The White Billionaire: The Complete Collection (Books 1-4) Read online

  “I plan on hiring Camille,” I say in a matter of fact tone.

  She narrows her eyes at me, “Camille, that girl with the cheap shoes? I don’t think that she will fit in here. What qualifications does she even have to achieve such a position?”

  Amanda is such a little snob but she is good at what she does. Anticipating my needs is something that she’s great at and she has a memory that will rival an elephant. So she fits in great at this office. She looks just like most of the other administrative and personal assistants on the floor. She is white, pretty, and dressed impeccably. I would be lying if I said that her little skirts didn’t make me hard. Some days I’ve wanted to have my way with her but I don’t date a woman after she tells me no. She wanted to sign on as just a personal assistant and I granted her that.

  “She’s qualified because I say that she is, I have a feeling that she can hold her own, and I don’t owe you an explanation.”

  She looks at me with a stunned expression but quickly recovers.

  “I apologize, I didn’t mean to pry. I was just anxious to figure out who my new colleague would be,” she says demurely.

  Her fake meekness makes me chuckle, “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you are jealous.”

  “I have absolutely no reason to be jealous of that girl. I’m the one that decided to keep our relationship limited to personal assisting.”

  “That’s true, but I know that you regret that decision.”

  She scoffs, “Hardly. I enjoy my freedom, and vanilla is my favorite flavor.”

  “Hopefully Camille’s is chocolate and vanilla swirl,” I say as I wiggle my eyebrows.

  “You’re such a freak, but she doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl to cross the racial lines. She seems very ummmmm…urban.”

  “She’s definitely from the urban area but she carries herself with class and dignity. I think that her mannerisms are a part of her charm. Anyway Amanda, it’s getting late. I’m going to the restroom, file those resumes away, and let’s get out of here.” I say, effectively ending the conversation.

  On the drive home, I have Charlotte on my mind.

  She was my last submissive and personal assistant. She quit two weeks ago and walked out of my life forever. She wanted more from me that I could provide her with. She wanted our relationship to go public and she was tired of ‘being my secret’. I really enjoyed Charlotte’s company; she was really sweet, funny, and obedient. But a woman can only take so much before they break. I should have seen the signs earlier. She was becoming increasingly moody over everything, and she needed constant validation. To be quite honest, she was starting to get on my nerves, and she just wasn’t fun anymore. I was surprised when she quit, but I can’t say that I was upset. Relief flooded my body when I read the “I can’t do this anymore” note that she left on my desk. I made sure to give her an excellent bonus and I paid off her car as a parting gift.

  The drive home for me is short. I could take a cab because I live in a penthouse loft in the west loop, but I can’t resist driving my new Maybach 57. I debate calling my younger sister, because she called me yesterday. As the oldest and the only boy, my twin sisters are a thorn in my flesh. I love them but they are a handful. I’m 12 years their senior and their 21st birthday is right around the corner. I don’t know whether to be happy for them or to call in the cavalry. Chloe and Claire are real beauties, every woman and man knows it, and it drives me crazy.

  When I’m finally relaxed with glass of scotch I call my sister Chloe.

  “Hey Kyle,” she says in a tone that I know is reserved for begging, snooping, or both.

  “Wassup Chloe? I saw that I missed your call and I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay.”

  “Everything is fine; Claire and I just wanted to make sure that you still plan on coming to our 21st birthday party.”

  I smile and say, “You both know that I wouldn’t miss that for the world. Now tell me what you two really want.”

  I hear Claire in the background urging Chloe to just come out with it. They bicker for a few more seconds, have a vocal struggle over the phone, and Claire won the battle.

  “Hey Kyle, what Chloe was struggling to ask you is, can we please use your condo in Vegas for a week next month? Pleeeeeeaaasssse, we promise not to trash it,” Claire begged.

  My first instinct is to say hell no. I remember all the debauchery that I indulged in when I was in my 20’s and in Vegas.

  Hell, I remember what I did just last year.

  I’m not sure if I want the two of you running around in Vegas for a week,” I groan. “But I know that I can’t stop you. So yes, you may use it but don’t be surprised if I send someone to check in on the both of you.”

  I had to move the phone away from my face because the two of them squealed so loudly.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” they repeated over and over into the phone.

  “Sooooo,” Chloe said, “Are you bringing a date to our party in two weeks?”

  See, here comes the snooping part. Chloe and Claire have always hounded me about women. They’ve most likely picked up this habit from our mother. All of them want to see me settle down with someone and provide them with grandchildren, nieces, and nephews. However, I’m just not prepared to take that step with anyone yet. It’s my life and so I’ll live it however I see fit. Even though I date a lot of women, I don’t bring them around my family because I don’t want either party getting too attached.

  “Do I ever bring a date?”

  “Well, we were hoping that you would surprise us this year,” Chloe pouted.

  “Sorry to disappoint you sis, you enjoy your night. I’m about to unwind.”

  “Good night,” they both yell through the phone.

  I’m not going to upset myself tonight by thinking of the sin that they have cooked up for Las Vegas. I’m just going to sip my scotch and think about what I’m going to say to Camille when I call her in three days. I’m excited about having her on my staff, but I’m really hoping that she wants to be more than my personal assistant.

  #Chapter4

  “How is a woman supposed to think straight with an American Express card in her hand?” Camille

  **

  Sending in my resume to different places is a little disheartening even though I’m trying to stay positive. The qualifications that they want you to have for the simplest of jobs is absolutely crazy. My stomach has been in knots because every time my phone rings I’m hoping that it’s Kyle calling to offer me the job, hell I don’t even mind if Amanda calls. Just thinking about working in that huge building for that sexy ass white man makes my heart flutter. I’ll come to work early and leave extra late every day just to hang around him. Maybe he’ll fuck me on his desk like I imagined, I bet he’s never had a girl like me.

  My mind has been going along this stream of thought for three days, and I’ve been jumpy and moody. I’m worried about my finances and I’m horny so that job would work out for me in so many ways. I better not get to excited because he’s probably already screwing Amanda. I couldn’t blame either of them if they were having sex. He’s hot and she’s gorgeous, pair that up with some sexual tension, and things are bound to explode. That would make him off limits to me because I don’t deal with sloppy seconds and that would make for one awkward situation.

  I’m not joining anyone’s harem, especially not his.

  The only thing that’s been helping me unwind is the gym so I pack my bag and get ready to head out of the door. My body collides into another that’s directly in front of my door way. I take a step back in surprise and see that it’s Marcus. What the hell is he doing here? I want to push him out the way and just go to the gym. I’m not ready for a complete show down with him and I kind of want to use my boxing lessons on him too. But I decide to play the cordial role.

  “What are you doing here?” I say quickly

  That’s about as cordial as I can get right about now, and I want to slap grin off of his fa
ce.

  “Hey Camille, can I come in?”

  I sigh dramatically as I think about it. Now do I really want to let his ass into my apartment? My curiosity gets the better of me and I stand to the side and tell him to come in.

  “Okay, you’re in. Now what do you want?”

  “Damn girl, you don’t have to be like that. I thought that we were better than that,” he responds in his baritone voice.

  His voice has always been my weakness. When he hit 13 it began to change and I was putty in his hands after that. His deep voice travels from your ear canal and straight to your pleasure center. But I’m not falling for it anymore, especially since he told me in that very voice that he was done with me.

  “Well, I thought that we were better than that too Marcus, but you showed me differently.”

  “Okay,” he says holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just coming by to see if you need anything. I spoke to your mom and she told me that you didn’t have any money. I wanted you to know that I paid her bill for her too. We may not be together but I’m always going to take care of you.”

  “It wasn’t her place to tell you anything about me or my finances. You shouldn’t have paid her bill either. I wouldn’t have paid it even if I did have the money. We can’t take care of her anymore,” I tell him. “I don’t want any of your money because we both know where it comes from. I want my hands clean of all it. I can’t afford to have everything taken away from me because I’m dealing with you.”

  I can tell that my comment hurt him but he tries to save face by laughing.

  “I remember a time when you loved spending my money. Now all of a sudden you’re too good for it. You move all the way out here in the burbs away from all of us ghetto folks. This is exactly why I moved on, because I can’t deal with this shit.”

  His comment feels like its hit me in gut.

  “Don’t get upset with me because I want a better life for myself,” I yell. “The reason you moved on was because you wanted something easy, and Charity is exactly that. You didn’t want to have to change your life. We both agreed when we were young that living that life was temporary for us, a means to an end. You want it to be your life and I don’t want to end up dead or in jail, so you can go fuck yourself.”

  Watching his jaw tighten gives me a level of satisfaction.

  “Look, I didn’t come here to argue with you. I just came to let you know that I’ll hold you down.”

  “Thank you, but I don’t need you to take care of me. I still have enough money to hold me over until I can find a job. I understand that you drove out here to check on me but I think it’s time for you to leave. Please don’t come again without calling and asking me first.”

  He stares at me in silence for a while, and walks past me, and out of the door. I feel stunned because I wasn’t expecting to see him again anytime soon. I always hate fighting with him because I still care for him so deeply. I don’t know if I made the right decision by refusing his money. I would hate to have to call him and ask for help in a few months. I have to keep looking for jobs so that I can continue to take care of myself.

  I pick my bag back up and head for my door again. My phone buzzes and I curse loudly because I just know it’s Marcus calling to say something ridiculous. I look at the number and I don’t recognize it but I know it’s from downtown because of the area code. My hands shake as I try to steady my breathing and answer the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, is Camille Woods available?”

  “This is she.”

  “Great, this is Kyle Kane and I’m calling to discuss the position that you interviewed for on Monday. Is now a good time for you to talk?”

  I drop my bag again and head for my couch.

  “Yes, I can speak freely.”

  “I was extremely impressed with you during your interview. You have the gift of gab and that’s very important in the position that I’m offering. So I will like to offer you the position of being my personal assistant. This is a contract position that lasts for 1 year with the option to renew for a longer period of time if we are a good fit,” he says casually.

  My heart feels like it’s’ going to pound out of my chest as I hear his silky smooth voice through my phone. I go to my desk and prepare myself to ask questions.

  “Wow, I’m very happy to hear that I’ve been chosen for the position. Salary wasn’t something that was discussed during the interview. May I ask how much you’re offering for this position?” I ask in a voice that’s cooler than how I actually feel.

  “Of course, the base salary for this position is $69,000 a year, full health care, medical, dental, and vision. Of course there are quite a few perks as well.”

  I sit on the end of the phone in complete silence. Is this really happening to me? Am I being punked? There is no way that I just landed a job this amazing.

  “Hello? Are you there?” he asks.

  I clear my throat.

  “Yes, I’m here. I welcome the opportunity to be able to work with you Mr. Ka—, I mean Kyle. What is the process?”

  “I need you to come in to complete some paperwork, I’ll have Amanda email you over some documents that you need to take a look at. Can you come in tomorrow?” he asks.

  Is that relief that I hear in his voice? He almost sounds as if he thought I was going to turn down the position. There is no way I’m turning that down even if he’s the boss from hell, I will learn how to cope.

  “Yes, I can come in tomorrow. What time should I arrive?”

  “9 a.m. will be best and I also want to speak with you about another opportunity on the table. You have the right to refuse and there will be no pressure. I must warn you and say that it’s a proposition. If you know off the bat that you won’t want to discuss it, feel free to tell me and I will drop the issue, no questions asked.”

  What the hell is he talking about? I don’t want to jump to conclusions so I ask for him to clarify.

  “What kind of proposition?” I ask.

  “I’m interested in you Camille and I would like the opportunity to get to know you better, but on my terms. I want to reiterate that you have every right to refuse me, and it will have no effect on your personal assisting position,” he says.

  “Ummm okay, I’m interested in hearing what you have in mind,” I say cautiously.

  “I’m glad to hear it, I will see you tomorrow and if you have any questions, call me personally, this is my line.”

  We both say our goodbyes and then hang up. What in the hell have I walked into? Does he expect me to be his personal whore? I have to admit that the idea intrigues me in theory but I’ve never been one to sell sex. How am I supposed to walk into that office tomorrow and look him in the eyes? I was so much more confident when his attraction towards me was unspoken. I’ve always known how to use a man’s attraction towards me to my advantage. I don’t sell sex but I never let them know the possibility is off of the table.

  Most men don’t respect women that they consider to be sluts and they find virgins to be annoying. I’m somewhere right in the middle, because I don’t have a reputation for sleeping around but my sex appeal is off the charts and I love to flirt. I have to admit that I love being the woman that men desire but that they can never have. Because of this, there isn’t much that they won’t provide, all in the hopes of getting into my panties. This is how I got so much information for Marcus.

  Men have spilled all of their secrets and connections while in a simple conversation with me. I know who sells to who, where they get their supply from, who killed who, and much more. That’s a huge reason as to why I wanted to get away from that lifestyle. No one is looking for me because Marcus has always kept me safe but I don’t want anyone to get the idea to either. Knowledge is power and I have a lot of it, and I don’t even want it anymore.

  I finally stand back up, grab my gym bag and head out of the door.

  ***

  Sitting in Kyle’s office again is a surreal experience. I�
�ve completed all of my paperwork and now I’m officially his new personal assistant. It was a hard pill to swallow when I found out that Amanda really is his personal assistant as well. She’s pretty but she’s such a bitch, and she clearly doesn’t care for me. Now, I’m waiting for Kyle to come into the office so that we can talk. My palms are all clammy and my breathing is shallow. He makes me nervous but in a really good way.

  He finally enters the office and closes the door behind him. He looks absolutely amazing, and I take all of him in. He’s wearing an impeccably tailored ensemble. Black slacks, white shirt, grey vest, and camel blazer. Who dresses this man? Because few men would know that an outfit like that could work and I am impressed.

  “Good morning, and welcome to the team,” he says breaking me out of my trance as he closes the massive cherry wood door behind him.

  “Good morning Kyle, and thank you for having me,” I say as I stand to greet him. He gives my clammy hand a shake and kisses me on the cheek.

  “You will have to excuse me, I can be pretty informal. If it ever bothers you please let me know and I will back off.”

  “It’s okay I’m used to it and kisses on the cheek don’t creep me out, I’ve had to deal with worse,” I say honestly.

  He raises his eyebrow at my comment but continues.

  “I’m going to conduct this meeting in a pretty formal fashion because I would like for you to be comfortable and for there to be some space between us. I’ll sit behind the desk and you will remain there. I want to let you know now that, if you accept my offer, there won’t be much space between the both of us again.”

  Oh shit, he’s serious. I watch him intently as he walks behind his desk and sits in his imposing leather chair. I don’t know if this is making me more comfortable or more nervous.

  “I understand, and I’m interested in hearing about what you have in mind.”