Playing Dirty (Billionaire Playboys #1) Read Online Tory Baker

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Billionaire Playboys Series by Tory Baker
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Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
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“Yes, Father.” I smirk, knowing it pisses Ezra off when I say something to that effect. I know how to dig at my friend and thoroughly enjoy doing so every chance I get.

FOUR

Nessa

Too many glasses of champagne later, which is definitely not my usual drink, heels discarded, and the charity event finally winding down, and The Met is quiet, thank goodness. The only people left are the caterers and cleaning crew. I’d like to say I’m helping them. The sad fact is I’m not, instead pouring over the numbers we brought in, analyzing what did the best so we can cut the smaller stuff out next year and give our audience what they want. Usually, this would be Mom’s job, but Dad asked if he could whisk her away, saying if he didn’t get real food in her stomach soon, she was going to gnaw off her arm. I completely understand that sentiment. My grinder sandwich is slowly leaving my system. With the way the extra dry yet super sweet champagne is sitting in my stomach, I’ll need food, water, and aspirin in my body, and soon like.

“We’re done, Miss Taylor. The food that was leftover was sent to the shelter like you requested,” Marni, the owner of the catering business, lets me know. Last year, it came to our attention how much food was still being thrown away after we allowed workers for the event to take what they wanted. So much was left, enough to feed at least fifty plus people. This year, Mom and I found a shelter not far from The Met and asked Marni to make sure it was delivered while still warm so it wouldn’t spoil.

“Thank you. We truly appreciate your hard work,” I tell her, even if I still think the food isn’t worth the price we pay.

“Always a pleasure. Your mom took care of the invoice. See you next time.” Then Marni’s off without waiting for a reply. I sit back, the laptop in front of me, my eyes happy with the numbers I’m seeing. In no time at all, there will be a lot to help families who desperately need it. Money for things like hotel rooms, service animals to bring happiness to a child’s eyes, financial support, and a new wing to expand on the hospital. Which is sad in itself, having to expand a hospital for pediatric oncology. It won’t stop there, though; my parents want to do more in any area of pediatric care, and I’m going to help them every step of the way. I close my laptop, ready to call it a night before it’s too late to order a car. It doesn’t take me long to pack up my things, and since the caterer is gone, there’s no reason to stay. The cleaning service we hired has handled our events before, as well as a plethora of others. I slide my feet back into my high heels, my body protesting at the thought of walking, immensely. It’s as if all of the adrenaline from tonight is starting to drain, and I’m left feeling bone tired.

I grab my oversized shoulder tote that holds everything I could possibly need, minus a pair of flats—rookie move on my part—have my phone in hand to pull up the app to order a car, and head down, blissfully unaware as I walk out the doors to the building. Home, that’s where I want to be and I’m bound and determine to get my to my studio apartment that is in walking distance of Central Park. Believe me, when I scoped the place out after graduating from nursing school, I was tempted to take my parents up on their offer to upgrade to a different building, one that had a small balcony to sit outside and drink a cup of coffee on the days I’m not working nights. I didn’t, though. I held firm in saying no. My parents may be billionaires, but that’s not my money, and while yes, I have a trust, and investing in real estate would be the best way to utilize it, I wanted to do this on my own. The only thing I did allow them to help me with was furnishing a few things and the deposit, promising to pay it back. Mom and Dad ignored my comment and told me I did enough, made them proud, not asking for any and all handouts. They put money aside for my schooling at a young age. Going away to an out-of-state college wasn’t something I wanted, a homebody through and through, and to be away from my parents? No freaking way. So, I stayed put, lived at home, did what I wanted with Millie next to me, only she wasn’t in nursing school. Millie preferred a different avenue, took classes for business while working at a bookstore that has a coffee shop attached to it in the hopes that one day, the owners will sell it to her.


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