Page 33 of The Playboy Billionaire

“I understand. I get it—just let me prove you can trust me.”

“Why?” Her question comes out of the blue. “Why are you doing this? You don’t owe me or the kids anything. You would earn more money with the industrial and retail units.”

Taking a deep breath, I lean forward, hoping she believes what I’m about to say. “That might be true. I’m a developer.” I shrug. “But I aim to redevelop rundown areas, improve them for everyone concerned. The old and new residents. Create sustainable communities that can continue to grow on their own. Displacing the old, simply doesn’t work. In the long run we will earn more money with a thriving community.”

I couldn’t be more surprised when she nods.

I stand up, and she follows. I hold out my hand, which she stares at for a moment before placing hers in mine.

“I’ll be in touch after the weekend when I have some more information,” I say, clasping her hand in mine. The memory of her hands and mouth on other parts of my body, sends a sharp ache through my chest. She pulls away, her hand fisting at her side.

Before I can stop myself, I add, “Work with me and my team to help your community.”

“What? Why?” she asks, her blue eyes clashing with mine.

“Why? You know the community better than anyone. The support they showed you at the meeting and today. You can help us bridge the gap, help us understand what they need. Your dance school can be that bridge between old and new.”

The more I speak, the more I can see this isn’t the crazy idea I first thought it to be. She will also be near, and I want her nearby.

“I don’t know.”

I see her wavering but decide not to push.

“Think about it. Talk to Samuel,” I say, although his name sticks on my tongue. I hate the familiarity he has around April, the way he’s always touching her. I know he’s gay, but still. She relies on him.

“Okay. Thank you for taking the time to see me today, Mr Frazer.”

I quirk a brow in her direction. “Back to Mr Frazer again?”

“Yes, Mr Frazer. This is a professional working relationship.”

I laugh then, a true belly laugh, and she looks at me like I’ve lost the plot.

“Oh—not even the cleaning staff call me Mr Frazer. I’m Caleb to everyone here and Cal to you,” I say.

“Fine, Caleb.”

I bite my tongue to prevent the grin that threatens. I don’t think me finding her comment amusing will go down well. I need to tread carefully. I hold open my office door, allowing her to step through, and walk her to the elevator.

“Until Monday, April. Have a lovely weekend.”

I hold out my hand, which she shakes.

She says nothing, her eyes avoiding mine as the elevatordoors close. I make my way back into my office, my grin now on full display.

“What the hell is going on?” Wes slams into the office behind me. “We have a bunch of teenagers dancing in the canteen, and I’ve just had a new plan for Sunny Down delivered to my desk. Have you lost your fucking mind?”

The smile melts from my lips, my eyes hardening, making Wes stop. “Who the hell do you think you are coming in here and talking to me like that? I thought we had this discussion?” I say, my tone cold and hard.

“Me? What about you? Months of planning and money, up in smoke.” He runs a hand through his hair. “All for what, a shag? You trying to get in her pants? Is she really that good?”

Before I can stop myself, I have Wes by the collar, his back slammed up against the door.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I hiss, my eyes holding his. “Get out of my office and take this attitude with you. If I hear one word against Ms Wilson or the plan changes, you’ll be sorry. Remember who you work for.” I shove backwards. “Never question me again.”

He pulls his shirt down and smoothes a hand down his front. “The board have called an emergency meeting in an hour.”

I turn on him, my smile, all teeth. “I know, I called it.” I tell him and watch as he deflates before my eyes.

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