The Billionaire Book Club

I’ve checked off ninety percent of my to-do list, and the office has been running pretty smoothly.

I’m about to settle into a rhythm when the phone rings again.

“Caplin Hawkins Law,” I greet, a chipper bounce in my voice.

“May I speak with Caplin, please?” a waif of a voice asks, her a’s just soft enough to be seductive.

Immediately, I’m on alert. “May I ask who’s calling?”

“Lisette Ballas,” she says. “He’s expecting me.”

Skeptical, I push further. “And what’s this call in regard to?”

“That’s private.”

“I assure you, ma’am, you have no need to worry about confidentiality here.”

“It’s social.”

I just bet it is…

“Listen, Mr. Hawkins isn’t taking any unscheduled calls today—”

“Tell him I’ll let him fuck me in the ass. I bet he’ll take the call then.”

Oh my God, what is wrong with these women?

“No. For the love of God, no,” I say, and just before ending the call, add, “And please send your ass my condolences, ma’am.”

I hang up the phone in a huff, my good mood officially soured. Just when I thought the day was going well…

I let my guard down, I get traumatized.

I swear, working for Cap has more ups and downs than a fucking roller coaster ride.

Breathing deeply, I take a swig of water and get back to work. It’s the only thing I can do to erase that woman’s proposition from my mind.

The phone rings again, and hesitantly, I answer it.

“Caplin Hawkins Law.”

“I’d like to speak with Caplin, please,” the purring female voice says, and I shut my eyes tight.

Oh, here we go again…

“Is he expecting your call?”

“No, but—”

I roll my eyes and square my shoulders. I’m d-o-n-e, done with the hussies. No. More.

“You know what? He doesn’t want to hear about your pussy or your tits or your hot and ready mouth. This is a place of business, for God’s sake! Pursue his dick on your own time!”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, sister. I know he’s hot and charming and probably really good in bed, but you need to chill out with your desperation. It’s degrading and, quite frankly, just plain disturbing for me. If he wants to take you out to eat or take you somewhere and eat you out, he’ll let you know!”

“My God, what in the world kind of trailer trash staff has my son hired?” the woman questions, her voice rising with irritation.

“I’ll tell you what kind of staff I am—”

Wait…did she just say son?

“The absolute filth you just subjected me to… You should be ashamed of yourself!”

Oh my God. She said son. She did. Which would make her Cap’s mom, and likely, my least likely fan on the planet.

My cheeks heat and my stomach clenches as I clear my throat, stand up from the desk, and start to pace despite the tug of the phone cord.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Hawkins. I thought you were—”

She cuts my apology off at the knees. “I don’t care who you thought I was, young lady. It seems like the one who doesn’t know this is a place of business is you!”

I close my eyes and bite my fist before proverbially crumbling downward into a pile of disgrace and humiliation. I am a fetal baby in the womb of Caplin Hawkins Law.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say, trying to find some modicum of positive twist on the situation. “So sorry about that, but it’s lovely to speak with you. Cap speaks highly of you.”

“Cap?” she says, the distaste so ripe in her tone, I can just about smell it. “Where were you raised, dear? A gutter?”

I wince, bouncing both of my knees up and down manically. “Southern California.”

“Hmm,” she harrumphs. “That explains some of it.”

Hey, geez. What’s this lady got against SoCal? The climate is perfect, and a lot of the people are rich. It’s not exactly like I said I’m from hell’s basement.

“Just one moment,” I say for lack of a better direction. “I’ll put you through to your son.”

“It’s about time.”

I pull the phone away from my ear and stick out my tongue, mocking, “It’s about time,” in a really snooty voice.

Cap clears his throat behind me, and I jump. Goddamn, when am I going to learn that he’s, like, always behind me?

“That for me?” he asks with a gesture of his chin when I look up at him.

“Yes,” I say cautiously, rolling my lips in on each other and sucking on them. “It’s your mother.” He steps forward to pick up the phone, but I stop him with a hand to his arm. “Just…I may have said a few harmlessly inappropriate things to her when I answered the call, thinking she was one of your floozies.” I shrug. Giggle nervously. “Heh. Whoopsie.”

He smirks and picks up the phone swiftly. “Hello, Mother.”

Mother? Gah, that’s…formal.

“Oh yeah, don’t worry about her,” he says and winks while holding my eyes. “She mixed some pills with liquor last night, and she’s still coming down from the effects.”