Be My Babygirl A Billionaire Romance - Jane Henry Page 0,33
a broken heart.
Spending time in my room, I began to make up fantasies about what I wished my life looked like. Those fantasies turned to stories. I began to write them down, illustrating them with pictures.
They were funny tales of families and the scrapes they got into, big families with lots of kids. Sure, the sisters and brothers would get into fights, but at the end of the book they were always hugging, big red crayon smiles on their faces.
They ate meals together, huge home-cooked spreads that fulfilled the hunger in my belly after finishing my microwave dinner.
All the happy faces seated around the table filled the void of loneliness that ached in my chest.
Sure, I had friends growing up. But without a parent willing to drive you to the sleepovers, able to buy the birthday present for the party you were invited to, or sign you up for the soccer team, it was hard to solidify those friendships.
College was easier. I made friends, went to parties, had boyfriends. But after graduation when we all scattered, I found myself alone once again.
My childhood fantasies turned to more adult ones. My dreams of love, marriage, and a big family found its way to the pages on my computer. A big multi-generational family living on a ranch, led by a stern, loving, cowboy husband. A few months later, and I had the start of my first series.
How do I tell Darius about my pathetic, lonely life? Will he think less of me? Will he assume that the feelings I have for him are because I’m desperate to belong to someone? Assume that coming from such a modest upbringing, I’m only after his money?
If I’m honest, though? It’s more than that. What if he thinks less of me because of what I do? And, worse... what if he thinks I’m using him? I came here for inspiration, but never dreamed I’d end up with a man like him. The more I’m with him, the less I’m here for the inspiration and the more I’m here... for him.
Or will he know what I feel for him—deep within my soul—bared from the trappings of his elegant life?
Maybe on this trip, I can come clean. Tell him that I’m lonely. That I missed him that one night I went without him.
That being with him makes me realize just how alone I truly was.
For me, this is more than just a contract, a job, an adventure. For me, this is the promise of something great. This time with him could be one step towards my future.
Our future.
But he’s not a book. And talking to him isn’t putting my pen to paper. I’m not sure I have the courage to tell him how I feel.
This isn’t your usual third date with the guy you met at the coffee shop. Darius is a billionaire entrepreneur. His circle includes swanky businessmen, elegant women, and no one like me.
I walk into his lobby, oohing and ahhing over everything I see, like a little girl. What woman gets as excited as I did over a chocolate fondue fountain?
I just don’t fit into his posh world.
But then, I think of the way he looks at me when I do get overly excited, or when I’m silly, or uncouth. I even think I detected a trace of a smile.
A real one.
I’ve seen the way he treats the staff, his business partners we’ve passed in the halls. His rare smile is tight, professional, it doesn’t reach his eyes.
His trace of a smile for me is different... and I long to see what it looks like when he really smiles for me, when it lights up his whole handsome face.
A hint of hope warms my heart.
Maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance.
I jump from the bed, showering and dressing in comfy pjs. He told me he’d be late and to order up dinner for myself, so I do. Cheeseburger, French fries, and should I get that chocolate shake, nah, I order a side salad to keep things balanced.
Happy to have some time with my computer while I wait for the food to arrive, I take my laptop from my backpack, snuggling down in the covers, my head propped against the headboard.
I pull up the first few chapters I have, skimming over the words. “Hmm…not too bad.”
Thinking of the red negligee and the sex that followed, I find my fingers dancing over the keyboard, just like they used to.