Page 23 of The Playboy Billionaire

I spin on my friend and glare at him.

“Do not bring up New York. That was a mistake.” I turn and throw my blouse into my washing basket. “One I blame you for entirely. You’re the one who invited him to join us.”

He smirks, and my blood pressure rises. “And you’re the one who snuck out of his room in the middle of the night.”

How the hell does he know that? Oh, of course, Cal went to find him… went all the way to Philly to track me down?

We had a one-night stand. Who does that?

I cross my arms over my chest.

Moving into the room, he clasps my shoulders, making me look up at him.

“Would it hurt to talk to him, baby girl? He might surprise you.”

I drop my chin to my chest.

“We were in the presidential suite,” I mutter.

“What?” Samuel tilts my chin up, but I pull away, putting some distance between us.

“The reason I left… I woke up and realised we were in the presidential suite.” I run a hand down my face, my eyes going to Samuel’s, his gaze questioning. “I panicked, okay. I didn’t want to seethatlook in his eyes when he woke up. Or listen to thelast night was fun butspeech, as he ushered me out of the door. The walk of shame through the hotel lobby was a lot easier at five than it would have been later.”

I pause and smack my hand against my forehead. “Oh shit.” I shake my head as two and two become four. “It’s his family’s hotel. It was a Frazer Hotel. No wonder.”

“Didn’t you question him when you first arrived? You must have noticed the room.”

I raise an eyebrow.

He smirks.

“A little distracted, were you?” he asks.

“Shut up,” I say, lobbing a cushion across the room at him.

Distracted isn’t the word for it. Of course, I noticed the opulence. But it was all we could do to wait until we got back to the room and not get arrested for indecent behaviour in the back of a cab.

“It was just sex,” I say.

“Keep telling yourself that, baby girl,” Samuel says as the door to the studio bangs, announcing my class arrivals.

“Look, none of this matters. Cal is Caleb Frazer, and he owns this building and half of the city. I’m me, a little nobody. Men like him don’t look twice at women like me, unless we’re taking our clothes off. Certainly not in the cold light of day. My one night with him is all there will ever be, all there was eversupposedto be.”

“I don’t believe that,” Samuel says. “Caleb Frazer is not like the men who frequented the club.” I walk past him, knowing there’s no point in continuing this conversation.

I’d like to think he’s right, but experience tells me otherwise.

Samuel is a romantic. He loves a Cinderella story. I hate to break it to him, but fairy tales are just that… tales and tall ones. Billionaires from upper-class families don’t fall for foster kids, especially ones who’ve worked as strippers in the past.

CHAPTER 11

CALEB

Mason parks on the road outside the building. The area requires a lot of work to regenerate it, but it’s the challenge I love. Once we’ve finished with it. This place will become another thriving community.

I step into the reception area. It’s small and compact but well-maintained. It makes my blood boil even more that we didn’t feel the need to question the legitimacy of the landlord’s statement.

I hear the thump of the base coming from inside the studio and recognise April’s voice as it echoes around the room and through the door.

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