Playboy Billionaire

Jackson made wide eyes. “What, you think I’m kind of guy who lies?” He cocked his head to the side. “When have I ever lied to you?”

“That time you tricked me into showing a roomful of strangers that I’d gotten my period,” I hissed. “How about then?”

“God, Belle, that was years ago,” Jackson said mildly. He smirked, making me blush. “You really think I haven’t changed at all since that happened?”

I blinked. “I don’t know what to think,” I said softly. “I don’t know you.”

Jackson cleared his throat. The waiter approached the table and before I could stop him, Jackson had ordered two tasting course meals for both of us. I couldn’t help but gasp – I’d seen the price of those, and I knew they didn’t come cheaply.

“So,” Jackson said. He lifted his mimosa and clinked the glass against mine, where it rested on the table. “Why did you come looking for me at work?”

I bit my lip. “You know why,” I said steadily. My stomach was churning but I forced myself to take a sip of the mimosa anyway. The orange juice and champagne was a delicious combination in my mouth, but I knew that I couldn’t keep drinking – my stomach wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Jackson chuckled. “Because of my dad’s will,” he said calmly. “That’s why, right?”

I nodded and sighed. “I don’t know why he didn’t leave anything to my mother, but please. Jackson, you’re her only hope.” I forced myself to look into his steel-grey eyes. They were so beautiful, so cold – I could feel myself getting lost in them with every second that passed.

Jackson shrugged. “My father’s wishes should be respected,” he said. “I don’t know why he did that, either, but don’t you think we should honor what he wanted?”

“No,” I said softly. “No, I don’t think that way at all. Jackson, my mother is alone. And she’s going to be homeless and broke unless you help. Please, she doesn’t need much. Just enough to get a small apartment and live for a while until she’s able to find a job.”

Jackson shrugged again. “I don’t know that I can do that,” he said. “After all, that money is marked for me. It would be a lot of legal trouble if I decided to argue my father’s will, especially that it’s in my favor like this.” He raised his eyebrows at me and I felt my stomach plummet once more. “Don’t you agree, Belle?”

“I don’t,” I said softly.

Jackson smiled. “Well, I’m sure Anne doesn’t like the idea of working, but she should be able to get a job. She worked before she married my father, right?”

“Your father was the one who made her quit,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “She would have kept working the whole time, but he said it looked unseemly!”

Jackson frowned. “I don’t know why he would have said that,” he said. “My father has always respected drive and hard work in others. I doubt he said that,” he added, in a calm tone of voice that made me seethe with anger. “You’re probably misremembering.”

I knew that I had to stay calm, but this was too much. I couldn’t just sit here, across the table from Jackson, and listen to him berate my mother and call her lazy.

“I mean, really, Belle,” Jackson continued. “You’re going to have to be a little more self-aware now that you’re what, twenty?” He smirked at me. “These are things we all have to learn,” he added in a smug voice. “So don’t get upset with me for telling you the truth about your mother.”

Every ounce of calm that I’d managed to summon in the past thirty seconds flew out of my body. Standing up, I pushed the chair back from the table so forcefully that it felt open and clattered against the floor with a loud bang. Jackson looked up in surprise. I wanted to slap him again, but that’s when my eye caught my mimosa flute. Grabbing it, I threw it in his face.

“I hate you,” I snarled loudly. “I never want to see you again!”

The look of surprise was just beginning to register on Jackson’s face as I turned on my heel and ran out of Le Bateau Ivre. Tears blinded my vision and I stumbled, almost falling as I ran. When I pushed open the bistro doors and ran into the street, the cold shocked me. For a moment, I stopped, gasping for breath. Then my instincts kicked in and I started running down the street as quickly as I could.

“Hey!” I screamed towards a cab that was parked on the corner. “Hey!”

The cab pulled away before I could reach it and I groaned in frustration. There was a stitch in my side and my breath was coming in white clouds but I knew that I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t risk Jackson chasing me out into the street. I just wanted to go home to Alfred and forget that all of this had ever happened – I wanted to imagine that life was back to normal, that Mom was okay, that I’d never have to deal with this shit again.

I broke into a run again, rounding the corner and speeding down the block.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” Some lady screamed as I almost ran into her kids.

“Slow down!”

“What the fuck, girl? Where you goin’?”

The accusations from New York strangers were enough to make the tears fall faster than ever. I was choking on my snot by the time I reached the stoplight. In a blind panic, I whipped my head around to make sure that I wasn’t being followed. Thankfully, all I could see was a large crowd of people bubbling around the corners and intersections.

Gotta love New York, I thought. All these people make it a really private city, after all.

When the light changed to red, I bolted across the street. The stitch in my side ached and I longed to throw myself down on the pavement and moan in pain. I knew that I had to keep going however, and I lowered my head against the icy wind. My nose was numb and soaked with snot and I wiped frantically at my face with the back of my hand.