Jane Harvey-Berrick Saving The Billionaire

by Harvey-Berrick, Jane

  But as we approach, I can sense the tension in his body. Ms. Alvarez is too excited to notice.

  “Oh em gee, Dev! This place is amazing! I’d live here all the time, it’s so beautiful! Wow, all this is yours? I guess you really are rich,” she says, almost wistful.

  I pull up in front of the main doors and wait for instructions.

  Anderson doesn’t move and the girl frowns at him.

  “What? We’ve come all this way and now we’re just going to glare at the door? Dev?”

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” he says, his voice cold.

  She glances at me, wondering, perhaps, why he wants to have this conversation in front of the hired help. I have no idea either. Although it could be boundary issues: the boss doesn’t have any.

  “Okay,” she says slowly. “What’s up?”

  “I used to host parties here on weekends, up until recently. I stopped when my estate manager was … shot. He died.”

  “Oh God, Devon! That’s so sad! What happened?” Then she stares at the doors. “Wait, did it happen here? Is that why you…”

  “No, it wasn’t here. It was at DMA Tower.”

  She gasps.

  “I read about that! I remember. It was a couple of weeks after my awful interview. Police killed him when he tried to shoot you or something.”

  Anderson lowers his head, staring out the car window.

  “Not exactly. Aston used to work here.”

  She wraps her arms around him, hugging him tightly. The boss looks slightly green—he knows that won’t be her reaction when she hears the rest of the story.

  “Aston was my estate manager but he also organized the parties here. Special parties.”

  She meets his eyes, unsure.

  “Why do you say it like that? Special parties. What sort of parties are we talking about? Raves? Ragers? Jeez, keggers? Spit it out, Devon!”

  “Social occasions where consenting adults enjoyed mutually fulfilling intercourse. Sexual intercourse.”

  Her mouth drops open.

  “Are you freakin’ kidding me? Orgies?!”

  The boss winces, then opens the car door.

  “Let me show you around. Then you’ll have a better understanding.”

  At first I think she’s not going to get out of the car, but when I hold the door open for her, she slides out reluctantly.

  The boss tries to hold her hand as they walk into the house, but she pulls free and wraps her arms around herself protectively.

  She walks from room to room taking in the top class display of dark kink: the whips, the canes, the floggers, the spreaders, the swing, the cage, the viewing platforms, the bed big enough for ten people, her expression moving from shocked to more shocked, to sad, and then grave.

  Finally, the boss can’t stand it any longer.

  “Maria, say something. Please.”

  She takes a moment too long, and even I’m holding my breath.

  “You have parties here? Sex parties?”

  The boss swallows and nods.

  “Consenting adults, that’s all.”

  She raises her eyebrows.

  “And do you consent, Devon? Do you … share yourself with other people? With strangers?”

  “They’re not strangers. They’re all vetted and…”

  She gasps and covers her trembling lips.

  “Strangers, Devon! Strangers to your emotions, to your heart!”

  The boss is dumbfounded. Yep, he is the foundation of all that’s dumb.

  “I … it’s not…”

  “Let me explain how … sad … or bad … this makes me feel,” she says slowly. “Whatever … enjoyment or pleasure or … experience … you get from this, it will never be okay with me while you and I are in a relationship. I will never take part in whatever goes on here. And I am not okay with you … taking part … in anything like this if you and I are in a relationship.”

  She’s speaking calmly, but only just.

  “You haven’t tried it,” the boss says tightly. “You might like it. You might like it a lot.”

  She shakes her head, caught between anger and sorrow.

  “You’re a smart guy, Devon, so you have to know that this,” and she waves her hand at the viewing platforms and the saltire cross with its leather restraints, “you know this isn’t … usual. I’m not going to use the word ‘normal’ because that’s different for everyone. But, Dev, not everyone has a damn dungeon in their vacation home, ya know? This is not what most people do after they’ve walked the dog and washed their car on a weekend. You get what I’m saying?”

  His expression remains stiff and unyielding. And I’d rather be back in Afghan that see the boss fuck up something with Maria.

  “Only because it’s new to you. Many people find the … release offered here enjoyable, even beneficial. Sexual experimentation involving consensual adults isn’t anything to find repellent.”

  He sounds like he’s quoting that from memory, which is pretty fucking whacked.

  She looks away.

  “I really like what we have, what we’re starting to have, but I’m telling you now: I will never be a willing participant in what goes on in this room, any of these rooms. And I’ll tell you why: because you are enough for me.”

  She stares at him long and hard as confusion fills the boss’s face.

  “The question is, Dev, am I enough for you?”

  She sweeps past him, ignoring me completely, as she heads for the clean air and sunshine outside.

  I stand in the shadows, watching but unseen as the boss stares after her, his face immobile.

  Then he turns on his heel and strides back into the silence of the house. Left to my own devices, I follow the girl.

  She’s leaning against the car, her arms folded, staring at the tall trees that flank the driveway. She’s not crying, but her expression is desolate when she glances up at me.

  I open the backdoor of the car, and she slumps inside, hiding her face in her hands.

  I wish for the thousandth time that Rachel was here.

  “Is it as bad as I think it is?” she whispers.

  Jeez, ask the easy question, why don’t you?

  “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Ms. Alvarez.”

  She sighs, perhaps not having expected a straight answer. I hope she might stop asking me, but she doesn’t. Instead, she turns to face me, her chin jutting aggressively.

  “The sex parties: are they as bad as … as…” but she doesn’t finish the sentence. Or can’t.

  “I’m Mr. Anderson’s bodyguard, Ms. Alvarez. As long as I deem his attendance safe, it’s none of my business.”

  Her lips set in an angry line.

  “Yeah? You join in, is that it?”

  “No, ma’am. I don’t.”

  Her cheeks flush and she bites her lip.

  “Sorry, Trainer. That was rude. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around all of this.”

  Yup been there, done that, got the handcuffs to match.

  A loud crash from inside the house has me running toward the sound, my Smith & Wesson in my hand.

  “Stay in the car!” I yell over my shoulder. “Lock the doors!”

  I don’t have time to see if she’s listened to me as I race through the house. More loud thuds ring through the emptiness as I slink toward the room where the noise is coming from. Keeping my profile low, I glance inside, but Anderson is alone, his face contorted with rage and regret.

  Then I shoulder my weapon and watch as the boss wrenches the equipment from the walls, throwing it all into the center of the room. The saltire is at the bottom of the pile, and I guess that’s the loud crash I must have heard.

  I turn quickly when I hear a sound behind me, but it’s just the girl.

  I should be pissed that she didn’t do as she was told and stay in the car, but when she rushes up to the boss and throws her arms around him, I decide to make a strategic withdrawal.

&n
bsp; As I leave, I hear the boss’s voice, muffled and upset.

  “Maria, I … I’ll try. I promise I’ll try. I want to try … this is new for me, too. Give me a chance.”

  I hope they can figure this out, but if they can’t, it’s none of my business. I take a walk around the perimeter, checking the security surveillance, making sure there’s nothing out of place. Then I check all the rooms, avoiding the boss’s private bedroom, and eventually, I go wait in the car. And wait. And wait. An hour later, they follow. I wonder what they’ve been doing all afternoon. No, really. I’ll be blushing next.

  “Trainer, we’re driving back to Wolf Point. The Farm will have contractors in next week to remodel the whole house. Entirely.”

  See, I knew the boss wasn’t completely dumb. Maybe now he can finally step away from the darkness that Frederick Landon has brought into this life.

  What will the boss do now that he’s said sayonara to kinky shenanigans at the Farm? I hope it doesn’t mean his meditation room will get more use.

  On the drive back, the boss barely seems aware of his surroundings. He takes the girl’s hand and kisses it sweetly, gently. I have never seen him like this. And then it hits me: he’s in love.

  Well, fuck me sideways.

  Chapter 5

  Love, Actually

  THE BOSS IS completely oblivious to everyone and everything. It’s a good thing I’m on the case, otherwise he’d probably walk into a tree or stroll across a freeway. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s floating on a sea of happiness with this dumbass grin plastered across his GQ face.

  I know. We’ve all been there. Too fucked up by a woman to think straight, but I never thought I’d see Anderson mooning over a woman. What is it about this Alvarez kid? She’s attractive, any fool can see that, but the boss has had a lot hotter, more beautiful women throw themselves at him. What’s special about this one?

  I wish I could say that it’s none of my business, but if he’s off his game, I need to be even more alert than usual.

  At any rate, he’s too wound up to work on Sunday evening after she’s left, so I pull on my sweats and we head off around Lower Manhattan and the East Village, and put in the miles. And let’s face it, two nights without Rachel, he isn’t the only one who’s feeling sexually frustrated.

  All I want to do is have a beer and a burger. Fuck, I miss Rachel’s cooking. She knows how to please a man. In so many ways.

  I have to take a rain check on the beer because I’m officially still on duty, and at this moment in time, the boss’s plans are changing from moment to moment. I doubt Ms. Alvarez is aware of it, but she’s seriously fucking up my social life.

  Sure enough, just after 7:30PM, and thirty minutes before Rachel is due back, the boss phones to say I’m needed.

  I drive him to her apartment and she’s waiting outside for him.

  Anderson waves me away, so I head for a Burger King where I can keep an eye on him through the window, then treat myself to that burger I’ve been craving. As I sit in the Rover enjoying every bite, I wonder idly when was the last time the boss ate a good ole greasy burger. Not since I’ve known him, that’s for sure. What the fuck is quinoa anyway?

  The boss and Ms. Alvarez sit on the steps outside her apartment, deep in conversation.

  Aw, hell. I could be here for a while.

  To pass the time, I call Rachel.

  “Hey, baby!”

  “Justin!”

  And just the way she says my name…

  “What are you doing?”

  “Not much. I just got back. I thought you’d be here. Are you with Mr. Anderson? What are you doing?”

  “Lurking.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I have lurking down to a fine art, and I’d like to think I’m the shit at loitering. Don’t even get me started on skulking.”

  She laughs.

  “Be serious!”

  “I’m outside Ms. Alvarez’s apartment waiting for the boss to … well, just waiting for the boss.”

  There’s a brief pause.

  “I see. Dare I ask how it went when he took her to the Farm?”

  “You know, babe, I’d say he’s got it bad. You should have seen him today. She told him that shit don’t fly with her, and five minutes later he was tearing the place apart and calling in someone to remodel the whole Farm. They’ll be having a fire sale on kinky shit.”

  “Oh my! Do you think this girl will really be different?” Rachel uses the words tentatively, searchingly, hopefully.

  “Maybe. Oh, wait … he’s showing her the Rolex he bought for her. Wow, she looks really pissed!”

  “Oh?”

  “Actually she looks really fucking angry.”

  “Oh, Justin! You know what this means, don’t you?!” Rachel splutters.

  “She doesn’t like Rolex?”

  “No, silly! She doesn’t like expensive gifts; she doesn’t want him for his money! Oh, this is wonderful!”

  I’m not so sure.

  “Don’t you like expensive gifts?”

  I’m thinking of the Victoria’s Secret underwear I bought her that I really haven’t had as much fun from yet as I hope to.

  “Justin, I love getting gifts from you. You also know that I don’t like you wasting your money on me … you’re going all moody, I can tell. Stop it!”

  “I like buying you presents. What’s wrong with that? It’s my money to waste… although I don’t see it as wasting it…”

  She sighs.

  “What are they doing now?”

  “Talking. Well, she’s talking; he’s looking kinda whipped … um, I mean … she still looks mad. Wait, she’s kissing him on the cheek.”

  “Oh!” Rachel sighs. “That’s so sweet! Oh, I like this girl. What are they doing now?”

  “Um … you really want a description? He looks like he’s forgotten they’re outside. Good thing there are no paps around.”

  “I’m sorry you have to wait. Have you had something to eat?”

  “Yeah, I grabbed a burger.”

  “That’s not very healthy!”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Tasted good.”

  “Hmm! Are you trying to make me mad?”

  “Is it working?”

  “Yes!”

  “How mad are you, baby?”

  “I’ll show you when you get back.”

  I groan and she laughs.

  “Goodnight, Justin!”

  “Wait! What are you wearing?”

  “Justin!”

  “Come on, I’m curious.”

  “I’m wearing that lovely black underwear that you bought me from Victoria’s Secret…” I groan inwardly “…and I’m wearing a white blouse and navy blue pencil skirt.”

  “Take off your clothes.”

  “Justin!”

  “Do it for me, baby.”

  I hear the smile in her voice.

  “Okay, Justin. I’m unzipping my skirt. I’m sliding it down my hips. It’s on the floor. Now I’m picking it up and folding it and putting it on the chair, like you’re supposed to do with your clothes!”

  “Oh, baby, don’t ruin the moment. Undo your shirt: one button at a time.”

  “Here’s the first button, now the second, now the third; my bra is showing through. Now I’m undoing the cuffs; I’m sliding my blouse over my shoulders. Now I’m just in my bra and panties. I’m going to put the phone down so I can unhook my bra…”

  Oh, fucking yeah! Suddenly there’s a thud.

  “Oh, sorry, I dropped the phone. Allison is on the other line. I was supposed to call her when I got in. I’ll have to go.”

  “What? No!”

  “Bye, Justin!”

  Fucking Allison! I knew there was a reason I hated her. And I’ve got a rock solid erection. Sucking in a deep breath, I lean back in my seat and try to think cold thoughts. Oh, for fuck’s sake!

  You’re probably wondering why I don’t just jerk some knuckle babies as no one’s looking and I�
�m parked away from streetlights.

  I guess you could say the Marines cured me of that—jerking it on duty is frowned upon. And maybe because I was doing an overnighter in a defensive watch post, alone in my shallow fighting hole, my buddies relying on me to be vigilant. I started getting sleepy, with only hourly radio checks to keep me awake. Rubbing one out seemed like a good way to stay awake. Accidentally leaning on the ‘talk’ button while in the midst of Operation Stay Awake, meant that all other radios heard me slapping and panting. And because you can’t receive transmissions while broadcasting, no one could tell me to stop. The C.O. wasn’t happy, but it kept the other guys entertained and awake.

  A couple of minutes later, I see the boss leaving. He leans down to kiss the girl, and when he turns to face me, he looks so fucking happy. Her expression is harder to read.

  He climbs into the back seat and asks me to put on some music, so we ride back to the hotel listening to Satie’s Gymnopédie. I didn’t know jack-shit about classical music until I started working for Anderson, but some of it’s really good. I wouldn’t admit that to my old platoon buddies, but I’ve got a thing for Puccini. Which reminds me, I have to pick up the tickets for me and Rachel to go see Madame Butterfly. It’s playing at the Met—the boss is letting us use his private box. The bastard can be generous. It wasn’t like I even asked him. He came into my office and saw me looking at the flyer. Next thing I know, the manager is phoning me to ask which night is convenient for me and Mrs. Trainer. I really liked the sound of that. I guess it’s the boss’s little joke.

  He does stuff like that—never says a word. I know he’s filthy rich, so it’s not the money, it’s the fact that he notices. Part of me wonders if it’s not just to keep me sweet because he doesn’t want to have to go look for another sucker to live in his weird twilight world. But the side of me that’s being trained by Rachel thinks it’s because he’s good. That’s the word she uses about him: good.

  And I gotta say, the long-haired general makes a lot of sense.

  I slide into the sheets next to her and she sighs, folding herself into my body.

  I could get used to this.

  THE NEXT DAY seems to last a lifetime.