Almost Perfect: A BWWM Billionaire Single Parent Romance

Almost
Perfect
The perfect man... and his child.

Kimberly
is a lawyer, and a strong, career focused woman.

Being
an African American woman originally from the projects, she's always
had to work that much harder to get where she wants in her career.

Unfortunately,
this has been at the expense of any real meaningful relationships.

Never
one to see the appeal of having a family waiting for her after her
long days, her life has been all about work.

So when
she's finds a new job working for billionaire Richard Damask, she
jumps at the chance to progress her career.

Soon
though, Kimberly finds herself physically and mentally drawn to
Richard.

On
paper, it seems he's the perfect man, and one she would happily make
time for in her busy life.

But
there's something about Richard she doesn't yet know: he has a
daughter.

And one
which any woman in his life would have to be comfortable with if
anything real is to happen between them.

When
revealed, will this revelation be enough to drive Kimberly away?

Or will
this 'almost perfect' man and his lifestyle grow to become perfect
for her?

Find
out in this hot new romance by Alia Thomas and BWWM Club (search us).

Suitable
for over 18s only due to sex scenes between a hunky billionaire and a
curvy and confident woman.

Tip:
Search
BWWM Club
on Amazon to see more of our great books.

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Contents

Chapter
1

Chapter
2

Chapter
3

Chapter
4

Chapter
5

Chapter
6

Chapter
7

Chapter
8

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Chapter 1

There
was a time when her grandmother wouldn’t have even been allowed
to enter a building such as this, and she was aware of that whenever
she pushed the door of Goldman & Parks Associates. It was a
humbling, but encouraging thought that hovered over her daily,
forcing her to achieve more than many her age and, just as
importantly, her color, had ever accomplished.

At
twenty seven, Kimberley Walsh had gathered more accolades and awards
than many of the older associates. Some were friendly, others carried
visible chips on their shoulders, but that was not important at this
point in time. Making partner at the next available opportunity was
the most pressing thing on her priority list and she was keeping
tunnel vision until she hit the mark.


An
opportunity lost can never be regained,” said her granny, and
she also held firm to those words of wisdom. She wanted to be ready;
to be prepared to step into the higher levels of her career with all
the grace of a wise woman’s wisdom.

Kimberly
knew she was being watched because the false smiles of her coworkers
seemed wider and more plastic than before. Her work load was
suspiciously increasing and more work meant a greater risk of messing
up. She rushed to finish, but not wishing to fuel her naysayer’s
fire, everything was scoured with a fine tooth comb.

Suddenly
dumped with the cast off cases of those who were constantly pulling
rank, she always seemed submerged in work that, yes, increased her
billable hours, but was forever steeped in complication. As she
worked on the third such case for the week, she sighed and closed her
eyes, rubbing her temple, seeking some form of ease.

The
knock on the glass door was unwelcome and before she could grant the
intruder entry, solid footsteps clacked across the hardwood floor and
only came to an end when they landed on the carpet in front of her
desk.

Cracking
her eyes open, she caught a glance of oxblood colored loafers
indicating she was in the presence of Mr. Finnegan. He was never the
bearer of good news, and the way his left foot posed in front of the
chair, she knew it would be particularly bad. Glancing up, she smiled
and greeted him, patiently waiting to receive the new boulder she
would be carrying.


Ms.
Walsh… taking a nap are we? Mustn’t do that in times
like these. You never know who may be about these hallways and I hear
Mr. Parks is especially grumpy these days. We wouldn’t want any
of these nosy associates to think you are shirking and get the wrong
message would we?”

By
‘nosy associates’ he meant himself, as he was secretly
referred to as the ‘message carrier’ by all who observed
his snake like qualities. He was carrying a folder and stuck it out
towards Kimberly after dropping his tale on work ethics.


I
have been told you are the best person for this job.”


Have
you, Mr. Finnegan? I thought all of us here were equally qualified
and worthy of any case in the company’s portfolio.”

Her
smile was sweetly laced with malice and he coiled back after picking
up the sarcasm in her voice.


I
am just the messenger Kimberly; there is no need to attack me. This
is an established client of ours, but we don’t have the time to
babysit as the Manson case will be going to trial soon. The details
are inside and you will meet with the client at his convenience.
Everything else you are working on must take a back seat to this one,
so get on it… please.”

He
softened his tone as he added the plea and Kimberly stared back,
stone cold. Taking it from his hand, she nodded and smiled and he
walked backward, issuing his customary parting words, “Don’t
screw it up Kimberly.”

She
quite often resisted committing serious bodily harm to many people in
this firm because she saw firsthand as a lawyer how horrid the legal
system could be, and she just didn’t have the stamina for a
prison stay.

Clearing
a space on the cluttered desk, she sighed yet again, and yanked open
the folder cover to dig into the pile of shit another rich client had
gotten himself into.

Sometimes
rich people could be overbearing, and no matter how much prestige a
lawyer had, the elite always tried to keep them under thumb. Lawyers
were fixers, protectors, and representatives, but no matter what
challenges they overcame, or transgressions they hid on behalf of
their clients, they still got the shitty end of the stick and clients
never learned their lesson.

The
person in this case was just that; trouble and more trouble. This was
the fourth time he was being investigated for fraud and the only
thing the law firm wouldn’t have to clean would be his
underwear. The situation was a mess and would get messier by the day.
As she started to jot down details of her plan of attack, the door
pushed again and another invasion began. This time it was Wanda, Mr.
Parks’s secretary. She was holding a stack of papers larger
than her torso and staggering under their weight.

As
Wanda offloaded them in the client chair, she began to issue edicts
and commands in her boss’s stead. Kimberly zoned out, and a
switch seemed to flick on in her subconscious.

The
days of this kind of labor are over. There will be no life left in me
by the time this firm is done.

Kimberly
tried to listen, but the harder she focused, the more she heard
nothing but muffled sound. An internal voice commanded her to stand
up and she obeyed. As the voice continued, Wanda stared at her in
shock. Kimberly had walked over to her small coffee table and
retrieved her coat and purse.

Nodding
in agreement with the secretary’s still inaudible words, she
walked toward the door, Wanda snapped.
“Where exactly do you
think you are going Kimberly?”


I
am going home Wanda and guess what? I won’t be back tomorrow,
so tell your boss to shove his workload UP-HIS-ASS!”

Whistling
as she walked to the elevator, Kim paused to say goodbye to the
janitor polishing the marble counter in the reception area. Stepping
onto the elevators and seeing the doors close was as welcome as a
cold drink on a hot summer day. As it descended, she counted backward
with the light above the door and when it hit ‘one’, she
took off like a sprinter hearing the starting pistol. Thirsty for the
deeper, more fulfilling things, she needed to keep running toward the
glorious destination labeled; freedom.

*****

The
conversation with his father today was unusual, but Richard knew his
father would keep his confidence. Dislike for ‘yes’
people was one of his peeves, but unfortunately when one had money,
‘yes’ people were in abundance. It always amazed him that
as ones dollar value increased, so did the fakers who liked to ride
coat tails and ass kiss.

The
sun streamed down and the coconut trees swayed in the background as a
well retired Robert Damask lounged on the patio of his beach villa in
the Bahamas. Imparting sage advice to his son Robert through the
magic of technology, he still marveled at his discovery of Skype. It
made him always available to Robert who had been burdened with the
task of inheriting his father’s billion dollar company.

Today
though, their conversation was not about the stock market or company
profits, it was about one of the oldest mysteries in time; women.


Dad,
I’m getting lonely and it’s killing me. I am finding it
so hard to trust anyone and I certainly refuse to attend any more
blind dates set up by John! That woman he arranged for me to meet was
so strange and I swear she smelled of garlic. I guess that’s
what happens when you go on a date with a gothic chef!” They
laughed at the quip and Robert responded.


Well
son, you just hop on the private jet and come on down here…
let me tell you, there are some fine specimens on this island with
figures like coke bottles and skin like caramel. I’m having a
grand time dipping my fingers in chocolate fudge like you wouldn’t
imagine.”


Dad,
there are some things you don’t share with a son and that was
definitely too much information for me. I am still hung up on Barbara
and the fact that she has moved on so quickly. I can’t find the
motivation to go out and find anyone. The women are like hounds after
me, but I’m sure it’s just for the money. No one is
genuine anymore.”


Richard,
the only thing I can tell you is to open your view a little more.
Maybe you are looking in the same places all the time and that’s
your primary issue. You eat at the Golf club, in there, it’s
either the stuck up Barbie princesses whose daddy have spoiled them
rotten, or the waitress who will screw you for a quick hundred. Your
circles are all the same; the gym, the school for Jasmine… all
the same spheres of people, it’s time for a change son.”

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