Under (Follow Me #5) Read Online Helen Hardt

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Follow Me Series by Helen Hardt
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Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 78521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
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“Don’t push me, Addison.”

She laughs. “You and I both know you won’t call a cop because you and I both know exactly how things stand, Braden.”

“You and I both also know that we’re through.”

“Relax.” She smiles. “I’m not here to try to seduce you.”

Right. She could try all she wants. It would never happen.

“What do you want, then? I’m busy, as I’ve said.”

She walks into my office and closes the door behind her.

“Leave that open,” I say.

“Why? Afraid you can’t control yourself?”

“For Christ’s sake.” I rise, walk to the door, and open it myself.

Because I don’t work here at the New York office full-time, I don’t have a full-time assistant or secretary here. One of the floaters fills in when I need someone, and apparently Jill, today’s assistant, has left her desk for a moment.

Great timing. She might be fired as well.

“Goodbye,” I say, holding the door.

“I think you’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”

“I think you overestimate how much I care about anything you have to say.”

“Fine.” She turns. “But it has to do with your new girlfriend.”

I roll my eyes. Classic Addison.

“I already know you’re out to get her, Addie. You’re clearly keeping tabs on her, and you somehow got that hot-air balloon company to hire you instead of her. Big fucking deal. She has much bigger things in the works.”

“Right.” Addison chuckles. “She’s going to be the new face of drugstore cosmetics.”

I raise an eyebrow.

What the hell is Addison talking about?

“Susanne Cosmetics is still working with me, Braden,” Addie continues. “They know where their bread is buttered.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” I say, “and I care even less. Goodbye.”

She huffs.

“Oh, and don’t think it hasn’t escaped my attention that you’re dressed exactly the same way as Skye today. Stalk much?”

Her cheeks redden.

Gotcha.

“Do you think I give a shit about Skye Manning?” she says with another huff.

“Yeah, I think you give several shits about Skye. Otherwise, why would you even be here? You’re so transparent.”

“She’ll never be me.”

“Then that’s a point very much in her favor.” I consider mentioning that copying Skye’s outfit means she’s the one doing the emulating, but I choose to keep that to myself. I peek out the door.

Jill has returned to her desk.

“Jill, could you please see Ms. Ames out?”

Jill stands, her eyes wide. “Oh! Mr. Black, I didn’t know you had a visitor.”

“I shouldn’t have a visitor,” I say. “Ms. Ames is leaving.”

I don’t touch Addison.

Simply give her a look.

The look.

She remembers the look.

She turns her gaze to the ground and leaves my office.

Some things never change.

Chapter Thirty-One

I choose not to tell Skye about Addison’s visit. If she asks me straight-out, I’ll be honest, but it will only upset her, and I see no reason to do that on such a big day for her. I believe in honesty, truly. But it’s the same as when Tessa called me to tell me about Heather Thomas and Crystal’s Closet. Had Skye asked me straight-out, I’d have told her. But why upset her when it’s something I had no control over?

“I know I said we’d have dinner in tonight,” I say, “but I just remembered that Eugenie wanted to have dinner with us while we’re here. So where are we going?”

“I don’t know. Eugenie didn’t say anything.”

“That’s odd, since she made it a point to call me and ask me about restaurants.”

Skye simply shrugs.

I’m perusing Skye’s prospectus, and I find that Addie was correct. They’re asking Skye to post about a new line of discounted cosmetics. However, I find it to be an interesting proposal. I have no problem with discounts. Hell, I grew up poor, which is why I still support the food bank that my mother use to frequent. Discounts are a good thing, and there are a heck of a lot more people who look for discount products than who shop for high-end cosmetics—something Addison wouldn’t think about.

Skye, though? She’ll appreciate that fact, as I do.

“It’s a good deal,” I tell her, closing the prospectus. “You already get about ten thousand likes now, which will earn you a hundred per post. Three posts a week to start—that’s three hundred plus the four grand they pay you per week under the contract. Add in the extra for comments and sales… Plus the number of likes and comments will go up as you gain more of a following.”

“It’s a drugstore line of cosmetics, Braden.”

Okay. Maybe she won’t appreciate the discount aspect.

“So what?”

“They want people like Addie for their luxury line.”

“Who cares why they want Addie? She’s not your concern.”

“It’s like Addie’s the Dom Pérignon and I’m the André Cold Duck.”

I laugh. “Maybe a more apt metaphor would be that Addie’s the Pappy Van Winkle’s fifteen year and you’re the Wild Turkey?”

She smiles. “When you put it that way…”


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