The Billionaire's Wife: The Complete Collection(9)

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Miss. He’s very busy.” The woman is the most exasperating person that I have ever met. She could most certainly keep the dogs at bay but good God was she aggravating when you were one of the dogs. Throwing my hands up at her I head for the revolving door. If he won’t see me then I’ll sit in the bar across the street and wait for him to come out, he has to go home sometime. This man will hear exactly why I don’t need his pity, his charity charity positions.



The Winston Arms is an oddly rundown pub for sitting on the city block across from Lambert Enterprises. It’s not sleazy, but it’s no high class establishment either. The solid oak bar wraps around a square in the center of the room, providing a two sided bar that serves two separate rooms with a doorway on each side of the bar to pass between the two. The floor is sticky and worn and while it isn’t crowded it definitely looks like the type of place that has “regulars.” A few of those “regulars” sit at the bar with plates of greasy bar food and pint glasses of beer. They huddle together talking of mergers and ‘what a bitch that Marilyn in accounting is’ and I try my best to avoid their gaze as I walk in. After that little encounter with Olivia I sure as hell don’t feel like being ogled or drawn in to a random conversation by bored businessmen looking for entertainment.



“What can I get ya?” The bartender swings around from the back side of the bar looking directly at me. He has a mop of blond hair that reminds me of the first night that I met Gideon and how that flop of brown hair kept falling over his eyes.



“Umm…I’m driving so I guess I’ll just take an orange juice? Urgh I wish I wasn’t driving, I could so use a few shots of tequila about now!” The bartender cracks a smile and winks at me.



“Rough day?” He is already pouring my orange juice in an elegant tapered glass.



“You could say that.” He places the glass on the bar along with a small napkin.



“It can only get better right?” He seems like a nice enough guy but to be honest I’m still so pissed off at Gideon that I don’t want to hear it. I sigh and wrap my fingers around the glass which is already starting to condensate.



“Yeah, I guess. How much do I owe you?”



“$3.25 and a smile…please?” This guy isn’t going to quit so I flash a quick smile and fish in my purse for my wallet…and keep fishing. As I flail around desperately I realize that not only did I take my wallet out of my purse last night, but I also took my cards out of my wallet to slip them in to my gym pants, so that I wouldn’t look like I was carrying a concealed weapon while slaving away on the treadmill. Fuck, I can already feel the blush rising in my cheeks. There are few things more embarrassing that going to pay for something and not having the means to do so.



“Shit, look, I’m really sorry but I can’t find my wallet, I think I left it at home.” The bartender flashes a smile again and just as he’s about to say something, which I’m sure was ‘don’t worry, this one’s on me,” a big hand grasps my shoulder. I want to turn around and see just who that hand belongs to but on the other hand I’m absolutely terrified it will turn out to be one of the faceless middle aged men from Gideon’s building trying his luck or one of the guys who was just bitching about Marilyn in accounting.



“Don’t worry Dave, I’ve got this one.” As soon as he speaks I know it’s him, I’d know that velvety voice anywhere. Gideon’s fingers squeeze harder on my shoulder and he leans down, his mouth brushing against my ear. “I hear you’ve been giving Olivia some trouble…”



“Well, Olivia was a little less than accommodating.” My voice is far less confident than I had hoped and it certainly didn’t convey just how aggravated I was with him. I feel his warm breath brush against my ear and it sends shock waves throughout my body. There is something about this man, something that drives to the very core of me, something that makes my body ache and my pussy sing for that fat throbbing cock of his. I find myself drifting in to the memory of him fucking me in the basement bar, the memory of him rubbing his cock against my feet, the memory of how hard he made me cum and how much he left me aching for more.



“Ahh, so I should fire her?” He snaps me from the reminiscing and I spin around to look at him, shocked that he would even suggest something like that.



“No, that’s awful! I don’t want to be responsible for someone losing their job! And speaking of hiring and firing, I don’t appreciate you sending charity charity work my way. I can find my own gigs, thank you very much. I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me.” I know it’s a lie and I’m fairly sure that he does too. I need all the help I can get when it comes to making connections and getting work, but I need to be angry at him right now. I need to let him know just how disappointed I am and how used I feel. I grab my drink off the bar and head over to a table in the darkest corner of the room. Gideon wastes no time following me, a look of confusion on his face.