Page 5 of Grumpy Billionaire Seeking Wife

"Huh?" She frowns and takes a step back. "What complications? I was just looking for a quick fuck." She runs her fingers through her hair, and I can tell she's pissed. "I wasn't looking for anything else."

"Unfortunately for you, I've been in this situation before and inevitably the fun quick fuck becomes a hot, complicated mess." I shrug. "What can I say? Maybe I'm just too good?" I pull my wallet out and grab a couple of hundreds. "But please do not take it personally. This is for you. Buy yourself something pretty." I half expect her to throw the money back into my face, but instead, she grabs it and stuffs it into her bra. Before I know what's happening, she grabs my hand, places it on her right breast, and squeezes it, before letting it drop.

"You coulda had a piece of this." She sniffs and then turns around abruptly, muttering something under her breath. I wait for her to round the corner before putting the phone to my ear again.

"Do not say a word," I whisper to Miles, who is already laughing. "I do not want to hear a word."

"But you coulda had a piece of that," he says in a high-pitched voice. "You didn't want a piece of that."

"I'm not you. I can think with something other than my dick."

"Low blow, Wes." I can tell he's not mad, though, because he's still laughing. "Let me guess, drinks are off tonight."

"You guessed one thing right." I lean back against the wall. "Sorry about that. I didn't think my first night back in town would be stuck in this club."

"No worries. I may go and meet up with Erica and Sabrina and take them to dinner. Erica is dying to pitch that podcast to us."

"She's still going on about that? Hmmm." I pause for a few moments and then casually continue. "Sabrina will be there, as well?"

"You know those two have been joined at the hip for years." Miles’s voice is soft. "And I think this is their after-graduation plan."

"So Erica didn't speak to Mom and Dad about the offer from Winston?"

"You know she wants to follow her own path, Wes."

"With our money!" I check the time again. "I mean, I could join y'all after I get done here, if you want. We can all have drinks."

"You want to drink with the hellions?"

"They aren't hellions. They have nearly graduated from college now." I press my lips together and think of one of the last conversations Sabrina and I had over a year ago. I wonder if she remembers it. I rub my forehead and try to get my sister's best friend out of my head. Sabrina Fillmore, with her honey-blonde hair, green eyes, curvy figure, and bubbly personality is the bane of my existence. And yet, because she is my sister’s best friend, I’ve never been able to rid her from my life. She’s nine years younger than me and should be completely off-limits, but I haven’t forgotten the moment we had a year ago. A moment I should have never let happen. A moment I couldn't forget. It doesn't help that I haven't seen her since then. Which infuriates me even more, even though I am glad for the distance.

"They are still hellions. And I'm sure they are going to cause a whole heap of trouble for us."

"Oh, why?"

"They've joined some dating app." He chuckles. "Erica was telling me about it last night...some group dating thing. It sounds like a recipe for disaster, but you know the two of them. Trouble finds them, like raccoons find trash cans."

"Just great." I sigh, annoyed at the information. I see Sheryl headed back down the corridor and realize I've been out of the room for longer than is polite at this point. "I have to go now, but I'll text you later to see if you're still out."

"Good luck, big bro. If anyone can close the deal, you can."

"We shall see." I hang up the phone and head back toward the door and open it for Sheryl. She nods as she walks through, and I step in behind her. My mind goes to Sabrina and her smart mouth, the dreams I've had about doing unspeakable things to that mouth, the fact that I know that I can't. She's Erica's best friend, too young, too innocent, and too naïve. I press my lips together.

"Hey, Sheryl," I call after the lady, and she stops and turns around to look at me. She looks hesitant, as if she thinks I'm about to insult her again. "What time do you get off tonight?" I ask before I can stop myself. I watch the smile spread across her face.

"So you were playing games, huh?" She licks her lips and walks over to me. "Why are you men all the same?"

"All the same?" I ask and step to the side as a middle-aged man walks into the room, his head high in the air. He walks past us, his eyes glued to Sheryl for a few moments, then he stops, looks at me, sniffs his fingers, and winks. I watch as he goes to take his seat and then look back at Sheryl. Her eyes are hard for a few seconds, and then I feel her fingers against my abdomen, about to slide down. I grab her hand and stop her. "I think thatperhaps I should stop you right there." I shake my head with a sigh. Fucking Sheryl is not going to take my mind off Sabrina. "Have a nice night." I drop her hand and head back to Jeremiah.

"Jackass," she mutters as I walk away, and I can't help but laugh. That is not the first, nor will it be the last time a woman utters those words to me. I sit back down opposite Jeremiah and lay my hands flat on the table.

"You have an hour to accept my offer,” I say in a light tone. “And if you don’t accept it, I will walk out of here. And you, Mr. Astor, will have to figure out a new way to pay for membership to this classist, sexist, racist, piece-of-shit club." I lean back, grab my drink, and take a sip. "Balls in your court," I say with a smile. "I bet they have nice tennis courts here, huh?" I ask, as if that were the most natural follow-up to my last comment. Jeremiah's blue eyes are wide and full of venom. He wants to throw me out. And he could, easily. But he knows as well as I do that he's not going to get another offer like mine. I wonder if his pride or greed will win out in the end. I don't frankly care. There are other papers for sale. I have no doubt there will be a Carrington media empire...I just don't know if it will start with theNew York Guardianpaper, circulation of five million.

Chapter Three

Sabrina

“Sabrina, darling, I’m just too tired to—” My mother yawns as she attempts to stand up from the couch. She looks exhausted, her dark hair graying and her brown eyes struggling to stay open.

---