Playboy Billionaire

I sighed. “I didn’t even do anything,” I whined. “Brett was the one who smacked her ass!”

“I don’t care!” Dad screamed. “You’ve been nothing but a disappointment to me ever since the day you were born!”

I snorted. “Yeah, okay. Bye, Dad,” I said sarcastically. “It’s been real.”

Before my father could stop me, I spun on my heel and waltzed out of his office. Amazingly, I made it downstairs without having security guards come running towards me.

The blonde receptionist perked up, as she always did when I walked past.

“Hey, babe,” I greeted, tossing my head to the side.

“Justin!” She cried out. “Wait! Your father just called me!”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, sure, Katie.”

“It’s Kathryn,” she replied.

Turning around, I threw my arms into the air. “And what did he want?”

She bit her lip. “You’re supposed to go back upstairs.”

I burst out laughing. “Fat chance, babe,” I told her. “I’m out of here.”

“Well, your father said he wants you to come to work, starting on Monday,” Kathryn said. She blushed as I stared at her cleavage, bursting out of a black silk tank top.

“And what if I don’t?”

The blonde paled. “I didn’t ask,” she said meekly.

I snickered. “Oh, I’ll come in on Monday,” I said, already thinking of how best to piss off my father this time. “Don’t worry.”

I spent the weekend boozing with Brett and partying with every stripper in a thirty-mile radius. We had a blowout that was off the chain – I spent over four thousand dollars in one night, just on champagne. Brett was in his highest form, pulling girls close and kissing them before they could resist.

However, despite all of the debauchery and fun, I couldn’t shake this bad feeling from the pit of my stomach. It was like a dark cloud hanging over my mind the whole weekend. Usually, girls and whiskey were enough to make me feel great. But somehow, it was like I knew that the end of my freedom was coming.

Monday morning, I put on a rumpled polo and a pair of black slacks. My father always prided himself on wearing immaculate clothing to the office, and I wanted to make it clear on the first day that I didn’t have the same values.

Deep down, I knew that my father and I were more alike than I wanted to believe. After all, it wasn’t so much that I didn’t respect him. But I never felt like he gave me the chance to prove myself. I’d grown up in his immense shadow and my father had never taken me seriously. I’d always been just a kid to him – just something to get in the way of his ambitions.

I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, but I did respect William P. Long. He’d completely revolutionized the consulting industry, and I knew that had taken balls the size of Nebraska.

But that didn’t mean that I’d ever let him know.

I strolled into my father’s office ten minutes late, wearing my sunglasses on top of my head and a jaunty grin. He had a new girl working for him – this mousy little blonde with curly hair and freckles – and I stared at her as I walked past.

“Hey sweetheart,” I said, leaning over her desk. “I’m here to meet with my dear old dad. You know where he is?”

The blonde wrinkled her nose. I frowned – was there something in my teeth? What was the matter? Normally when I smiled at little mice like her, they swooned in a heartbeat.

I wondered what I’d done wrong.

“I don’t know where Mr. Long is,” the girl said after a minute. “I just started here today.”

I rolled my eyes and groaned. “Whatever,” I snapped, turning on my heel and walking right into Dad’s office.

My father was seated behind an enormous wooden desk, flipping through a catalog of luxury office furniture. He didn’t raise his eyes until I was standing right in front of him, snapping my fingers and shaking my hips.

“I’m here,” I said. “What did you want?”