Free One Night With the Billionaire: Book One by Cassie Cross Page A

in the bottom right, where the canvas on the bottom is dangerously frayed to the point where the corner of the lid is actually exposed.
    She needs to replace it, she knows this. Especially given the fact that a lot of her job is based on first impressions, and she definitely wants to give a good one. It’s just that the past two months Kaia’s had to stretch her money a little further than it wanted to go, and a new messenger bag hasn’t been in the budget. Not with rent to pay, and her need to eat at least sometimes.  
    “Someone would have to slash this thing or hit me really hard in order to make my computer fall out.” As Kaia slides the strap over her head to rest on her right shoulder, she runs her hand along the bottom of the bag, getting a feel for how weak it really is. Yes, she needs to replace the thing, and soon. “When I lock down this account, I’ll buy a new one as a gift for myself, how’s that?”  
    Janine nods, smiling. “It works for me.”  
    Kaia walks over to the floor-length mirror that Janine’s mother bought for the two of them, which rests against the wall right next to the front door.  
    She is wearing her favorite red blouse, one that has a draped front, and is tucked into a black pencil skirt that hugs all of her curves in just the right way. There’s a hint of a chill in the late-summer air, so Kaia decided to wear a pair of peep-toe pumps and give her feet one last chance to breathe before fall. She looks down at her red toenails and smiles.  
    “Should I put my hair up?” Kaia asks Janine, as she runs her fingers through the wavy blonde tresses that cascade down her back.  
    Janine slides off of the stool she was perched on and pads over until she’s standing behind Kaia.  
    “Nope. You look perfect just the way you are. You’re gonna knock ‘em dead. Pity about the bag though,” she teases with a wink.  
    Kaia can’t even find it in her to be irritated, because Janine isn’t wrong.  
    Janine gives Kaia’s shoulder a squeeze, then points at the clock that hangs above the mirror.  
    “You need to get going or you’re gonna be late.”  
    Kaia takes a deep breath and nods. Janine pulls the door open.  
    “Wish me luck.”  
    “You don’t need luck. You’re gonna knock ‘em dead.” Janine’s voice carries down the hallway as Kaia makes her way to the stairs.  

    * * * * *

    Thanks to a water main break, Kaia has to take a five-block detour on her way to the subway, and she winds up missing her train. That should be a clue that this morning isn’t going to go quite the way she hopes. Still, she holds on to naive optimism that it’s just a small wrinkle in what will otherwise be an incredibly smooth and positive day.  
    Her subway ride proves her wrong.  
    She’s stuck on an overcrowded train, sandwiched between two really tall men, one of whom is transporting a large, pointy metal statue of what looks like it’s supposed to be a guitar.  
    It’s not the strangest thing she’s seen in New York City by far, but in a minute she’ll be wishing it didn’t exist.  
    When the train banks a curve, the handle of the guitar gets caught in the frayed threads that surround the hole on the bottom of Kaia’s bag, ripping it clean open. Thankfully, she somehow manages to catch her laptop before it shatters on the floor.  
    The owner of the deathtrap rolls his eyes at her when Kaia shows him the destruction his sculpture has wrought on her bag. Irritated, she slides her wallet and favorite pen out of one of the side pockets, and puts them in her pocket. She throws the useless scrap of canvas in a trash can as she exits the subway, feeling more than a little dejected.  
    With her laptop cradled against her chest, Kaia makes her way through the onslaught of morning commuters trying to get to their offices on time. She weaves in and out of the foot traffic, narrowly avoiding any and everyone, because the last thing she wants is for her laptop to become