Home > The Billionaire's Promise (His Submissive #8)(3)

The Billionaire's Promise (His Submissive #8)(3)
Author: Ava Claire

“Always business, eh?” Rachel purred, moving closer with long, predatory strides. She tossed a look my way. “You and I know better, don’t we Leila? Jacob Whitmore loves to mix business with pleasure.”

Jacob geared up to step in front of me, but I shook my head. “It’s okay.” Now that I was face to face with her again, I was remembering that when it came down to it, she was all bark and very little bite.

“You look well, Rachel,” I said with a half-smile, remembering a few choice reviews of her latest film. “Especially considering what some were saying about your last performance. Phrases like, ‘career ending’ and ‘soulless’ come to mind.”

She paused, her eyes flashing angrily like she was about to pounce, but she deflected the blow with a laugh. “Can’t please everyone.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” I said with a shrug.

Her lips curled tauntingly. “You know, even if I never make another film, I’ll be remembered for the award winning ones along with the stinkers. If you dropped off the face of the Earth, you’d just be the overweight secretary that Jacob Whitmore dated that one time.”

“Wow,” I chuckled sarcastically. “Less than five minutes have passed and you’re already calling me fat. I’d say I was surprised, but I’d be lying.”

“Oh you ain’t seen NOTHING yet.”

“This was a mistake,” Jacob ripped in hotly. “If you think I’m going to stand here and let you--”

“It’s okay,” I repeated tightly, not wanting him to fight this battle for me. I couldn’t handle his mother, but I could handle this spoiled celebutante. Hearing her disparage me, trying to make me feel little just proved how insecure she really was. Why else would she waste her seemingly precious time trying to break up my relationship? “We’re not here to trade barbs. I’ll concede right now--you’re far better at being a bitch than I am. Congratulations. We’re here to talk about what you’ve been up to.”

She cocked her head to the side, playing dumb. “You want to know I’ve been up to? Shopping, reading scripts, spa day here and there--”

“Cut the bullshit, Rachel!” Jacob snapped.

Even though Rachel was doing her best Innocent Bystander, she shifted uncomfortably beneath his glare before she brought out the claws. “Are we really talking bull because I have a laundry list. I pay this firm’s astronomical fee and I’ve been relegated to the back burner. My publicist obviously has a full plate, you’re always out of the office--”

“If you are unsatisfied with the Whitmore and Creighton experience, I would be MORE than happy to recommend other firms to better suit your needs,” Jacob said without pause.

“Oh you’d love that wouldn’t you?” she said with a frown. “To get rid of me, pretend that we never happened and I was just some speed bump on the road to Happily Ever After?”

Something in her voice caught me off guard. It was more than petty jealousy or the petulant tantrum of a starlet used to getting everything she wanted. It reminded me of the way her eyes roped him in, lost in a memory when they shared a moment at the press conference. It was the look of someone whose heart was breaking.

“What I would love is your comprehension and acceptance that the past is the past and I want absolutely nothing to do with you,” Jacob said acidly.

I cleared my throat and tried to snuff out the burning questions my own insecurity drummed up. “A-And I’d like it if you stopped lying to Jacob’s mother.”

“Lying?” Rachel snorted. “I’m the only person in this room that’s telling the truth.”

Jacob had enough. “You psychotic--”

“Jacob, let it go,” I hissed, standing between them, knowing a straight line from him to her could be disastrous. From our run-in with his mother, I knew it wouldn't take much to rocket him from simmer to full-on boil. And as much as I just wanted to shake Rachel until her teeth rattled, tough words being exchanged wouldn’t make her see anything. If nothing else, it would just ensure that we just got hoarse yelling back and forth, teeth bared, dangerously close to doing something that would land someone in jail for assault. That wouldn’t solve our problem; it would just create a new mess of them.

So I gave her the audience she obviously needed, despite the tiny voice that reminded me that the last time I attempted to listen to Rachel, it didn’t fix a damn thing. “What do you mean you’re the only one telling the truth?”

She didn’t waste a single moment wondering why I didn’t want to throw her out on her ass. “First off, you’re lying to yourself thinking that he’s not going to get tired of you. That your novelty won’t wear off. You’re not the first spunky chick that’s caught his eye and I would bet every cent I possess that you won’t be his last.”

I was already regretting letting her run off at the mouth. Not because I feared she’d uncovered some deep, dark fear but because it was just the same old song on a different day.

I’d spent precious time wondering if Jacob and I had an expiration date, worrying that at some terrible moment he’d wake up and realize that somewhere out there his perfect match was waiting; someone who rivaled him in the looks department, setting fire to every magazine page or blog that held images of them.

But I didn’t entertain those thoughts anymore because I knew that every time he looked at me it was like he was seeing me for the first time. In his eyes I saw that he couldn't believe how lucky he was. Like he was falling in love all over again. My faults, his faults, and other people’s expectations didn’t stand a chance when face to face with the way he loved me. I’d always have moments when I wondered how the hell I got so lucky--but so did he.

Her truth wasn’t some sagely observation--it was the demented ramblings of a desperate woman. “You were right, Jacob.” I faced him with a sigh. “We never should have seen her.”

Jacob pressed his lips against my forehead and reached for the phone on Claudia’s desk. “I’ll have security escort her to the parking deck.”

I was so frustrated that I’d given her what she wanted yet again. She obviously wouldn’t know the truth if it smacked her upside the head and if I thought she’d be straight up about talking to Alicia or offer some insight as to why she was fixated on us, or one better, apologize, then I was as deluded as she was. I just wanted her gone. I didn’t want one more second wasted on her or her lies.

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