Page 23 of The Billionaire's Obsession

Riley

Idragged myself through the next day. The good news was I made rent. The bad news was that Cole didn’t call or message me all day.

After an unproductive day of moping at the studio, I hobbled outside as evening was falling. I turned toward the subway, noting a conspicuous town car sitting at the curb. You didn’t see cars that nice in this neighborhood. As I made to pass it, hobbling toward the subway, the door opened and a driver got out. He was wearing a smart jacket and had a name tag on it.

“Miss Delaney?”

I eyed him warily. “Yes?”

“I’m here to take you home.”

“Sorry, but who are you?”

“David, Miss.”

“Ok David, why are you here to take me home?”

David smiled. “Right. Mr. Preston sent me.”

“Oh, did he?” Warmth filled me. It was part excitement that our little argument last night hadn’t entirely put Cole off, and part annoyance at his high-handedness.

“Yes. In cases of a work related injury, the company takes full responsibility. I was actually waiting for you at your residence this morning, but I must have missed you.”

A sinking feeling filled me. “So, you’re saying this is a company policy or something.”

“Yes Miss, HR and legal are very clear about how injuries occurring in service of Mr. Preston or the company are to be treated.”

“Right. Well, let’s go then.”

I got into the car and gave David a tight smile. Company policy. That made sense. A company like Cole’s had to protect themselves against lawsuits. I could only imagine what the hell a judge would think of the case, if I tried to take Cole to court for compensation for an injury that occurred when I was pretending to be his girlfriend for money. I pulled my phone out of my bag and checked it. Still no messages or missed calls. As I stared at my phone, the little battery icon in the corner flashed red and the whole screen died. Well, at least I couldn’t check it every ten minutes now.

So, that fight had been as devastating as I’d feared it was. Cole Preston liked to be in charge, and I was someone who wouldn’t give up my autonomy for a potentially fleeting love affair.

I closed my eyes against the tears threatening to break free. God, I felt so pathetic. If I was protecting myself and my future, why did it hurt so much? Shouldn’t preventing future disappointments feel like winning? It didn’t. Right now, it felt a lot like losing. It felt like being afraid.

I kept my eyes closed, fighting tears, battling with myself and the small voice inside that whispered that all my proud words and independent woman ideals were covering fear.

‘Miss? We’re here.”

I opened my eyes and peered out the tinted windows. I didn’t recognize the street we were on.

“Sorry, where are we?”

“Home,” David said simply, like it was totally normal not to recognize your own street.

“I don’t live here,” I said slowly, peering outside. “This is the Hollywood Hills. I think I’d know if I lived in the Hills.”

“This is the address I was given to bring you to.”

“By Mr. Preston?”

David nodded. “I’m sorry, if there’s a problem you’ll have to take it up with him.”

“Fine, I will,” I muttered, and dragged my phone out my bag again, just to remember that it was dead. “Can I use your cell?”

“I don’t have it on me, I’m afraid.”

David refused to meet my eyes at that.

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