Page 16 of The Billionaire and I

Greta straightened her shoulders and sniffed. “I beg your pardon. We are not keeping tabs on you.”

“Really?” Cole arched an eyebrow. “How about last week when you called the police because I had a few friends on my roof deck?”

Florence’s nostrils flared. “You were having a party and blasting your music atthree a.m.on aweeknight.The responsible, hard-working people in this building deserve better than that!”

“First of all, it was Friday night,” Cole corrected her. “Second of all, you two are trust-fund babies who’ve never worked a day in your life. So I’m not sure what you’re crying about.”

Greta’s jaw dropped. “How dare you!”

“You called the cops on me at three a.m. I own the penthouse and the rooftop deck and pay triple the HOA fees that you do. It’s my property, and I intend to enjoy it—as I’m legally entitled to. So how dareyou.”

Any icy silence descended on our little group. The sisters looked furious.

Cole’s smile became genuine. “Ladies, I understand. You’re jealous that I have friends, a hot girlfriend, and also that my apartment cost nine million dollars and yours only cost six. Sosince you are so decent, and hard-working, and unhappy, I have advice for you:go someplace else.”

He swept me past them into the elevator. “See you around, ladies. Or, hopefully, not.”

Florence’s lips were pinched into a white line of fury. “I cannot believe how rude you are!”

I grinned at them as the door closed shut.

“Right back atcha!” I called.

CHAPTER 11

Jenny

Greta and Florence looked outraged.“We’re going to get you thrown out of here, Cole Bryson! If it’s the last thing we do?—”

Luckily, the elevator doors closed, sparing us from the rest of the Windsor sisters’ tirade.

I turned to Cole. “I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

“Oh no. Youdefinitelyshould have said that. They deserve it—they’re notorious for complaining about everybody in the building.”

“What’s their problem?” I asked.

“They’re rich, bored, and think they’re better than everyone else.” He shrugged. “They’re pissed that I don’t invite them to my parties—I have professional athletes over all the time, including Chase Layne, the New England quarterback. The Windsorslovehim. So they’re mad I don’t include them in my reindeer games.”

“Your reindeer games?” I laughed.

“You know what I mean. They’re bitter. So they’re always trying to get me, and everybody else in the building who has a life, thrown out.” He shrugged again. “They’re probably interrogating poor Amari right now, asking questions about you.”

“Good thing we didn’t tell him the truth—’cause they’d be calling the cops on you again.” I fluffed my hair as the elevator silently ascended.

“Those sisters need to get a life.” Cole frowned. “They serve on every charitable board in the city, so you’d think they have a decent bone or two in their body. That’s not the case.”

“People don’t show the world their real face,” I said. “Look at the internet. You think any of those pictures are real? Nah. It’s all fake.”

He watched me carefully. “You’re not fake.”

“Yeah, but Iaman escort. So you might want to watch your back with those mean neighbor ladies.” I frowned. “If they find out about me, it could be a real problem.”

Cole shook his head. “We don’t need to worry about the Windsor sisters. They can’t find out about you. It’s our secret, remember?”

I nodded, then promptly forgot about the mean sisters, being an escort, how handsome Cole was, and everything else because the doors opened to the penthouse suite, and I was too stunned to think. The sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, glinting off Cole’s spectacular home. It looked like a movie set. The floors were rough-hewn wood; the couches were leather; the ceilings were vaulted, and a fire magically roared in the fireplace. Everywhere, framing the pristine space, was the glorious view of the Boston Harbor.

I took in a deep breath as if I could inhale the niceness of the place—as if it could cure me of poverty. The penthouse suite was likemagic. It was likemoney. If money had a human form, it would be Cole—tall, dark, and handsome. If money were a home, it would be his penthouse suite. The energy of wealth radiated throughout the space. If my plants moved in here, they would probably grow into a jungle or something.

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