Jezebel |h.s|

Fifteen

Harry

This meeting seems to drag on, especially knowing that Isabella is sitting in my office. It's like my own unique form of torture, having to sit through a boring ass meeting not knowing if she'll say yes to my offer.

I was surprised to see her in the lobby of the building considering I saw her at the dance studio just yesterday, even more surprised when she told me that she quit Afterlife. Something big must have happened with that asshole of an owner to get her to quit. He's too much of a coward to fire her, he couldn't even accept that she dumped him. But now it makes more sense why I didn't see her at the club last week.

Finally Warren starts to wrap up his presentation. I'm sure he's expecting me to stay back with him afterward but there's no chance in hell I'm making Isabella wait any longer. Not even for her sake, but for mine. The second he asks for questions I'm on my feet.

"You got this? I have a one-on-one in my office that I have to handle."

"Uh, yeah, no problem." He seems a bit confused given he usually knows when all my meetings are, but he turns his attention back to answering whatever questions anyone has.

Slipping out of the conference room, I quickly make my way back up to my office, trying my best to avoid running into anyone on the floor that may have questions. There's always a chance Isabella left, which would give me her answer I suppose, but she had this look in her eye when I left that all but answered my question.

Sure, I could play this off as offering her money to keep her on as Ottie's beloved dance teacher, but we both know that's a lie. I may be extremely generous with my money, however I'm extremely picky when it comes to the women in my life. I have to be. Once you cross a certain financial threshold women get interested for the wrong reasons. Maybe that's why I'm so eager to lavish Isabella with my money, because she just doesn't want it. Even when she knows she needs it, she doesn't jump on the offer. I trust her.

I've never done this before. Being a 'Sugar Daddy' or whatever they call it. The title has connotations with creepy old rich men that can't get laid on their own. Not to brag, but I tend not to have that problem.

Maybe this is what I need at this stage of my life. I know I'm not exactly ready to be in a full blown relationship again. Why not just become a sugar daddy? At least until Ottilie's old enough to understand what dating is. I have plenty of money and my hand only does so much to get me off. It'd be nice to have someone to sleep with.

Before I can get my hopes up that Isabella even wants that kind of relationship, I remind myself that she very well may say no. And not only to a sexual relationship, but to the money as well. I have to be okay with whatever decision she chooses, even if it's not the answer I want to hear. She deserves my respect.

I'm relieved to see her by the window when I enter my office, a feeling of hope grows in my chest. When I close the door behind myself, she turns around. I offer a quick smile before walking back to my desk. "Sorry, meeting ran a little longer than expected."

She takes a seat across from me, "Oh, that's okay. I can imagine you're super busy running a company."

A short chuckle escapes me. "Yeah, something like that." With a deep breath I settle back into my chair. "So. Did you consider my offer?"

She lets out a long sigh, slowly nodding. "Yes. I did."

"And?"

"And... If you could get the details of this contract settled now... I'm in."

My brows raise in surprise. Honestly, I didn't think she would say yes, at least not at first. I expected to have to sell it a little more, not quite convince her but try to strike up some sort of deal. I know I was the root cause of a lot of the recent animosity between her and her ex and I hate to think that I'm the reason she lost out on her main source of income.