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Bad Boy Billionaire

Bad Boy Billionaire

Author:S. Cinders

Updating

Billionaire

Introduction
★Sutton-I know for a fact that nothing in this life comes free. When you live in a rundown trailer on the wrong side of town. You know a thing or two about hunger, fear, and despair. Ever since Mama passed away, I have gotten along just fine. I go to work, keep my head down, and do my best to stay out of trouble.But he always seems to find me... trouble, that is. When Mr. Hot-shot New York turned up telling me that I had inherited a bunch of money, I laughed in his face. I knew down to my toes that something had to be wrong. Nobody, nowhere, no-how had ever gone out of their way to leave me so much as a dime. This was far too 'happily ever after' for my liking.I just wished that he wasn't so insistent…-or clearly the best looking man I'd ever seen.-or smelled so darn good.- or easily my greatest mistake waiting to happen. ★Mark-I was groomed to take over the boss's company. I've worked, no slaved, for years making Sutton Industries the most lucrative, sought after, and most covet
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Chapter

Sutton

Before Mama got sick, she would often tell me that there were two kinds of people in this world.

"The first ones are like you and me," she'd say. "Good, hardworking folks that are just trying to get by. Then there is the second type. Those are the ones you really need to worry about, Sutton."

Then Mama would lean in real close like she was imparting the secrets of the world. I always knew what she was about to say, but I'd get caught up in the drama of it all and listen with bated breath. I can remember the rasp of her voice and the smell of liquor wafting into my nose.

"Those cheeky bastards have money," she'd whisper with an intensity that I couldn't understand. "Don't fall for it, Sutton. Money is the root of all evil, and don't you forget it. Everything bad that's ever happened to us happened because of money."

***

"You're late, Sutton."

I winced internally as I listened to my boss chastise me for being late. Flinging my bag under the dingy counter at Abberly's bar, I looked up from my crouched position to see Gabriel Reece glaring at me.

Rather than answer him, I yanked my apron out of my bag and went to work tying it on.

"We have a start time for a reason, Sutton" he stated in that lofty tone of his.

"I'm sorry," I grit out between clenched teeth. I knew better than to give an excuse, even if it was a valid one. Gabe didn't care if I had an excuse, he just liked riding my ass. It started in Kindergarten and he hadn't got bored of it yet.

I could swear that there was a glint of smugness that entered into his cold eyes as he continued to stare me down. Finally, he spoke, "You are late—again. I told you the next time you came in here late I would be taking it off your wages."

I hated the stupid son of a bitch. I hadn't been late in over two years. I was so tempted to tell him what he could do with this job, and the stick lodged in his ass. But the familiar grumbling of my stomach forced me to hold my tongue. I needed the money that this terrible job provided. It was the reason, the only reason, I agreed to work for the asshole in the first place.

Glancing at the clock before turning back to glare at him, I answered smartly, "It's three minutes after the hour, Gabe. What are you going to deduct, fifteen cents?"

Okay, so I hadn't done the math. But at a waitressing hourly wage, I wasn't bringing home the big bucks. I could see by his reaction that I wasn't far off the mark. Gabe looked ready to wring my bare neck. Well, good, I wouldn't mind wringing his either.

"Sutton, we pay you to be here at three, not three minutes after three. This isn't a difficult concept, so even you should understand it. If you are unable to be on time for your shift, you can find somewhere else to work."

Oh, I bet he would love that. Gabe hadn't always been the owner of Abberly's. His mama, God rest her soul, had always been good to me. Ruth Ann treated me like gold. Which was saying something in this town, where I not only came from the wrong side of the tracks, but the wrong side of the blanket.

Pushing my way past Gabe, I took in the current customers. I smiled when I saw two of my favorite older ladies glancing surreptitiously over their menus, clearly trying to eavesdrop. As my eyes continued to scan the room, I saw a few of the other tables were taken. Nothing too stressful. This would be an easy—peasy kind of day.

"Oh, and Sutton? Max has been waiting nearly a half hour for his drink." Gabe shot me a smug look when I immediately jumped into action.

"Why didn't you say something instead of tearing up at me?" I grumbled just loud enough for Gabe to hear.

A bubble of excitement lit inside of me. Max was another of my favorite people in Otterville Falls. In a rush, I wound my long dark hair into a messy bun and secured it with a pen. Then I raced over to the bar and began to pour Max a drink.

Thinking that Max had already sat there for thirty minutes, I went ahead and poured another drink. Then I carefully balanced the tray on one arm and strode across the old wood planks completely unaware that my shoe was untied. Tripping, I nearly ended up in Max's lap. Thankfully the older man was deft enough to catch the tray, save the drinks, and my pride.

"Sorry, Maxie!" I called out with a wink, ignoring his growl of disapproval as I kissed his cheek.

"You alright?" he replied gruffly.

I nodded and moved back to get a good look at him. Still handsome in his early fifties, Max had the look of someone that lived hard. I had heard any number of rumors about him over the years. The people in Otterville Falls loved a good mystery and Max was one of the best.

Max and Mama had a special kind of relationship. I can't even begin to tell you what that meant because honest to goodness I have no flipping idea even to this day. Max knew what Mama was, and when he rolled into town on his big motorcycle and stopped at our trailer, I knew what was going on. But I also knew that Mama never cried in the morning when Max stayed over, and there were often groceries in the fridge when he left. Even after Mama died, Max still came in town every few months to check on me. I suppose you could say that he was the only father figure that I had ever known.

"You need money?" he asked in his gruff way.

I answered the same way I always did. "Nah, I'm doing fine. Thanks, Maxie."

He rolled his eyes and went back to his drink. But I didn't miss the slight twitch to his lips that indicated a smile was lurking somewhere under all of that gruff demeanor.

With a grin, I grabbed my notebook out of my apron and moved to the next table.

"Hi, Girls!" I said cheerfully as I greeted Alice and Reena. The two elderly ladies couldn't have been a day over seventy— five. Best friends, roommates, and having never married, you rarely saw one without the other. The ladies were in Abberly's nearly every afternoon.

"What will it be?" I asked. "Would you like the regular or do you want to spice things up?"

Alice pursed her lips wickedly. "Unless you have found a way to get that boss of yours to lose his boxers, I am betting that there is nothing spicy around here going on at all."

I gagged a little. "Eww!"

Alice waggled her drawn—on eyebrows, causing me to laugh. With fake seriousness I warned her, "Alice! That's sexual harassment." Lord knew that Gabe got a kick out of the ladies thinking he was a hot stud. I personally couldn't see what they were talking about.

"I would like to harass him—sexually," she licked her old lady lips lewdly, and I couldn't control snort of laughter that escaped my lips.

"Don't let me stand in your way," I said, pointing to the office. "Go get your man."

Alice winked at me and turned back to her menu. "Maybe tomorrow. I am not feeling up to a workplace tryst."

"Shirley Temple for me," Reena interjected, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "And white zinfandel for the cougar here if you don't mind."

"Coming right up," I said with a smile, jotting down their drinks even though it was the same thing they always ordered. "Y'all want anything to eat?"

Alice looked up hopefully. "Do you have those crab cakes like you did last week?"

"I will check with Joe," I promised before adding, "You want the same, Reena?"

"Oh, goodness me, no!" she said, chins wobbling. "Well, I couldn't—well, maybe just a nibble or two," she said as she tipped her head to the side as she considered our menu. "And some of those onion rings, but just a few mind you. I'm watching my weight."

I nodded obediently and jotted it down. Reena was as plump as Alice was thin. It hardly seemed fair that Alice could eat whatever she wanted and never gain an ounce. I didn't give a shit what Reena weighed. I only wish that it didn't bother her so much. As far as I was concerned, if the woman wanted onion rings, I sure as hell was going to bring them to her.

Seeing that there was only one more customer in the dining room, I headed his way. He was younger than I had originally guessed, far closer to my age. As I came upon him, I saw that the stranger was tall with a muscular build. His slate gray eyes sat under thick black brows matched his inky black hair. Dear merciful heavens, the man was breathtaking. He was also dressed in a suit that likely cost more than this entire bar.

A warning bell went off somewhere inside of my mind. Never trust money. I knew the mantra almost as well as I knew my name.

"Welcome to Abberly's," I said in my most courteous tone. "My name is Sutton, and I will be your waitress today. What can I get you to drink?"

The moment his eyes locked on mine I felt a jolt of electricity run up my spine, nearly causing me to drop my pen and notepad.

"Sutton?" He repeated my name and I felt goosebumps erupt all over my body. His voice was all sexy seduction.

"Yes?"

Damn it. Why had that sounded like a question instead of a statement? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Yes," I said firmly, nodding my head.

He let out a visible sigh of relief.

Strangely, I felt myself relax along with him. I was about to ask him again about his drink when his arm shot out and his long thick fingers curled around my wrist. The surge of electricity before was nothing compared to the fireworks erupting in my midsection from his touch. His hand felt like it was branding me. I barely heard him when he uttered, "It's about damn time."