A Billionaire’s Game

Chapter 1

Grace

If this isn’t the best reason to celebrate, then I don’t know what is!

Alisa’s resounding declaration assures me there is no room for any back-talk. I guess, she is right. We really do have a good reason. Plus, Alisa is a champ at finding perfectly plausible excuses to celebrate, which makes her an excellent choice of not only a roommate, but also a best friend.

Isn’t it a general rule to get a good night’s rest before the first day at your new job, I chuckle, seated comfortably on the sofa to our two-bedroom apartment.

Oh, pish, posh, she waves her hand at me dismissively, crossing her left leg over the other, flashing me a broad smile. You need to walk in there with confidence, girl, and what better way to gain confidence than chatting with some cuties over a glass of wine.

Confidence has never been Alisa’s issue. Built like a model, with long fiery red hair and eyes the color of summer grass, she’s always been the epitome of a goddess. Flawlessly gorgeous. I guess, that’s why she spent most of her late teens posing for famous photographers. Then, according to her, she just got bored with it at some point, and now, she finished school and works as a vet assistant. Long way from a model just standing there, looking pretty.

So? Her question brings me back to reality. We’ll be there just in time for happy hour, have a drink and come back home by nine. The latest.

You mean, I’ll come back home. You might not, you fox, I chuckle.

Well, it’s not easy being pretty, I bear the burden, she laughs. Looking so effortlessly beautiful might be something someone could resent her, but it’s impossible to feel that way about her. 

It’s lucky the animals there don’t really understand what you’re saying, I tease. Or, they’d feel about you like the rest of us.

We chuckle some more, then I realize it’s well past noon. My plan is to walk past the building where I’m supposed to start work tomorrow. The idea already gives me strange, but pleasant goosebumps.

You’re lucky you’re so starry-eyed right now and I just don’t have the heart to tease you back, she nods.

I am? I wonder.

Then, I realize I already know the answer to that. This new job already feels like a brand-new love affair, something I’ve been searching for all my life. I always wanted to make my own way to the top, to get a job based on my own skills and expertise, as opposed to pulling a few connections, which my cop dad was more than able, and I guess also happy to do. ButI was strict in my refusal.

Instead, this new job opened up. I applied. And, the rest was fate. Although only an entry-level position, I feel ecstatic about starting off as an assistant to Tim Hoffman over at Visionetworks, that are considered to be one of the leading advertising agencies not only in the city but in all of US.

Well, I’ll leave that starry-eyed look for tomorrow then, I continue, getting up. I want to head across town to do some errands. Maybe even get some new work clothes. I need to look as professional as possible, and you know that’s not my to go look.

I know, she nods. Chuck Taylor will feel forever betrayed.

Oh, ha, ha, I pretend to laugh, throwing a nearby pillow at her, which she catches easily.

Maybe you’ll finally get rid of those darn sneakers.

You can keep hoping, I chuckle.

We on for that drink then? she wonders. Don’t stand me up now.

Fine, I nod. But I need to be back by nine, I’m serious.

So am I, she assures me, her green eyes flaring up at me.

Then, OK. I’ll be back in time to get ready.

Within the next hour, I’m out of the house, and I’m immediately overwhelmed by the sensations of life that passes by me. I’ve been living in this city my entire life, and yet, it seems that, in every new stage of life, some new, still unknown part of it is beckoning me to explore it. This is exactly the feeling I have right now.

The doorman nods at me, with a smile.

Lovely day, Miss Hensley, he tells me.

He is about the age of my father, and with that same endearing smile about him that makes you want to talk to him every time you see him. Some people are just like that. Magnets for other people. While some people are magnets turned the other way around, pushing you away.

It really is, Mr. Davidson, I nod at him. I’ll enjoy it while I still can, before it gets dreadfully hot in July.

He nods at me again, and we part ways amicably, as always. I walk over to my car, and the moment I join the rest of the traffic, I can feel everything around me. The hot air. The exhaust pipes churning angrily. The street vendors. Life keeps going. It doesn’t matter if you choose to halt yourself or not. It will simply pass you by.

I spend the following two hours shopping for new clothes and end up with a disappointing amount of only one shite shirt and a simple royal blue pencil skirt. For now, that’ll have to do.

I check my watch, and I realize that I still have enough time before heading back to the apartment to get ready for our celebratory drink. Suddenly, an idea pops to mind. I could drop by the building I am to start tomorrow, and just check the place out. Without much need to be convinced of this, I head there, making sure to park somewhere close. I was given a card that would probably allow me a special parking spot inside ethe building itself, but I didn’t want to do that right now. I merely wanted to enter the building, take a look around, buzz myself up the elevator, then down, then head back home. Just something to pass the time.

I feel something beckoning me to go in. I tap my blazer pocket, just to make sure I brought my newly issued ID. Then, I head boldly towards the building which seemed to tear the skies in two. An onslaught of people rushes at me almost at the same time, and I feel like I have to elbow my way through. Alisa would say it’s kind of symbolic. After all, I fought all those people interviewing for the same job and I won. I sure did.

Upon entering the building, the pristine whiteness of the walls around me hits me like the sun at the top of a mountain. For a moment, I feel like I need my sunglasses, but a moment later, my eyes adjust. The two guards dressed immaculately in black business suits give me a weird look. It’s my clothes. The official clothes I’m supposed to be wearing tomorrow are still in my car, in the new bag.

I whip out my ID. One of them frowns, but then nods. I have been granted passage into this marvelous place of dark framed revolving doors and marble floors stricken with silver veins. All around me, I can see polished aluminum, glistening.

I head straight for the elevators, pressing the button with my index finger. My red nail blossoms before me, and now I’m glad Alisa convinced me to get my nails done a few days ago. The door opens with a loud ping, and two women walk out of it, talking in a hushed manner. I go in, watching as the door closes. I press for the fifteenth floor.

I notice that the elevator has a glass floor only when it starts moving. And, I immediately start to breathe more heavily. Generally, I’m not a fan of heights. Especially when I can see my separation from the ground floor becoming larger and larger.

My heart starts pounding loudly. I can almost hear it drumming inside my ears. I watch as the numbers light up, counting to the one that would allow me to run out of this glass box.

Ten. Eleven. Thirteen. Just a little more. Fourteen. Fifteen.

Finally, the elevator stops. It takes two more seconds to open the door, and I’m already leaning against the wall with my left hand. I need to get out. I already see little stars at the corner of my eyes. Shit. I guess I’ll have to try doing this with my eyes closed or something.

The moment the doors slide open, not even fully so, I run outside as if my life depends on it. But I realize too late that because of my rushing, someone didn’t have enough time to move to the side, and I end up bumping straight at a man who was standing there.

What makes it even worse, he was holding a cup of coffee, which now lay as a soaked-up smudge on his obviously custom-made three-piece suit. My eyes widen with shock, as I lift my gaze to meet his. If I should describe his body as a perfect specimen of magnificent maleness, then I should definitely describe his face as the most handsome face I’ve ever seen.

I… I say, still in shock, but now I have no idea what to focus on first. The fact that he is Adonis in the flesh, or that I made this perfect man spill his coffee and I probably ruined his suit. I’m so sorry… I manage to gasp.

At that moment, he stares back at me, and I can see a shield sliding down, revealing the piercingly striking blue of his eyes. I feel even dizzier than back inside the elevator, and I’m thinking, that was exactly where I should have stayed.

I… I’ll pay for dry-cleaning, I say, realizing that I’m just digging myself even deeper here. I should just keep quiet, but his savage gorgeousness is making me even more nervous.

He looks down at his body, impressing a sense of unrelenting power upon me. He assesses the damage, and while his head is bent downward, I can see the sharp outlines of his jaw, his strikingly Roman nose and firmly etched mouth, that lay slightly parted at this moment.

I take a step back, feeling overpowered by his manhood, by his cologne, which seems to have entered my every pore. Without a word, he hands me the now empty coffee cup, revealing his bright silver cuff links in the shape of a lion’s head and a watch which probably costs more than what I make in half a year.

I take the cup in my hands. Only then do I realize that I have a handkerchief in my pocket. I quickly take it out, and without even thinking, I press it onto his chest. He doesn’t move, only lifts his eyebrow in surprise.

Fingers feel the hard core of his body immediately. A body that probably works out more than just the advised two hours every week. Even through the damp fabric of his clothes, our touch electrifies me. His brows arrogantly slash at me, and I immediately pull back.

That won’t help much, he tells me in a sharply intelligent voice.

I’m sorry, I repeat again. I… the floor… I got dizzy and…

The floor? he wonders, maintaining eye contact at all times, his voice all smooth like honey. That’s actually what makes this conversation so difficult.

Glass floor inside the elevator, I finally manage to explain. "I got dizzy and rushed outside.

Oh, he nods.

I realize that he’s younger than I first thought. Now, I see that he’s in his thirties, but those eyes seem ancient. Worldly. Experienced. He’s drawing me in, as if there’s a rope around my waist and he just needs to reel me in, like a caught fish.

Maybe not a good idea to work in a building where all the elevators have glass floors, he suggested. You look a little flushed. Maybe try sitting down for a minute.

I know I’m flushed. But that has little to do with that dizziness. It’s him, and I doubt he doesn’t know that, looking all civilized and outrageously gorgeous, but I see that raw animal clawing to be released from underneath that suit. His eyes aren’t letting me go, and it makes my brain shift into the wrong gear.

I’m fine, I nod, trying to regain my senses, and convince myself he’s just a good-looking guy. Nothing else. Thousands of those walking in the streets.

Only, that’s not really true. This man is unlike any other I’ve ever seen before. And, I’m not really off to a very good start, as I occasionally glance at the smudge on his suit. I want to run away, because I know I can’t handle the heat of his gaze much longer.

Get a grip, Grace. You’ve made a fool of yourself once. Just accept it and move along.

Suddenly, his eyebrow raises, and he looks like he wants to say something else. If there is anything else to say, that is. He glances behind me. Then, he extends his hand. It passes right by my ear, leading to his entire body moving forward. Closer to mine.

The smell of his cologne washes over me, invading my nostrils. My lips tense, pressing tightly against each other. I hear the soft pressing of the elevator button behind me. Just as quickly as he leaned over, he pulls away, leaving me with an intoxicating mixture of his cologne and the warmth of his breath which grazed my cheek.

The elevator door opens, and he raises his eyebrow at me.

Oh, I realize clumsily what he’s referring to.

I’m in the way, so I move. He seems to chuckle silently to himself, then walks into the elevator. I don’t turn around. I’m guessing he doesn’t either. I listen to the sound of the door closing, and then, I sigh with relief.

Great. Just great.

Chapter 2

Grace

When I enter the big, glass revolving door of the Visionetworks building that morning, the memory of the previous day’s mishap is still fresh in my mind. Of course, I had to share it with Alisa during our quick visit to the nearest bar the previous evening, and she assured me that I was blowing it out of proportion, something, I admit, I’m prone to do often.

So, on the way here, I kept reminding myself that what happened the previous day was just an accident. Nothing that would change my first day or in any way haunt me. I mean, why would it? That guy probably doesn’t even work here. He was dressed too nicely. Maybe he was one of those high-class clients. In any case, I can only hope that our paths won’t cross again. Even though I know I’ll never be able to forget the look of those deep cerulean eyes.

As I stand in front of the elevator, I’m trying to