Pretty Woman: Mia (The Billionaire Bachelor Series Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  DEDICATION

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  EXCERPT OF NIKKI: BOOK THREE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Pretty Woman

  The Billionaire Bachelor Series

  MIA

  Book Two

  JAMIE BROOK

  THOMPSON

  Mia © 2016, Jamie Brook Thompson

  All rights reserved

  The book contained herein constitutes a copyrighted work and may not be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, or stored in or introduced into an information storage and retrieval system in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 978-1539326274

  ISBN-10: 1539326276

  Editing by RVP The Man Editing, [email protected]

  Editing by Lovenia Stam APRN, Love Editing and Proofreading

  Editing by Amber Williams Editing

  Cover design by Jamie Brook Thompson

  Interior book design by Bob Houston eBook Formatting

  DEDICATION

  To Ben and Christina Moa.

  The real life inspiration for romance! Kick butt Ben!

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To the real Pretty Women that I share my passion of writing with!

  You know who you are.

  Thank you ladies!

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Y

  o, I’m looking for a date,” I say to the broad behind the desk. She’s more of the hooker type than I expected from Joey’s referral, so I ain’t real sure about the girls she’s trying to sell. “Is this the place a guy can come in to get a date?”

  “Ah, yes, Misère, you have come to the right place. But can I ask you to keep your voice down. This is a private business and the patrons next door are under the impression we are a company that designs women’s shoes.” She smiles.

  “Yeah, I get it.” I roll my head. “Just makes it easier for everybody involved.” I can’t imagine if somebody got a whiff of The Death Tank needing to pay for a date.

  “Can I get you a cup of coffee?” the woman asks, still sitting at her desk.

  “Nah, I’ll take a Monster if you got one,” I say, checking the place out.

  She shakes her head. “I am afraid I do not have a Monster. I do not even know what that is.”

  “It’s a drink. In a can. You pop the lid.” I use my hands to demonstrate.

  “No,” she sighs. “I do not have one of those.”

  She won’t take her eyes off me. It’s uncomfortable, so I try to sit in the damn chair in front of her desk, except I can’t fit in the scrawny-ass thing. She laughs. I jut my chin like it’s meant to be a joke and start pacing the floors.

  “You are a big man.” She fiddles with some papers on her desk.

  “I’m a fighter.” I raise my arm, flexing the bicep while I straighten my stance.

  “Oh, Misère, I think I may have just the girl for you.” She spins her chair around and opens a heavy curtain to a tinted window where two girls are talking with each other. The place is kind of sexy with dim lighting. Kind of like one of those Victoria’s Secret dressing rooms.

  I stand up and lean forward on the desk to get a better look. “Can they see us out here?” I hate the idea of making a fool out of myself in front of a chick before I ask her out.

  “No, Misère, it is a mirror on the other side.”

  “The name’s Tino.” I hold out my hand. “You ain’t gotta call me that other shit.”

  She nods and politely accepts the handshake with her wrinkled old lady hands.

  “So how old are these girls?” I’m worried the tint on the window might hide their age like this woman is trying to do with her tight clothes that make her look as easy as a waitress at Denny’s.

  “Nikki, the one to your right over there is twenty-four.” She points to the girl with long red fingernails. I ain’t into stuff like that, but I don’t tell the broad that. “She’s a fiery one. I think she’ll suit you perfectly.”

  “And what about that one? How old is she?” I jut my chin to the taller one. She’s probably five-foot eight. Skinny, athletic figure. Not much on the top, but plenty in the trunk to get my motor banging. “She’s sort of white compared to the other one.” I point to the Latino witch with the red nails.

  “Ah, yes, that is my Mia. She’s brand new. Only twenty years old. You’ll be her first.” She plays up her eyes. “Mia’s a bit more American than Mexican I’m afraid. Is that going to be a problem, Tino?”

  “I like that,” I say with a giant smile. “The part where you use my name. And her age ain’t a problem with me, but I’m turning twenty-nine this year. Maybe she won’t like that?”

  “Nine years is nothing after you’re twenty.” The woman drums her fingers together. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

  I shrug my shoulders. They’re stiff from the overhead presses I did this morning. “I ain’t one to take advantage of a woman that young. I think you better ask her.”

  “Please allow me to go and get her.” The woman fans her hand. “She’s very mature for her age. You wouldn’t put her a day under twenty-five.”

  “It’s all good.” I try not to allow my lip to twitch. It’s a nervous habit. Shit, cool it, T. It’s a call girl. She ain’t gonna turn you down. I pace the floor like a kid in third grade handing the hot girl in class a will you go with me note.

  Mia walks into the room staring at her Nike cross trainers. I had no idea her legs were that sculpted. Shit, she’s good looking. My palms start to sweat. I stare at those legs and start to think of what she could do with them if we were sparring on the mats together. I’d totally let her get me into a figure four leg lock without a fight. I’d even lie there while her legs were wrapped around my neck and let her choke me out.

  “Mia, this gentleman has inquired about you.” The old lady explains.

  “Yo, I’m Tino.” I hold out my hand.

  She takes my hand and I look down to see if hers is really as small as it feels cradled in my palm.

  “You got small hands,” I say, and shake my head for saying such a stupid remark. Shit, man, don’t make a fool of yourself. “I mean you got nice hands.” Just shut up! I curse in my head a slew of words I wouldn’t say in front of a lady.

  She giggles.

  “I ain’t real good at this.” I chuckle to lighten the pressure. “Probably why I’m here.”

  “Well, Tino, you have come to the right place. Are you happy with the merchandise?” The old broad waves her hands in front of Mia like Vanna White does to all those letters on Wheel of Fortune. “Should we start filling out the contract? How long will you need her?”


  Mia stares at the floor.

  I cringe at how her boss is treating her like some sort of afternoon special. She’s a damn fine woman, not a cheap piece of meat. I ain’t into treating people like that. I feel like the old broad should be wearing a purple suit and heavy gold jewelry so it won’t be such a surprise when she makes us feel like scum. I’d throw a Flying Superman punch if we were in the octagon together. Well, not on a woman. But if she were a dude I’d beat her ass.

  Mia starts skimming her foot in circles over the smooth floor while she messes with a few dark strands that have fallen from her ponytail and tucks them behind her ears. I stare at her nice skin with that even California tan. It’s completely opposite of me. I’m wearing a long sleeve shirt so she can’t see all the tats, but I’m much darker.

  “I’m Mia.” She bites at her bottom lip, and I think it’s real cute.

  “He knows your name. Tell him something about yourself,” the boss barks.

  “I like to exercise.” Mia tugs at the bottom of her running shorts.

  “Nice,” I say, flexing my muscles in approval. “You a long distance runner?”

  She nods, and stares back at her shoes.

  “Maybe we could do some cardio together? My trainer tells me I need to find something to motivate me.” Following that tight little ass has plenty of motivation running through my mind.

  “Well isn’t that lovely. You can be work out partners.” Loud mouth in the background starts pulling paperwork from her desk. “If you just want to sign here. I can get things started.”

  “Yo, this shit ain’t working.” I raise my hand and point to Mia. “You can’t treat your ladies like cattle. I ain’t here to pick out a steak.”

  A burst of laughter explodes from Mia, but she quickly contains it.

  I turn back to Mia and put on my best gentleman face. “So I got a pretty big fight coming up and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?” I pause for a second because she seems dumbfounded. “It shouldn’t be bad. The guy’s a pussy.”

  Both women give me a funny look.

  “What I meant to say is that the guy’s not a real good fighter. I’m only getting in the cage with him to put more money into retirement,” I correct my language. “I got kind of a mouth on me. I’m working on that.”

  Mia scuffs the tip of her shoe on the floor. “I don’t really like fighting, but I think I could handle that.”

  “I’ll make the match quick. I just need somebody to sit in my family section. I get paid more if the tabloids think I have a girlfriend.” I square my shoulders. “You ever read magazines?”

  She nods.

  “They’re always rigged.” I shake my head. “But they pay good.”

  An awkward silence fills the space of the room.

  My phone starts to ring.

  “I like that song.” Mia says about my ringtone, and looks up as I pull the phone out of my pocket.

  Sully’s calling. I better grab this. Probably business. I hope that punk ain’t backing out.

  “Yo, I gotta take this, but I want to give you my number.” I reach over and rip off a corner of the old broad’s paper she has in the stack for me to sign. “You got a pen?”

  Mia searches her light clothes and ends up taking one from her boss.

  “This is my cell. You can call me for the details.” I scribble my number on the paper and fold it in half to hand it to her. “I’m kinda thinkin’ you and me ain’t good at this stuff in person. So maybe we can make things more comfortable if we can talk on the phone. It might be easier like that for a while. I’m probably gonna need you a few more times.”

  The boss lady’s eyes light up. “That will be great.”

  My phone stops ringing and I look down to see if Sully’s gonna leave a message.

  “Do you have a preference when I call?” Mia asks.

  I’d like to tell her I could handle that voice every night in my dreams, but I ain’t sure how all this works. Joey tells me the chicks don’t sleep with their clients. I’m good with that. It’s the awkward third party guest hanging over my shoulder that I can’t handle. “Just any time you’re comfortable. The fight’s on Saturday. So maybe before then. I’ll have somebody pick you up around six. I might not get to see you that night.”

  She gives me a blank stare. “I’ve never been to a fight.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll have a few of my boys take real good care of you. They’ll bring you back here after it’s finished. I’m usually not in the mood to talk after a fight. Most of the time I go home and go to bed. Is that gonna work?” I glance down at my phone ringing. You just won’t quit.

  “So you just want me to come and sit at the fight?” Mia turns to her boss. “Is that okay?”

  “That should be fine. As long as your crew makes sure she gets safely back to her car.” The woman holds up her papers. “Are you ready to sign?”

  I hold up my phone. “I gotta take this call. I’ll be back to sign the contract tomorrow. It’s nice meeting you, Mia.”

  “You too,” she says, staring down at her shorts.

  I rush to the doors, heading outside into the warm sun directly above me and slide my finger across the screen. “Yo, what’s up, Sul?”

  “Hey man, you get a date?” His voice is barely loud enough to hear over the loud beach music in the background.

  “Yeah, I got a girl.”

  “Who is she?” he shouts.

  I cover my left ear, trying to hear him better on the right. “Just a girl I know.”

  “Well I got some real hot ones here with me at Zuko’s party. I thought you said you were coming. I got a few women in nice panties that are whining you’re not here.”

  I roll my eyes. Sully ain’t ever gonna get it. That ain’t how I roll.

  “Yo, man, I gotta talk to you later. I’m about to get myself some cardio in.” I glance back at the building and wish I could see Mia’s tight bootie one more time, but the tinted windows on the building keep her protected. She better call before Saturday.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I

  swear I’m going to kill Nikki if she doesn’t answer. The phone rings for the fifth time. My heart pounds. Pick up. Pick up. It rings again. No answer.

  I hang up and dial again.

  “Hello,” she finally says on the first ring.

  “Where are you?” I clutch my phone, pacing the floor inside the mechanic shop. “Did you go and get Lucas?”

  “What are you talking about?” Annoyance plagues her voice.

  “I left you a message. My car is having troubles again and I’m stuck at the mechanic shop until the guy comes back from lunch to lend me a rental.” I raise my other hand to the side of my head as I’m talking because I’m so frustrated. “Why don’t you ever answer your phone?”

  “It’s on silent. I didn’t see it ringing,” she barks back. “And I’m stuck on the freeway in traffic with hardly any gas. I’ll be lucky if I don’t run out. There’s no way I can get to Lucas before you.”

  An angry huff rumbles from the back of my throat. “Great, I’ll just have to figure something else out.”

  “I’m sorry,” she sighs.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out.”

  “Why does he need to be picked up so early? Are those kids picking on him again?” Nikki asks. “I swear I’m going in there and pitching a fit if they are. I had a date with a lawyer the other day. I’m sure he’d take care of this for free if I asked him.”

  Everything she’s talking about is enough to boil my blood and she knows it. “Look, I said I’ll figure something out.” I hang up the phone and shove it in my pocket. Why did the transmission have to go out on me today of all days? I curse my twenty-year-old Corolla. How am I going to get Lucas? I take a seat on a metal chair in the waiting area. The greasy fingerprints on the water machine next to me only add to the stress of knowing I have a preschooler crying at daycare that I need to rescue.

  I start reviewing a menta
l list of everybody I know that could help.

  Isabella. She’s in France.

  Nikki. She’s stuck on the freeway.

  Teresa. No, I can’t stand her creepy brother. I don’t want Lucas to think he can go next door because I had her pick him up. My kid is never allowed to be alone with her creepy brother.

  Anyone else? I sit there and think. That’s basically my list.

  Ugh. Why is my life so hard? I would give anything to have parents that would step up and help. But that’s not reality. Which is probably why I got knocked up at sixteen. To hell if I’m letting Lucas suffer like that.

  I angrily thrust my hands into my pocket. A twinge of discomfort settles in my stomach as my fingers grip the folded piece of paper.

  Tino.

  He’s already had a background check. Passed off Madame X’s rules of conduct. And, I’ve sort of met him, so it’s not that bad. The desperate, single-mom’s justification erupts in all its glory. I sink deeper into the chair and let out a frustrated breath.

  My heart pounds before I dial the number.

  It rings.

  Just hang up.

  It rings again.

  How are you going to explain you have a kid?

  “Yo, it’s Tino.” His voicemail begins to ramble. “Leave a message at the beep.”

  I sit there and don’t say a word. Your son is in trouble, Mia. I shake my head to refocus. “Hey, Tino it’s Mia…” The phone beeps again and I know I waited too long to start talking. I hang up, refusing to call again and leave another jacked-up message. I’ll just have to call the school and talk to Lucas. Maybe I can calm him down over the phone.

  I lift my phone and scroll the contacts.

  An incoming call interrupts me before I can pull up the preschool’s number.

  My heart drops as I see the number flashing across the screen.

  Tino.

  I take a deep breath. Answer it before he hangs up. “Hello,” I breathe, barely able to get the word out over my racing emotions that almost get the best of me.