Beauty and the Billionaire

Faith pretends to help me with my wardrobe for the office, but I know she really does it in hopes I’ll attract female attention. She thinks that I’ll get married and pop out children like the rest of them. The idea of that alone has me clenching my jaw as I draw closer to the front door of the club.

Attracting female attention has never been hard for me. Being 6’5” and having the last name Osborne almost guaranteed that. I’m also the spitting image of my billionaire father and following in his footsteps.

I made my first multimillion dollar deal at the age of twenty. It quickly became my addiction. Where others crave alcohol, gambling, or sex, it’s always been the rush of the next big close or deal for me. It’s safe to say it’s in my blood. Or so I’ve heard.

My father made a name for himself and did more than well. The man is a legend in our world, but he’s not at the office the way I am or my brother Knox. Who am I kidding? My older brother isn’t there as much as he once was either. Not since his wife started popping out my nieces and nephews.

Everyone has really pulled back from work as they’ve gotten married and had families. I feel like the last one standing. I've never seen my father be ‘work obsessed’ like many have said. He slowed down when Mom entered his life, but even she said we could be clones.

All my cousins and siblings found love young. My sister Faith, who my parents adopted when I was still in my mom's stomach, married her childhood love, Ace. He happened to be our mom's best friend's son. The King family might not be blood, but Roman and Fawn King are pretty much an aunt and uncle to us. We consider their kids to be our cousins. Well, not Faith, since she married one, but still. We’re as close as any other family. In fact, I think we’re closer. Everyone is in everyone’s damn business. I have to admit that it drives me insane.

Even my older brother Knox, Faith’s twin, married his high school sweetheart, Whitney. Mom and Dad had actually taken Whitney in from Healing Homes, a shelter our families run together. It’s where my mom and dad found my older siblings, the twins Faith and Knox. That place is a huge part of our lives. All the women in the family work there. I even get yanked in to going down to help out. My parents made sure to instill in us how important it is to give back to people less fortunate.

I bitch about it at times, but I always do my part. I just feel my part is better served making deals that pull in more money. Money that can be tossed into the charity. I’m not great with dealing with scared, troubled women. One, I’m a fucking giant who likely terrifies them without trying, and two, I don’t have shit to talk about unless it’s to do with numbers.

I nod to the bouncer at the front entrance of the club. He opens the door, letting me right in. The smell of cheap beer and perfume assaults me the second I enter the place. Colored lights flash across the room as low music plays.

My eyes quickly scan the wide-open space, trying to see where the back offices might be. I’m only here for one reason. The sooner I pick up Logan, the sooner I can get out of this place. I’ve been friends with him since grade school. No matter how hard I tried, I could never shake the friendship. He even followed me to college. Since then, we haven’t spoken much. We’re as different as can be.

It goes to show that just because two people were born with silver spoons in their mouths and the world laid at their feet, they could take two very different paths in life. Logan has had as many opportunities as I have.

Still, the last thing I thought I was going to hear when he called me last week was that he was getting married. I don’t think he ever slept with the same girl twice in college. I take that back. Sometimes he would get desperate if he couldn't find a new girl every night. I suppose if one of us were to get married, it would be him. At least he had an interest in being with a woman. My only focus was on getting my education. The sooner I had my degree, the sooner I could work full-time for my father.

My eyes glance over a few of the stages and the blur of women. I don’t let them linger. I have no problem with women doing what they want with their bodies, but it’s hard sometimes when I hear some of the stories of the women that come to Healing Hands. When I find out what they had to do to feed their families, it breaks my heart. I can’t even imagine having to do something I didn’t want to but felt I had no other choice in order to take care of my family.