Page 13 of Kandi's Crush: A BWWM Sweet Billionaire Romance

Kandace possessed an air of coquettish charm combined with an element of street smarts, and few women could pull off the two with the same level of authenticity. I wasn’t sure, but I suspected she had limited dating experience. She’d been heartbroken, the disappointment in her tone had been palpable as she’d described the date. Women who are players would use the date as a funny story to share with their friends and charge the hurt to the game. They would quickly rebound and continue to kiss frogs until their prince miraculously appeared in front of them.

Speaking of kisses, players know that kisses on the cheek are for lovers and are precursors to sex. When Kandace had leaned in my direction, I’d prepared myself to feel the gentle tug of her teeth on my ear. If she had taken that step, I would have pulled her across the console and onto my lap so she could straddle my rock-hard cock.

I almost crashed into her when we arrived at her apartment door. She turned to face me and with a cocked eyebrow, her eyes roamed from my head to my feet and back.

“I have to check to make sure that there are no burglars,” I improvised. She sighed and turned the key in the door. She opened the door and turned on the light and spoke into the empty apartment.

“Is anyone here?”

She stepped into the apartment while I stood at the doorjamb. I leaned in and my eyes scanned the room.

“It sounds quiet. Are you sure you don’t want to invite me in for a nightcap?”

“Bye, Chadwick! See you on Monday!”

“Sweet dreams.”

I turned and happily jogged down the hall and along the sidewalk back to the Jeep.

On the drive home, I rolled down the windows and turned my iPhone to an eighties music playlist. My hands rhythmically slapped the steering wheel while I bobbed my head to the rhythm of The Police.

I considered the evening a success. Kandace had sought me out and allowed me to comfort her. I would have preferred to console her when she wasn’t hurt or crying because of the actions of another man, but I’d take whatever I could get. I had also ensured that she had something to eat and arrived home safely. Then, she’d given me one of the most intimate kisses of my life. All this did was increase my need for her. I would keep wanting and pressing until I had her.

She will be mine.

Kandace

The Monday after the disastrous Bumble date, I drove the four miles from my apartment to the Scrub-A-Dub office. A bundle of invoices lay on the passenger’s seat, if I was lucky, the office would be empty. I could place the documents on my mother’s desk and run a few errands before meeting the girls.

I pulled into the parking lot of the off-the-beaten-path strip mall. I parked next my mother’s gold Lexus SUV. Dread filled my chest, threatening to scour away my last shred of happiness. I sat in the car and said a silent prayer.

My plan of attack was to check if there were any outstanding tasks, then make an excuse to leave. I vowed to avoid a disagreement or hurt feelings with my mother. I raised my head and straightened my back in determination.

“Good morning!” I called out as I pulled the door open.

“Chère! We’re in the back!” Marie-Therese answered. I walked into the storeroom where the two ladies were unpacking boxes and comparing the contents against an invoice. She looked up at me and smiled. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

My mother peered at me over her reading glasses, her gaze landing on my hair.

“Good morning! Thank goodness you’re here. We need you to finish unpacking these boxes, noting any missing items on the invoice. Once you complete that, put everything away on the shelves and cut the boxes for the recycling bin.”

What am I? Five years old? I’m capable of figuring out the steps required to unpack a box and prepare it for recycling. I don’t need every single step written on a notepad.

“Okay. Yes, ma’am. I stopped by to see if there was anything you needed me to do. I’ll get started on it immediately.”

I shrugged out of my backpack and hooked it on the back of the door, ignoring my mother as she stared at me. Taking the box cutter in my hand, I exposed the blade and turned toward the unopened boxes. I selected the largest box and began gliding the box cutter along the seams, slicing through the packing tape. I felt my mother looming behind me. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I was sure she would correct my form or figure out some way to ‘manage’ me.

I unfolded the box flaps and reached inside for the invoice. I counted the cans of the aerosol window cleaner and wrote a check mark next to the quantity. I searched the pile of boxes before selecting another. I slashed open the box top, praying she would walk back to her desk and leave me in peace.

“How are you getting along with Chadwick? Have you developed a staffing plan for the common areas?”

I didn’t turn to face her. I continued to open the boxes and count the contents.

“Everything is going well. No. I haven’t had time to develop the staffing plans. I’ll work on them this week.”

“He plans to sell the lofts in three months. How will you know how many people we’ll need for the contract? Keep in mind that we are already short-staffed. We need to understand his requirements to figure out the number of new hires.”

“Mama, it’s only been a week.” I put down the clipboard and pen and turned to face her.

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