Page 139 of Alphas with Hart


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It happened by chance...

Pia:

A lot of things in my life seem to happen that way.

My parents’ death, me joining the circus, and finally, meeting him.

Gavin Thompson is everything that I want, but I could never have him. He’s a billionaire who rules his world and I'm just a performer who doesn’t have control over anything.

We could never be a couple, but that doesn't stop me from wanting him.

Gavin:

She’s magnificent.

I’ve never seen anyone so graceful or beautiful in my life, and suddenly, I’m glad that I got dragged down to the circus with my sister and nephew. I may have never met her otherwise, and that would have been a tragedy because she’s meant to be mine.

Now I just need to show her that and I need to work fast if I want my little trick rider to stick around.

ONE

Gavin

I try notto grimace as the attendant in the ticket booth wraps a wristband around my wrist. The highlighter yellow clashes with the dark jeans and black shirt I’m wearing, and even though I know I shouldn’t care, it annoys me.

I shouldn’t be spending my evening at the circus. Not when I have to vet a new client for my investment firm, organize resumes for my next hire, and get through the quarterly reports for my current clients.

Time is money, and money is—

“Stop thinking about work,” my sister, Georgia, orders.

“I’m not—”

My sister narrows her eyes at me, pursing her lips as she gives me her signaturebullshitlook.

“It’s Friday night. You’re with your coolest sister and favorite nephew, and the billions in your bank account can wait until morning. I’d say they can wait until Monday, but I know I won’t get you to stop working on the weekends. Just take a breath and be here with us tonight.”

“I’m here,” I tell her, giving her my best smile.

She’s right. I know she’s right. I left my hectic life back in LA for a few weeks to hang out with my sister and nephew, so work will have to wait.

Georgia raises an eyebrow at me, and I hold my hands up in mock surrender. “I can feel you overthinking everything. Please, just try to relax. You need a break and this will be fun. I promise,” she says as she bumps her arm against mine.

“Right,” I say under my breath. “Fun.”

My nephew, Steven, runs ahead, mesmerized by the bright lights and sounds. Georgia runs after him, trying to corral her energetic son.

Steven is a big part of why I’m here. His dad is deployed overseas right now, and I came to spend some time with my sister and him and check that they were doing okay. They live on Hanscom Air Force Base, a little over half an hour away from Salem, where the circus is being held.

I’ve been here a week, and I love my family, but it’s been a struggle to trust others with my company while I’m away. It’s the first real break I’ve had since graduating from college and starting my own firm. It’s grown over the last few years to be one of the biggest in the country and now, at twenty-six, I’m one of the youngest self-made billionaires ever. I wouldn't say I’m controlling. I just… I know what I like and how I like it done. My multi-billion dollar investment firm speaks for itself, so clearly, I know what I’m doing.

And yet, here I am, weaving my way through screaming children, peanut shells crunching underfoot as we make our way to the games. I can’t remember the last time I went to a circus or carnival, and I try to push thoughts of work and my latest investments from my mind as I watch my nephew have fun.

His first stop is a classic—get the ball in the milk jug. It’s rigged as hell, but Steven doesn’t care. I smile as he scrunches up his nose in concentration, closing one eye as if he’s focusing on his mark. My nephew winds up his arm dramatically, then tosses the ball, only to have it bounce off the rim.

He tries three more times, to no avail, but Steven doesn’t let that get him down. He’s already focused on the next game, which just so happens to be the sledgehammer bell. Georgia laughs as he chatters away, telling us how much stronger he’s getting and how he can definitely lift the hammer.

I stand behind Steven while he wraps his hands around the handle, pulling up with all his might. The sledgehammer doesn’t budge. Leaning over, I grip the handle right above Steven’s clasped hands, helping him lift it. My nephew peers up at me, giving me a toothy grin.

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