Playboy Billionaire - Page 7

My father put the catalog down on the desk. He leaned back in his chair, then folded his hands in his lap.

“Justin, you’re going to fix your life,” Dad said in a calm, steady, and even tone. “I was very angry when we last spoke, but I’ve managed to let that anger go by now.”

I laughed dryly. “Yeah, that’s real nice of you,” I said, shaking my head. “Why am I here? You giving me another card?”

“No,” Dad said curtly. “I will not be giving you another credit card, not ever, as a matter of fact. You are here because you will be working under me, with another one of my employees.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Yeah right,” I said. “Why the hell would I do that?”

The corners of my father’s lips curled in a faint but unmistakable smile.

“Because,” he said slowly. “If you do not do as I say, I’ll be terminating access to all funds. I will repossess the condominium that I purchased for you, and you will be forced to find your own work.”

The words stung, but I didn’t want to show that I was outraged. Instead, I crossed my arms over my chest.

“So?” I snickered. “I can find work. I can do just about anything you can, old man.” I leaned over his desk. “And I can probably do it better.”

Dad laughed. “While that’s a very charming lie, Justin, I’m not sure I believe you.” He stretched the fingers of his right hand into the air, then tapped them against his desk. “Let’s see. You have a worthless degree from an online university in a major that wouldn’t get you hired flipping burgers. You have no resume. You have no skills – you certainly wouldn’t be

able to work in retail. And you’re the most entitled young man I’ve ever come across.”

“Harsh,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. Was he serious? Could he really do all this if he wanted to?

“I know you don’t believe me,” Dad said serenely, almost like he was reading my mind. “But unfortunately, it’s time for change, Justin. And change begins with you shaping up your life and working for me.”

I grinned. “Well, the best boss to have is a relative,” I said with a smirk.

Dad shook his head. “Not exactly,” he said. He smiled again – a nasty one this time that showed his perfect fake teeth. “You will be treated as any other employee on probation,” Dad said. “The first time you are tardy, you will be fired on the spot. You are to behave as a gentleman. You are not to step a toe over the rules, do you understand?”

“This is outrageous,” I mumbled, running a hand through my hair and sinking down into the leather chair that faced my father’s desk. “I refuse.”

“Well, then you are welcome to find your own apartment, as well as income,” Dad said. “Shall I call security to escort you out of the building?”

Panic rose in my throat like hot lava and for a moment, I had difficulty swallowing.

“You really are serious,” I said slowly, opening my eyes wide.

Dad nodded. “To be honest, I’m a little dismayed I didn’t reach this conclusion sooner.” He smiled again and I had to fight the urge to punch him right in his smug face.

“I bet,” I said sourly.

“Shall I call in your new boss?”

I threw my arms up in the air. “You gonna cut my balls off, too?”

My father raised his eyebrows. “I’m choosing to ignore that remark,” he said. “But the next time you have an attitude with me, you’re fired.”

I sank down into the plush leather as Dad pressed a button on his desk. An intercom crackled.

“Hannah, please come into my office,” Dad said. He smiled at me. “Hannah will be your boss.”

“I have to work under a woman?” I groaned. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Seconds later, the door to my father’s opened. The mousy blonde from the hall stepped inside. Her cheeks were pink and flushed and even I could see that she looked nervous as hell. She kept sticking her little pink tongue out and licking her lips anxiously, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. As she stepped closer, I sneered when I saw what she was wearing – a badly fitting dress, probably from some discount or thrift store. Her shoes were ugly loafers, the kind that elementary school teachers wore in the nineties. And her frizzy blonde hair was piled into a knot at the top of her head, with some loose curls escaping at the nape of her neck. On another girl, it might be sexy. But on Hannah, it just made her look like she’d rolled right out of bed before coming to work.

“Hannah,” my father said. “This is my son, Justin.”

Hannah flushed even brighter. She turned to me and dipped her head slightly. “Pleased to meet you,” Hannah said softly.

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