Free The Billionaire’s Lust (His Submissive, Part Seven) by Ava Claire Page B

fork clattered to the table. Jakey . It sounded so familiar...and then I remembered another woman using the same name. Saying it in the same whiney, sing song tone.
    Rachel Laraby.
    “Everything okay, Leila?” she purred.
    I told myself it was a coincidence and that Rachel just happened upon the nickname because there weren’t too many variations for a name like Jacob. The only other explanation would be that Jacob lied when he said he wasn’t serious about her. She wouldn’t have had any other reason to have met his mother outside of being his girlfriend and during their meeting, overheard Alicia’s pet name for her son. There was another, less probable reason, but that was even more troubling. Rachel hadn’t tried to contact me or Jacob since Italy--could she have contacted Alicia?
    I pushed my suspicions away. It was early. I was hearing things. My nerves were playing tricks on me. “I’m fine , Mrs. Whitmore. Just a little tired.”
    She plucked another grape from the vine and popped it in her mouth. She chewed it slowly, savoring the silence as Jacob and I watched her.
    “My son doesn’t keep you too busy does he, Leila? I know he can be quite the slave driver--”
    “What did you just say?” Jacob growled, already up, the veins at his temple bulging.
    She looked up at him innocently. “What do you mean?”
    “Who have you been talking to, Mother?”
    I’d never seen him so angry, practically frothing at the mouth. Not even with Cade.
    She didn’t even flinch. “Sit down, Jacob. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
    I was confused by it all, looking back and forth between the two of them for clarity, but I found none. Every question led to another. My head was spinning like I’d just stumbled off a Tilt-a-Whirl.
    “How about you answer my question or you can get the hell out?” Jacob thundered.
    I gaped at him, flabbergasted by his fury, but finding my voice. “Jacob--”
    “Oh don’t worry about him,” Alicia said with a flippant chuckle. “We should talk about you and I , Leila. You’re going to be my daughter after all--and all I know about you is the scraps I can glean from Jacob and skimming tabloid rags in the supermarket.”
    “Yet another l ie,” Jacob scoffed, slowly lowering himself back in his chair. “We both know that it’ll be a cold day in hell before you do your own grocery shopping. There is no luncheon, is there?”
    She shrugged a shoulder, bringing her mug to her lips. “People change , Jacob. Once upon a time I wouldn’t have believed the man who called marriage an ‘arrangement for the deluded and weak’ would ask me for my mother’s wedding ring, but here we are.” She took another gulp and moaned with pleasure. “This is delightful, Leila. French roast?”
    I nodded slowly.
    She inhaled it for a second more before putting her mug down. “So tell me about yourself. Was it always your dream to be swept off your feet by a charismatic billionaire?”
    “I am warning you-- ” Jacob glowered.
    I gave him a tight smile. “It’s fine.” I poured syrup onto my pancake. “I studied communication, marketing, and publicity in college and graduated at the top of my class. Someday, I’d like to have my own business. Charismatic billionaire or not.”
    “I could tell she was smart,” Alicia said, dabbing the side of her mouth even th ough she’d only consumed a couple of grapes. “I’m going to use the bathroom then we can finish up here. I know you two had plans other than spending your morning with me.”
    Once her stilettos became a muffled tap, I whipped to face Jacob. “What the hell is going on with you and your mother? And Jakey --”
    “We don’t have nearly enough time to get into that right now.”
    “Maybe we should make time,” I hissed. “Because she’s dropping not so cryptic comments about us. About me . And I want to know how you could go from that letter I found to not being able to stand being in the same room as her.”
    His eyes were