The Bad Boy Billionaire’s Vendetta – an erotic romance
KAYLA KRAMER
Copyright KAYLA KRAMER 2019
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The following eBook is a work of fiction, any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
“So, your Christmas was a bust?”
I take a long, deep sigh. “It was. And yours?”
Selina mutters something dark. “Smashed to bits.”
I hunker down against the wall, one eye on the departure board. “I’ll be home soon.”
“Wait, you’re flying back to San Francisco? Talia, shit, it was that bad that you’ve cut short your one vacation of the year?”
“It went a little something like this,” I sip my black coffee as I adjust my carry-on bag that I was sitting on. The departure lounge was busy and I hadn’t been able to find a seat. “Dad’s new girlfriend caught my dad with his hands all over the housekeeper.”
“Urgh, he is such a pig.” Selina gasps. “Sorry, no offense.”
“Oh none taken.” I laugh. “He is a pig...I just can’t believe I fell for his ‘oh sweetheart, I have changed and I promise to make it the best Christmas ever’ speech.”
“I’m really sorry Talia.”
I eye the board, my flight still wasn’t boarding. “Where are you? And what happened?”
“It a very long story, but basically Jeff and I broke up.”
“Selina, shit...I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be, it was red lining, both of us were trying to make something out of nothing, I can’t believe I just...”
“Selina?” I hear her fight the rising sobs. “Hey, listen to me, when I get back, you and I, we’re going to have a do over of Christmas okay?” I see the screen change and my gate number appears. I get to my feet, tossing my empty cup into the near trash can and reach for my bag. “I’ll see you soon.”
Three days after Christmas, Selina and I are still on the couch watching movies. “We should have planned this all along.” She sighs.
I grab the half eaten bowl of popcorn. “Yeah, we should have.”
She faces me, looking chirpier than when I’d come home and found her sobbing in the living room, clutching one of her ex’s shirt. I’d pried it out of her hands, stuffed it into the closet when she hadn’t been looking and directed her towards her bedroom.
“Has your dad called?” She fast forwards a commercial break.
“He has. But I let it go to voicemail.” I adjust the blanket over my knees, before reaching for my phone that’s beside our Christmas tree to order the pizza we’d promised ourselves for lunch. “I just can’t deal with it.” I absently adjust one of the colourful lights that’s fallen off a branch.
“What about your mom?”
“She’s in London; with her new husband...this isn’t her problem anymore.”
Selina looks over at me, her almond shaped eyes warm and kind. “It’s not yours either.”
I’m just about to dial when I notice a text message from my boss. “Great.”
“What?”
“Someone’s called in sick for a New Year’s Eve party.”
“Bit early isn’t it, they could get better?”
“Andrea says it’s a broken leg and if I can cover.”
Selina groans. “So, you’re going to have to work on New Year’s Eve?”
I scroll through the text. “Shit...it’s $150 for the shift.”
“That’s a good chunk of change.” She smiles sadly.
“Want to see if I can get you in?”
“I can’t waitress and I’m useless in the kitchen.”
I laugh as I start to text Andrea back. “It’s mostly serving drinks to richer than God moguls and making sure they have tiny portions of food in their mouths.”
“I think I’ll stay home.”
I put my cell down. “I’ll pass then, we should stick together.”
Selina lifts my phone, handing it back to me. “You should take it. It’s good money, and besides, we did our Christmas dinner yesterday, why not delay new year’s by a day?”
When New Year’s Eve arrives, I end up having to watch Selina and Jeff fight, then make up in the space of the living room. When I hear the shouts gradually lessen, then Selina’s bedroom door being slammed shut...not followed by the front door opening and closing; I make my deductions...which get nosily confirmed by them hitting the bed about a minute later.
I slip out of the apartment near six PM, making my way to the address that Andrea had texted a few days ago along with strict uniform instructions. Black skirt, must be knee length, white shirt and formal black tie and waistcoat. Mid heel, no higher and hair must be pulled back. Make up light, neutral, nothing over the top.
I take the service elevator some thirty floors to the penthouse level where I’m escorted by security to a make shift station where my bag and cell are swept for anything malicious by suited security officers. I’m only allowed into the property, once I’ve gone through airport style security, which I realise the guests will also have to do when they arrive at eight thirty. I fiddle with my hair that keeps on coming loose; normally Selina would have braided it into an elegant style, but my best friend was thoroughly occupied...and showed no signs of exiting her bedroom this side of the
