The Billionaire’s Lust (His Submissive, Part Seven) Read Free

grin plastered on her face, clearly moments from promising my mother on-camera time if she convinced me to reconsider doing a segment for PR .
    “I was just saying hello to your lovely mother,” Marla said innocently.
    I bet , I thought with an eye roll. “Well, I know your team is busy filming today so we’ll get out of your way.”
    I tried to steer my mother toward the elevators, but she didn’t budge. “Ms. Waylon was saying that she’d love five minutes of our time.”
    “That’s nice,” I said, wanting to give Marla a piece of my mind, but not wanting to start a scene or be disrespectful around my mother. “I have a busy schedule--” Anticipating Marla’s next play, I finished, “--and I want to give my mom the VIP tour.” I knew the words ‘VIP’ would at least give me time to get Mom in the elevator. I took the visitor badge from Fred, mouthing ‘thank you’ as I shepherded her away from the cameras.
    “That Waylon woman was a real sweetheart,” Mom piped.
    I covered my snort with a cough. ‘Snake’ was a better noun. With midnight hair and near black eyes, she was a force to be reckoned with. Marla would sell her first born for a ratings spike. If you were a nobody you didn’t exist in her universe but if she thought you’d make good TV, get on board or get run over. I’d put her off as long as possible, but I knew eventually I’d have to tell her no and face her wrath or just bite the bullet and agree to be on camera.
    “I want to see the floor they film PR on,” Mom chirped excitedly as she stepped into the elevator. “There’s that girl with the thick accent and the attitude--”
    “Missy Diaz?” I said, not wanting to hit the fifth floor button. Not wanting to introduce my mother to the woman who made my working life miserable.
    “That sounds right,” she said, jittery with excitement. “And the older women, Claudia Joy?”
    I relented and punched the button for Mrs. Joy alone. After all of her help with the photo situation, I owed her another thank you. And she was technically my only friend in this high rise building.
    The doors retracted when we stopped at the fifth floor and my mother hesitated like she’d snuck past security into some red zone and at any moment, people with guns would rush in and carry her away.
    It was adorable.
    I stepped out of the elevator, putting my arm out to keep it from shuttling her to another floor. “It’s okay, Mom.”
    Her mouth spread into a smile of awe as she moved out beside me, scanning the place she’d only seen on television. People bustled past, not doing anything remotely glamorous, but in my mother’s eyes, she was on the red carpet.
    She gripped my arm as Missy came out of one of the private offices on the wall. Her gaze narrowed over the bullpen, clearly looking for someone that wasn’t working at a fevered pace. When her dark stare made its way to where I stood, she scowled--until she cut to Mom. Her eyes went back and forth between the two of us, weighing our similarities and when she figured it out, she smiled like she’d just won the lottery.
    Great. She was coming over.
    “Leila!” Missy gushed, flipping her mahogany hair over her shoulder. “To what do we owe this honor?” She didn’t even wait for me to respond. “It’s so great to see you!”
    Great to see me? I thought, eyebrows perking. Why was she so happy to see me?
    It took less than a second for me to answer the question. Mom was shaking her hand like she was meeting a celebrity and Missy was eating it up. I wanted to tell her that Missy wasn’t what she seemed, but I knew that would just make things worse for me.
    “Miss Montgomery, Leila is such a great addition to our team,” Missy said effusively. “She has such poise, grace and tenacity.”
    “That’s my Leila,” Mom beamed. She took a step back, peering at Missy with her head tilted to the side. “You and Leila are close then?”
    Missy lied as easily as breathing. “Of