Home > The Billionaire's Secret (His Submissive #6)(9)

The Billionaire's Secret (His Submissive #6)(9)
Author: Ava Claire

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Rudy’s Diner had a reputation for being bad news for anyone remotely concerned about their health. Their grilled cheese came on a glistening bed of butter and grease. Their bacon was hearty, not shriveling to nothing when fried. They had friend twinkies on their menu, for crissakes. Luckily, I was in the kind of mood where a burger the size of my head and a milkshake with a gazillion calories sounded like a great idea.

Megan wasn’t so enthused. “Well, that’s a first. They don’t have a salad anywhere on this thing.”

“I think jalapeno poppers are under ‘sides’ on the back,” I offered.

“Jalapeno poppers?” Even though I had my eyes on the menu, I knew hers were narrowed in disgust. “I guess I’ll just grab something on the way home.”

A waitress saddled up to our table. She couldn’t have been older than sixteen, even though her heavy handed makeup made her look about thirty. Her hair was dishwater blond and she was smacking on her gum like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted.

“Y’all decided?” she purred.

I glanced at Megan as she gingerly pushed the menu to the edge of the table like any full on contact would infect her. “Just a coffee for me.”

The waitress turned in my direction. “And you?”

“I want the Big Rudy burger, as close to rare as possible, large fries, and I want to substitute a cookies and cream milkshake for my drink.” I handed her my menu and added, “With whipped cream. Lots of whipped cream.”

Her dingy brown eyes softened. “One of those kinda days, huh?”

I just glared at her.

She shrugged a shoulder and hustled off, barking out our order.

“You know rare here probably means just killed out back, right?” Megan said, looking at me like I was insane. “I didn’t even check their sanitation grade. I’ll probably get salmonella from my mug alone.”

“If you’re going to complain all night, I can just take a cab home.” When I saw the hurt flicker across her face, I rolled my eyes and dropped my head to the table. Another person I’d done wrong. I was on a freaking roll. “I shouldn’t have invited you.”

“Agreed.” Even muffled, her voice was taut with anger. “I’m not going to be your punching bag, Leila.”

I let out a sigh, peeking at her over the wall of my arms. “Sorry.”

“Uh huh,” she said with an eye roll of her own. The waitress dropped off her coffee and I could tell she was saying a prayer as she brought the rim to her lips and took a sip. She winced like she just threw back a shot.

I sat back up, the sides of my mouth twitching. “Better than Starbucks?”

“I’m gonna sprout hair on my chest any second now,” she joked, cradling the mug between her hands.

“Chest hair is the new black according to my sources,” I remarked, giving into the smile. “And you know I have my finger on the pulse of all things hip and cool.”

She pretended she was scouring the room for our waitress. “I better get a refill then.” She reached for the sugar and sprinkled some in the cup, stirring it in pensively. “You ready to talk about what happened?”

I pushed my back against the tattered booth, the cut of the jagged fabric preferable to poking at the fresh wound. “It’s complicated.”

“You are dating one of the sexiest, most successful businessmen in the States and apparently, Captain Freaking Gorgeous is throwing his hat in the ring. Complicated is a bit of an understatement, don’t you think?”

She had a point. I’d passed complicated as soon as I signed on the dotted line and became Jacob’s assistant and submissive.

There really weren’t any words for my current situation. Somehow, my real life fairytale took a detour and became a nightmare. Somewhere along the way, I became the villain who kept hurting the person I cared about most. It was hard enough admitting that to myself, but saying it out loud? That was unbearable.

But Megan didn’t back down. “I’m guessing you finally talked to Jacob, face to face.”

I gave her an inch. “Yes.”

“And it didn’t go well.”

“Now that’s an understatement.” I dodged the daggers she flung in my direction. “Yes, we finally talked.” I crossed my arms, remembering the sheer joy at even seeing his face. “He made a joke and then we kissed.”

“You kissed?” she said excitedly. “You kissed, that’s--” She paused, green eyes reading my pinched expression. “--not great?”

“Not great,” I confirmed, looking at the kitchen. Where was my food? I needed grease, chocolate, and fat if I was really going to talk about this. “He barely kissed me and when I tried to touch him…” The hurt sliced as deep as before, right to the bone. I couldn’t finish.

“Oh,” Megan said softly. Her shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh that’s not the worse part,” I said with a bitter chuckle. “The best is yet to come.”

Suddenly she was looking like she wanted to turn back, not wanting to hear any more. “So today in class, one of my students--”

“I thought you wanted to find out why I’m about to devour three thousand calories in one fell swoop?”

Almost on cue, our waitress came up with my mega meal and milkshake on a tray, unloading all of it on my side of the table, then topping off Megan’s coffee. I took a sip of my milkshake, swallowing the creamy mix as she shifted uncomfortably.

“You should only talk about it if you’re ready to talk about it.”

“Oh I’m ready,” I said with a big, plastic smile. “Why wouldn’t I want to tell you all about how I broke Jacob Whitmore’s heart?”

“Leila--”

“Why wouldn’t I want to rehash the single moment that’s been playing on loop for hours? To relive the look of gut wrenching agony on his face? To talk about how after everything we’ve been through, how I fought so hard to get him to open up, he thinks that I did it all so I could just stab him in the chest?”

She snapped her mouth shut.

“He thinks I don’t respect him. And why wouldn’t he? This Cade crap is the second time I’ve kept the whole truth from him.” My voice was getting louder and Megan glanced around nervously at the diners who shot their eyes in our direction. I didn’t even notice them. “He thinks all of his love has been wasted on me. He thinks I don’t love him.” I yanked out the toothpick holding my burger together and picked it up, lettuce and onions raining back onto the plate as tears streamed down my face. I didn’t taste anything but I just kept biting, stuffing the meat down my throat. I just wanted to feel something, anything other than this pain.

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