Page 19 of Billionaire Grump's Baby

It feels like a date.

“That day at lunch. Sarah said you needed this project,” Luke says. His eyes are sharp, evaluating. “What did she mean?”

I toy with my necklace, feeling uncomfortably exposed under his gaze. The last thing I want to do is tell this cutthroat, sarcastic man that absolutely no one wanted my first novel. So I give him a half truth. “Some of us need to work for a living. And the magazine I was working for closed.”

“Bull. If you’re as good as Cooper says, you could get a job somewhere else. Why do youneedme, Hazel?” Luke presses. He’s not going to let me get away with dodging the question.

“I’m the one doing the interviewing,” I remind him.

“I’m your boss,” he counters. His voice drops, low and commanding in a way that slides across my skin. “Come on, Hazel. Give me what I want.”

The last thing I want to do is give him more information about my private life to wield over me, but he’s right about two things. He’s the boss. And I need this project to be a success.

Still, I try one last dodge. “Why could you possibly care about the details of my life?”

His eyes rake me up and down, in a way that makes me very aware of my body. “Idle curiosity,” he says at last, which isn’t actually an answer.

This is the difference between writing for someone’s autobiography and magazine writing, I realize. The people I interviewed before had no real power over me. The worst thing that happened was that I filed a boring story and moved on to my next interview subject. With Luke it’s different. He could fire me. Or he could freeze me out, so that I can’t write an interesting book. And if I write a dud of a book that no one buys, my opportunity to improve my reputation with editors and publishers goes up in smoke.

I need him, even when he’s being arrogant and demanding.

He waits, knowing I have no choice but to answer him.

I raise my chin, refusing to let him know he’s getting to me. “I wrote a novel. I thought, when the magazine folded, maybe it was a sign to shift my focus to becoming a fiction writer. But nobody wanted it.”

His mouth tightens, almost imperceptibly. Like he doesn’t like that answer.

Well, fuck you, I think.If I can handle being rejected over and over again, you can handle having a writer someone else rejected.

I stab my fork into my food with unnecessary violence. “Working for you gives me the financial security to write my next book. Plus, working on a high-profile project like this, especially given your insanely fast timeline, gives me the opportunity to impress important publishing people.”

“Who rejected you?” Luke asks, and there’s something dark in his voice.

What’s his problem?I think. Does he get off on knowing the details of other people’s humiliations?

“Never mind,” Luke says. “I’ll find out from Sarah.”

I grit my teeth. Unfortunately, Sarah probably will tell him if it keeps him using me as a writer.

Luke sips his beer. He’s on his second glass. “What was your book about?”

Oh, no. He will give mewaytoo much crap if he finds out the plot of my book. “That’s none of your business.”

“Why would it be none of my business...” Luke’s face lights up with sudden glee. “Hazel. Did you write a dirty book?”

“No,” I say, flushing. “I mean, there’s a sex scene or two. But it’s very artistic.”

“Sure, sweetheart,” he winks. “Your fantasies are safe with me.”

“They’re not...That’snotwhy I didn’t want to tell you,” I snap, and then immediately want to slap a hand over my mouth.

Because his eyebrows snap up. He leans in, a bloodhound going in for the kill. “Then what’s it about?”

With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I realize there’s no way I’m getting out of this with my dignity intact.

“Hazel, who signs your paychecks?” Luke says, and there’s that commanding tone in his voice again. The one thatdoesthings to me.

“You,” I say, feeling cornered and helpless.

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