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The Billionaire's Lust (His Submissive #7) Page 10
Author: Ava Claire

But it didn’t do anyone any good to confirm the obvious fact that Jacob was dodging him, so I just shrugged. “He’s been busy since we got back from Italy.”

“Right.” The word was a tight, uncomfortable response that he cleared with a rumble of his throat. Cade wasn’t buying my excuse and probably wasn’t very appreciative of the fact that he had to blow up Whitmore and Creighton’s phone at all. Even though the nature of our business was handling clients and publicity situations, the word ‘handled’ left a bitter taste in the mouth. For a person used to being worshipped and having all the power, surrendering it and being powerless wasn’t easy to accept.

“I want to call a truce.”

I clicked the lid back on Jacob’s coffee. “I wasn’t aware we were fighting. I’m handicapped from the get go since you decide when you want to be a jerk and I’m supposed to just take it.”

“I’m trying here, Leila.”

I bit my lip, knowing he was right. I either needed to leave or let him explain. I decided on the first. “Fine.”

“I don’t have many friends,” he began. “I mean, I have guys I can call up for a beer every now and then. And girls that I can…” He trailed off, averting his eyes.

If he’d played that card a few months ago, I’d be all over it. But I was wary of him, wondering if he had an angle, waiting for me to put my guard down so he could set fire to my best intentions.

“I know them all through the business,” he continued. “And I know they’d all lose, block, or erase my number when the lights die down. Hell, half of the people in my contact book distanced themselves after I became box office poison.” It was clearly a sore subject because his eyes were flashing, a stormy sea of green and gray. “Fake as hell. Fair weather friends.” He exhaled. “But not you. You’re real.”

I wavered, but I didn’t let on. “Thank you.”

“And after everything I’ve put you through, I have no right to ask for your friendship, but…” He stuffed his hands in his pocket. “I’m asking.”

“When we met up for coffee, it was supposed to be ‘as friends’ and we both know how that turned out,” I said softly.

“I’m not perfect, Leila. Nowhere near it. And I’ll admit that at first, my intentions were anything but honorable.”

I could tell he was struggling, wanting to come closer but knowing that wouldn’t make it better. The Cade I’d been getting to know lately would have done it anyway. This Cade was respecting my boundaries. Or at least trying really hard to anyway.

“I think that when you meet people,” he went on. “Special people, it’s a good idea to hold onto them. And I could be a good friend to you, if you gave me the chance.”

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust that he was different and wasn’t trying to get close out of some deep desire to sabotage me and Jacob. That part wanted to say yes. To be his friend. But I wasn’t ready to make that leap. Not yet.

“I should get this coffee to him before it’s ice cold.” I scanned his face slowly and said something I hoped I wouldn’t regret. “I’d like to be your friend, Cade. But I need time to think about it.”

His lips broke into a grin and he was practically giddy with excitement until he reined it in with a curt nod, hiding it away. “Cool. That’s all I ask.”

I sunk my teeth into my lips to keep from smiling myself as I stepped out of the coffee shop. Hopeful.

****

Megan’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull. “I can’t believe it.”

I did a slow turn, the metallic, slinky material glittering and sweeping around my body. When I’d woken up it had been hanging in the powder room, every inch of it shining like a diamond. It was an Aubri Rose dress, made by a local designer who made waves turning down A-listers that clamored to wear her designs. She chose her clients and Jacob had to make a personal appeal, describing what made me special for her to create my one of a kind gown.

“I know,” I sighed, almost clutching my warm cheeks before remembering the team that spent nearly an hour preening every bit of me, turning me into a glamazon I hardly recognized when I looked in the mirror. They’d wanted to straighten my naturally wiry curls, but Jacob vetoed that. They’d swept them to one side instead, giving me a silver screen noir look that matched my Old Hollywood style dress and applied a deep, rouge lipstick that made my lips full and luscious. “It’s amazing, right? Like Holy makeover magic, Batman!”

“You look great,” she nodded, stepping to the side to let me in. “But I’m more surprised that Jacob is letting you go to the Soldier’s Creed premiere at all. I kept expecting you to text me and say the whole thing was off.”

I bit the inside of my jaw to hold back the retort on my tongue. Let me? Jacob doesn’t have the power to let me do anything…but I knew that wasn’t true. I’d been just as surprised that he not only signed off on my attendance but insisted upon it.

After I commenced my freak out over my gorgeous dress, he took my face in his hands and said that he trusted me and it was wrong of him to take me off the Wallace case. He remembered the dressing room fiasco and how I made sure Cade avoided scandal and said I belonged on the red carpet just as much as anyone. While Jacob wasn’t one hundred percent sold when I told him about Cade’s olive branch, he told me he was going to start respecting my professional autonomy.

I shrugged a shoulder, pushing away her statement. “So what can I do to help?” Tonight was about us and I didn’t want to get into it. Not when she wasn’t even finished getting ready and the car was downstairs.

She ducked into the bathroom, applying blush as two rollers swayed and bobbed with her brisk movements. I unclipped them and red curls cascaded to join the others. I could tell she was nervous, her breathing rough around the edges.

“Everything alright?”

“It’s great,” she squeaked, then snapped her compact closed and slumped. “This blush is too much, isn’t it? And my ass looks huge and--”

“You look fantastic,” I assured her. And I wasn’t just saying it so we could get out the door. Her deep emerald sequined dress stopped just past her knees, clinging in all the right places. Her crimson hair hung in soft waves around her face. And while she was wearing twice as much makeup as usual, it was the right mix of color and drama for the occasion.

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Ava Claire's Novels
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