Redeeming the Billionaire Playboy (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 6)
Hi there. Hi. Thinking about you. Again.
You still working? I bet you are. Good job. Way to focus.
I get bored just thinking about it.
A few seconds later, there were more:
So...what are you working on?
And a few seconds after that, there was:
Want to see a movie?
Shit. Sorry. Forgot you’re working.
I’ll see what’s showing, just in case you want to later.
Nothing. It’s all terrible.
And a few seconds after that, he wrote:
We could make a movie of our own, you know, maybe something...medieval.
Just kidding.
(Half-kidding. I’m totally willing if you are.)
Some of them were unexpectedly sweet and insightful:
There’s a children’s benefit Tuesday. We should go. It’s a cause I strongly believe in.
Others were a bit on the obsessive-compulsive side:
Thirsty. Going to find some water.
I didn’t take the bait, didn’t respond to a single one, because I knew each and every word he wrote was a dangerous sort of gateway. Once I opened those floodgates, my work day would be gone forever. Still, my lack of participation didn’t exactly stop his chronic texting. If anything, ignoring him only seemed to make him text me more, each message more absurd and hilarious than the last.
After a while, I made a strategic fort out of my papers and propped my phone up beneath them, so I could continue to read in secret. It took everything in my power to avoid bursting out in laughter when I read:
Hey, I’m taking an online quiz to find out which mythological creature I am.
While I was supposed to be translating a financial index into German, he informed me:
Dragon. Imagine that.
Huh? No one gets dragon. What did he do? Admit to eating raw meat?
Confession: I cheated. I want to be a dragon.
An involuntary snort of laughter escaped my lips, drawing stares from Madison and Caleb at the same time. True to form, the first seemed intensely frustrated, while the other broke into a smile.
“Well, he’s certainly bored today, isn’t he?” Madison snapped.
“Say hi to James for me,” Caleb said with a grin.
My face lightened with a look of angelic innocence, an expression I had seen many times lately on the face of a certain mischievous billionaire dragon and one I was learning to master myself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just working on the—”
My phone buzzed again, interrupting me, like a giant neon sign above my head, flashing “Guilty.”