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Hope: A Bad Boy Billionaire Holiday Romance (The Impossible Series Book 1) by Tia Wylder (52)


 

Gah, I would kill to be in your shoes right now.” Miranda sat across from Elizabeth at Rigoletto’s Italian Bistro. “And he just gave you the job. Just like that?”

Elizabeth sipped a glass of wine. The red left a delicate stain on her lips. “Gave is such a nice word. It was more like an ultimatum.”

The two girls giggled. Miranda had dragged her out to celebrate after work. “You are incredible. I mean, one day on the job, and boom! You’re already part of the PR team.”

“I believe the word he used was ‘mascot.’”

“Don’t let him get to you. I’m telling you, he just likes to tease you to get a reaction. Besides, let’s not let this taint our evening. A toast to new friendships and personal successes!” Their glasses clinked together.

Elizabeth’s head was starting to swim. She was on her third glass of wine. As long as they didn’t have her do anything embarrassing, this could be a great opportunity. At least she was still involved in the company, even if there was a catch to it. She stared down at her plate and pushed around the last few noodles with the tip of her fork.

“Are you ok?” Miranda’s eyes wrinkled at the edges with concern

“Me?” Elizabeth looked up at her with a soft, natural smile, “I’m great. I’m happy. I have this new job, new house, new friend. For the first time in a long time, I am actually happy.”

“I’m glad for you. I notice you didn’t say boyfriend in that list.” Miranda winked at her.

Laughing, Elizabeth shook her head, “Nope. No boyfriend. I’m not against it, but I’m not seeking it either. I’m just enjoying life, you know?”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

“Stick with me, kid. You’ll learn a lot.” Miranda smiled at her joke. Elizabeth had a way of lighting up a room just by being in it.

The waiter came and picked up their plates and checks. As she stood up, Elizabeth realized she may have been more affected by her wine than she had initially thought. Miranda offered to give her a drive home, but she chose to take a cab. On the drive home, lights and city life flitted past the window. It was beautiful when you really looked at it, like glittering hives of life and fun.

“Thank you for the ride!” She tipped the driver when he dropped her. Carrying her shoes in her hands, she walked across the rough driveway to her front door. There was a slip of paper stuck between her door and the frame. “What’s this? Sorry we missed you.” Crap. The furniture people.

Elizabeth jiggled her key into the door. One more night without her bed. She groaned internally. She completely forgot about them coming today. After everything that had happened, it had just slipped her mind. She would have to call tomorrow and arrange a new delivery time. Closing and locking the door behind her, she crawled straight into the pile of blankets on the floor. She would worry about a shower in the morning.

It seemed like she had just closed her eyes when a banging on the door woke her up. Elizabeth squinted at her phone. “Who the heck knocks on my door at five in the morning?” She pulled the door back quickly, a cranky expression wrinkled her nose. “What?!”

“Good morning to you, too, Lizzie. Surely you’re not wearing that to work.”

She banged her head softly on the door three times, “My name’s Elizabeth. It is five in the morning. Why are you here, Mr. Page?”

“We have a photoshoot this morning.”

“A what?!” Her eyes shot open.

“A photoshoot. Is that the same dress you wore yesterday?” He eyed her up and down.

“I got in late last night. Just, come in. I’ll throw on something else.” She waved him in and tried to massage the hangover out of her temples. She was a little out of practice with drinking, and it was starting to catch up to her. “I would say have a seat, but my furniture hasn’t arrived yet.”

Derrick watched her scoot along the wood floors to the living room. He placed his hands in his pockets and let his eyes wander. Peeking into the other room, he saw her digging through boxes for something to wear. A haphazard pile of bedding was mounded in the center of the living room. He shook his head. How had someone like her made it this long in life?

“Do you always sleep in your clothes?”

“Oh, um, I was drinking last night, and I didn’t feel like changing. I typically just wear something comfy to sleep in.” Her voice drifted in through the other room.

“Really? I didn’t peg you for a party girl.” While spoke, he saw a moment of indecision come across her. She glanced towards the kitchen, but didn’t see him. With a quick shrug of her shoulders, she pulled off her old dress and lifted and fresh one over her head. Derrick found himself momentarily transfixed as his eyes traced her curves. It would be so easy to walk in there and catch her off guard. He averted his eyes. She was an employee. There were plenty of other women around. No need to dip his pen in company ink.

“No, it wasn’t like that. I was just out with a friend.” She came back into the kitchen, straightening her dress. Looking up, their eyes locked. “Not a boyfriend. It was just a friend. A girlfriend. Well, a girl that’s a friend, you know? Not a girlfriend-girlfriend.” Elizabeth quickly shut her mouth to stop her rambling.

He fought back a snicker, “Right. Well, now that we have that cleared up, let’s go.” Derrick walked out of her front door and headed for his vehicle.

“Um, about that…I don’t exactly have my car.” He stopped and swiveled to look at her. “I took a cab home. I didn’t want to drive when I had been drinking.”

Derrick sighed, “Come on.”

“What?”

He opened the passenger side door of his sportscar, “Get in.”

Elizabeth slid across the seat, “Whoa. It practically hugs my butt. Suddenly, I see the appeal of these things.”

Derrick stifled a chuckle as he shut her door and walked around to the driver’s seat. “I take it you’ve never ridden in a car like this?”

“Like this? No. I’m not sure I would even classify this as a car. It’s more like a luxury recliner on wheels. This may be the sleeping on the floor talking, but this feels so good.” She leaned back into the plush leather.

He had to focus not to be aroused by the soft, relaxed moan that escaped her lips. She was getting this much pleasure out of sitting in a car? It was such a simple thing, something he took for granted every day. His thumb reached over and gently pressed the button to turn on the heated portion of her seat. There was no harm in giving her a little more pleasure, if it never got to the physical level.

Her eyes widened in alarm. “Oh no.” She squeezed her knees together.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes glanced at her in confusion.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but…I think I may have peed in your car. I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for your cleaning bill or—” Derrick busted out laughing this time. He couldn’t help himself. “I don’t know why you think that’s so funny.”

“You didn’t pee. I turned on the heated seat.” He finally managed to get ahold of himself.

“What?!” She quickly placed a hand between her thighs. It was dry but warm. She reached over and punched him lightly on the arm “That wasn’t funny!” After she punched him, the mood in the car changed. No one had ever punched him like that before.

He shifted his posture uncomfortably. He needed to get this under control before things got too friendly. “Please remember this is a business relationship, Miss Adams.”

‘Miss Adams.’ He only called her that when she was in trouble. “Yes, sir. It won’t happen again. I apologize.”

He parked in front of Page Industries. The sun was starting to creep through the gaps in the buildings. Elizabeth fought back a yawn and climbed out of his car carefully. His brisk pace was hard to keep up with. He walked like a man who knew where he was going in life, and each step was dedicated in that pursuit. She had to almost jog to keep up with him. By the time they arrived at a door on the second floor, she was out of breath.

Derrick pushed it open to reveal a room stocked with different wardrobe choices and a counter lined with makeup. A man wearing an Italian suit strutted over to them, “This is what you bring me to work with?” He looked her up and down with his nose in the air and clicked his tongue. “You’re lucky I’m so good at my job. Come with me.” He pulled her by the arm to a chair where lights blared in her eyes.

“Be good to my girl, now.” Mr. Page left the room, leaving her with the bald man in front of her. Elizabeth felt her heart give an involuntary flutter as he called her his girl. It was silly, but still…

Mr. Perkins stood in front of her, studying her as if she were a work of art. “You look like you had quite the night. From now on, no more drinking unless at a sanctioned event, and even then only polite sips. Drinking wreaks havoc on the skin, my dear.”

“Yes, Mr. Perkins.”

“Oh, please. Mr. Perkins is my husband. You can call me Tim.” He picked up an exfoliant and applied it to her face.

Elizabeth waited patiently as he applied various powders and cremes to her face. When he was finished, he spun her around to face a mirror. “Oh my,” Elizabeth turned her face to see the contouring better. “It doesn’t even look like me anymore.”

“Well, of course it does. It’s just a different side of you that has been waiting to come out. Now, time for a wardrobe change.” His fingers danced across the racks of clothing. “I think purple would suit you nicely. Regal and still welcoming. Try this on.”

Elizabeth took the dress from him, but hesitated. He sensed her unease and turned around to give her some privacy. Careful not to mess up her makeup, she slipped into the dress. “I can’t get the zipper. Could you help me?”

“Not a problem,” Tim helped her finish zipping up the dress. “You are a vision.”

“Do you think so?” She stepped back in front of the mirror.

“Good work, Tim.” Derrick appraised her from the doorway. Black lace sleeves hugged her arms. The sweetheart dip of the neckline accentuated her bosom without being too revealing, and a sparkling sliver belt rested gracefully on her natural waist. The deep purple of the fabric went well with her light skin tone and dark hair. He smiled at her, “Are you ready?”

“I think so.” She fought the urge to bite her lip. It would mess up the makeup Tim had worked so hard on.

“Good. Our plane leaves in an hour.”