Page 23 of The Forbidden Billionaire
Briefly, I think about my father’s announcement that he’s going to sell the company if one of us doesn’t settle down and have a family soon. I love our company and I’d hate for it to be sold to the Rutherfords. And the thought of getting back into the dating pool fills me with horror.
I remember when I told my father I’d broken up with Dom. He’d been disappointed, and he’d said, “No man is perfect, Aurelia, remember that.” Of course, I hadn’t told him the whole story. But maybe it’s better the devil you know? At least Dom is financially stable and good looking. He was a good boyfriend… if you didn’t count the control factor. Could he have changed after our argument, become more thoughtful, more attentive to his partner’s wishes?
I shiver. I’m not sure I want to test that. I have no intention of getting back with him. But it doesn’t mean I don’t have to look nice.
I pin my hair up, because he always said he loved it like that, finish my makeup, then grab my purse and head down to the basement. I’m not seeing him until one, so I’ll go into the office first.
The elevator doors open, and the first person I see is Luke, leaning against the Range Rover. I see the brief expression of surprise on his face as he spots my appearance before he carefully smothers it.
“Morning, ma’am,” he says, pushing off the car and opening the passenger door.
“Morning.” I get in, and he waits for me to tuck my skirt in, then closes the door.
Once he’s in the driver’s seat and we’re buckled in, he starts the car and heads out onto the road.
“You look nice today,” he says.
“Don’t start.”
“It was a compliment! How is that starting anything?”
“I know you’re commenting on the fact that I’ve made an effort for Dom, and I’m cross with myself for it, so please, keep your observations to yourself.”
He doesn’t reply.
I pull out my phone and bring up the coffee shop app. “Latte?”
“You don’t have to buy me a coffee every morning, ma’am.”
“You’d rather drink the brewed coffee in the security office?”
“Er…”
“I keep telling them to buy a capsule machine. That brewed stuff is so strong you could use it for building brick walls.”
He gives a short laugh. “Yeah. It’s Rick’s fault. He likes it like that.”
“I’ll stand you a latte; it’s the least I can do.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it.”
“Need to keep you awake. Can’t have you falling asleep on the job.”
“God forbid.”
After a minute or so, I say, “So… you like my outfit?”
He glances at me. “You look lovely.”
“Oh.” I’d expected a sarcastic comment, or something more professional, a stiffYes, ma’am.
“He used to like this top.”
“I’m not surprised.”
I look down and realize the two wrapover sides aren’t quite wrapping over enough, and my bra is visible. “Fuck.” I pull the material up to make sure it covers my cleavage. “Were you going to let me go into work like that?”
“I don’t think it’s my place to give fashion advice, ma’am.”
