Page 284 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Penny

"I’m so sorry, Ma, I thought I’d find a way to keep you here but I’m at my wit's end. I could have accepted that assho— Uh, Abby’s brother’s offer, but he’s such a bast— Uh, unpleasant man, that I didn’t think it was right to give him the chance to manipulate me.

And he would have. If I’d gone to work for him, he’d use it to his advantage.

I know that. And you know I’d have done such a good job for him.

Working as an assistant to a hot-shot CEO is probably the only thing I haven’t tried.

And I have a feeling I’d be good at it. After all, the only thing I’m good at is typing, and I’m organized—mostly—and given my last two, no, three career options"—If you include my attempt at becoming a submissive—"didn’t work out, I’m kind of up against it.

" I drag the comb through her greying locks. I’m seated behind her at the tiny dresser in her room at the care home.

Last night, Knight insisted on dropping me home.

I was so taken aback by first, his announcement that he had the bar emptied so he could talk to me un-interrupted, then, he all but accused me of putting my interests before that of my mother.

After which, he stayed silent all the way to my place.

Now, he knows where I live, but that’s the least of my worries.

This morning, I woke up early and came to see my mother at the care home.

I have another twenty-four hours until her time here runs out, and I’m no closer to finding a way to pay the fees for the next month. Maybe Knight was right. If I weren't so prideful, I’d have accepted Knight’s offer. I hunch my shoulders.

I did look into selling my body. I checked out the website where I heard women could strip and make money, and promptly clicked out of it.

No way, do I have the courage to pose naked in front of a camera.

As for going through with using my body for sex…

I’m not sure where to start. I suppose, I could look for another place like the 7A Club, but the thought of anyone else’s hands on me made me so nervous, I began to feel sick to my stomach.

I shut my computer and pulled the covers over my head at two a.m. this morning.

I barely managed to get a few hours of sleep before coming to meet my mother.

It helps to talk to her. She doesn’t respond, but saying my issues aloud makes them feel lighter.

The sound of my voice always seemed to soothe her.

She also loves her hair being smoothed out.

I place the comb down on the bed, then twist her hair up into a bun and pin it.

"There, that looks good, eh?" I glance up at her reflection in the mirror.

“Thank you, dear,” she smiles at me. There’s a twinkle in her eyes, and she seems so like the mother I once knew.

Then her forehead wrinkles. “You look so much like my daughter. What did you say your name was again?”

My nose stings. Tears prick the backs of my eyes. I will not cry. I will not. “It’s Penny,” I manage to choke out. “My name’s, Penny.”

“That’s my daughter’s name. What a coincidence.” She laughs. “I must tell her the next time I see her. I’d tip you for your help, but I don’t have money. I’ll have to ask my daughter when she comes by.” Her lips turn down.

“It’s okay; don’t worry. You don’t need to tip me.”

She's silent for several minutes before her forehead furrows and she laughs. “Of course I don’t need to tip you. You’re my daughter, silly girl.”

“Mom!” I burst out. “Mom, you recognize me?”

“Of course I recognize you. I’m so happy you’re visiting us. Eric should be home very soon—” Her gaze grows vacant. She stares through me, and I know I’ve lost her.

I don’t know if it’s worse when she doesn't recognize me at all or when she's coherent for a little while, then forgets who I am. And she thinks my father's alive. Not an unusual occurrence.

On a good day, she’s coherent enough for us to have a normal conversation.

There have even been a few days when she’s been her cheerful self throughout the entire visit, though those days have been dwindling, of late.

She grows more withdrawn and confused as the day wears on, which is why I prefer to come in the early part of the day to see her.

How much longer will I be able to do that?

How long can I keep pretending that the mother I knew isn't all but gone in flesh.

The ball of emotion in my throat grows bigger.

I swallow around it and scan her features—pale cheeks, thin lips, hollows under her eyes.

Vestiges of her beauty cling to her features, and if I stare hard enough, I can still see the animated mother who’d drive me home from school, play the piano in the mornings so I’d always wake up to the sound of one of her favorite sonatas, hold my father’s hand and mine when they took me to my first opera as a birthday surprise…

She gave up so much for my happiness, even turned her life upside down to move to another country, just to be close to me in London.

And how do I repay her? By not even making it as an actress.

Not being able to pay for her to remain in the home she’s grown to love.

"I’m such a selfish daughter." I swallow down the tears that threaten to overwhelm. "I’m so sorry, Ma, I wasn’t able to help.

I’m sorry I was too self-involved to realize the true state of your health.

But I promise, we’ll find a way. I’ll take you home.

It’s a flat I share with Mira, but you can have my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch and—"

A knock on the door has me glancing toward it.

The manager of the place, Sunita, stands there.

There’s a grim look on her face, and her lips are pinched.

Oh, god, I thought I had another twenty-four hours before having this conversation, but there’s no putting it off.

I place the comb on the dresser, then bend and kiss my Mom’s cheek. "Let’s get you into bed, shall we?"

I urge my Ma to her feet, and once she’s in bed, I pull the covers over her, then step out of the room. Sunita shuts the door. We stand in the hallway, and she opens her mouth to speak, but I raise my hand. "I know what you’re going to say, and I did everything I could to avoid it, I promise."

She just looks at me without saying a word.

I square my shoulders. " Honestly, I tried everything. If there was any other way out, I’d have taken it," I lie. "I don't want to move her out of here, but—"

She blinks. "You don’t have to take her out of here, but you insist you’re going to. What is the rationale behind that?"

"I thought I’d find the money to pay and keep her here, but—" I blink. "Hold on, did you say I don’t have to take her out of here?"

She raises a hand. "That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. You don’t have to move her."

"But I don’t have the money to pay to keep her here."

Her scowl deepens. "What are you talking about?"

"That I’ve been unable to find a way to keep her here."

She leans forward on the balls of her feet. "But her bills have been paid."

I freeze, open and shut my mouth, but nothing seems to emerge. I seem to have disconnected from my body and am looking down at the scene unfolding. So, this is what a brain fart looks like?

"Penny?" Sunita waves her hand in front of my face. "Penny, you okay?"

I draw in a breath and my lungs burn. "Her bills have been paid?" I manage to choke out.

"Yes, and for the next twelve months."

"B-by whom?"

Her gaze widens. "You don’t know who paid your mother’s bills?"

I open my mouth to agree, then give myself an inward shake. Don’t kick a gift horse in the mouth. Take it and move on. You want your mother to stay here, don’t you?

"Ohhh, I know who did. It was my new boss."

"New boss?" She tilts her head. "You found a new job?"

"Yes, yes, I’m going to be the assistant to the CEO of Warren Media."

"Warren Media?"

"Yes, he’s my friend Abby’s brother. That’s how I got the job, and as part of the deal, he—I mean, the company—agreed to pay for my mother to stay here."

She smiles. "That seems like a generous offer.”

I shuffle my feet. It’s a guess on my part to say it’s Knight who paid the bills, but who else could it be?

No one else I know has that much money to spend.

But why would he do that? And for the next twelve months?

I pull my phone out of my pocket and pretend to gasp.

"Look at the time. I need to go meet my new employer. "

"You’re meeting him at five p.m.?" Her forehead furrows.

"Oh, yeah. I officially start tomorrow, but it’s a preparatory session.

These big companies—" I roll my eyes. "They’re so particular.

" And now I can’t stop the lies that spew out of my mouth.

I wave my hand at her. "Well, thank you again for being so helpful.

I gotta go." I brush past her and walk down the corridor and out of the building.

My head is swimming. A strange floating sensation fills my limbs. It feels like I'm in a dream, walking through a thick syrup. I manage to make it to the tube and head over to Knight’s office building. I enter, march up to the reception and announce, "I’m here to meet Knight Warren."

"Do you have an appointment?" The receptionist sniffs.

"I don’t, but he’ll see me."

She looks down her nose at me. "I’m afraid he won’t be seeing you if you don’t have an appointment, and—"

"Penny?" His rough, hard voice rolls down my back. Sparks of awareness flicker off my nerve-endings.

The receptionist in front of me jumps to her feet so quickly, her chair overturns.

Her face is flushed a deep red, and her pupils are dilated.

OMG, is she going to have an instant orgasm right now?

Not that my thighs are not quivering. And the inner walls of my pussy are clenching.

My panties are not so drenched, I can feel the wet fabric sticking to my inner thighs.

But seriously, does he have that effect on everyone?