Read Online Billion Dollar Bastard: An Alpha Male Step Brother Billionaire Romance by Helen Lucas - Free Book Online
Authors: Helen Lucas
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is shining, and the last of the leaves are just barely hanging onto the trees before winter sets in. This is a great time of year, and it’s my pleasure to announce some truly great news with you.”
He flipped a page in his briefing packet. I knew the page he flipped to well. It was the page that outlined the talking points that Anthony was to address. Nicholas had sent them over two days ago.
“Kyle Stone is one of America’s most successful entrepreneurs and, I think, one of its most socially conscious thinkers. You can imagine my delight when, earlier this year, he approached the department, hoping to support the work we do and especially research into American literature. Well, I told him—we’re always happy to have a few more research grants. Hell, if he’d like to bankroll a professorship, we wouldn’t say no to that.”
Chuckles ran through the auditorium.
“But no, Kyle went above and beyond even that. Not only am I proud to announce the Stone Research Grant, which offers $5,000 for summer research in the area of American literature—and we’ve got ten of those to give out every year, and not only do I get to announce the Kyle Stone Endowed Chair of 19 th Century American Literature and Women’s Studies, a position to which we are appointing our very own Karen O’Lowry—“
A few students whooped for Karen. I felt her squirm in her seat next to me.
“—I always get to announce the Silliman College American Studies Fellowship: ten full-scholarships each year to award to students committed to majoring in American Studies or English literature with a focus on women’s literature literature.”
The auditorium burst into applause. I took a little bow in my seat. I’m sure the representatives from other academic departments were going through their calculations as Anthony spoke, trying to figure out how much money I had committed to them, trying to figure out if they could bleed anything else from me. Just let them try.
“Now, I’d like to give Mr. Kyle Stone the floor to say a few words.”
More applause followed me as I stepped up to the podium. Anthony grasped my hand once again.
“How’d I do?” he whispered, so low that the microphone couldn’t pick it up.
“Perfect. I’m so glad we met earlier this year, and not twenty minutes ago,” I replied with a grin.
“As am I. Your PR man is real slick.”
“He’s the best in the business,” I said, patting the old professor on the shoulder as he limped back to his seat. I glanced out of the corner of my eye and saw Karen’s face looking a little hurt and a little confused.
Of course, she expected to be invited to speak. But no, darling, this is part of my plan and you’re not supposed to be mentioned. I save your job, but no one’s supposed to think about that. It might be your passion that we’re honoring today, but the news story here—the one that the journalists I’m now able to spy in the front row are going to write up for tomorrow’s papers—is that the badboy billionaire has gone gold.
“Well, I have to say,” I began smoothly, pulling the microphone close to my lips. “It’s been too long since I’ve been back here at Silliman. Boola boola boola!”
I pumped my first in the air, and the football chant was returned by the crowd, half-seriously: this wasn’t really the athletic set. But that’s all right.
“When Anthony and I met earlier this year—actually, buddy, you had that wrong: we met at Bill Clinton’s inauguration, when Maya Angelou was doing the reading—you probably don’t remember me, since I was just a pipsqueak back then—“
This was a complete lie, but Anthony smiled and pretended like he knew what I was talking about. Good man. Karen had a good boss.
“I knew I wanted to support the arts, and literature especially, since it’s all been so important to me. Now, most of the reading I do these days is in the
He flipped a page in his briefing packet. I knew the page he flipped to well. It was the page that outlined the talking points that Anthony was to address. Nicholas had sent them over two days ago.
“Kyle Stone is one of America’s most successful entrepreneurs and, I think, one of its most socially conscious thinkers. You can imagine my delight when, earlier this year, he approached the department, hoping to support the work we do and especially research into American literature. Well, I told him—we’re always happy to have a few more research grants. Hell, if he’d like to bankroll a professorship, we wouldn’t say no to that.”
Chuckles ran through the auditorium.
“But no, Kyle went above and beyond even that. Not only am I proud to announce the Stone Research Grant, which offers $5,000 for summer research in the area of American literature—and we’ve got ten of those to give out every year, and not only do I get to announce the Kyle Stone Endowed Chair of 19 th Century American Literature and Women’s Studies, a position to which we are appointing our very own Karen O’Lowry—“
A few students whooped for Karen. I felt her squirm in her seat next to me.
“—I always get to announce the Silliman College American Studies Fellowship: ten full-scholarships each year to award to students committed to majoring in American Studies or English literature with a focus on women’s literature literature.”
The auditorium burst into applause. I took a little bow in my seat. I’m sure the representatives from other academic departments were going through their calculations as Anthony spoke, trying to figure out how much money I had committed to them, trying to figure out if they could bleed anything else from me. Just let them try.
“Now, I’d like to give Mr. Kyle Stone the floor to say a few words.”
More applause followed me as I stepped up to the podium. Anthony grasped my hand once again.
“How’d I do?” he whispered, so low that the microphone couldn’t pick it up.
“Perfect. I’m so glad we met earlier this year, and not twenty minutes ago,” I replied with a grin.
“As am I. Your PR man is real slick.”
“He’s the best in the business,” I said, patting the old professor on the shoulder as he limped back to his seat. I glanced out of the corner of my eye and saw Karen’s face looking a little hurt and a little confused.
Of course, she expected to be invited to speak. But no, darling, this is part of my plan and you’re not supposed to be mentioned. I save your job, but no one’s supposed to think about that. It might be your passion that we’re honoring today, but the news story here—the one that the journalists I’m now able to spy in the front row are going to write up for tomorrow’s papers—is that the badboy billionaire has gone gold.
“Well, I have to say,” I began smoothly, pulling the microphone close to my lips. “It’s been too long since I’ve been back here at Silliman. Boola boola boola!”
I pumped my first in the air, and the football chant was returned by the crowd, half-seriously: this wasn’t really the athletic set. But that’s all right.
“When Anthony and I met earlier this year—actually, buddy, you had that wrong: we met at Bill Clinton’s inauguration, when Maya Angelou was doing the reading—you probably don’t remember me, since I was just a pipsqueak back then—“
This was a complete lie, but Anthony smiled and pretended like he knew what I was talking about. Good man. Karen had a good boss.
“I knew I wanted to support the arts, and literature especially, since it’s all been so important to me. Now, most of the reading I do these days is in the
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