Page 26 of Untouchable Billionaire (The Hardcore Novels: Special Editions #1)
She nods curtly, then steps back into the room. I follow her in and sit at the chair placed in front of the desk. She doesn’t smile at me. Instead, she just slides the paperwork across the surface and says with a thick accent, “Read carefully.”
I pull it to me and scan the pages, then I scratch through Dirk’s name and pen my own on the line, sign it, and slide the lease across.
She frowns. “You rent? Not you buddy?”
“That’s correct.” I nod as I stand to reach in my pocket, pulling out a wad of cash.
She watches me count out the deposit and first month’s rent, then when I hand it to her, she asks, “Why you, not him?”
I shrug and give her my player grin. “I met Ms. Wright yesterday.”
Her eyes narrow, and she wags her finger, saying, “You flyboy. You no good. You leave her alone. She lady. She sweet. She work. She home alone. She good girl. She no party girl.”
I am shocked speechless by her reaction, so my response is simply, “Yes, ma’am,” as I reach for the key on the desk.
She stands and glares at me as I back out of the office. Then, right before I turn my back to her, she says again. “You leave alone.”
On the way to my truck for my duffle bag, I chuckle at Lucy’s protectiveness of Seary. She just confirmed my impression in Vegas was correct. Seary’s a good person, and now I know for sure she’s a sweet, southern girl.
I grin as I lift my duffle bag full of clothes out of the bed of my truck, then the cooler with a few essentials for the fridge. Lucy’s going to be disappointed because there is no way in hell I’m letting this wild thang run free. I’m going to tame her, then claim her.
* * *
Siri
* * *
At my temp job, the six phone lines are busy and leave very little time for daydreaming and further contemplation of Mr. Moore.
The two men in the front office who work with me, Charlie and TD, are away on business, which is a relief. I can concentrate on my job without having to fend off their flirtatious innuendos and ignore their developing sex triangle.
If they only knew what I really do. I laugh and shake my head. I'm glad they don't! But if they did, I could make that threesome awesome. There is a lot to work with. Maybe I will write them a note when I leave and slip it under Charlie's door. A goodbye gift.… Maybe not.
During lunch, I eat my peanut butter and let my thoughts caress Moore and how he made me feel.
He has very refined seduction skills, and his facial expressions made me feel like I was the one woman he wanted.
When he took my hand, his touch was light and gentle, letting me know he is a considerate lover.
The strokes of his thumbs were cherishing, then thrilling—all well-developed skills.
But it is more than that. He has the IT factor, and that's something you either have or you don't. You can't fake it till you make it.
Damn, I am getting hot just thinking about him again. I pick up my apple and bite into it.
In my line of work, I study people's sexuality. Knowing the little things makes me a better exotic performer and entertainer. It's what sets me apart. It's how I became a fan favorite.
The only other man who displayed seductive skills like his was an Italian tennis star who came to Vegas before I gave up dating.
After an enjoyable evening out, in which he exhibited excellent, highly skilled seduction techniques with just the right amount of flirting and flattery, he still didn't make it to second base with me.
He was very hurt and upset. He, of course, expected a good fuck for his time and money, so my name was trashed.
I salvaged the situation by sending Lei to console him.
Unbeknownst to him, of course. She's a real pro, and he soon forgot all about me.
I pop a few blueberries in my mouth and chew them.
But the way Moore's gaze pierces my core, that isn't chemistry. That is something else. Something deeper. Something I've never experienced before. It feels like he is touching a part of my soul.
I sip my carrot juice, then throw my lunch away and wipe down the break-room table. Back at my desk, I resume my secretary duties. The afternoon workflow is slow.
Staring out the window, I see a bird flittering around on the sidewalk, then another one joins it. They flirt, then fly off to fuck.
I put my face in my hands. How did my life get so complicated? I am so lonely.
I get up and pace the floor. I need to learn more about Mr. Moore. I need a plan to see Mr. Sexy … today.
When 4 o'clock rolls around, I hit the door with a smile. Pulling out of the parking lot, plan in place, I'm excited to see him again.
He makes me feel alive. And it feels fucking fantastic.
At Publix, I walk through the doors with purpose and direction. The cashiers all know me, and Janice, who is in the express lane today, pokes fun at me. "Siri, back so soon? Weren't you in here yesterday? Did you forget something?"
"I am out of wine, and I came in too early yesterday." I laugh and joke with her. "I forgot you can't buy alcohol on Sunday until one o'clock. It's like y'all are in the Bible Belt or something, so I had to swing by on my way home tonight."
"Yeah, I follow ya. I guess Sin City stays open and turned on 24/7?"
"Yes, it does. You should come out and try it sometime. You might not come home for years either."
"Yeah, right. I am not going to hell." She blurts out before she realizes she's telling me she thinks I'm condemned. "Sorry, Siri. I will say a prayer for you."
"It's okay, Janice. I'm not offended," but there is an awkward tension between us now.
She focuses on my items. "And the cookies? What's up with the junk food? I thought you were a total health food nut."
"Yeah, well. They are a gift for a friend." I laugh. "Don't look so shocked. Not everyone has shunned me. I have friends here." After a dramatic pause, I roll my eyes. "Okay, only one, but still."
She laughs with me, "I'll be your friend, Siri."
"Great! That's two," and the awkward moment is over.
Out on the expressway, traffic has come to a standstill. There must be a wreck. I hope no one is hurt. As I inch forward, I see the delay. It isn't a wreck. There are cows in the road, and Sheriff Deputies are trying to herd them on foot.
That ain't gonna work, boys. You need some cowboys on horses, or we will have to wait until feeding time when the cows will all go home on their own.
I might as well work on "Happy." I take my iPhone out, play it on repeat, study the choreography, and jot notes.
I am an hour later than usual when I enter the parking lot, but I squeal with delight when I see the Raptor. My parking spot is taken, so I have to drive around to the rear lot.
I should mention to management that they could charge an optional monthly fee for assigned parking. I wedge my car between two minivans.
Grabbing the wine and box of cookies, I decide to take a shortcut through the running trail and come in the rear.
In the elevator, I push #9 and see Mrs. Smith laughing and talking outside the entrance to someone. She looks like she is flirting. I wonder if she has a love interest. Good for her!
When I get off the elevator, I turn to look down at 9G. My new neighbor! Woohoo!
Once inside my apartment, I set the bottle of wine and cookies down on the counter, then rush to my bedroom to strip off the business suit and sports bra I wear to hide my full figure.
I choose a tangerine color push-up bra with a matching tank top, a pair of cream color linen beach pants, and flat sandals to wear.
Slipping them on, I look in the mirror. I look casual, comfy, and curvy.
Snatching the wine and cookies up, I hit the door.
Outside his apartment, I take several deep breaths. For Zeus' sake, why am I nervous? I raise my knuckles and knock.
Wait a minute, and then knock again.
No answer.
Hmm…. A wave of disappointment falls over me, and I turn to head back to my place. Then it dawns on me. He was only signing the papers today.
I take off at a run to my apartment. He was here when I came home. I bet he was the one Mrs. Smith was flirting with! He was waiting on me! And I went in the back!
Holy Hades!
Once inside, I sling the cookies and wine on the counter and rush to my balcony. His truck is leaving the parking lot.
The air in my balloon escapes, and I feel deflated. I stand there watching his Raptor travel down the drive through the gaps in the trees until it is gone from sight. Plopping onto my lounge chair, I grunt, "Fuck!"