Page 68
Story: The Playboy Billionaire
I’ve never been protective of a woman before, especially with my friends. But April has been through enough. She doesn’t need any of thesereprobatesmessing with her.
“She’s been through a lot,” I say, feeling the need to defend my actions.
“Down, boy. No one’s going to take or hit on your new toy,” Xander chuckles.
“She’s not a toy,” I snap, only to be surrounded by their laughter, and I realise I’ve just walked straight into their trap.
“Sorry, Caleb, I’m only teasing.” Xander squeezes my shoulder, and I realise my friends are now staring at me with added interest.
“Our friend is heading down a slippery slope. Marcus mark two.” Quentin laughs.
“You’re just jealous,” Marcus says.
Quentin flinches, although he recovers quickly, adding, “Next time we visit, his bachelor pad will be filled with coloured pillows and fluffy throws.”
I roll my eyes, and my mind wanders to Gabriel’s apartment,which Leah has turned from a cold, sterile shell into something warm and inviting.
“He’ll be ball and chained,” Tristan adds.
Quentin lets out a fake sob, “Hearts are breaking all over the city tonight.”
They continue their tirade until our lunch is delivered, and I let them.
My mind wanders to April, and I wonder how she got on with Chloe. She sent no more messages. Samuel must have convinced her to accept my support, or at least I hope he did. I take both of their silence as a good thing.
Lunch ends, and we say goodbye, with everyone heading back to their respective offices.
I finally makeit home by seven-thirty. I met with the fire officer to discuss their initial findings. Antiquated electrics look to be the cause. The building was a death trap, a fire waiting to happen. The thought leaves me cold.
The leftover structure is unsafe and will need to be pulled down as soon as possible or made safe to ensure no one can get in. Wes and I have spent the past couple of hours talking to the planning officers and builders, ensuring they carry out the recommendations to make the remaining structure is secure. It might be late, and the fire only occurred yesterday, but the Frazer name makes people act.
I enter the apartment to the smell of food—home-cooked food. April is in the kitchen at the stove. I cringe when I catch sight of her wearing the inappropriate novelty apron, Xander bought me for Christmas. As if sensing me, she looks up. Her face is makeup free, and her hair tied up in a messy bun. When she looks up and smiles, my heart stops for a second.
“Hey,” I say. “What are you doing?”
Her smile falters. “I hope you don’t mind. I thought I’d make us dinner. Paula said she usually cooks for you and leaves it in the warming drawer. I said I’d do it as a thank you.”
“Of course I don’t mind.” I step into the kitchen and throw my wallet and keys down on the side. “You’re living here. I want you to make yourself at home.”
Her cheeks take on a hint of colour.
The ribbing by the boys at lunch comes back to me, and I bite back a smile. I wonder how they’d react if the sofa is covered in throws and pillows the next time they come for a boys’ evening. I’m half tempted to order my own just to see.
“Well, I’ve made roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. Paula said it’s your favourite, but she struggles to do it because it’s soggy by the time you get home.”
I’m touched by her thoughtfulness.
“Let me get changed, and I’ll come back down and help.”
“No need. Everything is in hand. Should be ready in ten minutes,” she says, stirring what looks to be gravy.
I go to leave.
“Er, Cal.”
I turn at the sound of her voice.
“I’m sorry if I seemed ungrateful this morning.” She runs a hand down her face and sighs. “I’m not used to people doing things for me. I’ve spent a lot of years looking after myself.” She shifts awkwardly. “Thank you for the phone and the clothes. I’ll repay you as soon as I can.”
“She’s been through a lot,” I say, feeling the need to defend my actions.
“Down, boy. No one’s going to take or hit on your new toy,” Xander chuckles.
“She’s not a toy,” I snap, only to be surrounded by their laughter, and I realise I’ve just walked straight into their trap.
“Sorry, Caleb, I’m only teasing.” Xander squeezes my shoulder, and I realise my friends are now staring at me with added interest.
“Our friend is heading down a slippery slope. Marcus mark two.” Quentin laughs.
“You’re just jealous,” Marcus says.
Quentin flinches, although he recovers quickly, adding, “Next time we visit, his bachelor pad will be filled with coloured pillows and fluffy throws.”
I roll my eyes, and my mind wanders to Gabriel’s apartment,which Leah has turned from a cold, sterile shell into something warm and inviting.
“He’ll be ball and chained,” Tristan adds.
Quentin lets out a fake sob, “Hearts are breaking all over the city tonight.”
They continue their tirade until our lunch is delivered, and I let them.
My mind wanders to April, and I wonder how she got on with Chloe. She sent no more messages. Samuel must have convinced her to accept my support, or at least I hope he did. I take both of their silence as a good thing.
Lunch ends, and we say goodbye, with everyone heading back to their respective offices.
I finally makeit home by seven-thirty. I met with the fire officer to discuss their initial findings. Antiquated electrics look to be the cause. The building was a death trap, a fire waiting to happen. The thought leaves me cold.
The leftover structure is unsafe and will need to be pulled down as soon as possible or made safe to ensure no one can get in. Wes and I have spent the past couple of hours talking to the planning officers and builders, ensuring they carry out the recommendations to make the remaining structure is secure. It might be late, and the fire only occurred yesterday, but the Frazer name makes people act.
I enter the apartment to the smell of food—home-cooked food. April is in the kitchen at the stove. I cringe when I catch sight of her wearing the inappropriate novelty apron, Xander bought me for Christmas. As if sensing me, she looks up. Her face is makeup free, and her hair tied up in a messy bun. When she looks up and smiles, my heart stops for a second.
“Hey,” I say. “What are you doing?”
Her smile falters. “I hope you don’t mind. I thought I’d make us dinner. Paula said she usually cooks for you and leaves it in the warming drawer. I said I’d do it as a thank you.”
“Of course I don’t mind.” I step into the kitchen and throw my wallet and keys down on the side. “You’re living here. I want you to make yourself at home.”
Her cheeks take on a hint of colour.
The ribbing by the boys at lunch comes back to me, and I bite back a smile. I wonder how they’d react if the sofa is covered in throws and pillows the next time they come for a boys’ evening. I’m half tempted to order my own just to see.
“Well, I’ve made roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. Paula said it’s your favourite, but she struggles to do it because it’s soggy by the time you get home.”
I’m touched by her thoughtfulness.
“Let me get changed, and I’ll come back down and help.”
“No need. Everything is in hand. Should be ready in ten minutes,” she says, stirring what looks to be gravy.
I go to leave.
“Er, Cal.”
I turn at the sound of her voice.
“I’m sorry if I seemed ungrateful this morning.” She runs a hand down her face and sighs. “I’m not used to people doing things for me. I’ve spent a lot of years looking after myself.” She shifts awkwardly. “Thank you for the phone and the clothes. I’ll repay you as soon as I can.”
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