Page 20 of The Bossy Billionaire

I watch her walk away from me and hate it. And hate Sandra even more.

“Ohh, Huxley, so nice of you to walk the disabled girl up the red carpet. I didn’t know you were so chivalrous,” she purrs, and I wonder how I ever found her to be attractive. We had two nights together about six months ago, and I can barely remember them. I am not looking for a repeat.

“She isn’t disabled,” I growl, immediately angry, not liking her talking about Lucy like that. My eyes find Lucy again, and I watch her from afar as she grabs a glass of champagne from the nearby waiter and gulps it immediately. Valerie Van Cleef, a well-known Baltimore socialite, stops and speaks to her, the two of them now smiling and chatting. I wasn’t lying to Lucy earlier; she is fucking stunning, and I fist my hands at my sides, noticing every man in the space now watching her too, all with hunger.

“Oh.” Sandra scoffs, flapping her hand in the air. “You know what I mean. So it has been too long since I last saw you in Baltimore. Want to catch up later? I have a room at the Four Seasons,” she murmurs, leaning in farther, making her intentions clear. It is at this moment I thank God I had enough brains to buy an apartment here in Baltimore six months ago; otherwise, I would be staying at the same hotel. Running into Sandra over breakfast would ruin my day for sure.

“Not tonight, Sandra,” I say, fixing my cuff, feeling agitated. I am about to walk over to Lucy, but I pause as another man walks up to her, making her acquaintance just as Valerie leaves her. Shit. Just like plumber boy from the business summit, the men are flocking to her. At this rate, I will need a bodyguard on her just to keep them all away.

“Are you sure? You know I can make you feel good tonight.” Sandra steps closer. I barely register that she has moved as my teeth begin to hurt due to me clenching my jaw. My eyes remain glued on Lucy as the other man places his hand on the small of her back to escort her into the ballroom. My gut reaction is to strut forward and fling his hand off her body, but that thought confuses me even more, because I don’t have feelings for women like this. I use them for sex, that’s it. No strings. Sandra is the one I should be looking at. But my chest is burning. Then I notice his hand lowering and moving to her ass, and I am about to move, when I see a flash out the corner of my eye. Tennyson bolts toward her, stepping up between them, and I finally relax. He doesn’t like anyone touching his sister either.

“So, how about it? I’m not wearing any underwear, and I know how you like easy access,” Sandra whispers, unrelenting, and I squint at her, totally forgetting she was even there.

“No. Excuse me,” I say abruptly, shocking her. She can’t understand why any man would reject her advances, but I need a stiff drink. I feel disjointed. Any normal night, I would take Sandra up on her offer. Fuck, the fact she told me she isn’t wearing underwear would be enough for me to take her out the back right now and fuck her against the door in the coatroom before this gala even begins. I feel on edge and not myself, so I make my way inside and straight to the bar.

“Whiskey, neat,” I bark to the bartender, and he is quick to pour. I throw it back, appreciating the burn.

“Another,” I say again, starting to feel more normal, and I grab the glass from him and sip it properly, getting my bearings.

“Thanks, Huxe,” Harrison says, coming to my side.

“What for?” My eyes search the room, landing on the vibrant red dress immediately, seeing Lucy smile and laugh with Katie and Emily. Now I feel like I can breathe.

“For taking Lucy to the business summit last week and taking care of her tonight. It’s a big deal for her to be here at the gala. She hasn’t been out like this since…” he trails off, grabbing a drink. Before the accident. That’s what he was going to say. I have known her only a short time, but I have a feeling that day changed Lucy forever. The sexy woman who probably danced all night with her friends is now replaced by a woman who is in pain daily, constantly working, and stressed about her business, one who says she will never dance again. I breathe out and roll my neck. Fuck, my tie feels too tight.

“She’s pretty tough, Harrison. She is smart too,” I say, feeling like I need to defend her. Everyone treats her with kid gloves. She can’t take a step without her brothers breathing down her neck to protect her. Can’t they see how smart, stubborn, strong, beautiful, and amazing she really is?

“I know,” he murmurs as we both put our backs to the bar and watch her. She is looking over the items on display for the auction tonight, giving item number nine extra attention, and I immediately want to know what it is. “Have you been spending a lot of time with her?” Harrison asks, and I can feel his stare burning into the side of my face, so I turn and look at him. His jaw ticks slightly.

“Yes.” My answer is short. But he is my best friend. I can't keep anything from him.

“She isn’t a one-night thing, and I swear to God, if you treat her that way, it isn’t going to be pleasant for any of us.” Harrison gives me his warning, his eyes thin as he looks at me. He knows. He can already see what I am struggling with. I would never betray him, but my mind is a mess at the moment. The only thing that seems clear to me is on the other side of the room in that beautiful red dress.

“I know what she is and what she isn’t. I am coaching her, Harrison, just like you asked me to,” I tell him. Even though my feelings are jumbled, I haven’t stepped over the line. Yet.

“Good. As long as we are on the same page. Ahh, Senator Johnson, great to see you,” Harrison says, his charming smile widening as he greets a new senator. I gulp the rest of my whiskey, needing the burn. He introduces me, and as Harrison and the senator talk about the new economic reform they are looking to implement, I let my eyes wander the room again. Lucy has now moved on, the girls all laughing at something, and to see Lucy laugh puts a smile on my face effortlessly.

I make small talk with a few people as I move across the room, straight to auction item nine. It is for a seven-night stay at a luxury private beach home in St. Barts. Gated, secure, direct access to the ocean, with every amenity possible. St. Barts is nice. I have been a few times. It is hot, a great place to get out of the cold of Baltimore. Almost like a totally different world. I lift my head to see if I can spot Lucy, ensuring she is okay, and see her smiling and nodding at something an older lady is telling her. I bite my lip, because I can tell by the way she is standing that she is hating every moment of this, the smile and nod the fakest I have seen from her. It just goes to show how far she will go to please her brothers.

She is standing under a pendant light, the warm glow giving her a soft aura of light that looks like she is guarded by angels. Her red dress sparkles, her simple necklace still draped around her neck, and she plays with it as her hair falls long and shiny down her back in soft waves. She looks totally different, yet whether she is in her shop in her jeans and glasses, or here in a red dress that looks molded to her body, she is beautiful.

The emcee comes onto the stage, encouraging us all to take a seat, and I walk in pace with Lucy and meet her at our table. The two of us are sitting next to each other so I pull out her chair.

“So chivalrous of you to help the disabled person to her seat, Huxley.” Her voice drips with sarcasm, and I immediately feel bad that she overheard Sandra say that to me.

“You are not disabled, and if you bothered to stand with me during that interaction, you would have heard me say as much. Now sit,” I say, a little bite in my tone.

“Bossy,” she mumbles to me, and my smile is small but there.

“Only with you.” My words are laced with innuendo, and her eyes widen. I pull out her chair as her four brothers eye me suspiciously and their girls all glow with smiles at the whole thing. This night is fucking intense.

Lucy takes a seat, and I follow as the emcee introduces Harrison to the stage for his speech. I barely register his words. All eyes are on Harrison, but mine are firmly on Lucy, feeling like the luckiest bastard alive to be sitting next to her.

As Harrison drones on about the importance of the foundation and asking everyone to dig deep, he talks a little about the program we are all here to support. Both Lucy and I sit up when he mentions that the funds from tonight will go toward a Little Literacy Program, a program that was inspired by Bloomer Books and their weekly children story time. It is clear that this is a surprise to Lucy as I see her eyes widen and look at him in awe.

“We have hundreds of kids in this state who struggle to read,” Harrison says, and that gets my attention. “I am sure we all know someone in this room who struggles with literacy.” Harrison’s eyes fall to mine, and I swallow. “Approximately fifteen percent of people in the United States have dyslexia, and many more are undiagnosed. My brothers, my sister, and I are proud that through the Rothschild Foundation, we can support those children, and tonight's proceeds will be going to launch the new Little Literacy Program to support kids with their reading and literacy needs as they grow,” Harrison finishes. The people in the room clap and Lucy and I both sit in awe. She is obviously surprised that the boys did this because of her, and I am equally surprised.

Literacy is by far my weakest link. I struggled a lot in school, barely passed college, and forced myself to have a big ego and talk a big talk to get my first few businesses under my belt. After that, I had proven myself, so no one questioned why I get the contracts I sign read out loud or why a C-pen is always in my pocket.

---