The Billionaire's Desire (A Billionaire BWWM Steamy Romance) (24 page)

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It was
right there in front of me. Right there in black and white. But I refused to
accept it.

Instead,
I set the letter of resignation on my desk and put my chipped coffee mug right
over the offending words. If I didn't have to read them then they couldn’t be
true.

I
reached for my phone and pulled up Kia's number. "Call me," I texted
rapidly, then thought again. "Please." I added, then paused, waiting
for her to respond. "Kia, we need to talk about this," I wrote,
trying to ignore how badly my hands were shaking. "Please don't
quit."

I
waited, watching the clock display. One minute went by, then two minutes. I
stared at the phone as if I could will her to write back. Hot rage boiled up in
my veins and I turned and threw my phone against the wall as hard as I could.

"Sir?"
Dalton's bald head poked in the minute the resounding crash was over. He eyed
my shattered phone, expressionless. "Shall I purchase you a new
phone?" he said smoothly.

I sat
back down in my chair, gripping the armrests tightly. "Yes," I
answered tightly, before I buried my head in my hands. "And Dalton?"

"Yes
sir?"

"Bring
the car around, I have somewhere I need to go."

"Of
course."

I
grabbed my suitcoat and was almost out of the door when I stopped and
remembered something. Turning, I rushed back to my cluttered desk, rifling
anxiously through my papers until I finally found that random scrap written in
Kia's bubbly script. Clutching it tightly, I rushed down to the lobby.

"Good
afternoon, Mr. Kingsley," the girl behind the front desk....April or May
or whatever her name was, sang out.

"Yeah,"
I grunted, rushing out the door the minute I spied my car being brought around.

I
didn't want the driver. Even with the panicked lump that was threatening to
close off my throat, I still maintained enough foresight to know that I needed
to be alone. I didn't need to complicate Kia's life any further than I just
had.

The
address belonged to a building only a few blocks from mine. I don't know why
that struck me the way it did. Suddenly I understood why Kia was always
breathless when she arrived at the office.

She
walked all the way here in those delicate, vintage shoes.

I
slowed down, pulling over into an open space and peering at the building. There
was a coffee shop at the main level, but just underneath it, off to the left, I
could see a glass-blocked basement window. It was hung with a saffron curtain
the same exact shade as the cardigan Kia was wearing on the first day I met
her. In fact, I would wager money that it was cut from the same bolt of cloth.

Seeing
that little blaze of color, that small artistry on display did something
strange to my insides. I felt like my heart dropped straight into my stomach,
splashing me with the simultaneous feelings of hope and dread. Because I knew
without a doubt that this was where Nakia James was living.

But
behind the saffron shade, the room was pitch dark. There was no one home.

I
picked up the piece of paper again. I knew the address was correct, but she was
not here. I had sent her several text messages, but she had not replied. And
now?

Now I
had no idea what to do next.

I
didn't know what classes she took, I didn't know her friends. I didn't know
where she liked to spend her time, what she enjoyed or really anything about
her personal life.

With
mounting shame, I pulled out into traffic, narrowly avoiding a delivery truck.
The horn blared loudly, but it wasn't enough to drown out the noise of my own
guilty conscience screaming at me.

You just had to do it, didn’t you?

You broke Kia, just like you broke Dana.

And
now you've driven
her
away too.

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I
didn't need to look at the clock. The shuffling of papers, combined with the
creak of desk chairs and the discreet tucking of books back into battered
bookbags heralded the last five minutes of my Fashion Merchandising class.

It was
good thing too. I was already having to grip the desk hard to keep the room
from spinning. I hadn't heard a word Professor Harding had said about the
emerging Bangladeshi markets. I believed in taking notes longhand, but today
they were a jumbled mess.
 
My notebook
consisted of garbled sentence fragments and long scribbled lines where my pen
trailed off the paper.

It had
been almost four weeks since I left Kingsley Designs. I had thrown myself back
into my classes, trying to convince myself that I had made the right decision.

But my
body was in full revolt. Odd, phantom pains fired in my joints, especially
around my hips and pelvis. At first I had blushingly thought they were remnants
of Zach's hands on my body, his rock hard cock entering me for the first time....

But
then I had started throwing up.

And I
really hadn't stopped.

The
dizziness came and went with no real rhyme or reason. I couldn't point to a
single thing that actually caused it. Somehow I had figured out that being
hungry made it worse, so I now took to carrying a packet of crackers everywhere
I went. Some days I could eat an entire sleeve in one sitting, while other days
I could only manage to get a few down before throwing them all back up again.

A part
of me wondered if my body was in full on revolt at the idea of never seeing
Zach again, never feeling his lips on mine again, never watching his eyes light
up when I walked into the room again.

But I
put that aside.
 
I had done the
right thing. I had to believe that.

"Kiki?"
Rayna was maneuvering her way through the jumble of desks, looking concerned.
"You look like hell," she observed, leaning up against my desk.

I
looked up, startled. There was no one left in the classroom. I had somehow
missed the end of class, missed the assignment, and missed the mass exodus out
of the auditorium doors. I had been lost in a fog through the whole thing.

"I
feel like hell," I admitted, not even bothering to correct her when she
called me Kiki. Only my mother was allowed to call me that, but right now I was
too tired to care.

"Hmmph,"
she snorted. Rayna was a pain in my ass, but I knew her heart was genuine, even
if she had a prickly way of showing it. "I was going to invite you out
tonight. See if getting you drunk might dissolve that stick in your ass..."

"Other
people have tried that before," I croaked, dizzily trying to smile at her.
"I only end up policing how many shots everyone is having and reminding
everyone of classes in the morning. I figured you'd know that."

Rayna
tossed her rippling black hair over her shoulder. "Okay fine, I'll stop
lying, I was going to ask you if you could be DD. But now I'm wondering if it
shouldn't be me who's driving you home. What's going on?"

"I
just can't seem to shake this...flu or whatever it is," I moaned. I was
being more dramatic than I usually was, but for some reason I felt very close
to tears. I wanted Rayna to put my head in her lap and brush my hair away from
my forehead while she sang lullabies.

I
wanted my mother.

I
hastily turned away and acted like I was going to sneeze, surreptitiously
wiping away the tears that had suddenly gathered for no apparent reason.
What the hell is wrong with me?

"
Yeah, okay hon, come
with me," Rayna clapped her hands together as she stood up.

"No,
I have to go to the studio...," I shook my head.

"Nope,
not going to happen. You look like warm death and I really don't want your
demise on my conscience. You're coming with me." Rayna gently lifted me to
my feet, her grip stronger than I would have expected.

I
allowed myself to be led, docile with nausea. Her car was in the close lot, a
prime parking space she was giving up to take me home. I felt a swell of
appreciation brush against the hurt pride. "You don't have to do this,
Rayna," I mumbled. "I'm fine."

"You
said you have the flu or something?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I
guess so. Or a stomach virus. Or the plague." I shook my head. "I
just generally feel like shit."

Rayna's
big brown eyes widened, but she didn't say anything. She opened her passenger
door, sweeping aside a drift of papers, books and shoes to make room for me to
sit down.

I
collapsed gratefully into the seat, pressing my forehead against the cool
window. "I'm just going to run into the drug store and grab something for
you, okay?" Rayna informed me. I nodded mutely, my eyes closing of their
own accord.
 

I must
have napped, because the next thing I knew, the door was opening. I flung out
my arms to keep from tumbling out onto the sidewalk. Rayna caught me at the
last second.

"Okay
Kiki, here we go, you have your keys? Good girl, I'll take care of that."
Her whole demeanor had changed. She kept up a consistent parade of soothing
babble as she helped me into my apartment, gently took off my shoes and settled
me down into the cool sheets. "That's a good girl, you got it.
Everything's fine, you'll feel better after you sleep." She brushed my
hair back in the way I had hoped she would and I felt those rogue tears leap to
my eyes again. "All right Kiki, I'm going to go, but I left something on your
toilet for when you wake up, okay? You'll see it on the lid."

"Mmmkay,"
I mumbled, snuggling into my pillow. Then my eyes flew open again. "Gonna
puke," I warned as the world lurched sideways.

Rayna
hauled me back to my feet and the two of us ran to the bathroom, barely making
it in time before my stomach violently purged itself of its contents. My
embarrassment at Rayna seeing me like this was only surpassed the mortification
I felt when I saw the box that Rayna had set on the lid of the toilet. It was
now lying on the floor, staring at me like an accusation.

"I
just thought...just thought you'd want to be sure," Rayna told me, nudging
the pregnancy test towards me with her toe.

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He's not going to be a distraction for me,
that's
for sure.

"It's
nice to meet you, Oliver," I said.

The
man, no, kid, in front of me closed his hand loosely around mine. "It's
such an honor, sir," Oliver said, enthusiastically pumping my hand up and
down.

I
winced, I couldn't help it. I’d spent almost a month alone in this office and
the last thing I needed was to be reminded of what I’d lost.

"Please
don't call me sir," I said, trying to smile winningly, but only succeeding
in baring my teeth at the poor kid. "Mr. Kingsley is fine."

"Okay
Mr. Kingsley," Oliver smiled so widely I was afraid his eyes would bug out
of his head. "I am such a fan, I have been since forever. Your couture
work was what got me started...."

"Thank
you, that's great." I didn't mean to cut him off, but time was wasting. "I
need you to get yourself up to speed on the Winxhing account. We have a
teleconference with them in two days, and I want to have our ducks in a
row."

God…
The fucking Winxhing account. I’d put them off just like everything else after
Kia’s departure. Told people I was busy with a secret project and locked the
damn door. Time had crept up on me, and I couldn’t put things off any longer.

"Right,"
Oliver's smile faltered a little , but he nodded enthusiastically once again.

I sat
back down at my desk and opened my laptop. Looking up, I saw Oliver was still
standing there, that enthusiastic smile now plastered across his face like a
grimace. "Was there something else, Oliver?"

"Er,
no sir...Mr. Kingsley. Go look over the file, got it."

I
sighed. "The file room is on the main floor."

He
breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay."

"Good."
I turned back to my screen, pulling up the CAD file I had been working on, an
idea I had been toying with. Something based on that saffron yellow that
reminded me of Kia.

I was
just starting to feel my rhythm return when there was the soft noise of a
throat being cleared. I looked up sharply to see Oliver grinning like a maniac,
his eyes filled with panic. "What the hell is wrong now?" I barked.

"Er,
you said which file?"

"The
Winxching account!" I nearly exploded. "The licensing company that my
cunt of an ex-wife sold my soul to! Go get it!"

"No
problem Mr. Kingsley, just...er...."

"What?!"

He
swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "How do you spell
that?"

Something
in my mind snapped. I stood up like I was being pulled by an invisible force
and stalked towards the elevators, leaving Oliver gaping open mouthed as the
doors closed behind me.

Once
down in the lobby, I pushed open the front doors into the autumn chill. The
weather had finally turned, and late October wind blew away some of the rage
that was clouding my thoughts. I lifted my phone and held it to my ear. When it
went to voicemail, I started to speak.

"Kia,
I know why you left. I understand. But I need you to know that I miss you. I
miss you more than you...more than I can even understand. Please, call me, text
me, something. I need to see you. No, that's not right. I just...need you. Kia.
Please."

The
voicemail beeped loudly in my ear, cutting me off with a menu of options. I
stabbed my finger on the off button and shoved it back into my pocket.

That
was when I felt it starting to vibrate. My heart pounded in my throat as I
raised it back up to my ear. I swallowed hard. "Hi there," I said
softly.

"Hi,"
she replied.

A
million thoughts raced through my head when I heard her voice, but the only
thing I could say was the only thing I needed in that moment. "Can I see
you?"

She waited so long I thought I
had dropped the call. "Okay," she finally breathed.