The Billionaire Gets His Way

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Book: The Billionaire Gets His Way Read Online Free PDF
Author: Elizabeth Bevarly
would mean Violet had spent money on her rental clothing for nothing and would have to spend more later in the week. Not to mention stew over Gavin Mason’s threats for another few days.
    â€œToday would be much better,” she said firmly. “I mean, I’m here now, and—” she threw a meaningful look over her shoulder at the waiting area “—and no one else is, and, as I said, it won’t take long.”
    â€œMr. Mason has a very full schedule today,” the receptionist repeated crisply. “Perhaps if you can tell me what this is about, I can fit you in—”
    â€œLater in the week,” Violet chorused with her, then added politely, “doesn’t work for me, I’m afraid.”
    â€œWell, perhaps if you’d made an appointment…”
    Violet tried again. “Maybe if you told Mr. Mason I’m here, he would—”
    â€œMr. Mason has a very full schedule today.”
    â€œHe might—”
    â€œPerhaps if you can tell me what this is about, I can fit you in later in the week.”
    There was no way Violet was going to tell this woman she was here because Gavin Mason suspected her of being a call girl who’d written about him in a memoir that was really a novel. But if the only way she was going to seethe man was later in the week, then she’d have to settle for that.
    â€œFine,” she said. “I’d like to make an appointment with Gavin Mason later in the week.”
    The receptionist smiled, this time with great satisfaction, lifting her perfectly manicured hands to the keyboard before her. “And your meeting is in regard to…?”
    â€œPublic relations,” Violet said off the top of her head.
    The receptionist narrowed her eyes. “Can you be more specific?”
    â€œNo.”
    She narrowed her eyes some more but didn’t push the issue. Instead, she studied her computer screen for a moment and said, “Come back at four-fifty-five on Friday. He can see you for five minutes.”
    Violet gaped at that, but didn’t object. How could she? She was the one who had said it would only take a few minutes. A foot in the door, she reminded herself. That was all she needed.
    â€œFine,” she said through gritted teeth.
    â€œYour name?”
    She started to reply with her real name, then realized Gavin Mason wouldn’t recognize it. “Raven French.”
    She might as well have yelled that the receptionist’s hair was on fire, so massive was the woman’s reaction. Her hands faltered on the keyboard, she bolted backward in her chair, and when she jerked up her head to look at Violet again, her eyes were wide with horror.
    â€œRaven French,” she echoed. With no small amount of melodrama, too, Violet couldn’t help thinking. Honestly, the woman might as well have been summoning some kind of B-movie hell spawn.
    â€œYe-es,” Violet said cautiously.
    Now it was the receptionist who gaped. But she didn’tsay anything, either. Her gaze never leaving Violet’s, she rose unsteadily from her chair and began to back away, bumping into the wall behind herself before flattening her palms against it and sidling to the right.
    â€œStay right there,” she finally said, her voice going even more Norma Desmond than before. “I think maybe Mr. Mason has a moment right now.”
    And with that, the woman disappeared behind the wall. Violet heard the clatter of something tumbling over, followed by a thump and the crash of breaking glass, and a not-so-quietly muttered—nor in any way professional—oath. Then there was the quick rapping of knuckles on a door and an even less-quiet—and even less professional—screech of “Oh my God, Mr. Mason, that horrible woman is here to see you. Here. In your office. Can you imagine the nerve?”
    The screeching was then replaced by another clatter and thump, only this time it sounded more like
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