Billionaire Boss 18+ Enemies to Lovers, Fake Relationship Age Gap Romance

9 - I Don't Know Her

9 - I Don't Know Her

Damon

I glared at the replies and resisted the urge to slam the iPad on the desk and instead took a deep breath, holding the tablet gently.

"What the fuck is this?" I asked, glaring at our marketing agent who brought me the latest news of my late mother's beauty brand, Moore, and how the new promotion was going down the hill.

I had invested over a million dollars, and it was going down the drain.

"I don't think we are marketing the product well, Mr. Grant."

I stood up, the chair creaking and rolling back as I glared at her. "You don't think I can see that?! Remind me, Janice," I said, keeping my palms on the desk and looming over her. She cowered, trying to hide behind her long bangs. "How much did I invest in this green lipstick? And it's ads, marketing, PR, hm?"

"It's Jane."

My left eye twitched. "I don't give a fuck about your name. I paid you—this whole weird marketing idea of frog—and I don't see a single fucking cent of profit."

She was trembling, making me want to ball my fists. I hated working as the CEO of Moore cosmetics. After Dorothy's death, Emma owned the brand, but she was busy studying and smooching off with her old boyfriend that she didn't have time to handle a multibillion-dollar beauty brand. In the end, I had to accept the CEO job and hand over my Vixen club to someone else.

I would rather work in that sex club, holed up in my tiny office than step into the pink and glitter world of cosmetics where everything smelled like chocolates and candies. Even the fifty-dollar foot scrub we sold came in different flavors.

Who the fuck needs different flavors for foot scrub?

"I don't see the results I paid for," I said in a calm tone as much as I could muster. But in the end, I was sure I scared her by the look of terror on her face. "I'll ask Rahul to send me a list of our marketing team and who came up with this stupid fucking idea. Even a five year old has a better marketing strategy than this."

I called Rahul, who was in his late twenties and the only person I'd trust with my calendar and schedule. I ignored his cackling when I asked him for the list of people in the marketing team and ended the call. Yes, he had warned me, but I was stupid enough to sell green lipstick.

"What the fuck are you still doing here, Jade?" I demanded, fixing my cufflinks as I sat down on my chair.

She swallowed. "Someone's calling you, Dick."

I stared at her. "What the fuck did you just say?" I was about to stand up when she turned on her heels and ran out of my office.

I glared at the empty spot and moved my gaze to my phone. It was Emma, but before I could pick it up, it went to voicemail. I sighed and leaned back in my chair. As soon as I closed my eyes, my head went straight to Thursday night. My cock bulged at the thought of the kitten.

Picking up my phone, I saw the text I had sent her,

Me: It was upsetting to wake up alone, but I hope we can have a repeat soon—D

She hadn't replied, but it was only Monday. And, okay. I admit it. I suck at flirting through texts. But at least it's better than sending her an unsolicited picture of my dick.

Or did she recognize it was me? Should I resend the message with 'Sir' in the end? I started typing and stopped.

What the fuck was I doing acting like a fucking teenager? I didn't even react this way when I was a teenager. Jesus fucking Christ. I didn't have time to think about her when I had to get the sales on track.

I wondered why Emma called, since she rarely ever called me, so I dialed her number, expecting her to announce that she was in Los Angeles.

"I'm busy," I said as a way of greeting, my tone soft. No matter our past, she was my little sister. The only person I considered as my family. And after what had happened in her high school, I was sure as hell not trusting her life in someone else's hands, even though that person was a veteran with years of military training under his belt. "I can't pick you up or your old boyfriend from the airport."

"Cillian's not that old. And we are not in LA," she replied, her voice sweet. "And hello to you, too. I missed you."

"He is older than me by five years, Em," I sighed and leaned back in the chair, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I wish I could have dinner with you."

"Awww, I knew you missed me, too."

If someone had told me that Emma would ever talk to me like this, I'd have laughed and paid them a grand. But I was so glad we had bonded over our relationship. That I was not as fucked up as my father.

I cracked a small smile. "You know you can move here if you want to. I have a condo furnished and ready for you."

I heard a gruff voice, and I knew Cillian was close to her. I rolled my eyes. Despite their age difference, they were inseparable, and I'd be a shithead if I didn't think he was good for Emma.

"I told you before. I like it here in Coral Springs. But anyway, I called you because I need a favor."

I straightened up. Emma Moore, my twenty-two-year-old sister and a billionaire, was the last person on the planet who needed a favor from me. "What is it?"

"Do you know Summer?"

"No," I lied. "I don't know her." My hand tightened on the phone.

Just hearing her name ignited a flash of memories in my head that I had tried my best to forget. The taste of her brown skin, soft dark curls, pillowy lips I could kiss—

No. I wasn't going there.

"You're such a terrible liar, Damon," Emma snickered and continued, her voice serious, "She... well, something happened and I need you to be there for her for a night."

"No," I blurted. I wasn't going anywhere ten feet near that woman.

"You didn't even hear me—"

"I said no, Emma. I'm busy. I'm working on this marketing—"

"Please, Damon," her voice turned soft. "She needs someone with her for that dinner. Please."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I couldn't say no to her when she asked me for it. She wouldn't have asked me if it wasn't serious.

"What do I have to do?"

"Great! I knew you would agree. Just be at the address I sent you at seven sharp. Tonight. Thanks, bye-bye!" Emma ended the call before I could open my mouth to argue.

She knew me too well.

I glared at the photo of her in a messy bun. I took it when she was grumpy, eating cereal from a bowl.

Checking the address, I slumped in my chair and shook my head.

I knew Emma was evil, but I didn't know she was this malicious.

I shouldn't have trusted my sister. Fuck. 

A/N: Uh oh 🤭 

Billionaire Boss is a published novel and you can find it on Amazon, iBooks, Nook, Kobo, Google Books, Smashwords, etc. You can also get a paperback! You can also read it on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/mahimistry