Page 53 of Recruited By the Billionaire

RJ looked at the money. The rolls and rolls of hundred-dollar bills. “I’ll have every bill checked out,” he said. “If it all checks out, it’s a go.”

Nelso extended his hand again. RJ looked at it again, and then smiled and vigorously shook it. Both men smiled too.

But then they all heard the high-revved engine of a sports car pull up. RJ got up and walked over to his front window.

“Who is it?” Nelso asked him.

RJ watched as Robert got out of his Porsche and walked around the passenger side door. “It’s my father,” he said.

Both men jumped up on their feet in panic.

But RJ remained calm. “Go out the back door guys,” he said.

Both men didn’t have to be asked twice. They hurried out of the back door.

RJ continued watching as Robert opened the passenger side door and Frankie got out. And RJ stared at Frankie. She was so not his father’s type it wasn’t even funny. Every bimbo he’d ever seen his father with was half his father’s age and so obnoxious that they made even obnoxious RJ want to puke. But this one, he thought, actually looked like she had some sense about her. She was cute. But she had more sophistication than drop-dead gorgeousness to RJ. She looked like a grownup.

But he didn’t delay. As Robert and Frankie made their way toward his front door, he hurried over to that briefcase filled with money, closed it, and carried it into his bedroom. As his father ring his doorbell, he swiped a card that opened a wall safe, put the briefcase inside of it, and then locked it back down.

And he went upfront and opened his door. But without inviting them in, he left the door, walked over to the chair in his living room, and sat down.

Frankie was smiling when the door was opened, hoping to make a good first impression, but as soon as the young man opened the door, he left them standing there. How rude, Frankie thought. But she didn’t say a word.

Mainly because Robert seemed so accustomed to his son’s ways that it didn’t seem to faze him. But also because she wasn’t interested in fighting battles of respect with a young man who didn’t seem to respect his own father. They either were going to accept her as Robert’s girlfriend, or they weren’t. Either way, it wasn’t going to matter to Frankie.

Robert motioned for her to walk on in, and he followed behind her. When he closed the door of his son’s Mediterranean-style home, Frankie suddenly felt boxed in. It appeared large from the outside, but on the inside it seemed chopped up and old-fashioned, with a wall around every room.

And his son, she thought as she looked at RJ. He seemed like the typical snooty rich kid to Frankie with the great looks and the horrible personality. Only he also had that strong look Robert possessed, as if he could be a leader of men just like his father, and make something of himself, if he’d only get out of his own way.

“Have a seat,” Robert said to Frankie as he escorted her to the sofa. Frankie sat down. Robert sat down beside her. “Where’s Everly?” Robert asked his son.

“Beats me.”

“She told me she was going to meet me over here.”

“Neither one of you told me about this particular meeting at my particular house.”

Robert bought the house, but he didn’t go there. “I wanted you to meet someone.”

“Your girlfriend, as you put it on TV for all the world to see.”

“That’s right.”

“Aren’t you a little old to be having a girlfriend?”

“Aren’t you a little old to be caring that I have a girlfriend?”

RJ laughed. “Who says I care?”

“This is Francesca Clark,” Robert said and then looked at his son as if he dared him to disrespect her.

When RJ said nothing, Robert continued. “This is my son, Robert, Junior. But everybody calls him RJ.”

“Nice to meet you, RJ,” Frankie said.

“Is it?”

Frankie didn’t respond to that.

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