Page 1 of Baby For The Bad Boy Billionaire

1

BAILEY

Ipush open the glass door of my office and my body instinctively jumps back.

"Jesus!" I try to catch my breath. "Who are you? And what are you doing in my office?" It's not every morning that a 6 foot 3 man is sitting in the dark, looming around my files.

"Oh, didn't Daddy Dearest tell you?" His fingers flip through the papers, a smirk playing on his perfectly sculpted lips. "I'm training with you for a while. You know, learning the ropes from the company's star performer." His voice is dripping with sarcasm as he stands up and walks toward me. He extends his hand in a gesture so nonchalant it would be annoying if it wasn't so charming.

"Logan... Logan Atwood."

I stare at his outstretched hand, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a handshake.

"You're Atwood's son?"

He confirms with a nod, enjoying the shock on my face. "That's right, Bailey. I'm the boss's son. Looks like we'll be getting to know each other very well."

This can't be happening.

I go silent.

I've heard the rumors. Logan Atwood, the notorious playboy, known to parade around with all the stunning women in Chicago. His name is painted around the city in bold strokes of scandal and sin. A bad boy with charm and game so potent it is poisonous.

Recently, a particularly juicy piece of gossip had made its way down the grapevine. Logan was seen with none other than the international supermodel, Gina Sandoval. The two of them were spotted on the rooftop of the Bellafonte Hotel, right in the heart of Chicago.

The real scandal was that Gina was the ex-girlfriend of Logan's estranged brother, Ethan Atwood, Chicago's top trial attorney. The entire city was buzzing from the audacity of it all. Logan Atwood, the city's hottest playboy, not just flaunting his latest conquest, but this time, he was with his brother's ex-girlfriend. It was a scandal that had rocked the city of Chicago, adding a new layer to the infamous reputation of Logan Atwood.

I twist my lips into a tight smile, holding my breath as I keep my eyes locked on his.

Arrogant. Egotistical. Presumptuous.

Probably a narcissist too.

Good thing arrogant, rich playboys arenotmy type.

I, Bailey Thompson, don't do chaos. I prefer the quiet. Stability. Calm.

But damn do those deep dark eyes pull me in.

Bailey. He's not your type. Remember?

Right.

Not my type.

He's everything I've never looked for in a man. Spontaneous where I am meticulous. Reckless where I am cautious.

I keep my eyes locked with his.

But he reads my vulnerability.

"Relax, Bailey. I'm not here to steal your job."

His comment triggers something inside me and the heat rises in my cheeks.

I'm one step away from getting the promotion of my dreams. The promotion I've been working my ass off for. The promotion I’ve spent 5 years on. And the thought of losing it makes my blood boil.

I've spent so many sleepless nights in this office, pouring over spreadsheets and strategizing ways to take our company to new heights. This promotion is my reward, the validation of my efforts. It is my stepping stone to shattering the glass ceiling, not just for me, but for all the ambitious women who came from nothing like me.

---