The Billionaire’s Girlfriend (His Submissive #5)(3)
Author: Ava Claire

“This is delicious,” I said finally. Even though I’d had her spaghetti countless times before, it felt like the first time.

My mother flashed a warm smile before she took a sip of her drink. “It’s Grandma Nathalie’s recipe.” Grandma Nathalie was my father’s mother. She’d come to the states from Sicily with her family when she was a child. “She gave it to me after I married your father.”

I knew what was next, but it didn’t stop me from hoping she wouldn’t go there. “And I’ll give it to you when you marry Jacob.”

I stabbed at my salad with swift, vicious strokes. “Even if I did cook, I won’t need the recipe, Mom.”

“Of course you will. Even if he can afford fancy restaurants, there’s nothing like a good, home cooked meal.”

Other than the obvious fact that Jacob and I were nowhere near the wedding planning stage of our relationship, my mother was conveniently forgetting that the last time I’d tried making a home cooked meal I’d nearly burned our house down.

“Actually, I think Jacob is more likely to the cook the meals.”

Her brown eyebrows arched in surprise. “He is?”

“Well, I’ve only had his breakfast,” I said after swallowing a forkful of spaghetti. “But it was killer.”

“Huh,” she said with a chuckle. “I would have guessed the only thing he knew about cooking was it being something the help did.”

“Nope,” I said, pride settling on my skin like a warm blanket. “He’s actually full of surprises.”

I wished I could take the last bit back as soon as it came out but it was too late, Mom was already on the edge of her seat, hoping my admission was the opening for some juicy tidbit.

I shook my head and laughed despite myself. Even if I was going to share anything, the last person on earth I’d share it with would be my mother—even if she hadn’t planned to set me up with the vultures.

She thankfully didn’t push the issue. “So I can tell you’re enjoying the new beau…how about the new job?”

I dropped my eyes to the flowered tablecloth, flushing even though I knew there was no way my mother knew about the contracts or its sexual contexts. Still, it was impossible to not think about submission when I thought about my position as Jacob’s personal assistant. And when I thought about submission, it was impossible not to think about how right it felt to be bound, exposed, and completely at his mercy. Those thoughts sent all sorts of needs and pangs to the most inappropriate places in the world considering my mother was sitting a few feet from me.

I cleared my throat and forced my eyes back up to meet hers. “The job is great. I think I told you over the phone that we were in Venice for a junket. It was really cool to be behind the scenes and actually see what it entails and managing our client to make sure everything went off without a hitch.”

She propped her chin on the palm of her hand, looking at me with stars in her eyes. “You should have seen the girls’ faces when I told them you were working at Whitmore and Creighton. Everyone just loves that PR show.”

PR was one of the highest rated reality shows on TLC and had recently been renewed for another season. I remembered watching it, wishing, hoping I’d get a chance to work at Whitmore and Creighton. I still couldn’t believe I was an employee, or that one of the producers had approached me for some on-air segments before I’d even gotten back stateside. I wasn’t silly enough to think that they were interested in me alone, but since I was dating Jacob, I was suddenly a person of interest.

“Maybe we can have lunch one of these days,” Mom said dreamily. “I’ll take the train out to the city and we’ll eat at one of the places where a salad costs thirty bucks.”

“Just let me know and I’ll have my secretary pencil you in,” I said jokingly. It was still hard to wrap my mind around the fact that I could actually afford those kinds of places.

“I’m so proud of you, Lay.” The expression on my mother’s face was one she’d worn at award ceremonies, track meets, and graduations. It was one that still made me feel like I could do anything under the sun. “And I’m so happy about you and Jacob. It really is like something straight from a movie.”

“Well, don’t go booking a wedding DJ or anything,” I said warily. I pushed away from the table, taking our dishes to the sink. “We just started dating, Mom”

“Since when did you become such a Negative Nancy?” she countered. “I read those comments on the internet. Tons of women wish they could be in your shoes.”

I held a dish under the water, the gushing liquid hypnotizing as red sauce oozed from the porcelain. I read the comments too—and they weren’t all fairy tales and well wishes. Dating Jacob opened me up to the scrutiny of women who wanted their own happy ending with Jacob. To them, I was average and leagues away from the models he used to date.

As I shut off the water and stacked the dishes in the dishwasher, the mask of confidence I’d been wearing began to fade. Jacob and I hadn’t been dating long enough for diamond rings and nuptials, but if I was honest, that wasn’t the only reason the wedding talk grated. There was still a part of me that had the same question all of those flabbergasted commenters had:

What the hell does he see in her?

****

"What do you think?"

Jacob’s apartment building was unbelievable. We were greeted by a doorman that knew Jacob by name and I swooned a little when Jacob knew his and asked about his new baby. The immaculate lobby was lined beautiful works of art, marble statues worthy of any museum and a freaking fountain. A man dressed in a sleek black suit and a gold name tag immediately greeted us and informed me that as the concierge on staff he would be at my ‘beck and call’. He didn’t even bat an eye when I said I was craving some macaroons from clear across town and I had to tell him I was joking when I realized he was actually about to arrange it.

A private keyed elevator shuttled us up to Jacob’s sky rise apartment and even though I’d spent the past month at his villa in Italy and was no stranger to the opulence that came with being Jacob Whitmore, his sun filled loft was truly something to behold.

Beams of light glittered like diamonds, illuminating every square inch. The expansive living room and fireplace were flanked by lush couches, generating a clean, modern feel. The separate dining room could have been pretentious but instead it had a classic lived in ambiance, mixing dark wood and paneling. The library room off the dining room was lined with books and opened up to an amazing terrace that overlooked the bustling city. A floating glass staircase ascended to what I was sure would be even more exquisite furnishings and views.