The Billionaire’s Lie – Chapter 1

The Billionaire's Lie (L.A. Players #2) by Ansela Corsino
The Billionaire’s Lie (L.A. Players #2) by Ansela Corsino

“It’s Alexa, isn’t it?” Darien Lee asked, looking her up and down. His expression was unreadable.

Alexa raised her eyebrows. Darien knew damn well who she was, she’d been working at the Crofton Regency Hotel for a year. “Yes, sir,” she said, straightening her back a little more. “Alexa Diaz.”

What had she done this time?

Despite her apprehension, being asked to see the newly-appointed night manager in his office was just about the most exciting thing that had happened to her all week. Hell, the sight of his exquisite cheekbones was enough to make a girl think … words like “exquisite”.

Darien rested his lower arms on his desk. “I didn’t see you at the staff briefing this evening.”

“Ms. Moore sent me out to get a coffee for a guest.”

“Did we run out of coffee?”

“It’s the Italian film director. He’ll only drink ristretto from La Mia Tazza over at Broadway.”

He frowned. “I see. And the rest of the day?”

“Various other errands outside the hotel. You may check with Ms. Moore to confirm.”

“Yes, I will do that when she comes in tomorrow. For now, I’d like to speak to you about your duties here for the past six months.”

“I don’t understand.” Oh crap.

“Ms. Diaz, I took a look at the housekeeping reports for the past several months,” he said, turning to look at the screen of his laptop. “Do you know what I found interesting?”

“No, sir.” She did.

His fingers slid up and down his computer’s trackpad, his eyes still on the screen. “You haven’t done much housekeeping. That’s your job, isn’t it?”

“Ms. Moore keeps me busy, Mr. Lee. I may not have been doing a lot of room duties but—“

“Five time, Ms. Diaz.” He finally turned to look back at her. “In the past six months. That’s how many times you’ve done a housekeeping round.”

That sounded about right. Unfortunately. “If you say so, sir.”

“What exactly do you do here, Ms. Diaz?”

***

“You bastard!”

The crystal vase smashed against the wall behind Kellan Butler. Luckily, he had ducked quickly enough to avoid having it broken on his face.

“Kimmy, please,” he said, holding up his hands. “There’s no need to get violent.” Slowly, he tried to straighten up but he had to crouch down again to avoid a champagne glass that was flung at him.

Despite being in the precarious position of being the target of many breakable objects within Kimmy’s reach, he couldn’t help but admire her aim. It was just his luck that his date happened to be currently playing forward for the New York Liberty basketball team.

The statuesque platinum blonde was wearing nothing but pale pink lace lingerie and a furious look on her face. “You brought me here for this?” she said, her barely covered chest heaving in anger. 

“Will you stop throwing things at me, please?” he said gently. “It’s dangerous to have bits of glass flying into our eyes.”

She was just about to fling a small heavy stone figurine at him. She paused and set it down heavily on the table beside her.

“Thank you,” he said. “Look, I’m really sorry. I understand you may feel … deceived—“

“You invited me to your hotel room after dinner, and now you won’t fuck me?”

“I’m well within my rights to say no, Kim.”

“You gave me this,” she said, putting her hands on her hips, “and told me to wear it.”

“Well, yes, I did. Um, do you like it?”

“This was all so your girlfriend could see me like this? What kind of sick bastard—”

“I can explain—” Kellan didn’t finish, having to drop down once again as the stone statuette sailed over his head and crashed behind him on the floor with a loud thud.

***

“If you read Ms. Moore’s reports—” Alexa started to say.

“I have,” said Darien. “She writes you up as extremely efficient at your job. Irreplaceable. An asset to the Crofton.”

She felt her cheeks glow with pride. Thanks, Kaala.

It took her a moment to realize Darien was looking at her expectantly. “How much coffee could our guests possibly want that can’t be provided by our own kitchens?”

“You’d be surprised, Mr. Lee.” It wasn’t just coffee, either. Last week, she’d had to hunt down a chef who was on holiday just to get him to whip up a special cake for the daughter of a Saudi prince.

“Yes, well. I’m going to need your irreplaceable skills for a task tonight, Ms. Diaz. A very special guest. A VIP, in fact.”

“Consider it done.”

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