BREATHE: A Billionaire Romance, Part 2

by Jenn Marlow

  “I am not a slut!” I screamed, throwing my head back to face him. I was hoping that the look of disgust on my face would be enough to scare him, or at the very least shake him up a bit.

  But it hadn’t worked.

  Not that I should have been surprised. Nothing worked on him. He had no emotions; he was like a robot. And the more I focused on that fact, the angrier I got. I actually was beginning to think there was good to him, but the night had clearly shown otherwise.

  I was mad. So mad, in fact that I felt my fist clench, and before I knew it, I had drawn it back with my arm and launched it directly at and into his jaw.

  He groaned as his head snapped to the side, obviously shaken from my punch.

  I had never hit a man before; hell, I didn’t think I had even hit anyone since eighth grade in the school yard. A girl named Little Jo—who wasn’t so little—picked on my best friend at the time, and I let her have it…

  And honestly, that was the last time I ever hit anyone…

  I couldn’t believe I hit him. Of all people, I hit him. I couldn’t believe I had stricken him. I hit a sick man! A sick, douchebag, of a man, but a sick man nonetheless.

  He was definitely mentally ill if he thought that I was going to just take all the shit he was spouting and not get upset about it.

  “Wow,” he whispered, holding his jaw.

  “I should go,” I said, tears threatening to pour as the consequences of my actions began flooding my mind. I kept thinking of all the “what ifs” involved with hitting my boss… and the bad karma and juju associated with hitting a person with cancer.

  And they weren’t good.

  So without any sort of thought, or any other word, I made it to the door…and then I screamed, “And don’t have Jim fired!”—as I flung the door open and exited.

  Out of Derek Sholts’ penthouse suite and out of his glorious side of town.

  Chapter 14

  I didn’t show up for work the next day, and I knew that he would notice, but I also knew that there was no way in hell that he could blame me.

  The fact of it was, I knew that by not showing up I was in danger of losing my job. But I really didn’t care.

  Instead, I stayed in my pajamas and sat on the couch. I was going to live Polly’s life for one day, and I smirked as I watched the TV. It was the first time in a long time that I actually got to watch something—not that there was anything on, though…

  I flicked from channel to channel, wondering what it was that Polly actually did all day if the selection of shows was that lacking. However, then I remembered, she cammed, and played video games. Maybe that—although I wasn’t sure how—kept her preoccupied most of the day.

  I groaned with every click. It was like the shows went from bad to worse as I continued going up. And just as I made my way to some sort of soap opera type thing, I heard a noise—faint but sure—come from behind me.

  I turned, and there she was—a messy haired Polly, clad in pajamas very similar to the ones I had on. Pink shorts and a white tank.

  “Hey…” she trailed, speaking up for the first time in a long time.

  “Hey,” I said in return, sort of unsure of where this was all going.

  “I just wanted to say that I just got off the phone with my agent, and I got the job.” She was excited about getting the job, I could tell, but she was also sighing in defeat.

  She walked to the couch, plopping down beside me just before resting her head on my shoulder.

  I wasn’t sure if it was the morning and my brain hadn’t jump-started yet, or if it was the fact that I had been flipping through mindless television, but I couldn't for the life of me even know what job she was talking about. My brows twisted in confusion.

  “I shouldn’t have blamed you,” she continued. “If I didn’t get the job, it would have been my fault. Not yours for not showing up…” And then it clicked. She meant the job she auditioned for weeks ago, the one from the night Derek told me he had cancer.

  “I’m sorry, too. I should have been there.” I was sincere in my apology. I really had felt terrible that I hadn’t gone, and beyond that, even more terrible that I had forgotten about it after Derek told me his secret.

  “I wanted you there, and I was hurt… work has never come first when it came to me and your family.” I could tell just by looking into her eyes that she was sincere and that she really had been hurting. However, I also knew that before this job, she and I were struggling to make ends meet. And now I didn’t even know if I had the job anymore…

  “I know.” And that’s all I could say before the door sounded to a knock from the other side.

  I groaned. I knew who it’d be.

  “Want me to answer it?” Polly smirked. “I’ll deck him for ya.”

  I laughed. I knew she actually would have had I asked her.

  “No,” I replied. “I’ll take care of it myself.”

  And with that I walked off towards the door and opened it,

  “I really wanted to talk to you!” he said, hurriedly as soon as the door flung open. It was almost as if he was scared that I was going to slam it back in his face. And I’ll admit, I wanted to.

  “Let’s go to the fire escape and talk.” I shrugged, barely even looking at him as I made off towards the kitchen window.

  I didn’t check to see if he was behind me. It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a demand. And if he hadn’t followed me out there, then the truth of the matter was that I wasn’t going to talk to him.

  I climbed out the window and onto the metal surface below. The wind was chilly, but honestly, I knew I’d probably need it to calm me down after talking with Mr. Sholts.

  He climbed out just behind me, and immediately I felt my blood begin to boil over again.

  “Go ahead. Talk!” I snapped, crossing my arms in front of my chest, as he looked off the fire escape to the street below.

  “Did you take me out here to push me into the street?” he joked.

  However, I didn’t laugh, and I didn’t smirk. I stood there, holding my ground. I wasn’t in the mood to laugh.

  “Look, I—” He looked to his feet and then up again, and I wondered if it was because he was afraid of heights. I knew that he could see the street below through the tiny lattice design in the metallic surface. I clenched my jaw tighter, remembering the beautiful night on the beautiful lattice boat, angry that everything seemed to remind me of how wonderful and magical it all was. “I don’t know how to apologize.”

  I looked at him, unblinking, holding my breath.

  “I’ve never done it before,” he continued.

  How could someone have gone throughout their entire life and never apologized to anyone? It didn’t make sense.

  “But I am sorry. I really am.” He reached out for my forearm, but I backed away, my back hitting the railing of the fire escape. “I shouldn’t have even remotely insinuated that you were a slut.”

  He was right. He shouldn’t have, but part of me wondered if I had been so upset because somewhere in the depths of my mind I actually felt like one, myself.

  “You were right.” I sighed under my breath.

  “No!” he yelled. “I wasn’t!” His face was stern, but his eyes were sad. They were red, and droopy, and moisture seemed to creep up in the brims. “You’re wonderful, and sure we had hot, passionate, angry sex, but that doesn’t make you a slut!”

  “What does it make me then?”

  “Human,” he said simply. “Don’t question yourself. You’re one of a kind.”

  “I have never done anything like that,” I said, my own tears threatening to pour.

  “I know.” He walked closer to me, hesitating in his steps. He was slow, making sure that he was allowed to move closer. “I’m begging you, please…give me one more chance.”

  I sucked in a deep breath, as he closed the distance between us and grabbed my forearms gently, moving them to the side.

  I felt the rush of heat envelop me as he stood barely an inch away
. He lowered his head to gaze into my eyes.

  “I beg of you…one more chance. If I mess up again, feel free to never speak to me for the rest of my life. Plus,” he added, “I told Jim’s manager to give him a promotion.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at the addition. Yet, I couldn’t let his decision to be kind to Jim dictate my stance on everything else. However, at the same time, he was begging me for forgiveness. Who was I to turn him down? Who was I to turn down a sick man? And I guess, what was one more chance when I had already given him so many?

  I sighed. I hated the pity card, but I did pity him. I sympathized with him more than I had ever sympathized with anyone. And I knew right then it was likely due to his charm. He was charming; that much was certain.

  “Okay,” I said, my hatred for him decreasing a bit.

  But what I knew now—more than ever—was that for some crazy ass reason, I didn’t hate Derek Sholts.

  Not by a long shot.

  Chapter 15

  “Will you go to my doctor’s appointment with me?” he asked, in a child-like manner, as we were finishing up work for the evening in his living room.

  He was seated at the couch, and as soon as the papers were filed away—by me, of course—he began lounging lazily. I had watched him from the corner of my eye as I began cleaning up our work-mess.

  But as soon as the question left his lips, my eyes darted over to him so that I was fully looking at him rather than looking only with the corner of my eye. I sighed. The question was a sad one, really. He had no one else to take him? He had no one else to go with him? It was then that I realized just how sad Derek Sholts life was…

  He had no one.

  Just me.

  His PR rep turned assistant…

  I was all he had.

  And for some reason, being all that someone had, was a little nice. I mean, sure, I felt the pressure, but there was something nice about being needed.

  “Sure,” I said, faintly, before flashing him a sideways smile.

  “But first,” he replied, raising up from the couch. “We go out.”

  My eyes rolled. It was nice to see that not even cancer could make a party-boy billionaire stay in for the evening. I mean, why would the rich need rest, I suppose…

  I groaned but agreed. I felt too invested to possibly let him go by himself. And I was glad that I had agreed, because where we ended up that night looked rough.

  As we pulled up, I noticed that Fredrick stayed in his car. And I couldn’t blame him. The place was called “The Hole”—and it really was a hole.

  A shit hole.

  The bar was dirty looking from the outside, and it was so small and out of the way that I was sure most didn’t know it even existed…

  It looked like a typical redneck bar from where I was from, and it was crazy to imagine that Derek would have ever been somewhere like it before.

  “Uh, who told you about this place?” I asked, a little worried as I gazed out the back window.

  “I just sort of found it months ago. I love it here.” And then my worst fears were realized. No one recommended it. Derek found it. But why would a man of his stature ever go to a place like this? It didn’t make sense.

  “Come on!” he reassured, pulling the door open, just before gently escorting me out. He grabbed my hand and together we walked in and what I saw on the inside was no more beautiful than the outside.

  There were maybe eight or nine guys in the entire bar. It was small, but there was plenty of room for more than double that.

  One single bartender comprised the bar, and around it a majority of the men sat. The pool table, tucked away in the corner, was unoccupied, and that was something I rarely ever saw in a bar back home. There were quarter lines on the side for people awaiting their turn. Indeed, it was strange.

  But something even more strange happened that evening…

  “Eric!” Six of the guys sitting around the bar yelled out in unison just before I felt him tense beside me. I almost laughed. Finally a place where they didn’t remember his name, a place where he wasn’t important enough.

  I wasn’t sure how he felt about it. But personally, I loved it. In fact, it almost made me like the place. Almost.

  He smiled and waved to the guys before joining them.

  “Hey guys… this is my girlfriend, Zoe,” he said in the friendliest tone I had ever heard him use and immediately I felt the wind knocked out of me.

  Girlfriend?

  “Hi, Zoe!” the men said in unison once again, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they all shared a brain.

  “Can we get a couple of beers, Jack!?” Derek called out to the lone bartender, and he smiled in response and immediately handed him a couple.

  “I’ll start you a tab, Eric.”

  “Thanks,” Derek replied, just before leaning in to whisper to me.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  It was the first bar that I had ever been to where someone could whisper and be heard. There was music playing, sure, but it was low—incredibly low for a bar atmosphere. And I had no problem hearing him over it.

  “My name is Eric here,” he whispered in a cool, soft fashion, and I could tell by his tone that he didn’t want me to leak it. It was a secret. His name was Eric. Not Derek. And he didn’t want me to say otherwise.

  And then I realized that they didn’t have his name wrong. Derek had lied about his name. Purposely.

  My only question was why.

  He handed me my beer—my lukewarm beer at that—and led me towards some of the tables nearby.

  “Why is your name Eric here?” I asked as soon as we had a seat—in a hushed tone so that others couldn’t overhear.

  “No one in this little hole in the wall recognized me when I first came in,” he said, amusedly. “And when I discovered the same regular ol’ people came in here—with the rarity of stragglers, I decided to make up a new name.”

  He smiled, proud of himself, and leaned back in his chair.

  “Derek Sholts has a problem with people recognizing him?” I asked, shocked. “Since when?”

  Derek was more than full of himself. You would think that he would love the attention.

  “Sometimes it gets old. Sometimes I just want a beer. Sometimes I want to be left alone… and sometimes I need to shoot the shit with a bartender and bar-goers without the worry of my words being sold to the highest media bidder.”

  I sighed, betting it was hard to always be in the spotlight.

  I had to wonder though, how was possible for people not to have recognized him? Did they not have internet? Did they not read magazines?

  Were they living under a rock?

  I scoffed, looking around the dingy old bar…not that this place was much different than living under a rock.

  “So it’s a place where you can be yourself?” I smirked.

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, Eric… who are you, exactly?”

  “I guess you’ll find out.” He smiled at me, and I back at him… and I wondered if Derek might finally show me who he really is…

  And the truth of it was, he did.

  At least, I hoped it was who he was.

  We played tipsy Jenga with the bar’s large foot-long pieces, and then we played pool. We were the only two who actually played the entire night, in fact.

  It was funny how good he was at Jenga and pool, really. And it took me a moment to remember that Derek Sholts hadn’t always been rich, and he hadn’t always been extraordinary.

  Derek Sholts used to be ordinary.

  Well, to everyone else he was ordinary. Derek Sholts was born extraordinarily brilliant; that much was true… but there was a time that Derek Sholts did ordinary things, with ordinary people.

  And I was glad to get a glimpse of the past that night in the bar.

  It made me truly believe, without a shadow of a doubt, that I might have been wrong about him all along. Something of his past-self might be left. Derek Sholts might actually—somewhere deep
inside—still be that little inventive boy whom he used to be.

  He leaned against me, as I held the pool stick in my hand, trying to teach me how to properly shoot. And I could do nothing but smirk. He might have thought I didn’t know what I was doing.

  But I did know what I was doing.

  And when push came to shove and we decided to play one on one, I smoked him.

  I didn’t know what I enjoyed more, beating him, or the fact that he didn’t see it coming.

  All I knew was that I enjoyed it. Probably a bit too much as I smiled, smugly, relishing in the moment. “Remember, I’m not your typical, every day girl. I know a thing or two.” I laughed, twirling the pool stick in my hand before doing a small dance with it.

  I could hear the guys at the bar snickering, and that almost made it even better. They had seen him lose, and even if they didn’t know it was Derek Sholts, it was still enough for me that other people had at least seen it.

  He smiled back at me and replied, “No. You’re definitely not typical.”

  Chapter 16

  After an exhausting night of drinking, I slept at his place—in his guest room—so that I could be ready to go first thing in the morning to accompany him to his doctor’s appointment.

  One thing I didn’t know before agreeing to go was that his appointment was with a doctor located an hour away. Why he wanted to go to that specific doctor, I didn’t know, but he did. He said that the man was his doctor, and he didn’t trust anyone else.

  I thought it was cute. But it didn’t mean it wasn’t inconvenient.

  More so for Fredrick though, I was sure, who drove us the entire way.

  For us, the drive went fairly quickly. Or at least for me it did. Derek and I conversed about the night before, our interests, and goals for the future—almost like we were two people rather than just boss and employee—and it seemed to pass the time in a wonderful manner.

  What didn’t pass the time quickly though… was waiting in the doctor’s office.