Page 19 of The Billionaire Babe

As I look at the three men around the table, I feel like I have the upper hand. I clearly surprised them. They probably thought I was a pushover and that I wouldn’t ask for more. It makes me think of AJ and what he said to me at the club. That I should just look pretty at dinner parties and that I wouldn’t know a hard day’s work if it bit me in the ass.

But as we wrap up the meeting, I watch Eddie, Ben, and Tennyson, all looking at me in what appears to be newfound appreciation and what I think is pride. Because while I don’t do hard physical work like AJ, my hands still get dirty. I still fight for what I want, and I want to be CEO. As we say our goodbyes, and I leave the offer with the Rothschilds to discuss, I head out of the building and to my waiting car, knowing exactly who I want to see, and I think I will find him at Joe’s Gym.

11

AJ

The smack of punches hitting bags fills the room, only dulled by the music thumping throughout the gym. I have been here most of the day, training this morning and now spending time with the younger kids. They need to know how to take care of themselves and they need an outlet for their rage.

“Hands up, protect your face at all times,” I direct Levi. When he is not skipping school and doing petty crime, he usually has his head stuck in a laptop, gaming, or most likely hacking some business out of money, since his parents are too deadbeat to look after him. Like me, he has had a tough upbringing, but he seems to find solace here at Joe’s Gym. Also like me.

“Is that how you got so pretty, AJ?” he teases. He is a smart kid, with a smart mouth. One that gets him into trouble. I smirk at him as I push the punching bag at him with force when he isn’t paying attention, causing him to topple and fall onto the floor mats.

“If you are going to throw insults, be prepared for the comeback.” Everything around me stops as the gym suddenly goes quiet, and I look up and follow everyone’s gazes to the front door. My heart and breathing both stutter as I watch Valerie Van Cleef walk in the door like she owns the place.

Her confidence is admirable. To enter a crappy gym on the outskirts of town that is full of testosterone and half-naked men takes guts. She looks like a boss, and I swallow as I take her in. Dressed in sky-high heels, tailored black trousers, and a crisp white shirt with the collar high and wide, giving me a great visual of her sun-kissed skin at her chest. As she struts right to me, my eyes settle on her cleavage, where I see golden layers of necklaces that shimmer in the light. As she gets closer, I take in her face, her brunette hair coiling softly around her face, and her blue eyes stare right at me, lips red and pouty and lit up in a smile.

“Fuck, I wouldn’t mind tapping that,” a guy says from behind me, and I growl deep in my chest.

“Hold five, kid,” I tell Levi, who is still on his butt on the floor, his mouth agape, watching as I step away from the bag and walk to her. Presumptuous, maybe, but who the fuck else is she here to see?

Her eyes remain on me as she pays little attention to anyone or anything else, which makes me feel fucking possessive with all eyes clearly on her.

“Get back to work,” I bark out to the gym harshly, and the guys at least now pretend not to watch and start hitting the bags or each other.

“What are you doing here?” I ask her as I cross my arms over my chest and take the tough stance I am familiar with.

“Good afternoon to you too,” she says with a wide smile, looking like I gave her the world.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I tell her, even though I want nothing more than Valerie Van Cleef right here with me.

“Ahhh, those familiar words again. I will let you educate me for a moment. Why not?” My eyes thin as my dick hardens. Is she getting sassy with me?

“This is not a place for a woman like you.”

“Again, with the woman like me?” Oh yeah, she is getting sassy, and my fingers twitch on my biceps, itching to grab her. And I do. I grab on to her upper arm and lead her over to the side of the gym, away from prying eyes and open ears until her back flattens against the wall. I know I am being an asshole, but there are too many men in here looking at her and I need to fucking touch her. Need to show them she is mine.

“Every guy in this fucking place is staring at your ass. Shouldn’t you be at one of your fancy country clubs or something?” She fucking smiles again.

“Are you?”

“Am I what?” I ask, lost in her eyes, her perfect lips, her sexy-as-hell body.

“Staring at my ass?” I can barely contain myself. She is the only person to question me or talk back to me and I fucking love it.

“Oh, sweetheart, I'm staring at all of you.” It’s a warning, my tone deep and low, not leaving any room for confusion. “But that doesn’t mean I like everyone else doing the same thing.” She bites her bottom lip. The move has my body burning. Swallowing, she considers her next words, and I follow the movement with my eyes, looking at her throat, her chest, her cleavage.

“Sweetheart?” She questions the nickname I just dropped, and my tongue burns with regret. I didn’t mean to let it slip again. I called her that in the club the other night, but with the loud music and her friends nearby, I didn’t think she heard it. Right here and now, she most certainly did.

“A sweet thing. I would bet some money that you are always doing the right thing. You know, Little Miss Perfect?” I smirk at her, then I see her eyes cloud over slightly and feel like I said the wrong thing.

“Why are you so dressed up?” I ask her, changing the subject, wondering if this is her everyday attire. It probably is, as she looks like a million bucks.

“I had a work meeting.” My eyebrows rise in surprise. I’ve done a little research on Valerie Van Cleef, and I know she doesn’t need to work. Her family are billionaires. One of the wealthiest in the country.

“How did it go?” I ask her, and her face lights up.

“Hmmm, better than expected, actually.” Her genuine grin is adorable and a weird feeling of pride runs through my chest.

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