The Billionaire Affair

by Parker, Ali

  The techie’s reaction to my plan should’ve brought me to my senses, but it didn’t. If anyone asked, as she had, I could justify my actions seamlessly. I needed her to start right away, and I wanted to set her mind at ease for coming to work here despite the club and my behavior over lunch.

  Justifying it to myself, however, wasn’t that easy. I was getting too invested in her, and I was already kicking myself for it.

  But I couldn’t help it. That laugh of hers, that body, they were kryptonite to me. A weakness, but also an addiction. Kicking it now would’ve been best before it crawled out of infancy and into a full-fledged problem, but I wasn’t ready to do it.

  I wanted that kryptonite with everything in me. For the first time in my life, I was going to embrace a potential weakness, welcome it with open arms.

  Having her walking into those open arms would’ve been first prize, but at least she was going to be around. That counted for something, even if it did mean shelving what I wanted from her and having to make peace with looking and not touching.

  I wasn’t looking forward to that. It was going to be an exercise in restraint. A challenge. But for some reason, I welcomed it. It was a welcome change from the usual for me. Maybe not welcome, but a change I found myself intrigued by.

  Fuck the usual, I thought as I buttoned my jacket and walked out of my office to meet Neil. Bring on the kryptonite.

  Chapter 19

  STEPHANIE

  “Pass.” I pushed the floral print maxi dress in front of me to the side. Sighing, I tightened the towel knotted around my chest and moved on to the next outfit hanging in my closet. “Pass.”

  The bohemian skirt I wouldn’t have blinked an eye to wear to the bookstore got shoved to the side too, no longer work-appropriate. I doubted people who worked in buildings as tall as Williams Tower, on that side of town, for men worth more money than I knew how many zeroes to add to the number wore floral or bohemian outfits.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t have much in the way of business clothes that would qualify as appropriate to wear to my new job. I’d already been in twice, so my two best “professional looks” were off the table. I didn’t expect either Jeremiah or Neil to remember what a lowly potential secretary was wearing for her interviews, but I would know I wore them last week and I couldn’t do it.

  Outside my windows, the city was waking up, and the sounds were shifting from early, lazy, to the usual weekday rush. Blaring horns were becoming more regular, louder. The low beeps of a truck backing up somewhere close by reminded me there were people already working.

  I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was still early, but I really did need to get a move on. After passing on several more outfits, I grabbed a black dress and decided it would have to do. It was soft from too many washes, but I knew it looked good.

  It was long enough and had a high enough neckline to be deemed professionally acceptable. Paired with the right shoes and accessories, I didn’t think anyone would notice I got it for promoting top shelf scotch at an Uptown event one night.

  Over the last year, Tiana and I had been trying to make extra money to be able to afford a girls’ spa weekend. We picked up every after-hours gig we could, including promotional stuff for a company that let us keep the dresses afterward.

  The dress fit me well, I decided once I completed a couple of turns in the mirror. Settling for wearing it, I found a pair of red heels and shoved those in my purse, to be swapped out for the plain black pumps I wore now once I got to work.

  I added a couple of bracelets and a long silver chain around my neck, then nodded at my reflection. It wasn’t going to get any better than that until I could afford some new stuff.

  Proud of myself for managing to make something work, I headed for the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee. If I didn’t have at least a few hits of caffeine before I left, I would be a zombie when I got there.

  Tiana was still fast asleep, as I would’ve been if my new boss hadn’t decided to be an early riser. I had pulled myself out of bed by five thirty so I could make it to the office on time looking semi-decent.

  I enjoyed the quiet, breathing in the fresh smell of the coffee as it brewed and absently staring out of our kitchen window at the other early-birds already out on the sidewalk. It was warm in the kitchen, the early morning sunlight warm and bright.

  Startled when the coffee brewed, I jumped slightly and got out a cup and a thermos to transfer the coffee to later. A quick look at my watch told me I had just about enough time to gulp down a few sips before I had to leave.

  When I was done, I transferred the rest of my coffee to the thermos, but then I left it behind. I knew my luck. If I took it with me, I would end up spilling it all over myself on the way there. Arriving late—again—or with coffee stains on my dress would look incredibly unprofessional.

  I gave the thermos a last, yearning glance on my way out the door, then turned my focus to my commute to my new office. This time, I was determined to arrive at Williams Tower with heels and clothes intact.

  I avoided stepping on any cracks, being crashed into by messengers and joined my fellow city dwellers in a busy but uneventful commute to work. The smell of street vendors making breakfast made me realize I had no nourishment to sustain me for the morning, but I was going to have to live without food. I was too nervous to eat.

  Surely I had enough reserves for my body to feed off of until lunchtime. See, that was why I kept the extra pounds on. I smiled to myself. I knew they would come in handy sometime.

  The coffee shops and trucks were harder to ignore than the food—until I remembered how awful things ended for me the last time I thought there was enough time for me to grab a coffee on the way to this particular building.

  I arrived at Williams Towers in the midst of a swarm of other employees, all of whom had key cards to swipe themselves into the imposing building. I entered using the same revolving doors I used for my interviews and then waited for a security guard to clear me for the executive floors.

  Thankfully, I’d left myself plenty of time for this process, and I was still ten minutes early by the time I stepped off the elevator on the fortieth floor. I smoothed my dress when the digital ding announced my arrival at my destination, prepared to face yet another snooty receptionist before being allowed back into the inner-sanctum where I knew Jeremiah’s office was.

  To my surprise, it wasn’t a snooty receptionist waiting for me when I turned the corner. It was Jeremiah Williams himself.

  “Wonders never cease,” I muttered to myself under my breath, pausing to take a deep breath before I went to him.

  He hadn’t seen me yet, standing with his back to the hallway while looking out of a huge window off the reception area. His feet were planted apart, his hands in his pockets. I could see the material of his jacket stretch in the hollow between his broad shoulders.

  His posture was open, confident, relaxed. A king in his castle surveying his kingdom. Which I suppose in a way, he was.

  Well, not King yet. But certainly, a prince. Not even a prince, but the prince now. The Williams family was as close to royalty as it got in this city.

  When he turned around, the corners of his lips were pulled up into a slight smile. For just a fraction of a second, he almost looked mischievous. Like the twenty-something he was. Then it was gone as he started striding toward me, extending his hand. Arrogant billionaire firmly back in place.

  Still, I couldn’t help but notice how hot he was. It really was unfair that he could look like that, be worth an obscene amount of money and be my boss.

  Some people had all the luck. Of course, I was pretty damn lucky myself. Having landed this job when I did.

  His brown eyes were deep somehow, as striking as I remembered them to be. In the days since I saw him last, I convinced myself that he wasn’t really as hot as he was in my memory. But I’d been wrong.

  In the soft morning light, wearing a power suit that must’ve been tailored for him from the way it fit him like
a glove, he was gorgeous.

  Bone structure that could’ve made angels weep, dark hair styled so it fell over his forehead just a little, it was easy to see why the women of New York were obsessed with the guy. And now he was focused completely on me.

  A rush of heat spread through me. So not the time, Steph.

  I took his offered hand and pumped it firmly just once before I let go, trying not to notice how warm and smooth his hand felt in mine. How his long fingers wrapped perfectly around my hand, making me wonder what else he could do with those fingers.

  Jeez. Cool it, girl.

  If I didn’t watch it, I was going to melt into a Steph-sized puddle of desire. Giving myself a mental shake, I managed to find my voice. “Good morning, Mr. Williams.”

  “Ms. Donavan,” he replied. His voice was rich with that cultured timbre I wasn’t used to hearing from guys his age. He stepped away from me, sweeping out his arm in the direction of the hallway opposite from where his office was. He turned his wrist to check an enormous watch. “You’re awfully punctual.”

  I was taken aback that he acknowledged my punctuality. Didn’t bosses usually only notice when you were late? In my experience, that was definitely the case.

  “So are you.” I wanted to bury my face in my hands and kick myself with both legs for saying it, but it was already out.

  It didn’t look like he minded though. If anything, the small smile I’d seen earlier returned and his eyes lit with amusement when I risked a quick glance up at him. “Touché. If you’ll follow me, we can get started with your tour.”

  “You’re the boss.” For fuck’s sake, what was wrong with my mouth? Every sassy thing I thought just popped out around him. A regular thing for me, but did it have to happen around my new employer all the damn time.

  A breath of air that might’ve been a chuckle escaped him, but by the time I looked at him, there were no signs of laughter. “I guess I am. Listen, before we get started, I wanted to talk to you.”

  My eyes widened. Not even ten minutes on the job and my mouth had already landed me in trouble. “Okay.”

  He stopped in the middle of the nearly deserted hallway, just before another set of turnstiles that led through opaque glass walls. “I know we’re keeping things professional and all that, but with the amount of time we’re going to be spending together, I don’t think it would be inappropriate to refer to each other by our first names. That okay with you?”

  I was prepared with an apology about my runaway mouth, which died on my lips when I realized he hadn’t wanted to talk about that at all. Referring to him as Mr. Williams was an archaic tradition I wasn’t really comfortable with anyway. But calling my boss by his first name hinted at a familiarity I wasn’t sure I should have with him. Not under our circumstances.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  He nodded. “You’ll come to find that people who work on the same teams here are more informal than they are with those they don’t work directly with. Since we’re working directly together, there’s nothing strange about it. Unless you’re not comfortable with it, of course.”

  “No, no that’s fine,” I told him, a little dazed by the knowledge that I was going to be working on a team with the Jeremiah Williams. There was a difference for me between working for him, as I was, and working with him, as he obviously thought of us as doing.

  “Excellent.” He flashed me a smile and extracted a keycard from his pocket, swiping it across an electronic pad and motioning for me to precede him through the turnstiles. “Now that’s settled, let’s start the tour.”

  “Let’s.” I caught a glimpse of us walking beside each other in the gleaming reflection of one of the walls as he started pointing things out to me. It was disconcerting to see what I looked like beside him, in my outfit that cost less than a hundred bucks when his suit probably cost thousands.

  I pushed my insecurity aside when we stepped into a large, circular area filled with different kinds of coffee machines, strange pod-like things, and scattered couches and beanbags. My jaw loosened. “What’s this?”

  “The staff break room,” he answered, standing a bit straighter. “We upgraded the building’s interior last year. It seemed fitting to bring the staff areas into the correct century.”

  “Wow.” I was impressed. I’d heard of places like this at companies, of course. I just never thought I would be working for one of those companies.

  Being awed by my new workplace didn’t end there. This was a multi-million dollar company. It was modern, luxurious and classy.

  Clean lines, stainless steel, glass, laminate flooring and plush carpets ruled the space. The conference rooms Jeremiah showed me were equipped with state-of-the-art electronics, and when he informed me of what phone and laptop the company would be issuing me with, my jaw actually dropped.

  “This place is incredible,” I said, following him back to his office.

  “Glad you said yes yet?” he asked, entering through a door just down the hall from his office.

  “Definitely,” I replied distractedly, instantly drawn to the massive windows off one side of this office. The entire back wall was a window, which let in plenty of natural light. It was much smaller than his, unsurprisingly, but comfortable with a large desk in the center, a small seating area, and even its own small coffee station. “Who does this belong to?”

  Jeremiah shrugged. “You.”

  I had been staring out of the window, imagining what it must be like getting to work every morning to a view like this when he said it. I felt my eyes stretch open and my eyebrows raise. “Excuse me? I thought I heard you say this was mine.”

  “Seems like your ears are fine then, because that’s exactly what I said,” he said cheerfully, watching me transition through several stages of shock, awe, surprise and finally, glee. This is fucking awesome.

  I couldn’t wait to send Tiana pictures of my office. I owed her big time for pushing me into making that call when I was so close to passing on this opportunity. This was a real office. Not a desk, not a workstation, but an office. And it was all mine.

  Drinks were going to have to be on me for the next year.

  “Ready for the last part of your orientation before you get thrown into the deep end by yourself?” Jeremiah asked after giving me a minute to process that this was really mine.

  “Absolutely.” I was nervous about the work before, but now I knew where I would be doing it, excitement was quickly replacing the nerves. “Lead the way, boss.”

  He reached for the door he was leaning in the doorway of and twisted the knob. I recognized the office adjacent to mine immediately. It was his. My office was attached to his. Well, that was… a potential disaster. Which somehow, I was okay with.

  I was floating on air, finally feeling like I’d achieved something with my degree. After all I went through to get the damn thing. Nothing was going to bring me down right now.

  “Your login passwords and your credentials,” Jeremiah said, bringing my attention back to him.

  He was standing behind his massive desk holding out an embossed, heavy envelope. I took it from him, my eyes catching on a picture of his brother on his desk.

  It was hidden from view by his computer screen from the side of his office I was on for the interview, but I could see it clearly now. He followed my gaze.

  “That’s Jack.” His voice got quieter. “My late brother. A snowboarding accident, three years ago.”

  “I know.” It was all over the place back when it happened. In papers, in the news, on the internet. You couldn’t escape Jack Williams’ death if you tried.

  For the first time since meeting him, I felt like he was human. The way he cut his eyes away from the picture so quickly, staring out his own expansive windows instead. His posture had changed. He was tense now, his spine stiff. The column of his throat moved up and down like he was trying to swallow down bitter memories of a difficult time.

  When it happened, I remembered the entire city mourning a
man some had seen grow before their very eyes in newspapers and in the tabloids. Others mourned for the eligible bachelor the city lost, while many speculated about whether bad boy Jeremiah was ready to start training to accept the keys to the castle when the time came.

  I never thought much about Jack as a brother, a son. People sent condolences to the family on social media, in interviews with journalists and by placing flowers and cards outside Jack’s brownstone, but how many people really thought of him as a person? Thought of his family as human, people who hurt.

  Looking at Jeremiah now, I realized he was very much human. Just like I was. He just happened to be dripping in money.

  Chapter 20

  JEREMIAH

  “Yeah, I suppose you’d have to have been dead yourself to have missed the news just after it happened,” I responded to Stephanie, surprising myself by not shutting down the topic of Jack’s death immediately.

  She nodded, but I didn’t feel any of the false pity or sympathy from her as I usually did when anyone brought up that time of my life. “It was a bit of a circus, wasn’t it?”

  I chuckled, waiting for the resentment or the melancholy I usually felt when thinking about Jack to surface. Strangely, it wasn’t there. I arched a brow, lowering my chin as I turned to look at Stephanie. “A bit? It was more like a full-on carnival.”

  She smiled, tilting her head as she acquiesced. “That’s a pretty accurate description. I remember wondering if he really even could’ve known all the people who were coming out as his ‘good friends’ to give interviews.”

  “And all the girls who were devastated over the loss of their love.” I smiled, remembering how every second women in the state came out declaring she’d been in a secret relationship with him.

  “I’d forgotten about that,” Stephanie said. “Was any of it true?”

  I shook my head, thinking back to a conversation Jack and I had shortly before he went on that trip. Some magazine had both of us on their “most eligible” list, and we drank beer and stated all the qualities that made us very much ineligible. “He would’ve thought it was hilarious hearing all it.”