Page 27 of The Playboy Billionaire

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.

When I drop my hand, I find her watching me.

“Why? Why, Cal? Why do you want to help me all of a sudden? What about all the emails I’ve sent? Not one person from your team has taken the time to respond to any of them, except for acknowledging that my issue will belooked into.”

I stare at her, my stomach hardening. A picture is beginning to form. One I know I’m not going to like.

“Emails?”

“Yes. Ten now. All ignored. We even came to your offices, some of the community members and me. We were told, if we didn’t leave,managementwould be calling the police.” she says, her words suddenly making sense of her hostility. “So,please, Cal,maybe you can understand why I’m a little cynical about your offer.”

“I promise you,” I say, taking a step forward only to draw up short at the look she sends me. “I haven’t seen any emails, but I promise I’ll look into it as soon as I get back to the office.” I make her meet my gaze. She nods at whatever she sees there, and I exhale slowly. “As for the protest. My team and I weren’t even in the office that day. We were on an off-site. I didn’t hear about it until I got back, and then all we could do was set up today’s meeting.” I move to stand in front of her. “Give me a chance, April. Please. Let me try to make this right.”

“Fine. Two o’clock, Thursday,” she says, stepping back.

“Done. I’d like to invite you to dinner,” I say.

April raises an eyebrow and I grin.

“But I’m getting the distinct impression you might poison my food,” I say, earning myself a harrumph.

“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not worth going to jail for.”

I smirk at her scowl.

“I’ll see you Thursday, April,” I say, deciding it’s time to leave while I’m ahead.

“Thursday,” she replies as I make my way to the door.

I step out through the door and head towards Mason, my heart suddenly feels lighter than it has in months.

CHAPTER 12

CALEB

Islam into my office, Trish, my PA, trailing after me, her tablet and list in hand.

“Caleb,” she says, drawing up short when she takes in my expression. “I’ll come back when you’re ready.”

She leaves before I can say anything, so I sink into my chair and rest my hands on the desk.

Fuck, how did everything go so wrong?

This was not how I wanted to see April again. The woman who has plagued my dreams for the last five months. Has made every woman since appear dull in comparison. Oh, how my friends would laugh if they found out about my little dancer, a woman who made such an impression in only one night that I’ve been celibate ever since, and not the raging womaniser they think me to be.

There’s a knock on my office door.

“Come in,” I say.

Wes pops his head in. “How did it go?” he asks, entering and closing the door behind him, taking a seat in front of my desk.

“She’s coming here at two on Thursday,” I say, bringing up my calendar. I fire a note to Trish telling her to rearrange my two o’clock on Thursday and replace it with April.

“I’ve got the team working on a proposal. Reimbursement for her fixtures and fittings. Unnecessary but a goodwill gesture,” he adds flippantly, and I smart at his words.

“No,” I say, his gaze snapping to mine.

“What do you mean, no?”

---