Prickly Romance: Single Dad AMBW (Billionaire Dads)

SAZUKI

I scan the office the moment I walk in. The receptionist jumps to her feet and dips her head in greeting.

I wave a hand to her, a silent indication to relax.

My eyes land on Dejonae’s desk. Apart from a computer and a small succulent, there are no personal effects cluttering the space. The chair is empty.

“Has she not arrived yet?” My voice climbs in surprise.

The receptionist sees where my eyes are pointed and straightens. “Miss Williams called HR. Apparently, she has an important group project today. She may not be able to come in.”

I fold my arms over my chest, my gaze hardening. So, the kitten is trying to run away from me?

“Please contact Miss Williams and let her know that she will not be graduating if she misses a day of work.”

The receptionist gives me a wide-eyed look. “Uh, yes, Mr. Sazuki.”

Satisfied that my order will be carried out swiftly, I march into my office and settle in my chair. From my perch, I can see Dejonae’s desk through the blinds.

Do not think you can get away so easily, kitten.

With a smirk, I open a document.

An hour later, the document is still blank.

Perhaps it is because I keep glancing up and checking Dejonae’s desk every few seconds.

Why isn’t she here yet?

Will she really not show after the threat about her graduation? How far does she want to test me?

Tension spreads across my brow. I call my receptionist. “What did Miss Williams say when you contacted her?”

“I don’t believe I should repeat those words, sir.”

I lean back in my chair, both amused and angry. I do enjoy a challenge, but I don’t welcome it now. Dejonae’s absence is a distraction and, with such limited time before the first students arrive, I cannot afford to waste a single second.

“Wait a minute, Mr. Sazuki. I just heard the elevator.”

My heartbeat increases in speed. I lean forward.

“She has arrived.”

“Thank you.” I hang up and poise my hands over the keyboard to appear busy.

A minute later, a brush of pink flits past my blinds. Every inch of me turns toward Dejonae as she walks in. Her hair is piled up in a bun. Rather than her usual shirt and jeans, she is wearing a dress and red lipstick.

Stomping around to her desk, Dejonae jerks out the chair and plunks into it. Her eyes shoot to my window. When she sees me watching, her entire body stiffens. She stares back at me, dumbstruck.

I smooth a hand over my tie and rise.

She whirls her chair around and hunches over the computer keyboard as if the monitor can hide her. I feel her panicking with every step I take in her direction.

“You are late,” I say, stopping in front of her desk.

“I’m aware of the time.”

Such insolence. “Did you and your sister spend the night making more calls?”

Dejonae backs away from me like I am a cobra preparing to strike. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I sincerely doubt that you are as clueless as you appear.”

She returns my smirk with a mocking smile of her own. “Mr. Sazuki, you made your threats and now I’m here. What was so urgent that you had to hold my graduation hostage?”

“Have you logged into the foundation’s portal yet?”

Her eyebrows hunker together.

I round the desk. “You should have received the schedule by now. From now on, you will need to be informed of all events. Things change very quickly from day-to-day.”

“Why are you coming around?” Her voice trembles.

Rather than answer, I bend over her computer and set my arms on either side of her. Her smell is a tantalizing mixture of flowers and cinnamon.

I inhale deeply before speaking. “You did not answer my question.”

“What question?”

“Did your sister make any more calls after me?” I wake the computer with a flick of my fingers.

Her eyes lock on mine, burrowing into my soul. She purses her lips. “No.”

I am stunned by the relief I feel. What does it matter if Dejonae called another man at midnight? Why do I care if she and her sister discuss prospects other than me?

“By the way, why didn’t you tell me you were listening?” She scowls.

“You seemed so deep in conversation. I didn’t dare interrupt you.”

“You should have hung up at least. That was a private conversation.”

“So I am to blame?” My lips twitch.

“I didn’t say that.” She rolls her eyes. “I just don’t understand why you listened in. You were practically spying on us!”

“Spying would mean that I intentionally left some kind of device in your room to overhear you. I did not.” I slide my fingers across the track pad. “You are the one who called me. I did not force you to keep the phone on.”

“You shouldn’t have heard us,” she says again. “That conversation wasn’t for you.”

“There is no going back, Miss Williams.”

Her eyebrows form a deep V. “You are insufferable.”

I blink, turn and study her. “You are inestimably bold for someone who was caught badmouthing the boss.”

She makes an exasperated sound. “Fine. I did discuss you last night with my sister in the privacy of my own home, but it’s not that serious. So can you forget it ever happened?”

“The perpetrator is not the one who should be making demands,” I point out.

“We both know you have better things to do than worry about employee gossip. Perhaps you could start scratching things off your ‘evil billionaire to-do list’.”

My chest boils with amusement. I don a thoughtful expression and rub my chin. “Is ‘Evil Billionaire’ better or worse than ‘Rude, Know-it-all Grinch?”

Her eyelashes flutter. If she were of a lighter complexion, red would be staining her cheeks.

I type her name into the company’s log system. “News of my divorce is readily available if you look. This is not a secret.”

She holds her breath when I turn my face to hers. I am close enough to see the moles on her skin. Close enough to brush my lips against her own.

“You hung up before I was ready, Miss Williams,” I inform her. “Since I am not your type, I was waiting to hear what was.”

Her nostrils flare.

I hit enter and straighten.

The tension between us is too thick. Like a child with a lighter, it is only a matter of time before it catches a curtain or a gas tank and explodes.

I slide a hand into my pocket and saunter around the desk, needing that space between us. Dejonae clears her throat, not quite meeting my eyes.

“I’ve given you access to the company portal. Prepare to accompany me downstairs in an hour. I will introduce you to the teaching staff.”

I turn away.

She shoots to her feet. Her chair skitters back. “Mr. Sazuki.”

I face her calmly.

Her eyes crash into mine with a surprising amount of boldness. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked about you or your relationship with my sister. From now on, I’ll keep my work and my personal life separate. I’ll make sure my sister does too. For Niko’s sake, I don’t want any misunderstandings.”

My smile melts when I absorb her words.

I feel the wall she is building between us.

No, it is more fragile than that.

A line in the sand.

A boundary.

“No apology necessary, Miss Williams. I assure you, there is nothing to misunderstand.” My voice is hard. “Niko enjoys your company and I have no problem with her continuing to spend time with you.”

Dejonae glances away.

I turn stiffly and march back to my office, slamming the door a little too hard behind me.

Dejonae rises when I stalk out of my office an hour later. Without a sideways glance at her, I keep moving toward the elevator.

She is smart enough to follow me.

The receptionist pounces to her feet when I turn the bend.

“Is everyone downstairs?” I growl.

“One person is late, Mr. Sazuki.”

Not slowing my stride, I shake my head. “We will start without them.”

I stab the button on the elevator.

I would like to believe that I am a man of principle. The world turns, not because of the dreamers, but because of those who are not afraid to dive into something until they understand every inch of how it works. Only when we understand something, can we deviate and face the consequences of trying something new.

I know myself well.

My values. My principles. My worldview.

I have never lost my equilibrium because of a woman.

Not even with Niko’s mother.

And I would like to pretend that Miss Williams’ subtle rebuff this morning did not bruise more than just my ego.

I cannot.

She steps into the elevator with me, keeping her distance as always. She is standing at the opposite end as if she fears that I will devour her if she comes even halfway close to me.

And with how unravelled I feel, I just might.

Her perfume fills the space, trapping me in her scent.

The tightness of her dress is annoying. It shows too much of her shape. The flare of her hips. The cinch of her waist. The length of her slim legs.

The very sight of her gives me heart palpitations.

It’s upsetting.

Distracting when I cannot afford to lose focus.

The Sazuki Foundation is the work of my legacy. I wish to help not just the deaf children in this city but, those across the world. With the MTB in its infancy and the music school yet to prove itself, I need balance more than ever.

I vow to myself that I will no longer entertain thoughts around Miss Williams, not unless they are strictly business related.

The elevator doors slide apart.

I storm off first and Dejonae is right behind me. Her heels click against the tiles.

Why did she dress up today? After our conversation, I am certain it was not for me.

Was it for her ex?

I shove the door of the conference room. It bangs open a bit harder than necessary. Dejonae slips in behind me. The door crashes shut, leaving a shot of silence in its wake.

Seven people occupy the seats around the table. The blue-eyed Caucasian at the helm is the one that sets my teeth on edge. His eyes flick around me and settle on Dejonae. He drinks her in like a dying man crawling toward a desert oasis.

It seems I am not alone in my admiration of Miss Williams’ outfit today.

I stalk forward and arch an eyebrow at the interpreter. “You are in my seat.”

“Am I?” Eyes still on Dejonae, he clumsily rises and clamors to where she is standing.

“Aren’t you going to sit?” I bark.

The room goes still.

I feel Dejonae’s eyes boring into me.

Time seems to slow as they both walk to the table. Dejonae takes the chair beside her ex-boyfriend. She sits with her back rigid, chin up, glaring at me through eyes that are ringed with thick lashes and mascara.

I lose my train of thought when I look at her.

Even though she is clearly angry with me, even when I’m inexplicably frustrated with her, the connection between us is not losing steam.

“Each of you were chosen,” I rip my eyes away from Dejonae, “because of your background in music and ASL. But this does not mean that you are equipped to teach deaf students. It only means you have the potential to do so.”

Dejonae folds her arms over her chest and glances away.

“Working with local schools and private academies, we have gathered a group of fifteen young children to be our first students. Think of the next few weeks as a beta program. Not only to test if students respond well to this environment but to test whether you have what it takes to teach.”

People shift around in discomfort.

Dejonae is the only one who doesn’t.

We lock eyes. She narrows hers in return.

I can feel the anger rolling off her body. It is there in the tension of her brow and the pursed lips that draw in like a flower when touched.

Did I call her a kitten this morning? I was wrong. She is out for blood. And I have a strong suspicion that I will be feeling her sharp claws the moment we are alone.

Why am I anticipating that?

Returning my focus to the very important task, I lace my fingers together. “I know many of you are accustomed to teaching your way, but your methods might not be best suited for your students. Which is why,” I gesture to Dejonae, “you will each be training with her.”

Dejonae’s eyes pop open and she sucks in a breath.

“Miss Williams will be responsible for analyzing your ability to convey the lessons of rhythm and tempo, which are, for a deaf student, more challenging to grasp than simply playing the right notes.”

“Mr. Sazuki.”

I lift a hand to stop her. “Any questions?”

“I have one,” Dejonae insists.

“Ask me privately.” My voice cracks like a whip in the room.

“I would rather we talk about it now before you make any more unexpected announcements.”

Her nostrils flare. Warning screams from her vibrant brown eyes.

My pants tighten.

I hate that her defiance—that magic flame inside her that never backs down from confrontation—ignites my blood.

A tentative knock breaks our stare-down.

A woman with purple hair and pale skin steps into the room. “Sorry I’m late,” she whispers, shuffling in while holding her head down and gripping a leather purse. “Sorry.”

“Miss Cottingham.” I check my watch.

“I know.” She cringes. “My car broke down and I had to wait for the tow truck…” Her gaze catches on Dejonae and she stops moving.

Dejonae looks equally surprised.

I gesture to the newcomer. “Miss Cottingham is my daughter’s instructor. She worked previously at the Terrence Hall Music Academy. She will be a head trainer as well, second only to Miss Williams.”

“Second?” Miss Cottingham gawks.

I slant her a sharp look. “Is that a problem?”

“N-no.” She licks her lips.

I motion to the table. “Have a seat.”

She takes the chair opposite Dejonae. The women give each other wary looks.

“As instructors, you will usher in the first phase of the foundation. In the second phase, we will introduce a learning tool to make lessons easier for our students. Miss Williams is assisting in the process of fine-tuning it.” I nod to her.

She seems shocked by the acknowledgement.

“Keep in mind that we are here to serve, to inspire, and to protect. How we perform in this first phase will directly impact the success of The Sazuki Foundation.” My eyes drift to Dejonae. “You are all an important piece. If you take your duties lightly, I will consider it as your way of asking to be released from your post.”

Her lips fall into a thin line.

“That is all for today. You will receive your schedules and information packets on your first students from HR. If you have any questions, you can direct them to my secretary. That will be all for today.”

Chairs scrape against the ground as the instructors leave the room.

I stay behind, keenly aware of Dejonae and her ex who are sitting closely together.

“We were cut off yesterday,” he says, looking down at her, “but I’m hoping we can continue that thread of conversation later.”

Dejonae slants him an annoyed look. “Not right now, Jordan.”

“Sure. I’m willing to go at your pace, Deej. I’ll do whatever I can to win your trust back.”

His voice curdles my blood. I fight the instinct to kick him out of my sight.

But on what grounds?

Because I don’t like his history with Dejonae? Because his intense pursuit of her annoys me?

He was hired for his skills, and I will not allow my… connection with Miss Williams to get in the foundation’s path to success.

I tuck my binder under my arm and prepare to leave.

“Mr. Sazuki.” Dejonae’s voice is sharp and heated. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Only if you can keep it to a moment, Miss Williams. You have a training session with the first instructor in,” I check my watch, “five minutes.”

“This won’t take long,” she bites out through gritted teeth.

Jordan glances between us. I jut my chin at the door.

He blinks rapidly. “Deej, I’ll check you later.”

Once he leaves and closes the door behind him, Dejonae stalks up to me. Gone is the sheepish woman who could barely look me in the eyes when I teased her about last night’s call. In its place is the tigress who lives just below the surface.

Dejonae throws me a furious look. “What the hell was that?”

“What are you referring to?”

“We did not discuss me training other instructors.”

“Did you not read your contract? It was listed specifically in the terms.”

She scrunches her nose. “Who would read that many pages?”

I can’t help a short snort of laughter. “In the future, Miss Williams, you should be careful of what you sign.”

“Forget the contract. I can’t teach other instructors.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” Her eyes bug. “Because that’s way above my paygrade.”

I arch both eyebrows. “You believe you are incapable?”

“I’m younger than all of them.”

I step closer to her. “Is that the problem? Are you concerned about age?”

She looks away from me sharply, clearing her throat. “I’m not confident enough.”

Her honesty surprises me.

Rather than tease her, I keep my voice steady. “After meeting Niko for less than an hour, you were able to convey to her a lesson that the teacher who had been working with her for months failed to convey. You have an instinctive gift for understanding what a student needs and relaying the principle with clarity. You have the patience to look beyond the limitations and find a solution. These are all traits that have nothing to do with your age and everything to do with your abilities.”

As understanding dawns in her eyes, I feel a sense of pride. She should be made aware of her talents. Not everyone can work in a field this demanding and maintain their sense of empathy and compassion.

“You care for people,” I say softly. “You make them feel comfortable and confident in your presence, which makes them believe that they can accomplish the task at hand. This is important for all students, but especially for students who may have been told that their disability will keep them from accomplishing their dreams.”

She pulls her lips into her mouth, but that cannot stop the pleased smile from crawling over her face. “I didn’t see it like that.”

I want to touch her cheek and let her smile unfurl in all its sunny glory. It is the hardest thing to keep my hands at my sides instead.

“You will not be working alone. Miss Cottingham has a background in Special Education. What you lack in textbook knowledge, she can make up for. And I will be here.” I look down at her. “I do not expect you to shoulder this alone.”

“Do you really think I can do this?” she asks hesitantly. And then her eyes flash with a self-conscious spark.

The vulnerability is gone.

Mistrust eases back into her expression.

That transparency of hers is both a blessing and a curse. It allows me to read every thought in her head and, currently, she is beginning to remember who I am to her.

The tyrant.

The grouch.

The enemy.

“Are you sure this isn’t you trying to set me up to fail?” She frowns.

I arch an eyebrow. “Do you think I have time to waste?”

She gives me another suspicious look, but with a strained smile this time.

“Dejonae.” I set my hand on her shoulder. Her mouth taunts me with its slight tremble. “Outside of my daughter, this foundation means everything to me. I want to see it succeed and I am doing everything in my power to create something that will have a lasting impact on deaf musicians. I would not jeopardize that mission.” My eyes harden. “For anything.”

“I believe you.”

My heartbeat picks up speed.

I’m overwhelmed by the urge to kiss her.

And it forces me to drop my arm.

“But, let’s get one thing straight.” Dejonae surprises me by moving closer and jutting a finger into my face. “You do not speak to me like that ever again. I don’t care how angry or frustrated you are. Secondly, if you make decisions for me without consulting me again, I don’t care who’s watching, I will let you have it in front of everyone.”

My lips twitch as I watch her flaring nostrils and tightening mouth. So small, so dainty, yet this formidable woman has steel in her veins, doesn’t she?

“Do I make myself clear, Mr. Sazuki?”

I tilt my head. This close, with her eyes flaming and her body brushing mine, she’s tempting me beyond what I can bear.

“We will see.”

Her eyes darken in silent challenge. “I need more than that.”

Heat travels from my chest to my pants. The way she looks at me, as if she would genuinely try to smack me into submission, is invigorating.

I’m stumped by the duality.

There are times when she is softer than a feather. Full of uncertainty and self-doubt.

A kitten.

And then there are times when the claws come out.

I ease back with a thoughtful look. “I will try.”

She opens her mouth.

I hold up a hand. “That is all you are going to get.”

Her hot eyes flash at me. Anger. Frustration.

Desire.

I see it pass through her, lingering in spite of her wish to cover it with her fury.

She is too transparent.

Her blessing.

Her downfall.

My stomach churns and I force myself to step away. Miss Dejonae might be unable to hide her attraction to me, but she has made herself clear.

I am nothing but her boss and the father of the child she has taken to.

She wants nothing more than that.

And I want… the same.

Dejonae stomps to the door without looking back. I am left in the silence of the music room, a pulse throbbing in my veins as I watch her hips sway back and forth.

Dejonae Williams is a problem, and I am not only referring to her sass.

So why is it so difficult to get her out of my head?

I leave the office and pass Dejonae’s empty desk. She has not been upstairs since the meeting this morning. It is alarming that I know her schedule in intimate detail and look for her even when I know she will not be there.

Akira meets me in the lobby. She is dressed all in black as usual, her hair scraped away from her face and her expression severe.

“I heard Niko will have her piano lessons here,” she says.

“You heard right.”

“With her old teacher?”

I arch an eyebrow. “Yes, Miss Cottingham needs only to tweak a few things, but she is a good teacher for Niko.”

“I am surprised to hear you say that.”

I slide dark glasses over my face.

Akira falls into step beside me as we walk outside. “I thought you would push Niko into Miss Williams’ class.”

“Miss Williams has school to attend.” Although today’s group assignment was an excuse to avoid me, I know there will be such distractions in the future. “She is not yet ready to be Niko’s teacher.”

Akira smiles. “You’re right. She is not ready to be Niko’s anything.”

I let her think what she will and climb into the SUV.

Akira glances at me in the rear-view mirror as she drives, “I spoke to your mother yesterday. She would like to come for a visit.”

I stiffen. “When?”

“She did not say.”

My mother had said nothing of the sort when we spoke last week. To be fair, she usually spends most of her time chatting with Niko anyway. The two are close.

“Keep me updated. Whenever she arrives, I will clear my schedule so I can meet her at the airport.”

“She is proud of all you are doing,” Akira says, slowing down for a red light.

Mother was the only one who voiced support when I announced I was moving to America to be closer to Niko and to build the foundation. Her quiet but rebellious nature got passed down to me.

My phone buzzes.

Ashanti: Thanks for your help yesterday, Ryo. We were able to meet the studio exec you recommended.

I tilt my head back in the seat and close my eyes.

Ashanti’s call seemed to destroy the fragile camaraderie that had formed between me and Dejonae during lunch at Miko San. What I overheard between Dejonae and her sister last night only confirms this.

I don’t want any misunderstandings.

Her words echo in my brain and I breathe in slowly, forcing the thought aside. This is the kind of obsession that can destroy a man. I refuse to stumble down a thorny path for a woman who is smart enough to avoid taking a step in my direction.

No matter how enchanting Dejonae is.

No matter how much Niko loves her.

No matter how much she takes over my thoughts.

The car slows in front of Niko’s school. I peer through the window. My heart soars when I see my daughter surrounded by her friends.

Usually, Niko is sitting under a tree, looking bored and alone. It broke my heart every time, which was why I found it hard to pick her up after school.

However, since Alistair invited us to the farmhouse and Niko made new connections, there has not been a day when she was alone.

Today, I recognize three of the faces around her.

Micheal, the older boy with the dark hair and somber personality.

Bailey, the energetic younger brother with the glasses.

And Beth, Max and Dawn Stinton’s bright and well-spoken younger daughter.

Niko has mentioned that Belle’s school ends at an earlier time, which is why they do not meet in the evenings.

Akira smiles softly. “She seems happy when she is with them.”

“They are good kids.” I glance at Akira. “I am glad to hear you acknowledge this without any preconceived notions.”

Her ears tinge red. “I did some self-reflection.” She pauses. “What matters is Niko’s happiness and safety. This has always been my concern. It is my wish for you too.”

Niko notices the car. She waves to her friends, who grin and wave back.

I open the door and meet her on the sidewalk. She wraps her arms around me and my heart rocks with love. My daughter is my sunshine. I do not remember my life before her and I have no desire to go back to a time before I knew her either.

I nod to Beth, Micheal and Bailey.

The children wave and smile happily.

“How was school?” I sign to Niko when she is settled with her seatbelt on.

“It was fun.” Her eyes burn with more excitement than I have seen in weeks. “I ate lunch with Bailey and Beth.” Her smile widens when she signs Beth’s name. “She knows a lot about cars.”

“Well, her mother is a mechanic.” I twist my finger like a wrench.

She grins. “That doesn’t mean anything. My mom is a singer,” she gestures. “But I can’t sing.”

“That’s not true. You have a beautiful voice.”

She rolls her eyes.

Whether she believes me or not, she cannot deny the truth. Niko rarely speaks, but the few times when she has tried, it is always an emotional experience.

If that is not the definition of good music, then I do not know what is.

“I told them about bowling,” she signs. “They want to come with us next time.”

“Are they learning sign language?” I gesture.

She nods. “They know how to spell my name.” Her lips curve into an even bigger grin. “And poop.”

My lips twitch. “How mature.”

She laughs out loud and the sound is like magic to my ears. Since meeting Dejonae and making her new friends, Niko seems to have come alive. It is beautiful to see.

Akira stops the car in front of the foundation. I help my daughter out of the vehicle and escort her inside.

Dejonae is in the lobby, talking closely with one of the instructors. The moment Niko sees her, my daughter bolts forward.

Dejonae hears her footsteps and turns around. When she spots Niko, she drops to her knees and spreads her arms. The two collide in the center of the lobby like a long lost mother and daughter.

Dejonae lifts her head and those expressive brown eyes lock on me.

Akira stops beside me, her lips tightening again. “Are you certain it is a good idea to let Niko spend so much time with Miss Williams?”

“They have a connection.”

“Exactly. And they have only known each other a short time. Imagine how close they will get in the future.”

“Niko has always been alone. She deserves to have friends.”

“This is more than just friendship.” Akira warns, “What will Niko’s mother think if she sees how close her daughter has become to another woman?”

“Ashanti will always be Niko’s mother,” I return gravely.

But, looking at the way Niko stares up at Dejonae, I realize that Akira might be right to feel concerned.