A Billionaire's Mistake

3|Muggles

"I don't want to fuck him," I tell her. "However, I'm not blind."

I could lie straight through my teeth and say that Lincoln wasn't sculpted from the gods themselves, but there's a reason he's such a dick. Research came in handy before I met him for our disastrous meeting, so I knew what he looked like prior to seeing him, but it was July in the city, and he was sweating in his suit and a piece of his hair that was supposed to be slicked back had come un-done and was flopped onto his forehead in the sexiest way possible, the strands as black as midnight. There seemed to be so much mystery to Lincoln Nash, and yet...so much arrogance. How disappointing.

"Can I buy you ladies a drink?" A man asks as he approaches our table. His smile is welcoming, his build lean, but his eyes are focused solely on me.

"We're okay, thanks," I say, my tone clipped.

He places a large hand on the table of our booth, leaning close to my face until I can smell the whiskey radiating from his breath. I almost gag. "Oh, come on, darlin', you don't want to pay for drinks, do you? Let me buy some."

Carmen clicks her tongue, already knowing what's coming as my eyes narrow into his. If there's one thing I hate more than anything, it's for a man to think he can be some Prince Charming and come sweep me off my feet. I worked my ass off to make sure I'm my own Prince Charming. I don't need any man, and I never will.

"I could buy this entire bar if I wanted to," I say lowly into his ear. "It'd be a good investment, and it's probably profitable, but right now, I'm choosing to have a night out with my best friends, and that doesn't include men with bad breath. Now kindly go away before you see a side of me I assure you don't want to."

With a scoff, he stalks off towards his friends shooting pool, grumbling cuss words along the way. "He had it coming," Carmen says with a shrug. Her dark skin is gleaming under the lights of this bar, the brown in her eyes twinkling from my bitchy comment. She loves when I get sassy.

Shy and tentative Rylie continues to hold her eyes wide as she sips her wine. She hates conflicts of any kind, and if given the opportunity, she'd choose to hide somewhere in the dark until it's over. Despite not having a backbone though, she's our voice of reason. The calming nature Carmen and I always need. Without her, our trio would burn to the ground.

"Example A of why I won't fuck Lincoln Nash or any man for that matter," I tell them, "I'm not ready, and I'm still learning how to be...alone, without Reed. The townhome feels so...empty, still. Although I know I'm going to be just fine on my own, it still feels weird."

Rylie reaches a tiny hand of hers across the table to squeeze gently onto mine. "You're allowed to have that time to heal," she reassures. "I think it's wise to hold off for a while. Maybe try to get out of the house more, you know? Go to the library and read a book, do some yoga, literally anything other than work. You work yourself to the bone."

Carmen places her hand on top of both of ours, "I second this, but, if you're needing to let off some steam and use Lincoln Nash's dick to do so, I won't object."

At this, we all burst out into laughter.

***

After my little comment about how lonely it felt in my townhome, Rylie and Carmen refused to let me sleep alone tonight. We shared one of my cars back to my house nestled in the heart of the Upper East Side. It's a three-story building wrapped in ivy and brick, a black fence wrapped around the property to seal it in. I fell in love with this place the moment I saw it. It reminded me of Venice when I visited there years ago. Maybe it's time I make a trip back.

"Thank you," I tell TJ, my driver, sending him a warm smile, "I'll see you in the morning."

"Of course, Ms. Stone, have a good night."

The three of us truck through the gate and up the steps, Rylie swaying slightly from having too many glasses of wine. I'm not sure how her tiny body handled all four glasses. She's only five-four, a good four inches shorter than me, and yet she threw the wine back like she was a linebacker on a football team.

We take the elevator up to the third floor where my bedroom is, a huge bay window overlooking the city. The twinkling lights dance in the distance, but I can't linger my gaze any longer before Carmen cusses and jumps about twenty feet in the air. Muggles, my tabby cat, hisses towards the both of them and scurries off from being so skittish.

"I hate your cat," Carmen grumbles, slipping off her heels to toss on the wooden floor. "He's the absolute worst."

"He's truly not like this when you both aren't around. Don't be offended, though. He's mean to everyone aside from me." It's true. Muggles doesn't cuddle or purr with anyone but me, and when others are around, he acts like an entirely different cat.

I head into the bathroom to take my makeup off and do my skincare routine as Rylie and Carmen talk about upcoming arrangements and deliveries that are due tomorrow at the shop, but just as I'm about to grab my moisturizer, my heart catches when I see Reed's contact case sitting idly in my basket. He must have left it here, and I'm not sure why I'm just now noticing it.

It's dusty from the three months it hasn't been touched. I clutch it in my hands and let out a deep breath, attempting to shove the pain that I'm feeling somewhere else but my heart. I can't take much more of these reminders, especially when I see him every fucking day at the office. He was my assistant before he got promoted to running the AD campaigns, and when he broke off the engagement to choose someone else, he knew I couldn't fire him. It'd be a lawsuit waiting to happen. A part of me wonders if he just used me the entire time to move up in my company, only to throw me to the side the second he got the position he wanted.

And I'm not sure if I'll be able to trust anyone ever again because of it.

Suddenly, my phone vibrates on the sink, an email from Lincoln Nash.

From: Lnash@nashhotels.com

Subject: Professional

Ms. Stone,

Despite our conversation this afternoon, I assure you that I'm not working with you for any other reason except to gain your help and insight. The meeting this time will be one hundred percent professional. You have my word.

Where do you suggest we meet?

Best,

Lincoln Nash

CEO

Nash Enterprises, Inc.

Well, it's good to know at least that Lincoln isn't interested. Not that I'm worried that I'll give in, but...if I've learned anything, it's best to keep things between clients and employees strictly professional. I won't make the same mistake again.

To: Lnash@nashhotels.com

Subject: Tomorrow

Mr. Nash,

I'll have my assistant text you with the details in the morning, as it is late and I'd like to sleep on it before I decide. Hopefully, that's okay.

Regards,

Sienna Stone

CEO

Stone Media Entertainment

I don't expect him to reply, but as I'm brushing my teeth, my phone vibrates again with another email.

From: Lnash@nashhotels.com

Subject: Re: Tomorrow

Ms. Stone,

I'm looking forward to it. Sleep well.

Sincerely,

Lincoln Nash

CEO

Nash Enterprises, Inc.