Read Bad Boy Billionaire: F#cking Jerk 3 for Free Online

headed toward the door. Outside, I heard the door shut behind me and turned to learn she’d followed me.
    “Didn’t you have an appointment with Mr. Hardin?” I asked.
    “Yes, but it can wait.” She gave me a kind smile. “You look shaken. I wanted to make sure you’re all right.”
    “Thanks. I’m okay.” I didn’t sound okay. I blinked. It felt like the weight of the whole world had just landed on my shoulders. I couldn’t hold it up. My vision blurred. I sniffled. Dammit, I was going to cry. Out here. In the middle of the freaking street. Embarrassed, I dragged my trembling hand across my face. “I should go.”
    “Like that? Tell me you aren’t driving.”
    Ignoring the worry I heard in her voice, I practically ran to Harper’s car. My head was spinning. Literally. If I didn’t sit down in the next few seconds, I was going to pass out.
    Carrie hooked her arm through mine, catching me as I was about to sink to the ground. “Come with me. Can you make it up the stairs?” She motioned toward a building. Her apartment building.
    Blinking to try to clear the sparkling stars from my vision, I nodded. “I…I don’t know.”
    “I won’t let you fall.” Supporting me, she led me through the door leading to her apartment’s ground floor entry and up the steps. At the top, she unlocked a second door and pushed it open.
    Even though I was on the verge of a breakdown I couldn’t help noticing how beautiful her home was. The interior was full of period detail. Thick, heavy moldings enhanced every window and door. The wall was clad in rich-looking stained bead board paneling from the chair rail down to the baseboards. Above, the walls were painted a soft, silvery gray. Shimmering silk drapes bracketed the windows, and deep, layered crown moldings drew my watery eyes up to the ceiling.
    “Your apartment is spectacular.”
    “Thank you,” she said as she steered me toward her couch. “I love old architecture. They just don’t make buildings like this anymore. Sometime I’ll have to give you a tour. I did some of the renovations with my own two hands.”
    “Impressive.”
    “A drink,” she suggested, “what you need is a drink. What can I get you?”
    I wasn’t thirsty, but I didn’t want to appear rude after she’d rescued me. Besides, she was probably right—I probably did need a drink. “Water or pop is fine. Thank you.”
    “Pop?” She smiled. “Such a funny word for a beverage.”
    “It’s one of those Michigan things. I meant I’ll take a cola. Coke? Whatever you have.”
    “One Coke coming up.” She skittered to the open-concept kitchen at the rear of the apartment. Base cabinets stained to match the wood trim and paneling and brand new stainless steel appliances lined one wall; opposite stood a raw brick exterior wall, polished and coated to a high gloss.
    My gaze locked on the brick wall. “That brick is gorgeous.”
    “Thank you. I just had to showcase it. Do you notice the size and color of the bricks? They don’t look anything like the ones you buy today.” She fetched a pair of glasses from a cabinet and stuffed one into the small ice dispenser in the refrigerator door. Once enough ice cubes had clattered into the glass, she set it on the counter and raised an index finger. “Be right back. I keep my Coke stored out on the porch.”
    “Sure.”
    “How’s my brother?” Carrie called as she flung open the French door at the end of the kitchen, revealing a small screened-in balcony area. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Emmy, my daughter, misses him. You remember my daughter, don’t you?” Her question was accompanied by the sound of thumping boxes and tearing cardboard.
    “Yes, of course. She’s beautiful. I’ll tell him she misses him. He’s resting today. He spent the night at Silver Sage, helping with the animals.” After a beat, I added, “Please, don’t go to any trouble. If you have to move a bunch of things to get to the Coke, I’m good with