Page 8 of Bribed by the Billionaire Bad Boy

Her glare doesn’t lessen at all when it turns back up to me. “You guarantee there’s nothinglewdabout this?The Magpie Girlis a romance.”

I chuckle. It is. I know that. Whether or not anything risque happens, however, I don’t know. I’m only halfway through, after all. Nevertheless, I set a hand against my heart and offer her the other. “Indeed. And Kenneth is a perfect gentleman.”

Though her gaze averts, she takes my hand and lets me help her up as she mumbles, “Not always.” Her fingers slip from mine. She sighs. “Fine. Okay. I’llaudition. There’s no guarantee I’ll make it through that. I’mnotan actress. I’ll probably choke on my words within the first five seconds.”

“Why didn’t you in class just now then?”

Her eyes narrow, and her chin lifts. “Because. A rich jerk was challenging me. And it’s unlike Harriet to turn down a challenge.”

With that, Calypso stuffs the money in her pocket and turns on her heel, trotting away like she hasn’t just accepted another challenge with another rich jerk.

I watch her go, too much anticipation buzzing in my chest.

There’s something about her, from lonely tunes to competitive glints.

It wouldn’t be a stretch to say I’ve found my next obsession.

For however long it lasts.

~*~

“Welcome home, Alexander,” Ophelia, my father’s assistant, greets me when I come through the door and into the wide lobby of our—quite frankly—too-big house. In usual fashion, she’s perusing her tablet, gaze pinned on whatever agenda the screen holds. “Mr. Hawthorn has a meeting in fifteen minutes that he’s preparing for. He asked me to let you know that he won’t be back in time for dinner, but he would like you to let him know how your day went.”

I stare at her and refrain from askingwhenmy father ever is home for dinner. Becauseneveris the answer. I also refrain from asking her not to call meAlexanderbecause she never listens. No one in this house does.

She drags her gaze up off the screen, her blue eyes stern beneath her dark hair. “He’d like to make sure you’re maintaining your GPA at that school.”

“Of course I am.”

“And that you’re excelling in your extracurricular matters.”

Extracurricular. That’s what he calls all the classes directly related to my major. I also bet he never actually asked about them, because he doesn’t care. The fact Ophelia is making an effort doesn’t go unnoticed, though, so I sigh, offering her asmall smile. “Yeah, everything’s going well. I’ll be trying out for a lead in this year’s play end of the week. Fairly sure I’ve already got the part.”

The touch of a smile comes to her lips. “I’m glad to hear it.”

I maintain my smile, even if there’s a hollow pit opening up in my chest. “If my father isn’t going to be around tonight, let Giorgio know I’ll take dinner in my room and start on my homework.”

I barely register her confirmation as I head up the staircase. The long gold railing rests cold beneath my hand, the weight of my satchel threatening to drag me back down the steps. Once I’ve reached the top, I trudge through the bleached hall, making it to the wide expanse of my room and stepping from hardwood to marbled tile.

Sighing, I drop my bag off on my corner desk then plop into the leather chair, taking in the stretch of mostly empty space around me, the high ceiling, the circle of bookshelves consuming the open second floor, and the large window overlooking the garden and pool just past the couch in the center of the room. Flawlessly neat and vacant, it doesn’t even look like I live here.

My phone buzzes.

Jason: Can I borrow $20?

The following image is a picture of his stupid, wide grin while he holds a giant stuffed sloth in a store. His brown eyes and darker skin match the shades of the creature’s eyes and fur almost perfectly, and he seems to agree on the resemblance.

Jason: We’re twins. He’s $30, and I have that, but I came for food, and I don’t have enough for both.

“‘Our leads come from entirely different worlds,’ huh?” I murmur, sending him the money without question or response.

What is it like to have to choose between getting something stupid like a sloth stuffed animal and buying food, or having to work a part-time job while taking an extra class? OlympusCollege of Fine Arts does harbor numerous elite, but no one else going there lives in a place like this and gets to choose which car they’re going to take to school each day in the same manner they decide what they’re going to wear.

Jason: Thanks! I’ll pay you back next week after my check comes in!

He will too. He always does. Despite knowing I don’t need it.

Honesty.