Daddy's Friend Collection: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance Book Bndle by Brent Amy

Author:Brent, Amy [Brent, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-12-13T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

I arrived at the hotel bundled up in the heaviest coat I owned, a thick scarf wrapped around my face. The snow had started early that morning, and the roads were already slick by the time I pulled into the parking garage. I was hoping that the bridges wouldn't be closed before I finished with the interview. If they closed both the Ben Franklin and the Walt Whitman, I'd be stuck in the city overnight.

I took the elevator up to the ground floor and spoke to someone behind the front desk. They sent me to the conference room Hal had reserved for us. It was big enough to hold a board meeting in, with a long wooden table surrounded by more than a dozen chairs. Far more than we needed for the interview, but it would do.

Hal kept me waiting almost half an hour before he showed up. Apparently big football stars didn't have to worry about being on time. He strolled in like he had all the time in the world, hands in his pockets, a bit of a swagger to his step. He was wearing a silk shirt and pants that had probably cost more money than I made in a week. The sleeves were rolled up, revealing a few tribal tattoos on his arms. I'd never seen a billionaire with tattoos before. It made me wonder if Bill Gates had any.

“Jane?” he asked, extending his hand. I shook it, noticing he had a very strong grip. That wasn't a surprise, considering what he did for a living. “Glad you could make it. Sorry to keep you waiting. If I'd known I had such a lovely lady waiting for me, I would have hurried down here sooner.”

I ignored his flirting. I was here for business, not to get hit on. “Can we get started?” I asked. I sat at one end of the table, with my notebook in front of me and an audio recorder sitting between us. “This won't take long at all. I just want to get some details about your investments, what led you to your financial decisions, that sort of thing.”

He sat down and propped his feet up on the table, crossing one ankle over the other. “Nobody ever asks me questions about money,” he said. “Usually reporters want to know what sort of thing was going through my mind when I threw the touchdown pass that won us the Superbowl last year.”

“I'm not that sort of reporter.”

“I can tell,” he said. He eyed me up and down, his gaze lingering on my large, firm breasts. “You're far sexier than the last reporter I talked to.”

My face heated up, but I tried my best to ignore the feeling. “What can you tell me about your involvement with GMS?”

“Eh, that's nothing too interesting,” he said, still running his eyes all over my body. I had generous curves, and his gaze was caressing every one of them. “I went to school with Brett. When I got my first signing bonus, I invested it in her family business.

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