by Nova Rain
I strolled through the park, savoring the ambient mix of scents. I loved how that patch of land had been managing to remain free of the consequences of urban life. Even during the summer, when most of those trees have shed their blooms, the smells of the city were kept outside its limits. In a concrete jungle, that park was one of the few breaths of fresh air.
Bistrot Monique Chantal lay at its riverfront edge. It was a small, wooden frame, blocking the view of the Manhattan skyline. Romantic appliques on its walls handled the illumination, coupled with scarce candlesticks on tables. A young man in a tuxedo welcomed me with a smile at the entrance.
“Bonsoir, madam.” If the food in that place was as good as his French accent, it would be amazing. “You must be Ms. Ava Briggs.”
“I’m sorry, have we met?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“We have been expecting you. Follow me, please,” he requested, ignoring my question.
“Hey…” I regretted uttering that word, the moment it flew out of my mouth. I felt quite a few pairs of eyes on me as we crossed the room. I didn’t have to look at them to know that they hadn’t appreciated something so loud.
I felt the smooth wood of the railing in my hand while we climbed the stairs. The staircase turned right, stopping at an open door.
“Have fun tonight, Ms. Briggs,” the stranger said and left me alone. I stepped outside, wondering what in the world Michael had been up to. A quick scan of the roof intensified my curiosity. Small, blue, red and green lightbulbs wired together were wrapped around the wooden railing. In the middle, was a row of empty tables put together without any chairs.
“Michael?” I spoke out his name, looking around me as I reached the first table.
“Over here.” I spun around upon hearing his voice. There he was, standing just past the doorframe, wearing his charming smile and… a blue uniform. The silver insignia on the left side of his chest was shimmering in the ample moonlight, a gentle breeze brushing my skin.
“Oh my God…” I whispered, my heart fluttering in my chest. “You...”
“Yeah,” he interjected, his slow, confident footsteps leading him closer to me. “I signed a contract this afternoon. A hundred-and-fifty grand a year, plus benefits.”
“That’s…”
“Hold your horses,” he interrupted me again with a hand at his chest. “Land it, sunshine.” He urged, pressing his index finger to his ear.
“Land…?” I spoke out, my face twisting into an expression of confusion. A faint buzz provided a hint. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught two, red lights flashing over the river. With the buzz growing in intensity, those lights approached the roof. The strong illumination revealed the shape of a remote-control, white plane, flying nearby. It circled around the building, before it aligned itself with the row of tables next to me. I watched on in silence as its tiny wheels bounced off the first table. Its second touchdown was much smoother, though. Those wheels were planted onto the wooden surface, the buzzing subsiding. Finally, the plane rolled all the way to the second-to-last table, until it was brought to a gentle halt.
“Thank God,” Michael muttered under his breath, moving around me. I started off behind him, a sharp buzz signaling the upward opening of the white fuselage. Little by little, it exposed its small cargo. It was a light-brown, velveteen box. Picking it up, Michael turned around and faced me.
“Ava…” He uttered my name, a big smile bursting upon his lips. “A while ago, I got mad at Jake for sending me over to your apartment. You were pretty upset that night. I was sure the last thing you needed was a visitor. But, when I got to know you, I realized I should have been thanking him. In you, I have found everything I’d been searching for: Kindness. Understanding. Sweetness. Off the charts hotness. And I can’t think of anything better than having all those things for the rest of my life. So…” He flipped open the box and went down on one knee. “Will you marry me?”
My mouth dropped open. I’d been suspecting this since the moment I laid eyes on that box, but suspecting is one thing. Knowing is another.
My heartrate spiked as my eyes thickened with tears of bliss. I felt a tremor in my arms and legs, struggling to comprehend what had been unfolding in front of me. It wasn’t difficult. It was just too wonderful to believe it.
“Yes,” I whispered, a tear rolling down my cheek. “Yes, I would love to marry you.”
“Phew…” Michael gave a short laugh and eased the ring out of the box. He slid it down my finger, the large diamond on top shining in the moonlight. He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, curling his long arms around my waist.
“I love you.” I let out one more whisper, circling my arms around his neck.
“I love you, too,” he confessed, squeezing my body tight in his embrace. “I won’t fail you, Ms. Posh. That’s a promise.”
“I know you won’t,” I replied, leaning back to look up at him. “That’s why I said ‘yes.’”
“You can’t imagine how happy I was when those bastards caved this morning,” Michael continued, putting some force in his voice. “I felt like I’d been given my life back. And it was all thanks to your ingenuity of recording them. Without that tape, I doubt we’d have gotten far. Sure, Jake could have exposed them, but that would have equaled professional suicide for him.”
“I’m glad I was able to help.” I assumed a soft voice, gazing up into his eyes. “So, what will you be flying? Domestic? International? Or both?”
“That’s entirely up to them,” he shrugged his shoulders. “According to them, it all depends on the workload. But that’s just a fancy way of saying ‘you’ll be flying when I tell you, where I tell you.’ I don’t mind. I’ll do it, with or without Jake. And I’d love it if my fiancé were to join me on one of those international flights.”
“You mean your real fiancé,” I teased him with a giggle.
“Yeah,” he grinned. “My real fiancé.”
“I’d love that, too.” Another whisper fled my lips. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“How long did it take you to think of all this?” I wondered, looking at the little airplane on the table. “And how did you do it?”
“Believe it or not, I, um…” He faltered. “I thought of it when you first visited me in the ICU. I said to myself: ‘She deserves something special; a proposal to remember.’ I booked the roof, three days ago. It wasn’t hard. No one wants to be outside this time of year. Jake flew the plane. I should probably tell him because he almost crashed. ‘Luigi’s’ roof has a clear, unobstructed view of this restaurant. That’s why I chose it.”
“Thank you. It was wonderful and very romantic,” I praised, wiping my tears away. “It was very hard for me to say ‘no.’ But here’s the thing. It didn’t matter where you proposed or how. All that mattered, was that you’d want to…” I paused and held in a sniffle. “To spend the rest of your life with me.”
“I do,” he admitted with a nod. “You should know Jake is proposing to Penny as we speak. I hope I’m too far to hear anything.”
“Oh come on,” I chuckled, playfully patting him on the shoulder. “She’s not that loud.”
“I can’t take any chances,” Michael maintained, a knock on the door turning our heads in its direction. The same man was peeking his head out, his eyes on my fiancé. “Go ahead.” He told him, bringing back some of the confusion. This one however, didn’t last longer than five seconds. Melodic piano notes filled the atmosphere, belonging to one of my all-time favorite ballads. It was none other than Bon Jovi’s “Thank You For Loving Me.”
His hand slid down my back, until it stopped at my waist. Not taking my eyes off of him, I let go of his shoulder, our fingers interlocking in mid-air. I smiled, feeling more moisture pooling in my eyes as Jon Bon Jovi’s nasal voice sang the first lyric. Michael led me through the first dance of our life together, holding me close, his gaze fixed on mine. In truth, I was lost in the dream that was my reality. Seagulls were flying overhead, the e
choes of their calls joining the music. Light breezes were blowing through my hair. I couldn’t get enough of the moonlight’s reflection in his eyes.
It was absurd, but the more we danced, the more I believed that this wonderful song had been written just for us, or at least a couple like us. In a heartfelt monologue, Jon mentioned how much his significant other had been there for him, every step of the way. Michael and I had been doing that since that fateful night in my apartment. In my misfortune, I had found a friend. And what a friend he was… Smiling. Eager to make me laugh. To help me have some fun, although I rebelled at the thought of abandoning my solitude. After he had lured me, it was my turn to help him defeat any notion of pessimism. Michael followed my advice, which gave him his job back. So, in other words, we had been showing love to each other.
And it was a blessing for me to have that man’s love, a blessing that I wouldn’t forget, no matter what we came across later in life. I would be his Ms. Posh, and he would be my handsome Captain, because he had found a way to speak to my heart like no other. His jokes, his amazing looks and his soothing voice would always remind me that I could do better. I had done better, because I had found him. Michael Compton. The man that made me laugh in my darkest of times. The man who conquered my heart, one night in Ontario.
Love Technically: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (The PREQUEL)
Chapter One
Three Years Ago
“You did what?” Diane squeaked, rubbing her blurry eyes.
“Office Fab is ready,” I announced, a smile of bliss bursting upon my face. “I fixed all the glitches. It’s not going to destroy anything anymore.”
“Are you sure?” She insisted, lowering her voice.
“I’m positive.” I gave an emphatic nod. “Sam helped me find what I’d been doing wrong. I spent all night at his place working on the software.”
“Good for you,” she praised, her serious expression staying on. “I’m sorry, son. It’s too early for me to process this. I’m going back to bed.”
Stupid idea.
I couldn’t help but think of that, watching her return to her bedroom. Diane wasn’t the morning type, and this was the crack of dawn. I was lucky she hadn’t thrown a vase at me. However, I could wait a little longer. I had all the time in the world to speak to her about this.
With adrenaline still flowing freely through me, I sat down on the couch. I pictured myself in a year from now. In a fancy designer suit, my feet up on the desk and my pockets bulging. There would be a fridge in the corner, stocked with my favorite beer: Corona. At the snap of my fingers, five, voluptuous girls in bikini’s would come in. I leaned my head on the back of the couch, feelings of calmness enveloping me. Boy, was that a nice picture…
All of a sudden, the sound of loud laughter had me pry my eyes open. Sam was sitting in the armchair on my left, in his light-green uniform, holding his stomach.
“Oooh, yeah, that’s it, come to daddy,” he assumed a deeper voice, impersonating me. “What the hell were you dreaming, man?”
“Hot strippers,” I groaned in a drowsy voice. “How long have you been here? How did you get in?”
“You left both doors open,” he chuckled. “Chris, I, uh…” he faltered. “I was thinking about that favor. I’d decided to talk to you about it after work, but after you left, I realized I couldn’t wait that long. You know I have a Master’s degree in public relations, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because you’re going to need a publicist and I want that job,” he explained, assuming a more serious tone. “I’ll handle your interviews, your public affairs, everything that concerns how you look to everybody.”
“Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” I asked, casting a puzzled glance over at him. “It’s too early for me to think about getting a publicist. I haven’t even started a firm yet.”
“I know I’m getting ahead of myself,” he admitted. “I just wanted you to keep that in the back of your mind. You and me against the world, Chris. Taking care of each other. Making sure no one harms what you tried so hard to create.”
“It sounds good,” I commented with a smile. “First, I need to promote ‘Office Fab.’ Do you have any ideas?”
“We’ll talk to my boss,” he suggested, his tone casual. “We’ll try to convince him to host a trial version of the software on the company’s website. Thirty days are enough I think.”
“Cool. Should I make an appointment?” I posed that next question, leaning my forearms on my thighs.
“You’ve got me. You don’t need an appointment,” he assured me, flashing me a bright-eyed look. “But it would be good if you came with me to the mall. Mr. Dinkins’s appointments start at 9am. We’ll have a whole hour to tell him about your software, instead of the usual thirty minutes his other clients have.”
“We have to go back to your apartment,” I claimed, recalling how I left it just hours ago. “I forgot…”
“It’s in my car,” he interjected. “Go get dressed and meet me downstairs.”
Without wasting another second, I rushed back to my bedroom. Changing clothes, I began to wonder how I was going to introduce my creation to someone who had no idea about it. Yet, it dawned on me that it didn’t matter. Sam’s boss had to be a seasoned professional. He had seen enough versions of Microsoft Office to know exactly what it was. All I had to do, was talk to him about the ways “Office Fab” was better.
I couldn’t believe how different I was feeling upon my return to that large building. Just eighteen hours ago, I had been ready to give up and perhaps apply for a job there. Now, I was oozing with confidence. I strode through the huge halls of “Web Vibe” like I owned them. In my heart, I believed that my time had come.
The elevator ground to a halt at the sixth floor, and I had the same feeling as the night before: anticipation, mixed with enthusiasm, and a pinch of fear. There was always a chance that Dinkins would fail to see the benefits of my creation. It was small, yes, but it was there. But, I wasn’t going to back down. This was by far the most important business meeting of my whole life.
“Good morning, Rachel,” Sam greeted the elderly secretary with a smile, not bothering to stop. “Is Dinkins in?”
“He just got here and he’s in a crappy mood,” she informed us. “Where are you going?”
“Trust me, he’ll be in a better mood within the hour,” my friend said, gesturing me forward.
The secretary’s small office opened out into a space three times bigger. There was a library on the left, its shelves full of books. In the corner, stacks of documents were on top of the desk. Sam’s boss would have to put some of those down to see if anyone else had joined him in his office. He was a small man; he couldn’t have been more than 5’5” or 5”6. What he lacked in size though, he seemed to make up for in loudness.
“Where the hell is my coffee?” He shouted, slapping a pencil case off his desk.
“It’s coming, sir!” I heard Rachel’s panicked voice.
“Mr. Dinkins, good morning,” Sam tipped his head down in a polite manner. “This is my friend, Chris Fullerton. He’s a software developer.”
“Who gives a fuck?” Dinkins growled, glaring up at him. “Does he have an appointment?”
“No, sir, I don’t,” I interjected, stepping past Sam. “After many years and thousands of dollars’ worth of damage, I managed to develop my own office suite, called ‘Office Fab.’ Its name says it all. In essence, it incorporates every function of Microsoft Word, in a much smaller size. It demands about thirty percent less hard disk space, twenty-seven percent less Ram and forty percent less CPU power. It’s right here.” I set my hard disk down in front of him.
“Has it been tested?” He asked, his tone just as stiff.
“Extensively,” I was quick to respond. “Sir, this software is so light that it can run even on the oldest of computer systems. Go ahead. See for yourself.”
“This’d better be good.” I left his last comment unanswered. I
stood there, hands on my waist, gauging his reaction. In the minutes that followed, Dinkins didn’t take his eyes off the screen. The distinctive ring signaled the completion of the installation. I let air into my lungs, the tremor in my arms coming back. Sam’s boss pressed a random number of keys on the keyboard and then glanced up at me.
“The ‘Word’ equivalent works well,” he praised. “There’s no lag at all. Let me check the ‘lightness’ part. I’ll have my subordinates check the other functions.”
At that, he pressed “Ctrl&Alt&Del.”
“Holy cow,” he whispered, his face falling in disbelief. “This thing is lighter than my printer’s software.”
“Yes, it is,” I agreed with a nod. “Mr. Dinkins, I’d like to make you an offer. You host a 30-day trial of ‘Office Fab’ on your company’s website. The full version will cost $170. I’ll give you ten percent of what it makes in the following month.”
“Make that fifteen, and you’ve got yourself a deal,” He spoke in a much calmer tone, shifting his gaze over to me.
“Okay. Fifteen,” I uttered and offered my hand.
“Deal.” Finally, the angry man disappeared. The businessman in his stead shook my hand, filling me with hope. I didn’t like his counter offer, but his company’s website was my only chance of promoting my creation for free. “Web Vibe” had been around for almost twenty years. It had a steady stream of customers, which was much, much better than me trying to promote software through a webpage no one had heard of. In other words, it was an ideal first step for an average nobody like me who was trying to make a name for himself. After years and years of failure, I had an opportunity to become something. Deep down, I believed I would succeed. Not because I was some kind of genius, but because I had put my heart and soul into this endeavor. I had a passion for what I did. I had ambition, along with a massive desire to revolutionize the industry. It was time for people to learn that they had another alternative. A cheaper and better alternative that wouldn’t drain their money, or their computer resources.