Page 24 of The Mogul: Leonard

“Do you want to move out?” she asks, following my line of sight.

I turn toward her. “I’m twenty-five, and I live with a bunch of kids who play video games all day. What do you think?”

She chuckles. “Yeah, I get it.”

“But I don’t have the money. It’s just a dream for now.” I point out.

She grins “He could solve your problems with that.” She nods toward a stand where my face stands out on the cover of the magazine—the same one Spike showed me this morning.

I grimace. “Don’t remind me,” I plead.

Leonard is so gorgeous in that picture I can’t keep my eyes away.

“Do you like him?” Her tone is serious.

I don’t know if Candy and I are friends. We talk about everything, and we don’t have secrets, but we rarely talk about our feelings. I guess this morning is an exception.

“He’s objectively gorgeous and has a sex appeal I can’t deny. I mean, it’s clear how I look at him in that picture. It’s obvious to anyone.”

“But?”

We start to walk again, away from that sexy as-sin face that distracts me.

“But as Spike put it, he’s the enemy. He stands for everything I hate and I can’t get over it. Not even for a gorgeous face like his.”

“Why? Because he’s rich?” She frowns.

From the moment I met Leonard Walton, I knew there was something about him I couldn’t stand. It’s difficult to explain why I feel this way about him.

“He’s the kind of person who keeps launching new ventures, not out of passion, but because he’s insatiable for more wealth. His greed knows no bounds. Not even the lives of his employees are spared,” I vent, my words dripping with contempt.

“One of his companies was voted the best place to work last year,” she points out something I already knew, but it only fueled my anger when I discovered it.

“By who? Him and his cronies?”

She stifles a laugh. “He comes from a typical family. His parents aren’t wealthy. He did it all himself.”

“And he forgot where he comes from,” I mumble.

“Jesus, sounds like you hate his guts.”

I chuckle. “And you seem to like him. Do you want me to put in a good word for you?”

“No! Please. I already have one delusional crush. I don’t need a second one. He is sexy, though.”

I grin at her. “Yes, he is.”

“How it was dancing with him?” she asks dreamily.

I look back on our dance and can’t shake the feeling in my gut. I’ve never felt so good in a man’s arms.

“I felt protected. Like I was the sexiest woman on the earth,” I reluctantly admit.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be with him? Even though it’s just a fantasy, it’s fun to imagine.” She is serious.

“Probably spoiled in every sense. In and out of bed.”

And the feeling of his lips on yours would be something you remember for years, even if you had just a taste. Even if you regret it, you will want more of him, and you will make a fool of yourself to have another bit of him. But I won’t tell her that. She’s having a fantasy and it’s not my intention to spoil it.

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