The Brazilian Billionaire's Blackmail Bargain

by Lara Hunter

Emily sipped her champagne and set her flower on the table, gazing down at it for a moment while Tariq looked at the menu.

  “Looks like your perilous decision ended up being for naught,” she said quietly.

  “Oh yeah, why’s that?”

  “Turns out my boss either had a full blown lobotomy, or he traded personalities with his complete opposite. He did a complete turn-around today.”

  “You don’t say,” Tariq said, now hiding his grin with his hand.

  “Yeah, he lightened my work load and even gave me a big account I’ve been begging to take over for months now.”

  “It’s not like you run sales through, right?” Tariq asked curiously.

  “I do now,” she said eagerly. “It’s a big deal. I’ve been trying to work my way up to sales and management for years now. It shows they trust me.”

  Suddenly Emily felt uncomfortable. Sure, they trusted her, but they shouldn’t have. Maybe she should have been more appreciative to Mike for giving her a shot.

  “I’m glad things worked out for you.”

  “Yeah,” Emily said happily and finally opened her menu. She loved fancy restaurants. She had tried to go with an ex-boyfriend once but all he did was complain about the small portions and how hungry he was after the meal—they had ended up going out for fries afterward. It had seemed funny at the time, but now she only remembered it as embarrassing. Something told her the experience with the Sheikh would hardly be the same.

  Emily didn’t fancy herself materialistic or high maintenance, by any means. She lived in a modest apartment and could barely pay her rent as it was. Sometimes it was just nice to be taken care of, for a change; not to worry about every little thing. She’d hoped landing the job with Salt River Resorts would ease her financial woes. The job paid well, sure, but her financial debts made her feel unenthusiastic about her paychecks. She’d worked her whole life to move out of her mother’s house and be out from under her thumb. Now she was two past-due bills away from moving back in.

  Not that her mother could afford that, either.

  “I have to admit I may have already been aware of your good fortune,” Tariq said as he closed his menu and set it on the table.

  “Good sir,” she teased, “You didn’t tell me that amidst your many talents as a flower picker and hotel mogul, you could also read minds!”

  The pair chuckled together, but Tariq didn’t move to elaborate.

  Emily gave him the once over and slowly her smile fell from her face. “Okay but really, how would you know that?”

  “Well, I might have had a word with the owners.”

  She blanched. “Of Salt River Resorts?”

  “Yes. Remember how I told you I had a meeting with the Board the night of the auction?” he asked, and Emily nodded. “I’m not exactly just a hotel mogul. My company buys smaller companies and expands them. I’m actually in talks about a buy-out of Salt River.”

  Emily took a moment to process what the Sheikh was saying to her; her mind was racing with questions. Why didn’t he tell her this right away?

  “So what you’re saying is… I’m dating the boss?”

  He breathed hard through his nose; amused. “Not quite. Even so, after you told me about Mike’s behavior, I knew I wanted it taken care of. I had a word with the owner and I guess it must have gone down the chain of command.”

  “How romantic,” she said wryly.

  “I didn’t just do it for you,” he added. “Middle managers treating employees like slaves or pawns because of their own personal issues isn’t something I’m interested in having at my company.”

  “Ah,” she said and tried to keep a neutral look on her face. The truth was she was incredibly flattered. The only person that ever stood up for her at work was Lindsey, and that was more out of her dislike for Mike than her protection of Emily. The thought was nice, and it did work out that Mike was being a whole lot more civilized to her, but the fact that Tariq was handling her affairs in secret suddenly seemed both sweet and nerve-wracking at the same time.

  “Besides,” he said dismissively, watching at the waitress approached to take their orders, “there’s enough drama at Salt River. I don’t need to add Mike’s petty jealousy to the list.”

  Emily’s eyes shot open. “What do you mean?” she tried to say calmly. Her question went unanswered, however, as the waitress began asking her for her order. She looked down at the menu and quickly ordered the salmon, hoping to get back to the conversation at hand.

  Tariq ordered slowly and asked for more champagne to be brought to the table. As the waitress left he fussed with his napkin, sipping the last of his champagne. “So what was it like growing up an only child,” he asked earnestly. “My family is huge.”

  “What was that you were saying about problems at Salt River?” Emily tried to redirect the conversation as charmingly as she could. She couldn’t let the subject go.

  “Oh, right!” he said with a snap of his fingers. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, I’m sure, but since you’re ‘dating the boss’ now I should at least give you the inside scoop, right? Well, my lawyers were actually going through the company accounts—we do this to make sure we’re not taking too much debt when we acquire a company.”

  “Uh-huh,” she murmured.

  “We ended up seeing a lot of money missing from the accounts, unaccounted for.” He leaned in and whispered, “We’re talking thousands of dollars, here. This isn’t exactly a joy for us, right? I mean, we don’t want to take on a company that’s basically an audit waiting to happen. So,” he shrugged, “we told them we wouldn’t sign off on the buy-out until the thief was discovered.”

  Emily blinked in surprise, unable to quite believe what her crush was telling her. He was the reason her job was in jeopardy. It was his company who was about to out her and ruin her career. Nobody would hire her after this got out.

  She exhaled slowly and her eyes became lost in her glass of champagne, which she then downed quickly.

  “Makes sense, right?” Tariq asked suddenly, interrupting her thoughts.

  “Yeah, makes total sense,” she said unenthusiastically. She set her jaw; her hands sweating profusely. What would Tariq think of her once he found out she stole from the very company he wanted to buy? He would never look at her the same way again.

  “Are you all right, Emily? You’ve gone pale on me!”

  He was right. She could feel the color had left her face; shock taking over. She breathed something close to a laugh and shook her head as if she were being silly. “Yeah, I’m all right,” she said sweetly. “I was just… thinking about the buyout. Like, if you buy the company, that means my colleagues and I will probably lose our jobs, right? And I mean,” she gestured with her hands, “not to pat us on the back or anything, but we’re pretty great.”

  “Of that, I have no doubt!” he said assuredly, moving his hands away from the table as the waitress set down their entrees. “And trust me, no one is going to be losing their job, aside from a couple bad eggs. Besides that, everyone’s staying put.”

  “Oh, good! That makes me feel so much better,” she lied and glanced down at her plate. She raised her brows and gazed at the gorgeous man across from her. “Looks delicious.”

  “It will be,” he smiled warmly. “Now, moving onto more pleasant topics, I have a meeting that’s going to take me to New York for a couple days.”

  “That’s happier news?” she said with a disappointed pout. “I just found you, and now you’re leaving!”

  Her comment hung in the air for a moment as the Sheikh processed the statement. As strange as it seemed, it was true. She hadn’t dated in the longest time. It wasn’t as though there weren’t men available, she just wasn’t interested in any of them. When Emily met someone she liked, she knew right away. There had to be a spark there, and with Tariq, there weren’t only sparks—there were fireworks.

  “I know,” he said with a similar pout in his tone. “But that’s not the good part. I was hoping, in order t
o make up for my absence, I might whisk you away the following Friday?”

  She paused; hesitance battling against her inner romantic telling her a gorgeous, sweet, and charming man wanted to take her away from her problems and make her feel like a princess. The choice seemed obvious, though there was a gnawing feeling telling her things were moving amazingly fast.

  “You don’t think that’s too fast?” she blurted out; her face going red. “I mean I don’t think it’s too fast, I just— I mean, what if you get sick of me?”

  “Impossible,” he retorted. “You’re too sweet, too beautiful, and too thoughtful to ever get sick of.”

  She nearly scoffed, her eyes roaming the table as her mind raced with thoughts. “You sure about that?”

  He reached his hand across the table to grab hers. His skin was warm; his touch strong and comforting somehow. “I’ve never been more certain of anything, Emily. So, come on, don’t leave me hanging. Do I have the distinct pleasure of your unmatchable company next weekend?”

  Emily went to say no, to be logical and do what her mind told her to do, but then a new feeling sprung up from deep in her stomach. No. Forget logic. This time, she was going to follow her heart. She may not have known him for long, but if there wasn’t something special between her and the Sheikh, she’d never been right about anything in her entire life.

  “Yes. Yes, I will,” Emily squealed, both she and the Sheikh’s eyes widening with excitement at the thought of going away together. “Where are we headed?”

  “Don’t get me started,” he said jovially as he cut into his meal. “I could barely choose a flower for you! Let’s make the destination of our rendezvous a secret, for now.”

  “A man of mystery. I love it.” She paused, sipping her champagne. “Have I mentioned I love surprises?”

  “You hadn’t,” he said. He raised his glass toward Emily’s and gave a ‘cheers’ before taking a small sip from his beverage. “Emily, the more I get to know you, the more I believe this is the start of a beautiful friendship… and then some.”

  “And then some,” she repeated coyly.

  SIX

  Her whole life, Emily had faced endless questions as to why she liked math, and why she’d chosen to pursue a career based on numbers. She didn’t just like math, she loved it. Her first ‘job’ was in seventh grade, tutoring some of the girls in her math class to help them get a passing grade before finals. She loved a challenge; she loved explaining her methods to crack the ever-frustrating numerical code. She had friends who abhorred the subject and said it was too difficult. Emily disagreed completely.

  Relationships were difficult. Numbers were easy.

  In the week of Tariq’s work-related absence, Emily couldn’t help but finding herself missing him more and more as each day passed. She thought to send him a text message here and there but didn’t want to disturb or distract him from his business.

  By the time Friday morning arrived, Emily’s body was practically aching to meet up with the Sheikh once more. Her workday flew by and all of a sudden she’d been in her apartment for over an hour, fussing with her hair, attempting to pack, and wrestling with her indescribable desire to talk to Tariq.

  In only a few hours’ time, Emily would be on her way to a surprise destination with a man she couldn’t get enough of. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d dated someone who had made her feel so irreplaceable. Probably never, if she really thought about it.

  She walked across her bedroom with a pile of clothes in her hands, packing for various conditions. Shorts, jeans, yoga pants, bikini if she was feeling like a showoff, a one-piece swimsuit for modesty. It felt so strange to be tossing a little black dress, a pair of sunglasses, and a heavy jacket all into the same luggage. But then again, she thought with a grin, that was the nature of packing for a surprise.

  As the week had crawled by, Emily had continued to tell herself not to get her hopes up. She’d found herself waking up in the middle of the night with that inner gut feeling like something was wrong. She’d wandered the house countless times to make sure her curling wand and kitchen stove weren’t still turned on. Finally, she’d realized that the gnawing feeling she kept experiencing was a swarm of nervous butterflies.

  Once back in bed, she would stare up at the spackled ceiling and wonder, over and over, what did a guy like Tariq want with a girl like her? The Sheikh was attentive, attractive, and rich, whereas Emily was an accountant who rambled nervously and blushed at everything. Oh yeah, and she was also a thief. Not exactly great girlfriend material.

  She set a few more items into her red luggage bag, cramming socks and underwear into the empty corners before attempting to zip the overstuffed bag shut.

  Finally, she caved and found herself texting the Sheikh. She tapped her thumbs against her phone a few times but couldn’t bring herself to actually write anything.

  “Emily, don’t be such a chicken!” she chided herself and then chided herself again for talking to herself out loud. It was something her mother did constantly and as a teenager, it had driven Emily up the wall. Now she’d become her mother. What’s more, she’d become close to her mother. She never thought that would happen.

  Through Emily’s teenage years, she and her mother had had what one could politely refer to as a tumultuous relationship. She’d thought her mother was too carefree; too caught up with her freedom from marriage and too wrapped up in relationships to be a good mother.

  Her parents’ divorce hadn’t helped Emily’s belief in fairy tales; when she was eleven years old, she distinctly remembered her father leaving for work one morning. Once his car disappeared down the road, her mother packed her up in the back of a two-door sedan without a word and drove from Colorado to Arizona to live with Emily’s aunt. And that was it.

  “I love you, see you tonight” turned into “see you never,” and that phrase had haunted Emily forever. She could literally feel herself sabotaging her romantic relationships once they became serious in fear that they would turn into a carbon copy of her parents’ marriage.

  And why wouldn’t they? She was turning into her mother, after all.

  She made an inner vow not to do the same to Tariq if things got serious. She stared back down at the cellphone in her hands and erased her message, throwing the phone onto the bed. Fumbling back to the kitchen where she had been cooking, she stirred the soup that sat in a saucepan and pondered the last few days: the unmistakable feeling of missing someone, her work, and her strange and suddenly accommodating boss. Everything seemed to be going well, and that scared her more than anything.

  Just then, Emily’s phone went off. She raced to her bed and took the device into her hands. It was a text message from Tariq.

  Mysterious and romantic as ever, all the note said was: Meet me at the airport.

  Emily raced for her passport, grabbed her luggage and phone, and with one last glance around her apartment she was off to the airport.

  ***

  Things seemed to be moving so quickly with Tariq—quicker than they had with anyone before. While the idea of going away with a man she’d only ever met a handful of times sounded fast, Emily couldn’t help but be flattered and intrigued at the prospect of getting away. Ironically enough, for a girl who worked at one of the biggest travel companies in Arizona, she hadn’t taken a holiday in years.

  The airport was packed as ever and Emily wasn’t exactly sure of where she was supposed to meet Tariq, but luckily he spotted her at the entrance. She ran up and gave him a warm hug which he returned with a kiss on the lips.

  “Well hello,” he said, leaning in for another kiss.

  “Hi back,” she replied sweetly. “So where are we headed, mystery man?”

  “Not inside the airport,” he said plainly and walked up to a private car that was waiting by the curb. “Come with me.”

  They hopped in and drove only a few minutes past the terminal building before they pulled up on a runway and stopped in front of a large gray jet.

 
Of course, Emily thought, the man has a private helicopter, so why not a private jet?

  Tariq stepped out of the car and opened the door for Emily to get out. Grabbing their luggage, the Sheikh began walking toward the plane.

  “Private jet?” she said, purposely looking unimpressed.

  “You guessed it,” he tapped his nose. “Am I impressing you yet? I’m really trying to pull out all the stops here.”

  “Eh,” she joked with a shrug. “I’ve seen better.”

  In truth, Emily had never seen a private jet up close before, let alone been inside one.

  As it turned out, the plane was absolutely beautiful. She assumed that, for Tariq, walking onto his own jet fell under the ‘old hat’ category these days, but for her, it was like stepping into Cinderella’s pumpkin carriage. She looked around in awe at the opulence of it—how high-class she felt, how worthy. The cabin had black damask carpeting and beige lounge chairs throughout; there was also a dining table, tufted couch, minibar, flat-screen television, and a separate room in the back with a beautiful queen-sized bed in it.