HATE LOVE: A Billionaire Boss Romance

by Katie Ford

  “Wow, castles?” Mia asked, impressed, pulling her own bike to a stop. “That’s pretty awesome.”

  I threw my head back and laughed. As Americans, castles were rarely seen in the New World, something that lived in our imaginations. And right there, I vowed to take Mia to a castle one day, to show her the wonders of the world.

  “Yeah, it is amazing, I agree. And we’ll go together,” I vowed, looking deep into those caramel eyes. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

  Her sweet smile almost blew me away.

  “Really Theo?” she said softly. “We’ll see castles and forests and Robin Hood together?”

  It sounded like a fairy tale, but the truth was that I wanted to be her Prince Charming. I wanted Mia to have everything at her fingertips, guiding her through the exploration. The beautiful brunette had me entranced and on my knees.

  Shit. How had this happened? But a lot of changes had overtaken my life recently, and I rolled with it.

  We rode the rest of the way to the main building. “Come on, sweetheart, after you,” I said, holding the heavy glass door open.

  But before we went our separate ways, Mia spun and planted a kiss on my lips, her mouth hot, soft and sweet beneath mine.

  “Later,” she promised on a whisper. “Later, Mr. Wainwright.”

  And shit, but I was ready to tear off her clothes right then and there. This girl made my body harden, everything zeroing in on her warm softness without a second thought.

  But later was later, and with a last sassy wave, Mia was gone. Shit, this sucked. Back to work.

  When I got to my office, Penny greeted me with a pained expression. “Hello,” she said, lips pursed. “How are you Mr. Wainwright?” Her tone was sharp and cold.

  I decided to ignore her foul mood. Hell, the woman worked for me and not the other way around.

  “Any meetings this afternoon?” I said.

  She pursed her lips even more, looking like she was sucking a sour lemon.

  “You have a meeting with Brandon in fifteen.”

  I sighed. Shit. Sometimes I feel like a mom, forced to babysit my kids nonstop. With a sigh, I leaned against her desk.

  “What’s up?” I said. “Spit it out. Is something wrong?”

  Penny rolled her eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh herself.

  “What makes you think so?” she said. “Is my hair off or something?” She patted her elaborate bun.

  To be honest, it was. The red strands were intricately braided, ending in a poof on top of her head with a couple bright clips thrown in. I got it. Women’s hairdos could take a lot of time, but I much preferred Mia’s natural wash and go style. I wanted to wrap her curls around my dick at night, and not have to disentangle it first from tons of spray and gel, not to mention the sparkly things that held it together.

  “Okay, great,” I said dismissively, standing up again. “Just wanted to be sure.”

  “All’s good, Mr. Wainwright,” she cooed. “We’re good here.”

  But there was something about her tone that made me jerk around and look at her sharply. Something about her words had been eerie. Was she laughing at me somehow? The sparkle in her eye assured me that wasn’t the case, but I have a sixth sense about these things.

  Shit. I was wasting time on secretaries and mundane stuff that shouldn’t have taken more than five seconds. Heaving my big form around, I strode into my office, putting the uneasy thoughts away.

  And work did it. There was nothing like some solid work to get your mind off the small stuff. I went through my emails and checked the status of the latest Pictogram build. Everything looked great, and Mia’s changes were remarkable. Hiring her had been my best decision this year by far, not to mention the impact she’d had on my sex drive.

  A glutton for punishment, my eyes scanned the latest news articles about me. Total bullshit with allegations that some of the girls had been “pressured” into the orgy, but whatever. At least the gossip was dying down a bit compared to the shitstorm from five months ago.

  My interview with Jimmy Fallon helped. It was a chance to humanize myself instead of coming off as some god-type that no one could identify with. As a result, we’d had a two percent uptick in account sign-ups. Pure publicity magic.

  Just then, a knock sounded.

  “Come,” I said.

  Brandon bounded in like a giant Golden Retriever, complete with a huge smile and lolling tongue.

  “Yo Theo! You check out the latest build?”

  I nodded with a grunt. “Sure did.”

  He chortled then. “Your new employee is doing a fantastic job, we never thought of that until she came on-board. Any chance the girl can come on full time?” Brandon asked hopefully.

  I sighed.

  “Doubtful, my friend. She wants to finish her degree. Trust me, I asked.”

  “Why?” he asked puzzled. “Good programmers don’t need degrees; their work speaks for itself.”

  “True.” I nodded, swiveling my chair around to look down at the company floor. Ah, there she was, hunched over a desk. “But it’s something about her mom and being the first to go to college in her family. You can’t say no to that.”

  Brandon’s nose scrunched. “Yeah, I guess,” he said reluctantly. “Family pressure will do it to you, I tell ya. Listen,” he said, plunking down a stack of papers. “Here are some proposed changes for the next build.” He made his way to the door. “Whatever you do, Theo, don’t let her go.”

  I grunted, looking downwards. I had no intention of letting Mia escape. Ever. She was perfect.

  Suddenly my head jerked upwards. Because what the hell? Ever? As in “forever”? What in the world was happening? I was a short-term guy, the kind of person who used women. Hell, I wouldn’t even say I’ve had a real girlfriend before because the ladies I used were more love ‘em and leave ‘em types. So what the hell was this “forever” thing? Had I lost my mind?

  With trembling fingers, I called the one person that came to mind: Gabe. Once upon a time, we’d been two lost boys together in the orphanage, scrabbling for food and getting in fights. Now, thirty years later, things were different. I was a corporate tycoon whereas Gabe was married with a kid, leading a happy, stable life in middle-management. But best friends are best friends, and we never lost touch despite our divergent paths.

  My buddy picked up on the first ring.

  “Hey, Theo! Caught you on TV the other day. Nice work, dude. Teeth look good.”

  I had to snort because Gabe was a dentist and never hesitated to give his professional opinion on someone’s molars.

  “Thanks, Dr. Stevens. I’ll make an appointment. I promise,” I replied.

  “You got it, big boy. Now, what’s up? You caught me right between patients.”

  “I know, I know,” I apologized. “But just hear me out okay? Because…” I took a deep breath. “I think I’ve lost my mind.”

  Gabe let out a raucous laugh. “You mean with that orgy stuff? Naw, forget it, buddy. Nothing illegal happened, and besides, it’s dying down. You’re going to be fine.”

  I shook my head. “No, not that. Or not just that,” I said in a low voice. “There’s more. A woman.”

  You could hear a pin drop.

  “A woman?” asked Gabe. “And a special one, I take it?”

  My head shook again. “More than that. I think I’m in love.”

  At least my friend had the courtesy not to burst into wild laughter. Instead, he whistled, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard right.

  “Love? You, Theo Wainwright? Mr. CEO? What happened to never let your walls down, take no prisoners, the stud of Silicon Valley?”

  I snorted. “Listen, no one wants to be a sex god forever. That shit gets old.”

  But Gabe isn’t my oldest friend for nothing, and he called me out.

  “You’re forty-five dude, living a crazy life for twenty years. It’s only getting old now?”

  “Shut up,” I snapped, really getting annoyed now. “Seriously, mothe
rfucker. The quips are getting old.”

  “Okay, okay,” Gabe backed off. “What is it?”

  I took a deep breath.

  “Well, I’m in over my head,” I said. “Freaky obsessed. I can’t stop thinking about her, and when I’m not with her, I want to call her.” I shook my head in disbelief about what I was saying. “Can you believe it? Like some seventh grade puppy dog crush. It’s unbelievable.”

  Gabe laughed. “What? You’ve never had a conversation with a woman on the phone?” he asked.

  “God no!” I said. “That’s what texting is for. You don’t want to get caught in some twenty-minute conversation with no out, it’s fucking painful. Besides, before now, no one I dated had anything particular interesting to say.”

  “That’s true,” Gabe said slowly. “Your past girlfriends were, ah, a little on the ditzy side.”

  “A little?” I grunted. “More like they had bags of rocks as brains.”

  “True, true,” said Gabe reflectively. “But still, why are you calling? It’s natural to fall in love.”

  A snort escaped me once more. “Love? Who said anything about love?”

  There was silence for a moment before my friend spoke truth to power. “You, my man. That’s all I’ve heard on this phone call. You’re in love,” he said simply.

  Oh shit. Gabe was right. I hadn’t wanted to admit it, least of all to myself, but he’d seen straight through to the heart of the matter. I was in love with Mia Smith, head over heels, off the reservation, and I had no idea what to do about it.

  “So?” I asked, voice rising with urgency. “What next?”

  “What do you mean, what next?” said Gabe patiently. “All the regular things, what else? Dates, taking her on vacations, helping her with whatever she needs. Who’s the lucky girl by the way?”

  “Her name is Mia,” I said. And as the name left my lips, I knew everything Gabe had said was true. I was in love, and my girl’s name on my lips was like a prayer to the gods.

  Oh shit, oh shit, how had this happened? I was a powerful titan without a care in the world. And yet somehow, this sweet brunette had turned my world upside down both personally and professionally. I wanted to make Mia’s life sweet, to give her everything she wanted. I wanted to spend the rest of my days making her cry out with ecstasy.

  This forever stuff was real.

  Holy shit.

  And after hanging up with Gabe, my head spun. How to show Mia how much I cared? There had to be a way. With endless resources, anything was possible.

  Suddenly, my mind spun naturally to jewelry. Wasn’t that what every female wanted? Like a crazed man, my fingers tapped on the keyboard, rushing to the websites of Tiffany, Cartier, and Van Cleef and Arpels. There had to be something suitable for my stunning brunette.

  But amazingly, those stores were pretty boring with variations of the same stuff. So I went bold and started looking up estate auctions. Holy shit. There was one going on tomorrow with dozens of fancy pieces, but one item in particular caught my eye. It was a marvelous emerald and diamond necklace made by Harry Winston, designed for a princess a century ago. Imagining Mia draped in jewels, the robin’s egg emerald pendant nestled between those full breasts was just right.

  I called my stylist, Perry, for help.

  “Perry,” I said. He was a concierge for rich people, procuring anything they asked for. It paid to roll in dough because you could buy anyone or anything.

  “Mr. Wainwright, hello!” he said. “How can I help you?”

  “Perry, question: I’m interested in a necklace going up for auction soon. Can you handle that for me?”

  Perry’s voice perked up. “Of course, sir. You know that jewelry is my specialty.”

  I didn’t, but it figured since Perry himself often wore pinky rings on both pinkies.

  “Great, I’ll send over the details. Do whatever it takes to get it, okay?”

  He paused for a moment, the phone line almost quivering.

  “Do you mean no limits, sir? There’s no limit to how much I can bid?”

  “That’s right,” I said. “Like I said, whatever it takes.”

  Perry almost squealed then, the whine like nails on chalkboard.

  “Oooh, I’m so excited. Yes, sir! Can’t wait!”

  But before he could go on, I cut him off. “And while you’re buying the necklace, see if there’s something else that matches. You know, like a ring or earrings or something.”

  The personal shopper’s voice fell to a near-hush. “You mean like a set?”

  “Exactly like I set,” I growled, voice rough. “Plus pick a dress for the lady, something formal and long, and a suit for me. I’ll send over the sizes.”

  “Of course sir,” the other man said obsequiously. “More than happy to.”

  And with that, I hung up. This was probably going to be the highlight of Perry’s career, and yet all I could think about was that gorgeous emerald nestled between Mia’s breasts. That, and ripping the brand-new dress off her curvy body. My dick hardened, my balls on fire. Hell yeah, it was going to be good.

  Because suddenly, everything was clear. I was in love with the gorgeous Mia Smith and nothing was too good for my best girl.

  Chapter 9

  Mia

  It had been a crazy week for me between exams at school and an upcoming new Pictogram release on Friday, but it was okay because I loved what I was doing. That was what Theo had done for me. The billionaire provided me an opportunity to shine, putting me in a situation where I can’t help but succeed.

  I’m grateful for that because before, it seemed like no matter how hard I tried, it just didn’t make a difference. Sure, my programs were good but brogrammers merely sneered, sure that some guy had taken pity and done the work for me. The resulting scorn made me hide behind my curls, shy and ashamed even though there was no reason.

  But now, things were different. Theo demanded respect at Pictogram, and that went for male and female engineers alike. Plus, my Mark Janow ad had made me into somewhat of a celebrity, and the boys didn’t snigger behind my back anymore.

  But still, work was work, and I couldn’t let Jill down. She was my oldest friend, confidante, and trusty lab partner. Besides, why would I want to let her down? My friend was a fantastic coder, and had had a critical part in my so-called success. So even though everything had changed, in some ways, nothing had changed as well because right now, Jill and I were sequestered in the computer lab, slaving away while drinking cold coffee and eating pizza.

  Suddenly, she looked up from her computer screen. “It’s amazing,” she gasped.

  I bit my fingernail, chewing away at my doubt. “You sure? Do you want run some more automated tests?”

  My friend laughed. “No. We’ve run it like ten times. It passes all the tests every time.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. You’re right.”

  Jilly pulled a face at me. “You’ve been working your ass off, Mia. You’ve barely slept all week what with this project and your consulting job,” she said, tossing me a bag of Lucky Charms.

  Giggling like old times, I picked out three marshmallows, throwing them in my mouth.

  “I know. It’s been intense, right?”

  Jill interrupted, playfully snatching the bag from me. “Rule violation!”

  “What?” I said, shocked. “What’d I do? Not now, Jilly, seriously I’m so tired.”

  And to my surprise, she actually handed the cereal bag back. “Just kidding, Mia. Geez, you look so tired. You wanna get some fries or something? Or more pizza? Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  But I just shook my head, packing up my bag. “I would, but I’m beat. Next time, okay?”

  And making a face at me, Jilly nodded. “Okay, but don’t eat the green marshmallows next time. You know those are my favorite.”

  I had to laugh because frankly, all the marshmallows in Lucky Charms tasted the same to me, no matter their shape or color. Wasn’t it just industrial food, designed to
make us want more?

  But I nodded. “Sure thing Jilly. And by the way,” I said hesitantly. “I never thanked you.”

  She slung her backpack over her shoulder as we walked out of the lab. “For what? The Lucky Charms?”

  I stopped briefly at the placard that read Lab Facilities Donated by Pictogram and paused, reflecting on the changes in my life.

  “No, Jilly,” I said, turning to face my friend. “I meant to thank you for taking my picture and uploading it to Pictogram. And sticking by me after, even when I was freaking out.”

  “Oh that,” scoffed the blonde. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “Besides, now that you have the hunky Theo Wainwright, how about someone for me? Got any other rich CEOs lying around?”

  I burst into laughter then, because Jill will always be Jill. Trust my best friend to talk about hunky CEOs, Lucky Charms, and pizza all in the same sentence.

  “No,” I said truthfully. “But how about a CTO? Would that be good enough?”