Sleeping With The Billionaire - A Standalone Royal Alpha Billionaire Prince Romance (New York City Billionaires - Book #2)
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“Look,” he sighed impatiently at me. “I can take a number from you, and I can give Roy your message, but I can’t guarantee that he will want to talk to you.”
As I reeled off my number, it became clear to me that this story was going to be harder to get than I first imagined and it was going to take all of my journalistic skills to get it. I was going to have to think outside the box and take a different approach, but if I was able to pull it off, it would all be totally worth it. I was going to have to do more to get to Roy. I just needed to work out what…
***
The only problem was by the time I finished work, I was still no better off, so I headed over to the Hangout to see Hailey. Maybe she would be able to see things from a better point of view – maybe she would have some ideas I hadn’t thought of just yet.
I grinned and greeted the guy at the reception desk before making my way to the office in the back. The games rooms were all really open and inviting, but the offices where all the serious stuff goes on were behind closed doors, and walking through the place made me feel intrusive. I knew that there were some really troubled kids here who were going through so much, and I felt guilty for encroaching on their space.
Of course, Hailey never saw it that way. She wanted the kids to have their privacy, but she also wanted it to be a welcoming place.
“Hey!” she called out happily as she saw me. “Come in.” She was sitting with a young girl, but she didn’t seem to mind me joining her at all. “Now what is going on? I get a panicky text from you that you might have something good, but that you’re confused – what’s going on? Honestly, you’re worse than some of the kids we have in here,” she teased, making me smile despite all of the stress that was circulating within me.
“I have a chance to speak to someone who is apparently known for not speaking to people, but I don’t know how to get to him. I don’t even think the story will be that interesting, to be honest, but I just think that if I get this man to open up, it’ll prove that I can do it, you know?”
“Oh yeah? And, how do you plan to do that?” she winked suggestively, making me roll my eyes. Some women might be okay with selling their bodies to help progress their careers, but I was definitely not. I was willing to do a lot to get to where I need to be, but never that. “Do you have any ideas?”
“Well, I was hoping you might be able to help me, actually. I thought you might have some ideas.”
“Who is he? Do I know him?”
“Well, I haven’t ever heard of him,” I admitted. “But apparently he’s well known around these parts. Roy Larkin; he deals in oil.”
“I do know him,” she exclaimed excitedly. “But yeah, he is difficult to get hold of – he’s pretty famous for being really shut off and elusive, not letting anyone on his land or anything. Apparently, some people were really shit to him when he first got his money, so now he barely speaks to anyone.”
“So what can I do?” I gasped out exasperatedly. “How can I get him to talk?”
“He lives on the ranch on the outskirts of the town, the massive one out east. Do you know where I mean?” I nodded, sort of recalling. “But it’s difficult to get in. It might be better than calling him, anyway.”
“Fuck…yeah,” I panted in happiness, glad to have something, but then my eyes glanced towards the small girl sitting beside us. “I mean, heck yeah. That’s awesome. I mean, it’s much better than nothing.”
I felt like speaking to Roy in person was definitely the way to move forward. I might not have wanted to sleep with him to get the story, but I could dress to flash my best features – in particular, my ass – to help soften him up a little bit.
I couldn’t get any idea of what this man was like over the phone, but face to face I could discover more about what made him tick. Part of the reason that I wanted to be a journalist in the first place was that I felt like I was a good judge of character – except when it came to love, apparently. I thought I could use that to my advantage, to help improve the world, and to be honest, this was the first chance I was going to get to actually show that, to prove myself and my worth.
“This is going to be good for you,” Hailey smiled at me, sharing in my joy. “You were just saying that you needed a good story, and I think this will be the right one for you. I’m certain you’ll find the right way to present this, and once you do, things will change for you.”
I wasn’t sure about that, but I couldn’t help but agree in some small way. “I think this will be a good start,” I replied diplomatically. “I think this will get me on the right road, anyway.”
Sure, it wasn’t a horrific gruesome crime or twins learning to walk for the very first time, but if I did it right, it would be amazing. I would make it interesting, informative, entertaining – all the things that made for a stand out piece, the sort that I would be proud to have my name next to.
Now, I just needed to decide the kind of piece that I wanted to do and the tactics I would use to make myself more approachable. A lot of people had the impression that journalists were despicable with no morals, which of course made it much harder for the rest of us, but I was up for the challenge, I could do it.
I had to!
I wasn’t sure when another chance like this was going to come my way, and I didn’t want to throw it away.
Chapter Five
Roy – Wednesday
“Look at that, Tank,” I grinned to my dog whilst we watched the television together. “Lewis is doing one hell of a job with the company.” I didn’t understand much about the stock market, but I understood enough to know that things were on the up. That was why he was the perfect choice: he seemed to have a magical way of just making things happen, whereas I could never have done that. I might have had the smarts to invest wisely in the first place, but that was the extent of it.
Tank barked at me in response before making his way towards the door, letting me know he needed to go outside. He knew my routine well now, just like I knew his, and this was basically his way of telling me that I was supposed to be out at work. I’d done all the tending to the crops earlier this morning, but I did need to get that fence done.
As I stepped out into the warmth, I remembered what this place used to be like when I was a child. Sure, we didn’t have a lot of money back then, but things were much more bustling than now. My parents kept animals of all sorts, which had made it a much more exciting place. I didn’t need any of that because I made my money in other ways, but every now and again, I got a glimpse of the way things could have been.
I lost my mom when I was only seventeen years old. She had been out with a friend in the town, and she was hit by a drunk driver, killing her almost instantly. It was a massive deal at the time, in such a small place, and put me right in the center of attention.
After that, things became a little strained between me and my dad, and he started to drink heavily. Eventually, he got sick, and because he’d already given up on life when he’d lost his love, it didn’t take long for the liver failure to claim his life. That was all that I could remember about him these days: the drunk, the sick guy, the man who didn’t know how to be happy, but of course, he had a whole life before that. I just wished that I could have known that version of him better – it might have made me a completely different person.
Shaking all thoughts of the past from my mind before they consumed me entirely, distracting me yet again, I set about working.
I started in the tractor, pulling up some of the old fence posts and leaving them on the back side of my property. Then I clipped the old barbwire in sections, so that I could still have some fence along the edge of the property, even if it was old and not doing much for keeping things out. I just felt like there was something sentimental about it all. I didn’t want to completely give up the old fence just yet, however stupid that was.
***
By the time midday came around, I was absolutely starving. I already knew that I didn’t have anything decent to eat in the house, s
o I hopped into the truck with Tank by my side and headed down to the local café to grab something to eat. I knew that there was a chance I could see some people there who might know me and that might want to talk, but I could always grab the local newspaper and pretend to read if it came down to it.
I took the short drive into the center of town, then stepped inside the café, my stomach growling for something to eat. It seemed like I’d neglected myself and my needs as I worked hard, leaving me almost dizzy with dehydration and hunger.
“Right, Tank, where shall we sit?” I muttered to my dog out of habit, but before I could find a nice empty table to sit at, I could already see him sniffing around someone that we both knew very well, someone that I hadn't seen for a very long time: Joe Cooke, one of my dad’s old friends, back from the “good old days” before his demons took control of him.
“Hi, Joe,” I muttered, almost shyly as he fussed over Tank. “How are you?”
“I’m good, my boy.” He shot me a grin, one that made me feel more welcome than I’d been feeling before. “How are you? Long time, no see.”
I happily sat with him when he indicated. This was someone I would enjoy the company of, especially if he started to talk about my dad, which he always did. He reminded me of the good man that he was before my mom died.
“Oh, you know,” I smiled thinly. “Been busy; you know how it is.” I couldn’t tell him that I just didn’t trust myself to be around anyone anymore, I didn’t want to make a bigger deal out of it than it already was.
“Just like your dad, you, he was always busy as well.” The word before hung in the air above us, not needing to be said aloud. “But then, he had animals to tend to. From what I understand, your success comes from further afield.”
Luckily, at that moment, before I felt compelled to explain myself, the waitress came over to take our order, taking us out from what could potentially be a very awkward conversation. By the time we got back to talking, Joe was in full reminiscent mode, having recalled a story about my dad.
“I remember one night, when we’d been hanging about at the bar all evening, we decided to steal the road sign to Butt Lane. I know, that sounds so immature now, but when we were nineteen and very tanked up, it seemed like something that would be hilarious.” I could not envision this version of my dad, however hard I tried, but I liked to hear about it all the same. “Actually, if I remember rightly…” Joe paused thoughtfully for a second, forcing me onto the edge of my seat. “Yep, I’m pretty sure that’s the night he met your mother.”
Our food was brought over, but that wasn’t going to derail me this time. I had never heard the story of how my parents met because when Mom was alive, I never thought to ask, and after she was gone, I didn’t dare – but now, I could actually learn something of the truth.
“That’s the night Mom and Dad met?” I asked, trying to keep the tension from my voice. For some reason, it felt imperative to keep the desperation from my tone. “I never heard that story.”
“Oh well, I’ll tell you now,” he replied, much to my relief. “Your dad was up on the pole, trying to tear the sign down, when this gorgeous, sassy girl came over and yelled at us. Told us that was the street she lived on, and that if we were so immature as to find that funny, then maybe we deserved to be locked up for the night.”
I could see it. Mom was always a character, saying what everyone else was thinking. I found it strange that I could remember her before she died, but I didn’t have any before memories of my dad. Maybe my brain had blocked him out.
“Your dad slid down, bold as brass while the rest of us were bricking it, and he told her that she needed to go on a date with him. Of course, she scoffed and told him no, but he told her that he wouldn’t give up. He said that he would wait under that sign every single night at eight p.m., until she came around and agreed to go out with him.”
He started eating, as if the story was done, which had me at almost breaking point. This had to be the most romantic real-life story that I’d ever heard, and it related to my parents. I absolutely had to know the ending. “And, did he?”
“Well, I know he did for the first few nights because we went along to tease him, but we soon got bored. He must have, though, because before we knew it, they were engaged. Knowing your dad, and the way that he felt about her, he probably proposed on their very first date.”
His words had my heart thumping in my chest. A whirlwind romance that ended up lasting forever more…until they both passed, anyway. No wonder Dad couldn’t cope after she died – everything that he did was for her. It reminded me of another story, one that I really didn’t want to think about…
“I’m sure you wooed Shelley like that, too,” Joe continued, dragging it back up however much I didn’t want to talk about it. “I mean, your wedding was fantastic. It’s just a shame the way that things turned out.”
Bile rose from my stomach, and I feared I might throw up if I even attempted to talk, so I simply nodded quickly and kept my mouth zipped tightly shut. I couldn’t talk about Shelley and our short-lived marriage, and I wasn’t sure if there would ever come a time when I could. It was just too painful, and it didn’t seem to get any easier.
By the time lunch ended, and I was sitting in the truck preparing to drive home, my breaths were coming out short and ragged. The memory of Shelley was making me sick, and I knew for a fact that my plans for the rest of the day were already shot. I couldn’t get any more work done while my mind was all over the place, thinking about things that it really couldn’t deal with. I needed some rest and a distraction, and there was only one way I was going to get that.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I warned Tank. “I just need someone to take my mind off of things.” But he continued to give me warning glances all the same.
I didn’t normally call Crystal, I let her come to me, but I felt like I needed to or this feeling would continue, sinking me lower and lower into depression. “Just stop it,” I snapped at my dog like a crazy person. “She knows what this is; there aren’t any feelings involved, so it’s fine. It’s fine.”
Ring, ring…
Ring, ring…
As a panic set in while I started to consider the possibility that she might not answer the phone, I realized that it might not have been quite so okay after all and that maybe I was using Crystal as more of a crutch than I first realized. When I lost Shelley, she made one thing perfectly clear to me: that I had to move on from her and find happiness again, and I promised her that I would. I wasn’t sure that hanging out alone with only Tank for company and occasionally some chick to screw was what she had in mind…
“Hello? Roy? Are you okay?”
But as Crystal answered the phone and relief flooded through me, I realized it was the best I could have hoped for. After all, no woman would want such a damaged man long term – they would have to be absolutely crazy.
“Crystal, I need you. Can you come over?”
She could tell that I was desperate; it was obvious in my voice. “I can come over until Bryan finishes school. I will see you in five.”
At least I didn’t have to be alone; at least I could have some company for the next few hours. It wouldn’t ever be enough, but it would have to do.
Chapter Six
June –Wednesday
I am going to get the interview with Roy today, no matter what happens, I thought to myself as I glanced at my reflection in the mirror.
I had been up thinking about my strategy for most of the night, and I decided to make myself look as fancy as possible to try and fit in with his rich, fancy ways. It was practically the first thing they taught you at journalism school, to make the people you were speaking to feel like you fit in with them. The second they assumed they were above you, the harder it was to get information out of them.
I just hoped that I could pull it off. “Rich girl” wasn’t exactly a look I was familiar with. For someone who was most comfortable in skinny jeans and funky tee shirts, this retro,
fifties-style, red dress felt a little awkward on me. I didn’t have anything designer, so this was the closest thing that I had. It had belonged to one of the girls I went to college with. She gave it to me as we were all packing up to leave, telling me that she thought it would suit me, and for some reason, I still had it.
It did fit around my curves well, and if I could just relax, I would probably have looked okay, but I just couldn’t quite seem to manage it. I’d also tied my hair up into a complicated chignon, which was making me feel a bit awkward, too…but I had to do it. It was all for the cause, and I was determined to come back successful. I really needed to.
“Okay,” I muttered to myself in the mirror, trying to calm down my racing heart. “Just forget what you’re wearing and get out there. Talk to this man; he can’t be that scary. Get what you need and write a damn kick ass article.” But for some reason, my pep talk wasn’t quite working. I still felt a little anxious, like I didn’t have quite have it in me.
Still, at least I knew where this man lived now…that was proactive and a step in the right direction. It was better than sitting in the office on the phone at any rate. That wouldn’t get me anywhere. If this man was determined not to speak to the press, then he would never, ever chat on the phone however many times I tried. This really was the only way.
I stepped into my car, trying to ignore the self doubt coursing through my body, and I tried to focus on the task at hand instead. I wasn’t sure quite what I was going to do, only that it wouldn’t be a straightforward profile. I needed to create something that made a massive impact to make my article stand out. I wouldn’t be able to decide on how to tackle it until I spent some time with him. I hoped I would get a feel for him and his lifestyle and something would become obvious.