Enthralled by a Billionaire by Lexi Jordan

Emma stood in front of the
Art building with a double mocha latte rattling in her hand. The
first day of school set the pace for the entire year. Her freshman
year of high school had been a disaster all
because she made a poor first impression on the new kids she met.
She'd worn old clothes handed down from her brother. Her hair had
been in a plain pony tail and she hadn't bothered with make-up. The
girls from neighboring middle schools shunned her on the first day,
and the few friends she'd had in middle school followed their lead.
Freshman year was incredibly lonely for her. The following summer
she got a part time job so she could buy some name-brand clothes.
She spent the summer flipping through fashion magazines, learning
how to do make-up and studying the lives of celebrities she
couldn't have cared less about and it worked. Sophomore year she
was accepted into the pack, and while she was never popular, she at
least wasn't unpopular.
    College was a new start and Emma was
determined not to repeat the mistakes of the past. She and Reggie,
her stylist and personal shopper, picked out her entire wardrobe
for school. She decided on a style of simple, comfortable clothes
that were tasteful and expensive. For her first day she wore a
pleated skirt, with a matching jacket and wedged sandals. She had
Casey, her make-up artist, teach her how to airbrush on her
foundation. Never again would people judge Emma for not having much
money, Dylan had seen to that.
    Emma braced herself and entered the
air-conditioned building. She had no trouble finding her class—a
studio on the top floor. At the head of the room was the teacher’s
desk and the rest of the room was filled with easels set up in a
half moon facing the desk. Long tables ran along the wall under the
large windows where light poured in.
    A man that Emma recognized as Clay
Forrester, the famous artist and teacher of the most important
class she'd ever take, rose from his desk and walked towards her
extending his hand, "Ms. Cobb? I'm Clay Forrester, it's a pleasure
to..."
    Emma's wedged sandal scuffed across
the linoleum floor. Such a small thing, not even a trip really. She
regained her balance almost immediately, but that small jerk was
enough. The contents of her cup knocked off the no-spill top and
went flying through the air, leaving a brown strip down the face
and chest of her idol.
    "Oh my God. I'm so sorry." Emma
dropped the cup and began rubbing her double mocha latte up and
down Mr. Forrester's chest as if her hand could somehow soak up the
mess she'd made.
    Mr. Forrester took a step back,
shaking off what liquid he could. "It's fine Ms. Cobb. I'll just go
borrow something to wear." He turned to the class which was a
mixture of people trying to hide their laughing and those who
laughed without trying to hide it. "I'll be right back. Why don't
you take a seat Ms. Cobb."
    Emma picked the stool in the furthest
corner of the room. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and
vanish. A dark haired girl with purple highlights, goth makeup, and
an eyebrow piercing leaned over to her and said, "Wow Princess, I
bet this is the worst day of your life."
    While not the worst, it definitely had
reached the top ten. "Princess?"
    "Yeah, did your dad discover oil or
something in his backyard?"
    Emma's brow furrowed. "No, my father's
a farmer."
    "Yeah, right. More like CEO of
Monsanto. Who do you think you're fooling? I can tell you're a
freshmen because you have that new freshman smell, yet you're in
one of the most advanced classes at the University. The rest of us
had to present a portfolio and interview to be in this class, but
Clay doesn't know you, which means you didn't have to interview.
What happened? Did Daddy write a fat check and get you in
here?"
    While the rest of her classes were in
the 100s, this one was 478, Emma assumed it had something with it
not being a general studies class like Math or English, she had no
clue the kind of strings Dylan had pulled for her.
    "I