Baby Love: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Read Online Free PDF

that says professional but not dowdy,” she explained. “And it can’t clash with your hair of course, which is tricky because most of my clothes are for brunettes. And for a different size. But I do have some from when I first started working…” I ignored the slight against my own weight. Callie, who used to be pudgy, now had a personal trainer and a strict meal plan.
    I groaned. “I’ve been in here for an hour, Callie. I so appreciate your help but honestly you’re losing me. It shouldn’t matter what I wear anyway.” I was getting nervous about tomorrow. “See? This is why I didn’t want to do this. This is all flashiness over substance. It’s bullshit.”
    “You really are mean when you’re feeling insecure,” Callie replied with a pointed look. “So you better start again.”
    She was right. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I really, really appreciate your help.”
    Callie nodded and handed me a navy blue dress wordlessly. “Change. This is the one. I promise.”
    ***
    I stood in the studio looking at the four black armchairs sitting under hot studio lights. The production team was setting up the first business; something to do with goats. The assistant was cursing as he tried to herd a baby goat the size of a Bichon Frise into a holding pen. Another was stacking cylinders of creamy product that was either ice cream or lotion. A few more minutes of it sitting there under boiling lights would solve that mystery.
    The navy blue dress had indeed been The One. My hair was curled in loose waves and falling around my face. It looked great against the jersey fabric of the dress. It was sleeveless with a scooped neckline and hit me at mid-thigh. The fabric grabbed onto my body but there were pin tucks and ruching in all the right places to accentuate my curves without showing any lumps. I actually felt better than I had in years. Usually I was in a lab coat with goggle marks on my face.
    Jane the production assistant strolled by me. She looked harried and frazzled, but flashed me a smile. “You’ll be going last, Rachel,” she said. “That’s a good thing. We put the strongest first and last.”
    “Me?” I asked, stunned.
    Jane smiled. “ You ,” she replied. “You really wowed me the other day. Just bring that same personality to the show and there will be nothing at all to worry about.”
    I grinned in spite of myself. Several of the other contestants were glaring at me and whispering to one another. I couldn’t understand why that was. It wasn’t like this was a competition; each deal was considered on its own merits separate from the rest.
    Jane called for quiet on the set, and the four “Engineers” strolled onto the stage. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I saw Zane Reid. He was more boyish looking in person, his face slightly less angular. His eyes were so blue they were like icebergs, his dark, curly hair pushed back from his face. He walked with confidence. His suit hugged his body in all the right places. I suddenly realized I was staring at his ass and blushed.
    Zane took the first armchair. Then came Roger Morehouse, everyone’s favorite Hollywood-handsome playboy heir apparent. Liz Anders, her sharp features, ebony skin and braided, dark hair pinned up neatly, took the third chair. An icy silence fell across the room as Scott Friend crossed the stage. He said nothing to anybody and sat down with a grimace on his pale face. He was the only person on that stage who couldn’t have moonlighted as a handsome actor or actress. I thought about his ironic nickname as he glanced impatiently at his Rolex. Mr. Friendly.
    Emphasis on ironic .
    Ryan Angel, the host of the show, broke the tension with his overly-bleached smile and his movie-trailer voice. A spotlight appeared on him and he adjusted his tie. The director counted down, and suddenly we were rolling. “Welcome to Boiler Room , the show where four billionaires turn up the heat on entrepreneurs in desperate need of cash.”
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