Always My Babygirl A Billionaire Romance - Jane Henry Page 0,9
I’ve pulled it off.
Up till now.
I owe it to my girls to rock the fuck out of this night. To blow the mind of this Sugar Daddy. To earn this client’s repeat business.
Thirty minutes later, I’m showered, shaved, lotioned and potioned. Perfume and light makeup. Hair shining like a mermaid. Dressed in my fluttering white dress and silver strappy heels.
I look the part. Now, time to play the game.
It’s only a few blocks, but I don’t want to get sweaty, so I order an Uber. The driver does a double take, his jaw dropping. I take it as a good sign. “Vegas, Baby, please.”
“You got it.” He sneaks glances at me out of the rearview mirror.
I hold in a grin. My nerves dissipate. This should be a piece of cake.
We reach the hotel. I grab my bag and thank the driver. I go to exit the car, but as I stand, the world starts to go fuzzy, dark. “Whoa.” I slump back down on my seat.
The driver turns over his shoulder. “Miss. Miss. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” I dismiss his concerns with a wave of my hand.
“You look a little pale. Are you feeling alright?”
Damn. Did I forget to eat again? I’ve been so nervous all day… I must not have. Let me think. What was the last thing I put in my belly.
A bottle of white wine, last night.
Two espressos this morning.
After coffee, remembering I was just hospitalized for not eating, I took the time to make myself an egg white and spinach omelet. Later, I sliced up an apple, too tense for anything heavier.
“I think I’m okay. Let me just rest here for a second. Catch my breath. Do you know the time?”
“Seven-o-five.”
“I’m late.”
“You need to eat something.” He pulls a package from the console. Chocolate candies.
A little sugar. Perfect. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.” I open the package, nibbling on them.
“Don’t worry, just rest. Here—have some water.” He reaches in the console retrieving an unopened bottle of water and hands it to me. “Please. Drink this.”
I drink half the bottle of water. Thank him again. I make a second attempt to leave the car.
White stars pop into my vision. I’m still a little dizzy. Nauseous. I lean back in the seat. Close my eyes.
“Miss. Miss.” The driver’s panicked voice swirls around in my mind.
A second voice breaks into the cloudy fog. This one is assertive. Confident. “I’ve got her.”
Strong hands slide beneath my arms, lifting me from the car. Leading me to the sidewalk. I grasp for his shoulders, steadying myself.
The sugar finally hits my bloodstream. I’m feeling better now. My gaze focuses on his face. He looks… familiar. I know him from somewhere. “Gabriel? Lord? From the gym?”
“Yes. That’s me.”
“I’m lucky you were passing by and saw me. I had no idea how I was going to get out of the Uber… can you help me to the lobby? I’ve got to meet someone.”
“A date?”
“Yes. And I’m late.”
His gaze is a warning. “I’ll forgive it. This one time.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m your client. And I hate delays. But this one time I’ll let it slide.”
He’s my date? The owner of Spynners? The man that chewed me out for not having an emergency contact number listed. I give a little involuntary shiver. Who knew stern could be so... gah... sexy?
He gives me a firm stare. “Miranda, what have you eaten today?”
“Not much…”
“After passing out in my studio, and being hospitalized, you still haven’t begun to take your health seriously?” His tone is stern. Borderline angry.
Maybe it isn’t so sexy. My hackles rise. What business is it of his? “I’m a busy woman.”
“Too busy to eat?” He raises a threatening brow, sending a little shiver down my spine.
I’m getting that nervous butterfly in my stomach feeling. I’m in trouble. “I just, got, you know…”
“Come. Let’s get you fed. A proper meal. And we’ll have ourselves a little chat.”
Little chat? He makes it sound like it’s code for something.
He takes my hand. Holds it tight as if to keep me from running off. Leads me through the lobby. We ride the elevator alone. His gaze roves over my body as we rise to the top floor. “Pretty dress.”
“Thank you.” Where’s my witty banter? My dry comments? I stand there, speechless.
“I’ll order for you.” He doesn’t wait for a response. The elevator doors open once more. He takes me by the hand, leading me into Opulence, the five-star rooftop restaurant Vegas, Baby is famous for. He breezes right