or lighting artist.” I turned to look at Bianca. “Ms. George can let us know what she would like to see inside my apartment.”





“Smart dog,” I mumbled under my breath. Bandit had met us at the door, came to me for a quick pat, and went right to Bianca. She bent down and he buried his head in her chest, nearly knocking her over. No wonder we get along so well. You’re my new wingman, Bandit. Warm her up, but save me some of that, will ya, buddy?

“Bandit. Let Bianca at least come inside.”

“Your dog really seems to like her. He barely even noticed that we were here,” Joel said.

“Do you blame him?”

Inside, I gave Joel a quick tour of the kitchen and living room. While he was taking in the view of Central Park, I returned to the front door where Bandit was still mauling Bianca. Taking his collar, I gave him a slight tug. “Come on, buddy. I’ll bribe you with a treat.”

That bought off my wingman when he took the biscuit and trotted off to my bedroom in the back. He seemed to have commandeered that space as his place to hide his prized possessions.