The Billionaire’s Secret (His Submissive #6)(13)
Author: Ava Claire

She cocked a red eyebrow. "Are you drunk already?"

It was my second, but I was a notorious lightweight. I gave her a conspiratorial wink. "Maybe."

"Oh lord," she said, shaking her head but unable to shake loose the smile painted on her lips.

"And the night is still young," I said, plunking out my straw and downing the rest in two gulps.

And I jinxed myself.

That rhythmic buzzing at my rib wasn’t my heart jumping around or the music weaving in and out of every part of me. It was coming from the purse hooked on my shoulder. It was my phone.

We don’t really work in a vacuum. We’re needed when we’re needed.

I dumped my purse on the bar, and grabbed my cell from the sparse contents. One missed call.

"From Lisa Jones?" I said aloud, frowning.

"What’s up?" Megan piped beside me.

"One second." I said begrudgingly. “Work thing.”

I had a feeling our celebratory evening was about to come to a swift end. When Lisa’s soft voice filtered through the receiver, harried and frantic, I signaled the bartender and mouthed ‘check please’.

Megan was a little too chipper about not downing her drink, walking in step with me as we pushed out the exit. "What kind of work thing?"

"I’m the point person with Cade," I explained, waving my arm to wave down a cab. "When shit hits the fan, I’m the number she calls."

And apparently, shit was bombarding the fan. Cade had apparently stumbled into the studio, smelling like a liquor store and yelling at everything that moved. Lisa wanted to cancel the interview but Cade wouldn’t listen to reason.

Megan and I slid into the back of a cab and I told the cabbie the production studio’s address.

"So after everything that happened with Jacob–"

"Why am I off to the rescue?" I finished. I popped a piece of gum in my mouth and spritzed myself with body splash. Even though I’d only had two drinks, I knew the last thing I needed was to smell like alcohol when Cade was drunk off his ass. "Because I’m a professional."

Or I was trying really, really hard to be. Honestly, the last thing I wanted was to be in the same room as Cade Wallace. And blitzed Cade Wallace? No thank you.

The cab pulled up in front of the studio and I handed him a hundred dollar bill. I could feel Megan’s worried gaze, but I pushed it away. I was worried enough for the both of us and I needed to Cut. It. Out. If Cade saw he was affecting me, he’d pounce. I wasn’t trying to give him an excuse to relaunch Operation Snag Leila.

I gave my name to security and got a clearance badge. I did some deep breathing, stretched out my neck, buttoned my jacket and rolled my shoulders back.

I gasped when the elevator doors retracted and Lisa was standing right in front. She’d sweated right through her blouse and her pale features were flushed with anger.

She took me in, noticing that I’d flat ironed my hair and was wearing stilettos too high and sexy for business.

Her face fell. "You were out. If I would have known…" She pulled at her spiky blond hair. "I’m going to kill Cade!"

"It’s alright," I said smoothly, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth. Especially when I heard someone holler ‘LISA!’ that was loud enough for the whole freaking city to hear.

Even though I knew the answer, I gave her a wary look. "Cade?"

She nodded and if I needed further confirmation, PA’s and staff members scattered past, each wearing a more irritated look than the last.

Cade repeated the screech and Lisa jumped out of her bones then wheeled toward the end of the hall. He let out a string of expletives because she couldn’t move faster than the speed of light.

Oh, hell no.

I grabbed her shoulder, stopping her. "Why don’t you go talk to Jon’s staff and let him know the interview will have to be canceled."

Lisa was a spunky chick. When she was first introduced, she traded barbs with Cade even though she was barely five feet tall. The fact that worry shaded her gaze set sirens off in my head. Sirens that the alcohol in my system dulled.

“There is no way he’s going to give an interview in his current state,” I said adamantly.

I didn’t wait for that to sink in because from the noise barreling from the end of the hallway, I needed to get to Cade before he razed the place to the ground. Even liquid courage couldn’t prepare me for the number Cade had done on the dressing room.

It looked like a toddler took the block of space, gave it a good shake then dropped it in favor for a shiny new toy. Every chair in the room was upside down. The mirror was splintered, shards of glass glittering on every surface. Bulbs flickered ominously overhead. Clothes were strewn about. Makeup, coffee, and bottles created a Pollock painting of stuff. The last brave soul skittered past me with a look on their face that said ‘Good luck’.

Cade’s back was to me, his muscles pulsing through his blazer like at any moment he’d Hulk out and shred everything to pieces.

He whirled to face me, a scowl on his face that softened when he realized I wasn’t another staffer or Lisa. When I took in his crazed eyes I wanted to retreat, but I remembered that I was the handler. I couldn’t show fear. I was in charge.

I put on a mask. Nothing but business. “What’s the problem, Cade?”

“You look great,” he deflected. He popped the collar of his polo like that changed the rest of his misshapen appearance.

“You look terrible.”

I unwisely stepped in his direction and even with five feet between us, he reeked. He smelled like he guzzled every liquor store in a fifty mile radius.

I pinched my nose closed. “Was there some sort of party I didn’t know about?”

“You tell me,” he winked, giving me a look over. “Looks like I wasn’t the only one living it up. I thought you looked amazing in corporate chic, but club siren looks great on you.”

Under different circumstances, I might have been flattered. But considering he was slurring every other word and was leering at my chest like a first class douche, I swatted the comment away. “The interview is canceled, Cade.”

“Canceled?” His blond eyebrows drew together in confusion, but it only lasted for a minute. “Is this Lisa? Because I told her–”

“This isn’t Lisa, this is me,” I said firmly. “And as a representative of Whitmore and Creighton–”

“A representative?” he scoffed. “That’s all you are to me, huh?”

“Yes, that’s all I am.” My filter must have been on a mojito fueled vacation because I gave it to him straight. “Once upon a time, back when you were just a hot guy in movies where things went boom, I fantasized about you. I wondered what it would be like to meet you. To know you. But this?” My face creased in disappointment as I gestured at the mess. “I’d give anything to go back to the fantasy. I’d give anything to go back to you just being an amazing actor that I put on a pedestal. Because the guy standing in front of me is pretty pathetic.”