Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2) (22 page)

“Aunt Cass!” she shouted.

“Slow down, Mila,” Claire called behind her, following her daughter’s lead while shaking her head in amusement.

Mila didn’t waste any time, opening the passenger door and hopping into the back seat. “Where’s Uncle Thatch?” she asked, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror.

I turned in my seat to face her, taking in her current attire with tickled eyes. From the
Harry Styles is my boyfriend
T-shirt to her rain boots covered in cut-out magazine pictures of the band, she was decked out, head to toe, in One Direction gear.

“We’re meeting him at his office. Is it okay that I’m coming along today?”

She pumped her little fist in the air. “Yes! I’m so excited!”

“Hey, Cass,” Claire said once she reached the vehicle. “I’m surprised to see you today.”

“I thought I’d tag along, but only because I wanted to hang out with Mila,” I said, winking at the adorable little girl in the back seat.

“Please excuse her outfit,” Claire whispered, leaning over the passenger door and into my space so I could hear her. “But I couldn’t convince her to change.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” I whispered back and then said loud enough for Mila to hear, “One Direction is the coolest.”

“I love One Direction!” Mila agreed excitedly.

Claire laughed. “She literally made those boots this morning. I have a feeling you’ll be losing pictures of Harry and the gang all over Central Park this afternoon.”

“Let’s go!” Mila encouraged. “Bye, Mom!”

Claire laughed. “You think she’s a little eager to leave?”

“Maybe just a little bit,” I agreed, grinning.

After Claire got Mila settled in her booster seat in the back and kissed her daughter good-bye, we were on our way, sunglasses on and ready to rumble.

“You wanna listen to some music?” I asked at a stoplight.

“One Direction!”

Of course
, I thought to myself and smiled. “You got it, girlfriend.” I grabbed my phone and pulled up Spotify. Once the perfect playlist—
every single One Direction album
—was set up, I hit play and headed for Manhattan.

“Wooohoooo!” Mila yelled from the back seat. She alternated between singing the lyrics to every song at the top of her little lungs and throwing her hands in the air as we cruised back into the city.

Traffic was bustling as we drove up 5th Avenue, but that was the New York norm. The streets were cluttered with yellow cabs honking their horns and pedestrians hurriedly crossing the busy intersections. Tourists stared up at the enormous skyscrapers from the sidewalks and natives abruptly moved around them, annoyed and desperate to get to their next destination.

“We need to make a quick stop, okay?” I told Mila as I pulled up in front of Brooks Media.

She clapped her hands. “I hope it’s somewhere fun!”

Paul—one of the security guards for Kline’s building—strode over toward our car, irritation etched across his face. “Ma’am, you can’t park—wait…
Cassie Phillips
?” Paul’s irritation turned to intrigue, a soft smirk covering his lips.

“Hey, handsome.” I winked. “How are you?”

“It’s been a while, sweetheart. Ever since Georgia left, we never see your gorgeous face around here.”

“I guess I should change that, huh?”

He nodded. “Definitely.”

“Listen, I need to leave the car here for about fifteen minutes. I just need to run inside and grab something from Dean.”

“Cass…I don’t know…”

“Oh, c’mon, Paulie.” I batted my eyelashes. “I promise we’ll be quick.”

He shrugged. “Okay. But make it quick.”

“You’re the best,” I said, getting out of the driver’s seat and helping Mila out of her booster. “I owe you one.”

“Dinner with me, and we’ll call it even.”

I grinned in his direction as I grabbed Mila’s hand. “I’m not sure my boyfriend would be too thrilled with me going out with other men.”

“Boyfriend?” His eyebrows rose. “Cassie Phillips has a boyfriend?”

“Her boyfriend is my Uncle Thatch!” Mila chimed in.

Surprise consumed Paul’s face. “Thatch? As in Thatch Kelly?”

“That’s him!” The little chatterbox continued to speak for me.

I laughed. “This is his niece and fan club, Mila.”

Paul kneeled in front of her, holding out his hand. “Well, pretty Mila, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said as he took her hand and kissed the top.

She giggled, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously, and I couldn’t help but laugh. This little girl already had men eating out of the palm of her hand. Her teenage years would give Frankie, Claire, and probably Thatch, a run for their money.

“Thanks again, Paul,” I called over my shoulder as we strode inside Brooks Media.

“Where are we?” Mila asked, looking around the lobby of the Winthrop Building in wonder.

“We’re heading to my friend’s office. I need to borrow something from him,” I explained as I led her onto the elevator.

“I think I’ve been here before,” she said as we stepped off the elevator and walked through the hallway outlined by various offices. “Does Uncle Thatch’s friend work here?”

“Who? Kline?”

“Yep,” she said with a nod, and her ponytail bounced up and down in response. “Last time I was here, Kline let me play games on his computer.”

“He does work here.” Owned the place. Same thing. Knowing Kline, he’d probably told her he was his own secretary. I grabbed her hand and led her to the end of the hall, where Dean’s office was located. Mila looked on as I turned the knob and opened the door just slightly. “Is this where the One Direction fan club meetings are held?” I asked, peeking my head in to find him typing away on his laptop.

He looked up and grinned. “Only if you brought a ready and willing Harry Styles with you.”

I laughed, opening the door wider and ushering Mila inside. “Well, I brought their biggest fan. Does that count?”

Dean stood up and walked around his desk. His grin widened as he took in Mila’s attire. “Little Miss, you are my new favorite person. I want Harry to be my boyfriend, too.”

Mila’s hand went straight to her hip, and a determined look crossed her tiny face. “He can’t be your boyfriend cuz he’s gonna be
my
boyfriend. When I’m thirteen, Harry is gonna marry me. I’m gonna wear a pink dress and he’s gonna kiss me.” And she punctuated that statement with a snap in the air.

Dean laughed, visibly amused by her pint-sized sass. “Will you at least invite me to your wedding?”

She eyed him skeptically and pointed her little index finger in his direction. “Only if you promise to not eat all the pizza and donuts.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Donuts?”

She nodded. “Um, yeah. Harry and me is gonna have pizza and a donut cake at our wedding.”

Man, I loved her little mind. My perfect wedding would be pizza and a donut cake, too. And hell, to be honest, I had never really been completely sold on kids. But Mila was the kind of little girl who could maybe get me to consider purchasing some little monsters of my own.

“Deal, little diva,” Dean agreed, smiling down at her.

I tugged on her ponytail. “I hope you’re going to invite me.”

“Duh.” She rolled her eyes. “You and Uncle Thatch have to bring my baby cousin to the wedding, Aunt Cassie!”

Dean’s eyes bugged out of his head.
“Baby?”

I laughed and sliced a hand through the air for emphasis. “No baby.”

“Not yet,” Mila insisted. “But soon. You just gotta marry Uncle Thatch first.”

His head tilted to the side. “Uncle Thatch? Something you need to tell me?”

“Nope.”

“Lies-a-Minnelli,”
he retorted, and I laughed again.

“Later,” I agreed. “When little ears aren’t around.”

“I’m holding you to that because you know I have got to know
everything
.” He pointed at me and winked. “Okay, so not that I don’t love that you’re here, but seriously, why are you here?”

“Well, as you can see, Mila is dressed to impress, but I’m kind of lacking,” I hinted. “I’m a sad excuse for a
Directioner.”

He raised a sharp brow. “Who told you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied. “I just felt like maybe you had some gear I could borrow.”

Dean definitely had the goods. A few years back, One Direction had had a tour stop in the city, and there was a pop-up store for fans inside Madison Square Garden. Georgia might have told me homeboy had cleaned out on anything and everything Brit boy-band themed.

“Don’t ask questions and follow me,” he said, striding out of his office. Mila looked up at me excitedly and pretended to zip her lips.

A few turns through back hallways I’d never been privy to venturing later, he ushered us inside a storeroom on the other side of the floor. Once he switched on the light, the entire room looked like a teenage girl had vomited up her fandom. The walls were lined with posters. There was not one, not two, but
three
racks cluttered with clothing. And cardboard cutouts of the band stood in the corner.

“Omigod! This is so cool!” Mila jumped up and down.

“I know,” Dean agreed. “This is my favorite place in the building.”

“I’m shocked Kline lets you use this for your undying One Direction love.” I glanced around the room, while Mila helped herself to the racks of clothes.

“We have an understanding.”

I raised an eyebrow, and it pulled one corner of my mouth up with it involuntarily. “You have an understanding?”

He flashed a secret smile. “Yeah, he understands that whatever he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

I smiled full out. “Kline Brooks would lose his shit if he saw this.”

A hand went to his hip. “Well, good thing he’ll never know,
right?”

“Cool it, diva,” I teased. “I won’t spill the deets on your shrine to One D.”

He feigned offense. “Oh, no, honey. You did
not
just call me a diva.”

“Oh, but I did,” I said, walking over by Mila.

“You’re lucky I refuse to corrupt the young and innocent. Otherwise, you’d be dealing with a full-on catfight,
Cassandra.”

“Knock, knock,” I announced as Mila and I opened the door to Thatch’s office.

He glanced up from his computer, and a giant smile consumed his face.

My chest grew tight at the sight of his radiating affection, and I inhaled a cleansing breath to ease the discomfort.

Man, I probably needed to see a doctor. No one under thirty should be experiencing chest pain. Well, unless they dabbled in cocaine and attended drug-fueled raves on the weekends. Which, obviously, I didn’t.

Although, I could probably make good use of glow sticks with a naked Thatch. I’d rave all over his Supercock, minus the drugs of course. That man didn’t need any performance enhancers. Any increase to his stamina and my pussy would need a cane to hobble herself onto his dick.

Mila let go of my hand, ran around his desk, and hopped up into his lap. “Hi, Uncle Thatch!” she greeted and placed her hands on each side of his face before kissing his nose. “Ready to go?”

He nodded and kissed her forehead. “What’s on the agenda today, sweetheart?”

She jumped off his lap and handed him a T-shirt and hat out of her backpack. “You have to change your clothes first so everybody matches.”

He tilted his head to the side and glanced up at me. His eyes made the circuit down my body and then back up again—paying particular attention to my T-shirt that read,
Liam is my spirit animal.
They were fully amused by the time they met my gaze again.

“I’m supposed to wear these?” he asked Mila.

She nodded. “Yep. You’re gonna look so awesome!”

Five minutes later, Thatch was walking out of the en suite bathroom in his office and lifting Mila up to carry her piggyback style. He looked outrageous with a
Niall is my boyfriend
T-shirt stretched tight across his huge chest and a One Direction baseball cap worn backward on his head.

“How do I look, Mila?” he asked.

“So cool!” Mila said, resting her chin on his shoulder.

His eyes met mine and he grinned. “Next time, Aunt Cassie and I are going to switch. I like Liam more than Niall.”

“No way,” I disagreed, running a hand across the words on the front of my shirt. “You’ll have to fight me for this dreamboat.”

“I have no issues with wrestling you, Crazy.” He winked.

“Can we go?” Mila asked impatiently. “I’m hungry.”

Thatch grabbed his new wallet, keys, and phone and slid them into his pockets and managed it all with Mila still hanging from his back. “Let’s hit it,” he said and grabbed my hand, leading us out of his office and toward the elevator.

As we rode the cart down to ground level, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling as I looked at Thatch, decked out in One Direction fan gear, with Mila on his back. No man in his right mind would subject himself to this willingly.

But Thatch wasn’t a normal kind of guy.

He was different.

And I really liked his kind of different.