“That’s exactly why I can’t take his call!” I moaned as the phone buzzed again, vibrating across the glass tabletop. “I can’t be doing that sort of stuff with my boss!”
“Why not? You’ve already been accused of doing it. Why not just embrace your reputation and go for it?”
“My reputation as a whore home wrecker?” I growled. “Yeah, no thanks. I’ll pass on that.”
“First of all, he’s not married. Second of all, he’s a billionaire, Belle. You wouldn’t have to worry about anything every again.”
I silenced my phone once more.
“So I’m just supposed to, like, marry him now?” I asked. “After one little kiss? Alden’s a New York City playboy. He’s got models and actresses just hanging off him every time he steps out of his Bentley in Manhattan. He’s gonna marry me? A maid?”
“I thought you were a housekeeper?” Sara laughed. “And the fact that you are even thinking about what I said means you consider it a possibility. He must have made quite the impression on you.”
Was I really thinking about that? Marriage? Something long-term with a man I’d just met?
My phone buzzed again and I sighed and looked at my friend who was grinning. She always loved seeing me squirm.
“You need the money, babe,” she replied. “I’m gonna be gone soon—”
“Don’t say that!” I moaned, clutching my vibrating phone.
“I’m gonna be gone soon and you can’t afford this place on your own.”
“What if he wants to, like…make me his sugar baby or something?” I asked. “And what happens to my reputation when that gets out?”
“Babe, you know I love you,” Sara smiled. “But you don’t have much of a reputation left.”
“Gah!” I groaned. She was right of course, but hearing it again, especially from my friend’s mouth, hurt my heart.
So, I did the only thing I could do; I answered the call.
Chapter Three
Belle
“Belle Blanche,” I answered warmly, as though I didn’t have his number saved in my phone.
“Hello, Belle.” Alden’s voice was like sweet honey through the speaker and I felt a stir in my nether regions.
“Hello, Mr. McLaren,” I said, trying to hide my excitement.
“Call me Alden,” he said firmly. “Listen, I feel bad about the way we left things. Why don’t you come back and we’ll finish the interview?”
“Now?” I asked, my eyes on Sara. “You want me to come back to finish the interview now?”
“Is there a problem with that?” he asked. “I’m a man of action and don’t like to wait on things. We can discuss hours, salary and other things.”
“Other things?”
Sara just about squirmed out of her seat and slapped me excitedly on the knee.
“That’s right,” he said simply.
“Oh…okay,” I replied, giving in. “I’ll be over soon.”
Without waiting for his response, I hung up and set my phone aside. My heart was about to thump its way out of my ribcage and I was panting with excitement and nervous energy.
“Good job, babe,” Sara smiled. “Looks like you just won the fucking lottery.”