by Mia Caldwell
Jessie looked at the ground, then moved her gaze down the street in the direction of the bus stop while remaining silent. Her lack of a comment spoke volumes to John.
“It's okay. I know you have your pride, and I like that.” He shifted from one foot to the other like a nervous school boy. “The thing is, Jessie, I couldn't stand by and watch you lose your job over Kimberly, so I hope you didn't mind me intervening. I'm sorry it took me so long, but I needed some time to decide if I should even enter your life again.”
“I suppose I should thank you for stepping in,” she responded without looking up at him. “I needed the job.”
“And I need to see you.” His confident air had returned. “Please. Just for dinner.”
“John, this is a mistake. Wasn't it enough that those lies were told about us? You want people to start thinking it's true?” Jessie replied indignantly.
“It doesn't matter anymore. You obviously haven't kept up with this week's gossip, have you?” he asked.
“I guess I was a little on the busy side,” Jessie shot back sarcastically. John had been off making money hand over fist while she was struggling just to keep a roof over her head.
“Well, my fears about Kimberly were confirmed. She was caught on camera in a very compromising position with her press agent, of all people,” John said with a sigh.
“You're kidding me?” Jessie brightened. “So while she's accusing you of being a cheat—”
“Exactly,” he interrupted her. “Cheating is what she's been doing to me, and I'm sure this wasn't the first time. But I knew it was over for us,” John confessed. “It has been for some time. We were only kidding ourselves. It's just that she wanted me to look like the bad guy because of what she stood to lose in the divorce.”
“I see.” Jessie took a few steps back from John, who had managed to inch his way so close that she could feel his warm breath on her face and smell the striking aroma of his aftershave. “John,” she began.
“Yes?”
“Look at me. Look at how I live. I'm not an actress. I'm not a supermodel. There might be a slight attraction between us for sure, but I'm not stupid. I'd just be a novelty for you. A struggling black girl who you'd get tired of within weeks, if not days. Then it would be back to dating celebrities and models. I’m all set with that,” Jessie said, adding a small laugh to help stifle the hurt she was feeling inside. “You may like me now, but when the reality of my life, my world, sets in? You'd be done with me in a second.”
“Why do you sell yourself so short? Apart from being stunningly attractive, I can see you not only have brains and guts, but you've also got ambition and drive. All the things I admire in a woman,” John persisted.
“Stunningly attractive? Oh, please. I've seen the women you date. They're gorgeous. And how do I know this isn't a lot of bullshit to get me into bed?” Jessie asked dubiously.
“I'm not asking you to go to bed with me, I'm asking you to dinner. We talk. We eat. That's it.” John held up his open palms to signify he didn't want to trick her and had nothing up his sleeves. She stood looking at him and deliberating for a long while before taking in a deep breath and exhaling with a smile.
“You got it, then,” she playfully conceded in defeat. “Dinner. That would be nice. I'm off tomorrow night if that works for you.”
John, who looked to have been holding his breath while Jessie made her decision, let out a laugh. “That's amazing. Thank you, Jessie. I'll choose the place if that's all right, and I'll have my car pick you up at seven?”
“Fine — now that you know where I live,” she said in jest, her broad grin putting John at ease.
“I look forward to it,” he answered excitedly, his eyes looking even more blue in the afternoon sun.
Jessica Drew, a girl from the slums who was already defying the odds by putting herself through college, had somehow managed to snag a date with a charming billionaire. She didn’t know what to make of the situation, but couldn’t wait to see John Harwood again. Things were definitely getting interesting.
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Part 2 is available to read NOW for FREE through Kindle Unlimited. You can find Part 2 HERE on Mia’s Amazon Page.
About The Author
Mia Caldwell has been fantasizing about stories of "Happily-Ever-After" since she was a little girl, and now that she's all grown up her "Happily-Ever-After" stories have taken a steamier turn! After graduating from college Mia still wasn't quite sure what she wanted to do with her life. Bored with her day job as an Administrative Assistant for a non-profit, she started writing stories on the side and sharing them with her friends. They gave her the push she needed to share them with you! She lives in New York with two rascally cats named Link and Zelda, eats too much chocolate and Chinese take-out, and goes on way too many blind dates. She's still waiting for Mr. Right, but in the meantime she'll keep dreaming up the perfect man!
Mia loves hearing from her fans and you can reach her at: [email protected]
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EXCERPT from A Date with a Secret Billionaire
"Have you ever dated a back girl before?" she suddenly blurted, realizing she probably just made herself sound as idiotic as those white boys had.
Jon paused, his fork halfway to his mouth.
"No," he answered while looking at her curiously and perhaps a tad cautiously.
"Black friends?"
"Some. School friends, mostly. I finished my Master's in Chicago and I had some black friends there. I have some black coworkers now but, no, I've never dated a black girl. My upbringing was distressingly homogenous: privileged white people as far as the eye can see."
She feigned a shudder.
"Ugh. How gross."
"Tell me about it. It kind of explains why I like reading books by people from other parts of the world, doesn't it?"
"I'm not part of some attempt on your part to broaden your cultural horizons, am I?" She gave him a teasing grin, but it was a legitimate concern. She knew some white, social justice morons who cruised for minorities to fuck just so they could prove they weren't racist.
"Um, not consciously," he said with a small smile. He put down his fork and leaned forward on his elbows. "I'll tell you why I like you," he said, gazing across the table at her with his blue-green eyes. "It has nothing to do with the fact that you're black. You're a beautiful, intelligent woman with a sense of humor, and you don't have an agenda. I mean, you probably have an agenda on some level, we all do, but I expect it's a normal one. Something like you meet a nice guy, if things work out you date for a while, maybe one day move in together, get married, take some vacations, whatever. That's what you're probably doing, more or less, or maybe you're just looking to date and have a good time. Right?"
She nodded slowly, taking in what he was saying.
"Something like that," she replied slowly.
Jon sat back in his chair.
"Look, I meet a lot of people who aren't very interested in simply finding a person they pair up well with. I usually meet, well, this is kind of a loaded statement and I don't feel good about using it, but—"
"Gold diggers?" Janelle offered.
"I was going to say social climbers, but that works. Either way, you don't strike me as the type," he replied with sincerity.
"Maybe I am. You still don't know me that well," she shrugged.
"I suppose not. But you didn't walk out of the club with me the other night because you were a social climber. I think you saw something you liked, at least a little bit," Jon smirked.
"Yeah, I like you. I wonder why you act so mysterious, though,” Janelle smiled. “Like, what's the deal with you? You're always talking about yourself like you're a ce
lebrity or something, mentioning how gorgeous girls are always coming at you and how they're all there for your money. That, or they're social climbers or whatever. It's very confusing, because you tell me you're just a communications guy for an energy company, but you’ve also told me that your dad is a higher-up there. So, what, does he own the company or something?"
"Yes, he does," Jon answered, nervously taking a sip off of his beer.
"Come on. Don’t fuck around," Janelle said, her tone suddenly serious.