The Mogul and the Muscle (Bluewater Billionaires)

by Claire Kingsley

I didn’t want to be that guy in the club—the guy who’s too old. Last time I went out to a bar, people thought I was the bouncer.

Instead of morale-killing rounds of layoffs, I’d saved jobs and hired hundreds of new employees. I insisted on paying well, providing good benefits, and making it easy for working parents to juggle their work and home lives. If I was confident about one thing in my life, it was what I did here.

He insisted on walking ahead of me into restaurants, and he’d even checked underneath the table before my lunch meeting yesterday. I was pretty sure he did things like that to screw with me. His expression hardly changed, but there was a hint of fuckery in his eyes. I kind of liked it.

At some point, everyone has to stop blaming their problems on their crappy childhood and either be a good person or not.”

“I’d be careful with that,” Nicholas said. “With the blender?” “Cameron modified it. I’m pretty sure that thing could puree a chunk of marble. Stick to the lowest setting.”

“She has a workshop off the garage. She takes stuff apart and when she puts it back together, you need goggles and a hard hat to handle it safely.”

“What else has she modified?” “The garbage disposal could probably chew your arm off, the electric mixer sounds terrifying but it whips heavy cream in about half the time, and I’d avoid the toaster altogether. We talked her out of taking apart the microwave, and I covertly got rid of the popcorn maker. Everything else is more or less normal.” “Good to know.”