Page 4 of Don’t Fall for the Billionaire

Chapter Four

Charlotte

“Uptight, rich, motherfucker,” I mumbled to myself as I walked away from him.

He might have been those things, but he was the kind of man who turned heads without even trying.

He stood approximately six feet three inches, commanding and unfairly gorgeous.

It was like he stepped straight out of a fantasy and into my bedroom.

Short dark hair, sharp jawline, full lips, and eyes that didn't just look at you—they unraveled you.

He was dangerously handsome in a way men with power and control always are.

The kind of man who made you forget logic, rules, and the fact that getting involved would be a terrible, terrible idea.

Not that I had planned on getting involved with the man whose name I didn't catch after he rudely yelled at me, took my driver's license, and sent me to the ATM.

After taking out some cash, I went home. When I walked through the door, I saw Melissa and her boyfriend, Adam, making out on the couch.

“Don't stop because I'm home. I'll be hanging out in my room for a while.”

“Oh my God. Don't be ridiculous. Get over here!” Melissa waved me to the couch. “I tried calling you back, but it went straight to voicemail. What's wrong? How did your appointment go? Why are you looking so sad?”

I slowly walked to the couch and sat down between her and Jeremy.

“I am no longer employed. The bank turned down my loan application.

I threw a cupcake out of anger while in Central Park, and it hit some rich guy's pants and left frosting all over them.

Now, he's making me pay for the dry-cleaning bill, and I have to bring him the money to his house after six o'clock or he'll hold my driver's license hostage forever.”

“Excuse me?” Adam's brows furrowed.

“I'm sorry. What?” Melissa shook her head.

“When I arrived at work this morning, there was a sign on the door saying they were permanently closed.

Then an FBI agent approached me and asked where my boss was.

Apparently, he's been embezzling from the company.

And because I am now unemployed, Mr. Schmidt wouldn't give me a loan for the shop, and some guy caught the brunt of my anger via a cupcake in Central Park.”

“Come here.” She hooked her arm around me. “I cannot believe this. What are you going to do?”

“I don't know. I have to find another job ASAP. My dream of opening a pie shop is further than ever now. I guess it's not in the cards for me to be a business owner and make people happy with my pies.”

“That is not true.” Her grip tightened around me. “You'll find another job. Probably one that pays better than the last one, and you'll be able to save even more money. I give you a year tops, and that pie shop will be open. I have something to tell you.”

“What?” I glanced at her.

“Adam's lease is up, and he's moving in. So now, the rent and bills will be split three ways.”

“I hope you don't mind, Charlotte,” Adam said.

“Not at all.” I lay my head on his shoulder. “You're more than welcome to move in. After all, you were Melissa's boyfriend before I moved to New York.” I stood up from the couch. “I have to brush my hair, and then I'm going over to that guy's house to give him his money. I'll see you two later.”

“Wait. Where does this guy live?” Melissa asked.

I took the receipt with his address on the back and looked at it.

“45 West 70 th Street,” I said.

“Shit,” she said, shaking her head. “He's a rich motherfucker. Is he hot?”

“Unfortunately.” I sighed as I walked to my bedroom.

I opened the black wrought iron gate and walked up the steps to the porch. Knocking on the door, a little girl stood there staring at me.

“Hi.” I smiled.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“My name is Charlotte. Who are you?”

“Eloise.”

“Oh my gosh. I love that name.”

“Are you here to go on a date with my dad?”

Instantly, my brows furrowed. Was she his kid? I didn't see a ring on his finger earlier.

“No.”

“Eloise, what have I told you—oh, you showed up.” His eyes stared into mine.

“Like I had a choice. I need my license back.”

“Come in.” He gestured. “Eloise, go up to your room.”

I stepped inside his sprawling home that screamed wealth, and was instantly turned off.

“Nice place,” I said.

“Thanks.”

Reaching into my purse, I pulled out $50 cash and handed it to him. My license, please.” I held out my hand.

He reached into his pocket, pulled it out, and handed it to me as Eloise walked down the stairs, holding a doll.

“Do you like my doll? Her name is Ellie.”

“Is that an American Girl doll? She looks just like you. I had one when I was your age.” I smiled.

“You did?” Her eyes widened.

“I did. Her name was Melanie.”

“Dad, can Charlotte come to my room so I can show her all of my things for my doll?” She looked up at him with her blue eyes.

“I'm sure Charlotte has somewhere to be, sweetheart.”

“No, I don't.” I smiled. “I'd love to see your room and all your doll accessories.” I smiled.

“Yay! Follow me.” She ran up the stairs.

“Wow. There are a lot of stairs in this house,” I said, following behind.

“My bedroom is on the fifth floor. We have an elevator. We'll take that down when I finish showing you my things.”

Of course, there's an elevator in this monstrous house.

As I crossed the threshold into her room, my breath caught in my throat.

The walls were a delicate shade of pink, offset by the pristine white crown molding that traced the edges of the ceiling.

Light filtered softly through the floor-to-ceiling windows, draped with sheer pink curtains.

Against the far wall stood a white canopy bed, its frame draped in a pink comforter patterned with cheerful white daisies and piled high with an assortment of decorative pillows in varying shades of pink and white.

Directly opposite the bed, a white dresser stood alongside a matching armoire.

Above them, a 65-inch TV was mounted to the wall, with white shelves on each side that housed several stuffed animals.

“This is the bed for my doll.” She showed me. “And this is her closet full of clothes.”

“I love it.” I smiled. “I'm sure Ellie loves her things.”

“She does.” Eloise giggled.

The one thing that caught my attention was a large Victorian-style dollhouse in pink sitting in the corner.

“Ah! I love your dollhouse. I had one when I was a child, but it was small. I always wanted a big one, but we couldn't afford it.”

“Do you want to play with it? We can play together.”

“Sure.” I smiled. “I have nowhere to be.”

I heard footsteps from behind. Turning around, I saw him standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets, staring at me.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“We're playing, Dad.” Eloise smiled.

“I need to speak with Charlotte for a moment. Follow me,” He gestured toward the door.

“I'll be right back.” I smiled, patting Eloise's head.

I followed him into the hall.

“My daughter seems to like you.”

“Is that a bad thing?” My brows furrowed.

“No. She can be a little put off by people. Can you stay and watch her while I go out? I'll pay you, of course.”

“Excuse me?” My brow arched. “You want me to look after your kid so you can go out?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“I don't even know your name. You don't know me, and you're trusting me with your kid?”

“Do you have experience with children?” he asked.

“Yeah. I have tons of experience,” I lied.

“Excellent. Then you won't mind staying with her until I get back. And my name is Ashton. Ashton Cross.”

“You'll pay me for tonight? Because I'm currently unemployed.”

“Is that why you were crying in Central Park and threw a cupcake at me?”

“That is none of your business, and for the last time, I did not throw it directly at you. You just happened to be in the path the cupcake decided to go.”

A handsome smile crossed his lips.

“I'll be home around midnight,” he said, walking back into Eloise's room. “Sweetheart, Charlotte is going to babysit you while I go out.”

“Really?” A wide grin crossed her face.

“Yes, really. I'll see you in the morning.” He kissed the top of her head and walked out of the room.