The Billionaire’s Promise (His Submissive #8)(7)
Author: Ava Claire

I had to sink my teeth into my bottom lip to quiet the laugh when I saw how he kept trying to extricate himself but people kept popping up with questions and issues. I brought my hand to my neck, massaging the kinks from sleeping on my old bed. After experiencing Jacob’s bed, everything else was like sleeping on the floor. And now I was back to thinking about beds and the man that kept stealing lusty glances at me. God, I wanted to be tied up and tied down, needed his tongue on my flesh–

“Wanna grab a cup of coffee?”

The question jolted me from my fantasy and I turned toward the voice, sure the invite was directed to someone other than me. Missy was standing a few feet away, her tight features more relaxed than usual because of the soft brown braid that spilled over one shoulder and the light makeup on her face. She was even wearing a blush colored blouse and wide leg trousers instead of her usual tailored, dark colored suits. But a makeover was one thing–talking to the chick she’d had it out for since day one was truly bizarre.

I tilted from Jacob, eyeing her skeptically. “Coffee? Me and you?”

She raised an eyebrow before gesturing at the absence of anyone else in our near vicinity. “Yes.” Her lips spread into a grin, finally realizing the obvious. We weren’t friends–why would she want to do anything with me that wasn’t absolutely, positively necessary? “I haven’t been the nicest person to you, have I?”

“Not really.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

Record scratch. Did Missy Diaz just apologize to me? I almost pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t slumped over in my chair in the back, out cold.

“No pressure. If you aren’t interested–”

“Are you kidding? I’m riveted…and also worried that you might put something in my coffee.”

She laughed, her face lighting up. “I heard you were funny.” She shrugged her shoulder. “You know what, nevermind.”

“No,” I said quickly, not wanting to walk away from this white flag even if I was a little suspicious. I paused at the door and saw Jacob was still deep in conversation before I let her lead the way. “I could actually go for a cup.”

By the looks that were thrown our way as we walked to the elevator, I wasn’t the only one surprised we were side by side by choice. I awkwardly reached for conversation topics to alleviate the silence.

“So I’m pretty excited about working with Mia Kent.” I mentally facepalmed. Mia was first on the docket, a newly twenty-one actress who had her start in kid-friendly fare. But after she hit eighteen and had a couple of projects bomb, she’d been on a publicly documented downward spiral. From shaving off her signature blond locks, piercing every visible surface, and making a series of really bad and permanent choices in both the tattoo and romance department, she was sinking fast. While a lot of Whitmore and Creighton’s clients just wanted to maintain their image, there were others that came to us to save it. Mia, unfortunately, was in the latter category.

“I didn’t mean that nearly as insensitive as it came out,” I said, stepping in the elevator and suddenly wanting this whole coffee break to fastforward.

“I know what you meant,” Missy said, stepping in after me and punching the floor number. “I took my little sister to one of her concerts a few years back. A stadium full of squealing teen girls was not my idea of a good time,” she shuddered, “But her show was actually really entertaining. You could tell she loves being up there and adores her fans.”

“Well, if we’re having Mia Kent confession time, I still put her ‘Songs for the Broken Hearted’ CD on when I want to hate the world and rock out.”

Missy hummed a few bars, moving her head to the beat. “She had some great songs on that.” The doors retracted. “She’s so talented. I haven’t enjoyed the things I’ve read about her over the past year, but it’s like—“

“You can’t look away.” I finished for her sadly.

“Well, I’m excited about working with her too,” she said, pulling open the door to the cafe, sending the warm aroma of coffee beans crashing into my senses.

I could just stand in the door and inhale that scent all day. The sound of the card reader dinging reminded me that was gonna be the only way I’d get any caffeine since I’d forgotten my ID badge in my office. “I’m gonna run up to the office and get my badge.”

“Coffee’s on me.”

I shook my head slowly. “That’s nice–” Never ever thought I’d ascribe ‘nice’ to Missy Diaz. “–but I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s just a cup of coffee, Leila.” she said dismissively, staring at the menu.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been rude to me since the day we met,” I said feeling dormant anger stir in my gut. “Like we can gossip and chat and you can buy me coffee like we’re cool.”

She glanced at me over her shoulder, dark eyes glittering like the Missy I knew and couldn’t stand. “I’m trying to let bygones be bygones.”

“And I’m trying to tell you that I don’t know why you’re being nice to me, but I don’t really trust you. I’ll have coffee with you, sure. But I’ll buy it myself. I don’t want to owe you anything.”

“Everything alright in here?”

We pivoted toward the voice, even the barista. Jacob stepped into the room, buttoning the front of his jacket, zeroing in on Missy even though his question was a general one.

Missy let out a strangled chuckle, taking a step in my direction. “Leila and I were just having a cup of coffee.”

She gave me a wide eyed ‘right?’ but I remained quiet. The more I thought about her change of heart, the more I wondered if something else was going on.

My silence was all Jacob needed for his voice to harden to stone. “I think it’s best if you leave.”

The sugary sweet became pop rocks as she gave me a final glare and sauntered out of the room. Jacob walked to the counter where the young coffee slinger was frozen like a deer in headlights. He pulled a fifty out and stuffed it in the tip cup.

“Take a break.”

The kid scurried out without another word, still wearing his apron. Jacob walked smoothly to the door and engaged the lock.

I swallowed, figuring out this was less saving the damsel in distress and more forcing me to talk to him. “I’m pretty sure that’s a fire code violation.”