Contract with the Billionaire: The Billionaires Club

Chapter One

brIELLE

“Jameson, this is Brielle Delaney.”

“Is this the pit bull you said you were bringing in?” Jameson asked his mother, the one who hired me.

“Excuse you,” I said, offended.

“Cute,” he offered in a sarcastic tone and a crooked grin as he stalked off as if I didn’t exist.

What the hell? “Excuse me,” I said politely to his mother, then followed him wherever he was walking to and got my position in front of him as I walked backward. But he finally stopped.

“Do you have little dick syndrome? Is this what this is? Because your ego is through the roof.”

He showed off a slight grin. “You want to see my dick?”

I scrunched my face. “Ew. No, I don’t want to see your dick.” He continued walking, and I walked next to him. He’s six-foot-two compared to my five-foot-five, where I actually had to look up at him.

We entered an office, he sat in a big comfy chair, and I planted my butt on his desk and crossed my legs.

“Can I help you?” he asked, not even looking my way.

“You can actually. You can email me what your day-to-day looks like. I mean, I have an idea from your mother, but I would like you to email me.”

“Noted.”

With this guy, I know full well I will have my hands full. I hold my hand out to him, “I need the keys to your place.”

“Excuse you?” He lifted his eyebrows at me.

I laughed. “Oh, did your mother not mention this? You will eat, live, and breathe when I say to. You won’t be able to shit without me knowing about it. Now keys.”

“It’s a keyless entry. The numbers are 5487.”

“Original.”

“What?”

“Pffft. Your birthdate.” I stood and then bent down to whisper in his ear. “I do my homework on my clients.” Then I turned on my heels and left.

Outside, I called my bestie Kali, who is my boss and my best friend.

“Hey. How’s it going with Titan?” she immediately asked.

“Well, he’s definitely going to be a challenge. And you know I love a good challenge.”

“Is he as hot in person as he is in the photos online?”

“Hotter. He’s so tall.” Sigh. “It’s the dark brown hair and that beard and mustache thing that gets me. Yeah, he’s hot.”

An image of drowning his beard and mustache flashed in my brain. Oh god. This needs to be straight professional and I wasn’t sure if that was going to be possible.

“Are you still there, Bri?”

“I’m here, sorry, lost in thought.”

“Well, I was saying if anyone can whip someone into shape, it’s you. You’re the best of the best.”

“Thanks. Well, I gotta go. I’ll check in, in a couple of days.”

“Okay. Talk later.”

“Later.”

Not to toot my own horn, but Kali was right. I only handled high profile people because I knew how they worked, and I’ve worked my ass off to get to this point. And I can pick and choose who I want to work with.

And Jameson Titan was no exception. Known for being a playboy, never seen with the same woman twice, does whatever the hell he wants, and has countless drunken nights. Oh, did I mention he’s a billionaire? He helps his mother run Titan Enterprises if you can even call it that.

He got his money from his father, who was the CEO, and he passed away three years ago. Now his mother is acting as CEO, but she wishes her son was responsible enough to run it, so she can step down. She refuses to let the business be run into the ground.

Shaking my head from my thoughts, I made a stop at the store to get some supplies I would need, which included lots of wine. Jameson had no clue what he was in for. His mother requested me to move in with him, and she’s paying a lot of money for me to do my job, however, it was never about the money, it was about accomplishing the challenge. I am no stranger to people like Jameson. Even at thirty-two, he acted like a spoiled brat.

When I approached the building, I held the bag of groceries in one hand and had luggage in another and looked up at how high it was. I never understood why people lived in high-rise -buildings. What happens in case of a fire? Or an earthquake? I shuddered at the thought.

Stepping inside, I found the elevator and pressed the button for the forty-second floor. When the elevator halted, and the doors opened, his place was easy to find. I pressed the numbers he gave me earlier, and the door clicked open.

I spotted his suite, which probably took up half the space, if I had to guess.

My eyes scanned the space, and it was humungous. Typical. I rolled my eyes. Typical. Immediately entering, I could see the kitchen space, there were bar stools on the one side of the island, and then right across the kitchen was the living space, there was no separation of the two spaces.

I heard feet pitter-pattering on the hardwood floor, and he came into view from around the corner. I halted. He was drying his hair with a towel, and he looked at me with no expression. The man was bare-chested and wore gray sweatpants. His abs were very well-defined, and I had to swallow a hard lump. Mother fucker. His chest hair clung to his chest as water droplets flowed down his skin.

Even thinking such thoughts, I’d never crossed that line in all the time I have done this professionally. But there was a first time for everything.

Pulling my eyes away from him, I plopped the bag of groceries on the counter.

“Welcome,” he finally said, acknowledging me.

He made a drink for himself and didn’t offer me any. I reached for the wine and searched the cupboards for a glass.

“Help yourself,” he said.

“Thank you. I will.” I was being sarcastic, of course. He was going to ruffle my feathers in all the ways possible.

He sat on a stool while I stood opposite of him, drinking my wine.

“I’ve never lived with a woman before.”

“I know.”

“Oh, right. You know everything about me.”

“I do. And all this…” I motioned the space of the room with my glass. “Your fancy apartment, tailor-made suits, and expensive cars, they could all vanish in a second. Then what will you do?” I gripped the edge of the counter with both hands and asserted my position.

“I’ll admit, I like your spunk. So, the contract you have with my mother…we can both agree it’s technically with me. And I’ll entertain this little project of yours. That’ll be fun to see, being as I don’t give a fuck about Titan Enterprises. It could burn to the ground, and I wouldn’t flinch. And I am only agreeing to this because I have respect for my mother. How long are you doing this for?”

“As long as I need to. My average is about three months.”

He extended his hand out. “Deal.”

I shook his strong hand. “Deal.”

“Don’t get too comfortable on that high horse of yours,” he told me.

And with that, he stalked off as he drank the last drop of his drink. I unloaded the rest of the groceries and put them away where I figured they went. And I made a mental note to stock up on more wine. I was going to need it.