The Billionaire's Caress by Ava Claire

Author:Ava Claire [Claire, Ava]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ava claire romance, billionaire, alpha billionaire, alpha male romance, ava claire, Billionaire Romance, Alpha Billionaire Romance, alpha male
Publisher: Ava Claire
Published: 2017-12-10T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOUR

“Everything okay?”

The smile on my face, which felt like pulling on my favorite t-shirt or opening a window to let the sunshine in, stalled on my face.

My assistant, Simone, was a lot of things; literally a Jill of all Trades. She graduated with a degree in public relations and journalism, combined with a host of extracurriculars that made her stand out from all the other applicants. Things like creating a pop culture blog that rivaled anything coming out of the entertainment sector, volunteering at a nursing home, managing a local coffee shop, and kicking ass on a roller derby team that almost won nationals.

Basically, Simone Ritter was a woman who knew her shit and cared about people. So when she discreetly pulled my door to after I spent our morning brief all smiles, almost whistling before I caught myself because things were finally looking up, I paused to digest her question.

I left my coffee on the desk, my forehead scrunching in confusion. “...yes?” Even though we were in my office and nothing was out of place, from my kick knacks to my stack of things to do, I still scanned the room. Eyeballed the ceiling, like maybe it was all too good to be true and the sky would fall at any moment. “Why do you ask?”

She brought her pen to her mouth, chewing on the end thoughtfully. “I guess I’m just surprised you’re in such a good mood.”

I locked my jaw. “If this is regarding About Us-”

Ouch. I stopped when I looked at her face and saw that she wasn’t referencing all the reports on me at the concert and the lead singer calling me out.

I rounded my desk and plopped in my chair with a grimace. I thought I was keeping my head down, doing a good job of acting like I was A-ok while my home life was in the crapper, but apparently, I was wrong. “Just a bit stressed lately. Nothing to worry about,” I added quickly when she stepped forward, hands on hips, ready to leap into action. Ready to forgive her boss’ rude behavior. “Hold on one sec.”

I left her staring at me quizzically, heading to the break room. Jacob spared no expense when it came to taking care of the employees at Whitmore and Creighton. Along with the swanky cafe on the conference room floor, each break room was stocked with an espresso machine with all the bells and whistles. Usually, I kept it simple with a little sugar to go with my coffee—and I knew that Simone was obsessed with cappuccinos. Her quick response to my question about why she was shocked by my good mood told me that a mere cup of coffee wouldn’t do the trick. Putting up with crabby Leila was worth a cappuccino, at the very least.

I cracked my knuckles, ready to take on the fancy machine that most avoided for fear of becoming the Idiot Who Broke The Espresso Machine. I’d spent two years as a barista at the local hospital while I was in college.

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