The Billionaire's Alibi: The Proposition Read Online Free PDF Page A

glanced in the side mirror. “At least we lost the reporters.”
    She stared straight ahead, ignoring him. “I am so screwed,” she muttered. “I’m done. Frannie is going to fire me.”
    “Add it to my bill?”
    She glared at him, jaw set and eyes narrowed.
    He raised his eyebrows.
    “I don’t need your money,” she growled, opening the car door. “I need you to go the fuck away, forever.”
    He huffed at her tone. “Can I at least get a ride back to my car?”
    She slammed the door on him.
     

 
    ALEXA
    WILLIAM Henry Harper. The name wedged its way deeper into Alexa’s mind as she trudged back to her rinky-dink apartment, trying to figure out how an entire day could go so wrong. After the car accident, she had sent a car service to pick up the kids, but by the time they reached the house, Frannie was already calling her.
    “What’s going on?” she demanded. “Where are you? The chef is here, but he has no food—where is the food?”
    Alexa explained the sequence of events as best she could, taking care to leave out the part of a stranger basically hijacking her car. And the part about the drugs? She wasn’t sure that would go over very well, either.
    But without those details, her version made her look completely incompetent. Frannie ordered her to call a tow service and get the car to the shop for immediate repairs. Then she informed Alexa that she would be sending her last paycheck in the mail with six weeks of severance, minus the cost of any repairs not covered by insurance, of course.
    Alexa had pleaded, knowing that, without a job, her ex-boyfriend wouldn’t be so willing to put up with her for long. But that wasn’t Frannie’s concern. One screw up too many and the job that she had so desperately clung to was over. She was officially unemployed. Again.
    She kicked at a plastic bottle cap that littered the sidewalk as she continued her trek to the apartment. How could a stranger have sent everything in her life into such a downward spiral? And just when things seemed to be turning around. Who did he think he was anyway?
    William Henry Harper. “’But my friends call me Will,’” she imitated, twisting her nose in distaste.
    Torn between her tears and fury, she had Googled William Henry Harper as soon as she was off the phone with Frannie. She didn’t find out much about him, aside from the fact that he was some sort of billionaire playboy. Not that the money was his—his father had earned it through his company, and Will was just set to inherit it. But that didn’t matter—he had the money, and according to one Morgan Cummings, he also had the women looking for a piece of the action. He clearly didn’t know about things like punctuality, or accepting a degrading job just to get by.
    Alexa had witnessed first-hand his arrogance and flippancy, and it wasn’t a surprise that he used all women the way he had used her. She couldn’t stand people who used money to solve every problem, and William Henry Harper was the poster child for that lifestyle.
    She had half a mind to call up Morgan Cummings right then and give her an exclusive on the billionaire son, but as angry as she was, it just wasn’t her style. She didn’t care much for revenge; she didn’t want to be one of those girls who needed to take down somebody that had done her wrong. Sure, she had been fired and had her last paycheck docked thanks to the spoiled groceries and car repairs, but wasn’t it her fault, too?
    After all, she could have forced Will to get out. She could’ve just parked the car and let the paparazzi surround them, letting him deal with his troubles on his own. She could’ve walked away from him at the grocery store, refusing to engage with him. Why hadn’t she?
    Because she was charmed by his good looks. That’s why she had put up with all his crap, masquerading as his friend for all those cameras. She hated to admit it, but she’d had fun in that spotlight, even if it was only for five minutes of