Page 38 of Hired By My Rich Baby Daddy

"No, but…Mr. Love would like to see you."

I frowned. "What do you mean? I was just about to head back to dinner."

"After the commotion he settled in his room, and he requested that you come up to the presidential suite."

My stomach instantly flipped. “Me?”

"Yes, ma'am."

“As in Noree Marcell? Uh…you sure he meant me?”

“Yes.”

Every scenario imaginable started running through my head.

Ky must've noticed the panic written all over my face because she laughed softly.

"Relax. He just wants to chat, and a fresh plate of food will be waiting for you in his suite." She held my dress up. "I'm going to take care of this. You can head up whenever you're ready."

"Okay, thank you."

I closed the door behind her and mouthed, "What the fuck."

Shirtless.

The last thing I expected was for him to come to the door with his shirt in his hand, sweatpants and Nike slides on, and his chiseled chest all out and about on display. He gave me a small smile as he pulled it over his head and stepped to the side, but I didn't walk in. Instead, I just stood in the doorway.

"What's good, love? You coming in?"

I peeked inside, and from what I could see, his room looked like a damn resort, that's how big it was. But I needed to know his reasoning for inviting me over before I even put a pinky toe in his room.

"Well… your assistant said you wanted to chat, but I gotta be honest," I replied. "I know you can have any woman you want because of who you are, but?—"

He cut me off.

"Oh, nah." He chuckled. "This ain't that."

My brows shot up to the damn roof because what did he mean? It wasn't like that? Was he trying to be funny or saying that he wasn't on that type of time with me because of how I looked? Like, I needed him to explain, and fast.

Yeah, I was spiraling, but so what?

"What do you mean by that?"

"Look, Noree, I won't front. I like your vibe and shit, so I wanted to pick your brain a little about this new song I've been working on but can't seem to get right. I figured you'd have an ear for it, and honestly…" He leaned against the doorframe, looking me up and down with that same look from earlier. "I want to know more about you too."

"More about me?" I repeated like a fool. Here was that damn self-doubt again. "So, no sex, right?"

He chuckled. "Damn, that's all you think I want?"

"No, it's not like that. I just… I mean, you're Ozy Love."

He lazily licked his lips. "If I wanted to fuck you, love, you'd have to be a hundred percent on board with it. That's the onlyway I roll. Ain't nobody finna be in here jumping on your back or no shit like that." He kidded, and I couldn't help but burst out laughing because that had actually happened to me before.

"Okay, well, in that case, I will come in." I walked past him, our arms brushing, and I took in all that I was seeing.

His room was chef’s kiss, ten out of ten, with a pool on the balcony, a nice seating and dining area in the living room that was separate from the bedroom, and the biggest TV I’d ever seen up close, probably a hundred inches. I could only imagine what the bedroom looked like, but I wouldn’t be stepping foot inside there, so I guess imagining was all I had.

I turned around and looked at him, and before I could say anything, he laughed. "I know. I've been here a few times, and every time, even I'm like, damn, ain't no other hotel's presidential hittin' like this."