Page 29 of The Playboy Billionaire

“April,” I say.

There’s a long pause. Jaxson is the only person I’ve ever spoken to about that night. My meeting with him the following morning was a disaster, my mind otherwiseoccupied. After three disastrous hours, Jax had demanded to knowwhat the fuck was wrong with me, and I’d ended up spilling my guts.

“You better start at the beginning. Let me make a coffee…”

CHAPTER 13

APRIL

The thousand butterflies that have taken residence in my stomach and chest have gone into overdrive. Frazer Development’s building looms in front of me. I pinch my nose against the impending headache that’s been brewing all morning… well, for the past couple of days. Days have merged into one since a certain Caleb Frazer reappeared in my life. Even Samuel hasn’t been able to pull me out of my funk.

I walk across the street, inhaling before exhaling slowly and deeply, my head and thoughts spinning.What the hell am I doing here?I know I should turn around and go home. This is pointless. Caleb Frazer won’t listen to me. What game is he playing? Is it merely to placate me? Keep me quiet? Look to be the good guy, helping out the poor dance teacher. Not that I have any sway. I’m a dance teacher. The press didn’t even bother to turn up to our little protest. I’m sure when he hears that, he’ll be turning me away.

As for the kids, how can I help them? They come to my dance school, and it provides them with somewhere to go,but that’s all. Yes, I listen to their problems, but that doesn’t make me an expert. I’m not a social worker.

I stop and look up at the sky, my breathing becoming more and more erratic. My heart races in my chest.

I bend over, resting my hands on my knees. Breathe in, breathe out.

I’ve got this. What’s the worst that can happen?

Cal and his team do nothing. In that case, I’m no better or worse off. As of next week my tenancy agreement has ended. My business is gone. I accept that. I just need to decide my next steps. I’ve advertised the flooring and mirrors on Dancer’s Marketplace, to see if anyone wants them. I may get some money back. Nothing like I spent, but beggars can’t be choosers. I may get enough to scrape together a deposit for a studio room somewhere.

I step up to the office building. It’s more impressive than I remember. I wasn’t paying attention the last time we were here. I wanted to make a point. Now I can appreciate the glass and the large double-height foyer.

A man appears and opens the door as I approach. Smiling in greeting.

“Afternoon, Ms,” he says.

“Thank you.”

I step past him and make my way towards the main reception desk. A young woman with perfect hair and perfect makeup smiles up at me from behind the desk.

“Afternoon, Welcome to Frazer Development. How may I help you?”

The warmth of her greeting surprises me, and I find the muscles in my shoulders loosening a little.

“I’m here to see Caleb Frazer?” The words sound awkward as they leave my mouth.

“You must be Ms Wilson,” she says, catching me off guard. She hands me a visitor’s badge already bearing my name. “Ifyou’d like to take a seat, I’ll let Mr Frazer know you’ve arrived.”

I’m early, unsure how long it would take me to make it across town. I walk over to the beautiful white leather sofas and take a seat. Glossy magazines and newspapers are neatly placed on the glass table in front of me. No expense spared.

There’s a knock on the window next to me. I see Tyler grinning through the glass. What the? I look around and see several other members of the dance studio milling around. Tyler winks. He’s one of my best students—was one of my first students. At fifteen, he’s been dancing with me for two years and is a natural. He initially thought it uncool, but when I demonstrated that dance was not only ballet, he was hooked. He’s a natural hip-hop dancer.

But why isn’t he at school?

“You brought your fan club, I see,” a voice behind me says, making me jump.

I turn to find Cal stood next to the sofa, staring out onto the street.

“I…”

Music starts up outside, and two of my dancers come into view. Their movements coordinated with a dance we’ve been working on. More dancers appear. Several people have their phones up, recording the kids as they dance. I grin as Alice and some of her fellow keep-fit ladies join. Their movements are not as smooth as Tyler and his peers, but their grins tell me how much they’re enjoying themselves.

Before I know what I’m doing, I move to the door and step out onto the pavement. It’s then I spot Samuel, camera in hand. What has my friend done?

“Ms April,” Tyler shouts, beckoning me over as they dance.

---