Pretty Dirty Thing: A Billionaire Romance Read online

  Fuck.

  I had a good idea of who it was, and it made my blood boil.

  I turned my key quietly and made sure not to make a sound as I opened the front door. I moved silently toward the kitchen. I peered in and saw Mama at the sink. Bottles of gin littered the kitchen counter and I spied the top of a greasy haired head. Freddie Webb. I knew it. That son-of-a-bitch. I fumed. I told her that he wasn’t allowed to come around anymore. She promised.

  I listened to their conversation and when I was satisfied that they hadn’t heard me come in, I tiptoed back to the front door and reached into the cupboard for my brother’s long abandoned baseball bat.

  I marched purposefully down the hall. My footsteps louder and faster, and when I entered the room Mama’s eyes flew wide in surprise, and Freddie jumped out of his seat eying the baseball bat in my hands.

  “Get out of my fucking house,” I snarled. “You fucking junkie!”

  Freddie’s eyes bugged out in fear and his hands flew up in surrender.

  I swung the bat at him.

  “Out!” I yelled. The hairs on my arm were bristling in anger. “Out! Out! Out!”

  “Jesus fuck!” he yelled dodging my swings. “Ok! Ok! You crazy bitch! I’m going!”

  He edged toward the door.

  “Leah, what the hell are you doing?” Mama screamed pulling me back from him. I pushed her away.

  “It’s fine, it’s fine, Jesus!” he said. He was quick. He was already halfway out the door when he paused. “Gigi..”

  “Out!” I repeated, holding the bat over me menacingly. He slipped out and shut the door behind him. I heaved a deep breath to calm myself and tears pricked the backs of my eyes.

  “Just who do you think you are, Leah May?” Mama was fuming. Her face was mottled red. “How dare you treat my friends that way!”

  "I told you he isn't allowed here anymore," I bit out. Anger coursed through me. She knew what he had tried to do me. She knew it. “You know why he ain’t allowed here no more!”

  “This is my house, and I will do as I please!” she yelled. Her eyes narrowed. “And where were you all night then? You little slut."

  I closed my eyes at the insult. Mama was drunk, and she always said stupid shit when she was drunk. That’s what I had always told myself anyway. It still hurt. Especially on the back of what had just happened. She knew what Freddie tried to do and I knew she thought it was my fault.

  As if I’d try to seduce that sack of shit!

  Anger simmered inside of me. It hurt that she thought that of me and that she didn’t believe me. I could feel bile rise in my throat.

  I need to get out of here.

  I steeled myself and took another deep breath.

  "Sleep it off, Mama," I gave her a pitying look. I walked toward my bedroom.

  "Who do you think you are?" she ranted as she trailed behind me. "You think you are so good, so smart, so special. You uppity little brat. You're not special, you’re...."

  She continued to rant, but I blocked out her words.

  "You're no good Leah May," she said before I entered my room. "You're no better than me."

  “Maybe that’s true Mama,” I said finally, closing the door behind me. “But at least I’m not you.”

  I locked the door and climbed into bed, blocking out the sound of her fists pounding and her voice at the door.

  I felt the walls were close in on me. When the familiar feeling of anxiety bubbled up within me, I tried to calm myself focusing my gaze on the ceiling above. I stared at the cracked paint and blinked back the tears that were beginning to form painfully behind my eyes.

  Reality sucked.

  Chapter 4

  Callum

  I couldn’t get her out of my head.

  Leah.

  What did she do to me? I thought as I sat in my corner office with my back to my computer, my eyes on the hazy horizon outside and my mind elsewhere.

  I was entirely occupied with thoughts of the night before. And of her. Her smell. Her moans. My mind was like a child with their favorite movie, never tiring of playing back the same scenes over and over. I was obsessed. As a grown man, it was more than a little embarrassing.

  Waking up alone after our night together was like waking up doused in cold water. I thought she was having a good time, and from the way she curled up in my arms, I had expected to wake up to her face. Maybe even an early morning reprisal followed by a huge stack of pancakes to power up for another round.

  Instead, I woke up to confusion. No pancakes. No sexy repeat of the previous night's activities. Just confusion served with a side of blue balls.

  She had ghosted me. What the fuck.

  I didn’t understand it. I was good looking enough. I had never had trouble with women. Even when I was making a fraction of what I made now, women came easy. Women liked me, and I liked women. I liked making them laugh, and I liked fucking them. No one ever felt the need to sneak out on me before. Had I lost my mojo?

  Probably. You did just use the word mojo.

  Maybe Natalia had taken it. Packed my mojo in her bags when she moved in with her personal trainer, Wally. What kind of name is Wally? I know it’s short for Waldo, but who names their kid after a guy that always gets lost?

  A guy whose parents hate him, that’s who.

  The thought of him fucking my ex-fiancé didn’t sting anymore. It was strange because the idea of him with her drove me crazy when she left. Man, it had been such a cliché. I had suffered through her obsession with juicing, cross fit and whatever new health kick she was on. I lived in a house without wheat and grains for months, before she decided it was lactose she was intolerant to. I guess it was only a matter of time before she decided to cut me out of her diet too.

  I glanced at the picture of Natalia on my desk. She stared out of the picture frame. Her dark brown eyes were disapproving. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. I should have thrown it away months ago. I just never got around to doing it. Not because I still loved her, I wasn’t sure if I ever did, but because like most things these days I never really got around to doing it.

  I switched on my computer screen and opened a tab. It wouldn’t hurt to make an attempt at finding Leah. I recalled her on my balcony snapping photos. What was her username again?

  Leah May.

  That’s right. I typed in Leah's username into a search engine and clicked through to her Instagram page. I looked at her profile page, and at the picture, she took on my balcony. I scrolled down and browsed through the other photos she had posted. She was talented. Her photos were well composed and executed, and she had an eye for interesting details. Her page was full of pictures of bustling streets to serene natural landscapes. I kept scrolling looking for a picture of her. She didn’t seem to be the selfie type. I persisted and finally found a picture. It was a close-up shot of her face. She turning away from the camera and her face lifted toward the sun. Her eyes were closed, and she was a picture of serenity. For a moment, I could almost feel the warmth of the sun in the photo, and as it spread inside of me, I felt my heart ache just a little.

  “Where is he?” someone shouted.

  I glanced up at the sound of a commotion outside my door. I quickly closed the browser window, and I listened carefully to what was happening outside. I could hear the muffled sounds of an argument. My door swung open.

  “He’s not taking any meetings…” I heard my secretary Josephine say.

  “He will be meeting with ME!”

  Berger, my partner, barged into the room, ranting and raving. He looked like shit. His curly black hair was unruly, and his face covered with stubble.

  “Mr. Donovan, I’m so sorry, Mr. Berger—” My secretary Josephine trailing behind with an apologetic expression on her face. Her thin, pale face was paler than usual.

  “It’s OK, Josephine.” I nodded at Josephine to leave the room. She looked like she was about to hyperventilate. I gave her a reassuring look.

  “Sorry,” she mouthed, cringing before she
closed the door behind her.

  “Why are you being such an asshole about this, Callum?” Berger stood over my desk menacingly. I would have been intimidated if I hadn’t seen that expression a million times before.

  “Sit down, Berger,” I said pointing at the seat beside him.

  “This is what we wanted from the beginning, why are you such a dick about this?” Berger slammed his fists down on the solid mahogany desk. Natalia’s picture rattled across the desk and fell from it. The glass shattered within the frame.

  “We’ve discussed this,” I stood up from my desk. I walked over to the picture frame and placed it back on the table. I let out a heavy sigh. “I thought we came to an agreement.”

  Berger ignored my words and began to pace around the room like a caged animal. He was too riled up to be reasoned with, and he was getting too agitated for my liking.

  “I’m not selling the company to him,” I continued. I tried to keep the emotion out of my voice. It was no use both of us being angry. “You know my reasons.”

  “That’s the thing, it’s ours, it’s OUR company to sell,” he turned to me his eyes dark with anger. “It’s not just up to you. It’s not just your decision, Callum.”

  It was true. DBTech was a joint venture. We built the business up together, two kids fresh out of college looking to change the world with our great idea. It had taken years to build. We watched it grow from a two-person operation based in Berger’s mom’s basement, to a four-person operation, then to employing tens of thousands of individuals in this country alone. We handpicked talented, good people and we achieved a lot during the past few years. And yes, we wanted to be filthy rich. But to end it all by selling it to James Donnelly? Fucking Jimmy Donnelly the town tyrant? Sure the man was rich as Croesus and was offering mind-boggling amounts of money. We had plenty of money. James Donnelly was in it for himself and himself only. He didn’t care about our vision, our company or our employees. He’d lay it all to waste if it made him more cash. What was Berger thinking?

  I had to admit if I did sell, I would be set financially for the rest of my life. I could start whatever vanity project I wanted, and that spoke to my entrepreneurial spirit. But money for money’s sake? I just wasn’t interested. For all the career and financial success I gained, what did I have to show for it besides a nice apartment and car? Money wasn’t everything.

  “If you want out, let’s wait for a better offer,” I sat on the desk. “Our employees deserve more than this. Our customers deserve more. Donnelly does not have the best interests of this company. He certainly will not uphold the ideals we had at the beginning.”

  Berger laughed mirthlessly.

  “We aren’t at the beginning anymore, Callum,” he shook his head. “Look at us, we are pushing forty. We don’t have time for the naive ideas we had when we started.”

  I really wasn’t getting through to him. It felt like a sucker punch to realize I no longer knew this man I had once considered my best friend. I knew that he was struggling after Janet left him. Was it a cash flow thing? The man I knew would've hated the idea of James buying our company, our baby, to pull it apart systematically.

  “It’s time to move on, Callum,” Berger continued. His pale blue eyes were pleading now. “We both aren't happy. I know you’re bored. I am too, we gotta move on.”

  There was a kernel of truth in his words, but my opinion didn’t waver. Even if I was feeling bored and restless, it wasn’t the right time. It wasn’t the right buyer.

  “It seems as though we are at an impasse,” I walked toward him.

  “No, we are aren’t,” he said ominously. He picked up Natalia’s portrait and touched the broken glass. “Sign the papers, Callum. It’s what’s best. For the both of us.”

  He set down the photo frame, straightened himself and wordlessly walked out of the room.

  I stared at the now empty space before me.

  Well shit that didn’t go well at all.

  I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders and got up to check on Josephine.

  “Hey,” I said as I walked toward her desk.

  She jumped in her seat.

  “Oh, it’s you.” Josephine lifted her hand to her chest. “I’m sorry Callum. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  I didn’t blame her at all. Berger’s tenacity was renown. It was what made DBTech the success that it was, but what made him a brilliant partner made him a pretty terrible human being most of the time.

  “Are you, OK?” I placed my hand on her shoulder.

  “Oh, oh, yes,” she wheezed. She patted down her stick straight black hair. Poor thing. She was never this skittish, but Berger did that to some people.

  I checked my watch.

  “Listen, it’s almost time to close up,” I said soothingly. “Why don’t you take an early day, go home, crack open a bottle of wine and have a long relaxing bath.”

  She breathed in heavily. The air went through her nostrils with a high pitched whistle.

  “That sounds nice,” she said finally. I could see her reaching for her bag.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow Josie,” I gave her a wink as I walked back to my office.

  “Thank you, Callum.”

  “No worries,” I replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I returned to my desk and reopened the browser window I hid. I scrolled back down to the photo of her with her face leaning toward the sun and settled back into my leather chair, recalling the way her blissful smile broke over her face as she came, and the way she rode my body without abandon. She was a free thing, my beautiful free thing and Lord help me, but my heart clenched at the memory of it. I wanted to be as free as her, but my office, even with the views of the city below, felt like a cage and I felt like a flightless bird.

  Where was she right now? I couldn’t help but wonder why she hadn’t been as affected as I had been.

  Whipped. The voice in my head taunted.

  Maybe I can add her and send her a direct message.

  Like a common creep. She’d just ignore you.

  I unlocked my phone and scrolled down the list. I knew someone that could help me find out more. It helped to know people in this town. The phone rang twice, and a familiar voice picked up.

  "Hey Mickey, I need your help finding a girl.”

  Chapter 5

  Leah

  Mama was her old self again the next morning. It was always the same old thing. The never-ending cycle of Gigi Allen. She would fall off the wagon, act like a maniac for a day and then the next morning she would appear fresh faced and contrite. Most days she would pretend that the day before never happened, but on others, like today, she’d say “I’m gonna clean up my act, Leah Bunny."

  I always cringed at her use of my childhood nickname, but if I mentioned I didn't like being called Leah Bunny, she always got snippy. So, when Mama said it this time, I schooled my features into a calm expression and just nodded.

  “OK, Mama,” I replied. Because I had learned "OK, Mama" was the best way to handle morning discussions like these. Yesterday's words still hung in the air between us.

  “Leah, I —” She began. I turned away. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want excuses or apologies. I didn’t want any of that. Mama watched me as I walked over to the cupboard and pulled out a box of cornflakes. She let out a sigh, her slim shoulders lifting and falling as she fidgeted with the front of her dress.

  “I’m gonna fix you guys a treat,” she said, hurrying to the sink and rinsing off a pan.

  “We don’t have any milk,” I had checked the fridge when I woke up. Ollie, my younger brother, must’ve gotten up in the middle of the night and helped himself to it.

  “Well, I’m sure I can fix something up without it!” Mama said, her voice high pitched.

  I nodded again, turning away to fetch a bowl for my cereal. Dry cereal for breakfast it is then.

  I watched Mama busily working at the stove as I spooned cornflakes into my mouth. Whatever she was making it sm
elled pretty bad. She was never a good cook.

  “Good morning Mama,” Ollie emerged from the hallway. His blond hair tousled from sleep, and his dark blue eyes hooded. “That smells good!”

  Ollie sauntered to the fridge and poured himself a cup of orange juice before slumping down at the table beside me.

  “Hey jerk,” I nudged him with my elbow. “Thanks for drinking all of the milk.”

  “Hey butt head,” he replied rubbing his jaw. He yawned and then smirked. “You’re welcome; it was delicious.”

  I rolled my eyes and tapped the indent on his chin with my forefinger. I knew he hated it when I did that. I cackled. He swatted me away, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

  "Leah..." Mama frowned. “Stop harassing your brother.”

  I spooned more dry cereal into my mouth and swallowed. I blew my breath out through my nostrils.

  Ollie drank the orange juice in his glass in huge gulps before standing up to get some more.

  “I forgot to tell you guys…” he said turning back with a sheepish shrug. “I’ve got a chess match Saturday afternoon. Can someone come pick me up? It’s just downtown. I can catch a ride there, but the guys want to stay the night…”

  He didn’t have to say anything else. He couldn’t afford to pitch in to stay overnight. Money was tight and what little I made at my job covered the basics but nothing more. Things were better when Mama could hold down a job but those days, like her good days, were few and far between. I had a feeling the diner job didn’t work out.

  “Ugh,” I set my spoon down. “You could’ve told me earlier. I told my friend I’d take photos of her.”

  “I’m sorry Lee, I forgot all about it —”

  “I can do it.” Mama interrupted. She stood in between us. “I’m free on Saturday.”

  A corn flake shot to the back of my throat, and I coughed loudly. Mama gave me a narrowed stare, and I swallowed the rest of the cereal in my mouth.

  “You are?” I said warily. I cleared my throat.