Wild Open Hearts (Bluewater Billionaires) - Kathryn Nolan Page 0,13

tilt her chin to look at me. Luna tossed her hair and extended her hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mason,” she said. “Thank you for what you do.”

I delayed shaking her hand. I guess I hadn’t expected her to offer. I was usually feared when I moved through the streets of Miami. And it wasn’t like she really cared about me.

“Hello,” I finally said, voice gruff. I closed my fingers around her wrist, my hand engulfing hers. Her hand was warm and soft in mine. “I’m, uh… sure this place isn’t what you’re used to.”

“Looks nice to me,” she said. But I caught a wrinkle in her brow as she searched the small, shabby space. A similar wrinkle in her nose, like she’d caught the smell of something bad.

Call me Beck—the words were on the tip of my tongue. I needed to schmooze the hell out of this woman. But her wealthy presence had my hackles up, and the thought of begging anyone for money caused my pride to rear its ugly head. That pride had gotten me out of juvie and on the right track, even as the Mason family had made it clear I was expected to return to a life of crime. But I’d forged ahead, on my own, refusing their help at every turn.

I fucking hated asking for help.

And as Luna flip-flopped over to a chair and sat, I imagined begging her for a hand-out. Felt pissed all over again.

“Jasmine Hernandez,” the other woman said, shaking my and Elián’s hands before going back to her phone.

The woman with the earpiece nodded at me. “Bella,” she said. “Personal security.”

Elián flashed me a private look. I guessed billionaires usually had security.

Or had my last name scared her?

“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice,” Luna said. “I’m sure you’re incredibly busy every day. This spontaneous meeting is greatly appreciated.”

She looked sincere. But I saw her gaze flick down my body, examine my heavy work boots, old jeans, leather vest. That flick cast around the office again and I caught a look of pity that had my fingers curling into fists.

Jasmine lifted the heel of her expensive-looking shoes, lip curled at what she saw stuck to the bottom.

“Why don’t you tell Beck and I why you’re here today,” Elián said.

Luna’s mouth tightened. “I’m not going to beat around the bush. You may or may not have seen the news from yesterday. I own a cruelty-free company called Wild Heart. It was recently discovered that our supplier has been testing on animals this entire time. As you can imagine, since I’m a vegan myself, animal cruelty in any form is abhorrent to me.”

Pain crossed her face for a second. I was no vegan—I was wearing a leather vest and ate meat four times a day—but the rainbow billionaire and I could technically agree on the “no cruelty to animals” thing.

“So you’re looking for a nonprofit to use to make yourself look better now?” I asked.

“I’m looking to make real change,” she replied smoothly.

I gave her my best I’m-a-repeat-criminal-offender look. Which Elián always pointed out was never necessary, since my appearance—and my last name—usually scared people. But Luna only cranked up her sunny smile.

“Why are you glaring at me like I have dog shit on my face, Mr. Mason?” Luna asked. The teasing gleam in her eye said gotcha.

Elián smirked. Even Jasmine looked up from her phone.

“Because I’m not interested in having Lucky Dog be used, money or not.” I shrugged.

“To be clear, we really need money,” Elián interrupted. “Badly. Like a lot of money.”

“Great,” Luna said. “Because trust me when I say that my intention is to raise Lucky Dog’s profile as well as a significant amount of funding for whatever you need, whatever is most urgent.”

“We need funding to rescue more dogs,” Elián said, which calmed me a bit.

The dangerous thing about my pride was that it clouded my vision.

“Yes,” Luna said. “Let’s make that happen. I’ve basically betrayed the public’s trust and my fans’ faith in me. They need to reconnect with me, my values, Wild Heart as a brand. I’d like to prove to the world I’m as compassionate as I say I am.”

“By filming her experience here,” Jasmine said, “working alongside the staff, interviewing them. Interviewing Beck. Real motivational stuff. If you can get your fans to cry, you can get them to buy your products.”

I narrowed my eyes—and even Luna looked briefly concerned at Jasmine’s words.

“A mutually beneficial partnership,” Luna finished quickly. “An immersive