Page 34 of The Billionaire's Heart

He nods. “That actually makes really good business sense. And if you don’t want to do this, I completely understand, and I’ll have my publicist release a statement setting the record straight immediately. It’ll be a few days before the uproar settles down, but then you’ll be able to go back to your normal life. And Mia,” he waits for me to meet his eyes, “there will always be a position for you at Gallo Enterprises. I promise. No hard feelings. Okay?”

I nod. “Okay. Thank you. That helps.”

“I’ve got a lot of work to get done, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to work for a while. Help yourself to anything you want. There’s a movie room down that hallway,” he points in one direction, “a game room in the building to the left out that door,” he points in another direction, “and of course there’s the pool and the beach.”

I only nod.

“I’ll be in my office down this hallway. Just come in if you need anything. My bedroom is at the other end of the same hallway as yours, so if I’m not in the office, you can find me in there. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Okay?” Ian stands up and puts his dishes in the sink. “And don’t worry about cleaning up. You cooked; I’ll clean. I’ll do it before I go to bed.”

I nod again and watch Ian walk out of the kitchen and suddenly I feel very lonely in this giant house. Never have I wanted a best friend or a mom as much as I do right now. Someone I could bounce all this off of. But then again, I probably wouldn’t be able to. I’m sure there’s an NDA in my future, as well.

Once I have cleaned up the dishes, there's no point in making Ian do it since I have nothing else to do. I decide to skip all the other available activities and just turn in for the night. Besides, that amazing bathtub is calling my name.

Chapter 16

Ian

I’ve been working for hours, rearranging my schedule so that I can work from home this week, reading reports, answering emails, and working on the Bahamas deal. Garrett has been busy since we talked last week.

Looking at the clock, I see it’s after midnight, which explains why I’ve been yawning so much in the last half hour. Mia was right. It’s been quite the day today and I should turn in. Since I was supposed to be in Seattle all week, now all my meetings have been moved to virtual, but that just means my days will be longer with the time difference. Getting some sleep now will help later this week.

Dishes. I promised I’d do the damn dishes. Fuck me.

As I make my way to the kitchen, one of the security guys patrolling the backyard catches my eye through the French doors and it just reminds me of how different my life is from Mia’s. One thing I read a few hours ago was a background check on her. Mia doesn’t usually have security patrolling her backyard. She doesn’t even have a backyard. Hell, if it wasn’t for her job at the club, she’d be living in her car. Which, honestly, might be a tad better than where her apartment is currently located.

Mia is a few years younger than me at twenty-nine. Her formative years only tell me she grew up in the foster care system. I know it’s none of my business, but I want to know if she was one of the lucky ones that had good foster parents. She graduated from high school, and she wasn’t lying to me when she told me she hadn’t been to college.

She’s lived in a few different places, one for a few years and then over the last couple years, she’s had multiple addresses; all of them were in terrible neighborhoods in Knoxville. Her job situation is sad, too. Mostly, she’s been working as a receptionist for temp agencies, making almost no money. Mia has a decent credit score but has no credit cards.

Looking at her financial history, she’s got the credit score for a business loan and a few hundred dollars in the bank, but no substantial income to suggest to any bank that she’s worth the risk of giving her a large business loan. If she doesn’t take me up on this offer, then I don’t know if her bridal shop would ever be more than just a dream.

When I walk into the kitchen, the room is in pristine condition. Someone has stored away all the leftover food in the refrigerator and washed and put away all the dishes. Of course, she did the dishes. It’s just the way Mia is, considerate and kind.

Just as I’m making a drink, my phone buzzes.

Sawyer:You wake?

Me:Making a nightcap. What’s up?

Sawyer:You should read this and warn your girl.

My brother sends me a link to an online article that I click on. It looks like it’s already going viral, even though it was only published an hour ago.

The news article is from a gossip magazine that I’ve despised for years because they write only part of the story on everything they report about. Just enough to get people to read their trash. But this time, they’ve gone too far.

The headlines read, ‘Foster Kid Nails a Whale’. My blood boils for the second time today, and I skim the article and not only does the reporter talk about her childhood as a foster kid, but supposedly has interviewed an ex-boyfriend, former roommates, and even posts pictures of her car and where her apartment is located.

Me:This is fucked up.

Sawyer:They’re coming out of the woodwork. What are you going to do about it?

Me:I’ll own that paper by the end of the week and shut it down. I don’t care what they post about me. It’s just background noise. But to go after Mia? Too far.

Sawyer:You sound like you’re into her. Are you?

Am I? Ever since meeting Mia, I’ve done nothing but think about her and what’s she’s doing, where she going, what’s she thinking. It’s not normal, and whatever the fuck that fire is every time I touch her is driving me crazy. It’s addicting, and it took everything I had in me todaynotto touch her any more than I had to in order to protect her in the crowd. She seems fragile and at the same time strong as granite.

And her kisses. Fuck, her kisses yesterday were otherworldly. Lips soft as silk and taste like honey. Her kisses were instantly addicting. Each time we danced, and I could put my hands on her back and pull her into me, was amazing.

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