Tapping The Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires #1)(94)

God, I had never felt so cold, so f*cking alone.

I didn’t want to feel like this. I wanted the pilot to turn the plane around so I could talk to Kline. I wanted to forget that TapNext conversation had ever happened.

But I wasn’t going to be that woman who couldn’t step back and face the facts.

Even though it was going to kill me, I was going to be the woman who knew when to end things. The woman who could end a relationship with a man—even though she loved him—because she knew she didn’t deserve to be treated like that.

He had told me he loved me, he had touched me and kissed me in ways a man would only do when he was in love. But while he had been doing that, he had also found time to request to meet another woman. These were not the actions of a man I wanted to be in a relationship with.

For the entire five-and-half-hour flight, my mind raced. Every memory was a picture in my head, his betrayal scratching across the surface of each photograph and tainting it forever.

I was f*cking miserable, stuck on an old airplane with no Wi-Fi after finding out the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with was going behind my back and requesting to meet other women on the side.

If he did that knowing it was my best friend, what else was he doing behind my back?

I knew it was crazy to go in that direction, but who could blame me?

Trying to talk this out with him was pointless. I could only take so much, and a nasty breakup would push me over the edge. I was afraid of what I might say to him. Hell, I’d have to hold my breath if I was in the same room as him, because breathing the same air meant breathing him in.

And my heart couldn’t take any more.




I walked off the plane, my mind fogged with heartbreak and anger. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to curl up in the fetal position and sleep for forty years.

Pre-life-altering screenshot, I would’ve sent Kline a text message telling him I had landed, but I didn’t even bother turning on my phone. What was the f*cking point? I had nothing to say.

Eventually, I found baggage claim and grabbed my suitcase.

I had options. Either I could let this drag me down and turn me into someone I didn’t want to be, or I could find a way to get past this.

My decision was made and there was no going back to what we had.

There was no explanation he could give that would fix this, save us.

Steadfast in my choice, I hailed a cab and threw my bags in the back before the driver could even get out of his seat.

“Winthrop Building, Fifth Avenue,” I instructed without a second thought.

When he pulled up to the building, I tossed money in the front seat and hopped out, grabbing my suitcases from the trunk. It was afternoon and everyone would be there. My coworkers would be roaming the halls. Dean would be waiting for me to attend the meeting.

Fuck.

No way could I handle sitting through a meeting. I had to go in, do what I needed to do, and get the hell out of there with as little interaction as possible.

I was striding off the elevator within minutes. I offered a few small waves to Meryl and Cynthia as I passed them in the hall before ducking into my office. Leaning against the closed door, I shut my eyes, biting my cheek to hold back the tears.

God, I didn’t have time for a breakdown. I had about twenty minutes before Dean would stroll in, ready to escort me to the conference room.

I sat behind my desk and booted up my computer. My hands shook, and my foot tapped against the tile as nervous energy radiated off of me in unpredictable waves.

A letter of resignation was typed out at a quick, efficient pace. I sent a screenshot of the TapNext conversation to my email and printed it out.

And then I was walking down the hall, toward the one place I didn’t really want to be.

“Oh, hi, Georgia!” Leslie stopped me as I rounded the corner. “Is Mr. Brooks back? I forgot to give him a few messages last week about some meeting…” She scrunched her eyebrows, her pea-sized brain trying to remember. “I think it was important, but, like, I’m not really sure.”

“He won’t be back until tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Her huge mouth jutted out into a pout. “Are you feeling okay? You look, like, really terrible today.”

Wow. As if my day wasn’t already fantastic.

I didn’t even have the energy to form a sarcastic retort. I just nodded, because she was right; I looked like shit.

“Hey, do you mind going into Dean’s office and letting him know that I had to go home? Tell him I’m sick and I’ll call him later.”

He would be crazy pissed at me but would understand. Plus, I was betting on the fact that Leslie would ramble on and on about my haggard appearance. It was the first time I could use her obsession with being the prettiest girl in the room to my advantage.

“Uh…okay,” she begrudgingly agreed.

You’d think I was the intern in this scenario, asking my superior for a favor.

The second I stepped into Kline’s office, my heart clenched. I glanced around at the familiar surroundings, taking everything in. Knowing I wouldn’t last long, I pulled open a drawer on his desk in search of paper. My eyes got blurry when they caught on a photograph of us in the Hamptons resting on top of everything else. We were sitting on the porch, his arm wrapped around my shoulder. I was looking into the camera, grinning, while he gazed down at me, a soft, smitten smile on his lips.