Hard Impact: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Novel Read Free Page A

shrugged. “Jump off cliffs?” I never really did understand death-defying, thrill-seeking endeavors. I’d read too many stories of people dying while engaged in extreme sports.
    “He rides broncos in rodeos.”
    At first, the comment didn’t register. “What?” I asked, looking up from the papers I skimmed. Bare bones, mostly about his company.
    Melanie grinned. “You got that right. In one sentence, he’s a cowboy who grew up on a ranch in Kansas, had some family money, and is now a billionaire thanks to smart investments, but he’s a down to earth good ol’ boy with a… how shall I say it? Almost a death wish type mentality.”
    I frowned. “So what’s the big deal about him? About the rumors and innuendo Angela referred to?”
    Melanie winked. “That’s the best, juiciest part. When he was sixteen, his father was murdered—”
    “That’s terrible,” I broke in. “What’s so—?”
    Melanie lifted an eyebrow. “Blake Masters was a person of interest in the case.”
    My mouth fell open but I quickly recovered. “Was he ever charged? There’s a big difference between a person of interest and a suspect,” I pointed out.
    She leaned closer. “That’s just the thing. All of a sudden, he disappeared. Some think that the family money influenced the case. Do I think he had a hand in it or did it himself? I have no idea, and nobody else does either. The rumors have followed him ever since. He disappeared for a few years, and then poof, here he is in San Francisco starting a new company. He’s done well for himself too. His net worth is estimated at about eight billion.”
    Eight billion. I wasn’t even sure how many zeros that was. For someone who was barely projected to make thirty-five thousand this year, eight billion was unthinkable. What did someone do with so much money? Start an outdoor adventure company, naturally. I frowned.
    “But Melanie, he’s in his early thirties now, isn’t he?”
    My friend shook her head. “He’s twenty-eight.”
    “So why is this all being rehashed now? His father died twelve years ago.”
    “An ex-wife, one not at all happy with the prenup she signed.” Melanie shook her head and gave me a look. “I can’t believe you haven’t been keeping up with the story. It’s been in all the gossip magazines and the Internet for the past year.”
    I shook my head. “I don’t read gossip,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “I don’t keep up on the Kardashian’s, I don’t care about Honey Boo-Boo, and I certainly don’t care about real housewives, divas, bad girls, bachelors or bachelorettes—”
    “Okay, okay,” Melanie said, laughing as she raised her hands in surrender. “I get the picture.” Then she narrowed her eyes, a brow lifted in curiosity. “So when you do watch TV, what do you watch?”
    I didn’t answer right away. “It depends on my mood.”
    The eyebrow went higher. “What does that mean?”
    “Well, if I’m in an okay mood, I like to watch murder and mayhem—”
    “Murder and mayhem? What’s that?”
    “You know, those crime shows on TV? I got hooked on CSI when I was in junior high, but I prefer the shows that are about real cases being solved, detective shows, forensics—”
    “What else?” Melanie asked, seeming to be curious now in spite of herself. “If you’re not in an okay mood, what do you watch?”
    “I’m not sure what you’re asking,” I said, gazing down at the photograph of Blake Masters.
    “Okay, let’s be blunt. If you’re sad or in a bad mood, then what do you watch? Horror movies?”
    I looked up at my friend and laughed. “Don’t be silly. If I’m depressed, I like to watch shows that make me feel better, that make me laugh.”
    “Like what? South Park? The Simpsons?”
    “Gads no,” I said, sticking out my tongue. “Things like The Golden Girls, or Big Bang Theory. When I’m depressed, I watch my DVD of the first year of The Waltons—”
    “Oh my God,” Melanie groaned, leaning her head back