* * *
Angela stepped out of the luxury car that Anderson had sent over to her apartment to pick her up and take her to the restaurant they were meeting at for a nice romantic dinner. The restaurant was called Chez LaFre’ and it offered an exquisite selection of top-of-the-line French cuisine. Angela thanked the limousine driver and walked into the front entrance of the huge, fancy, 5-star-rated French restaurant.
Her eyes lit up with wonder as she entered the lobby area of Chez LaFre’. It was one of the most beautiful restaurants she had ever set foot inside of. She looked around in awe as the host, who was dressed in a stylish black tuxedo, led her toward an elegantly-decorated private VIP booth up on the veranda area of the large venue.
Angela saw Anderson sitting in a comfy little VIP-area dinner booth, talking on his cell phone. He looked incredibly handsome in his three-piece teal-colored silk suit. His shirt was a multi-colored one, form-fitting, accentuating the well-defined muscles of his toned arms. He had the jacket lying beside him on the seat of the booth and his hair looked extra-thick and shiny in the dim lighting of the restaurant. The well-dressed Hispanic-looking restaurant host led her to the table and motioned for her to sit down in the booth across from Anderson.
“You look ravishing, darling,” Anderson said, standing up to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. He pulled out her chair and she sat down. Anderson sat back down across from her.
“Thanks. So do you! As usual,” Angela replied, flashing him a smile
“I took the liberty of ordering us a fine bottle of imported white wine and I also ordered an absolutely scrumptious appetizer I think you will like,” Anderson told her. He opened the bottle of wine and proceeded to fill their glasses.
“I’m really glad you invited me out to dinner tonight, Anderson. This place is incredible,” Angela commented, her eyes wide with impression.
Anderson loved the way Angela always expressed her appreciation to him.
“Anything to keep a smile on that beautiful face of yours,” Anderson stated with a grin. Angela blushed like a school girl, in spite of herself.
“There’s something I want to talk to you about, Anderson,” Angela said. She felt her heartrate begin to increase as the feeling of nervousness started to take over. “And I have to admit, I’m really nervous about it.”
Just then, the waiter brought over their appetizer and set it down on the table. The aroma of the food made Angela’s mouth water.
“Are you ready to order?” the well-dressed waiter asked them.
“Give us just a few moments, please,” Anderson told him.
“Sure, monsieur,” the waiter replied and walked off.
“What is it, Angela? I would like to think that you would be able to talk to me about anything,” he said in a soft, comforting voice. His face showed genuine concern.
“Well … I ... um,” Angela stammered, fidgeting uncomfortably in her seat. Anderson reached across the table and took her hand.
“Angela, please. What is it?” His gorgeous eyes were searching hers. It made her heart melt.
“Well, I was just … um … wondering. What are we? You know?” She looked at him with questioning eyes. “I mean, I always enjoy myself in ways I never have before when I’m with you. I’ve never felt so alive, so free, and so happy. But I want you to understand that if I am only a phase, only a passing fling, I am okay with it, as long as I get to spend as much time with you as possible while it lasts.”
Anderson grew quiet for a moment, as if allowing her words to fully sink in.
“How do you feel about me, Angela?” he asked her with a soft, but serious look on his face.
“Honestly? I am in love with you, Anderson. I have been for a while now. I just wasn’t sure how you felt about me, so I didn’t want to bring it up. I didn’t want to make things weird between us, you know?”
“Are you still seeing that Mark guy?” he asked her.
There it was. He knew about Mark. Actually, Angela wasn’t all that surprised that he knew. She knew Anderson was no dummy and that he had friends and associates all over the area. She just hadn’t been sure whether he cared or not. Angela lowered her head, feeling just a tad bit ashamed for some reason.
“Mark and I have a past. He wasn’t the worst boyfriend in the world, but he wasn’t the best either. He came back into my life right before you and I met. I never thought that you and I would end up where we are, and I wasn’t sure if we were going to be a serious ‘thing’ or just a passing ‘fling.’ So, I guess I was sort of keeping him around as … insurance of some sort, kind of a back-up plan.”
“Just in case things between you and I didn’t work out,” Anderson added. It was more of a statement than it was a question. He said it as if he had known all along.
“Please understand, Anderson, I have never met anyone like you before. You are a man who has everything in the world and you could have any woman you wanted. I was just scared that whatever you saw in me would eventually wear off, you know? I was afraid you would get bored with me and move on to the next new and exciting young woman who happened to catch your eye.”
Anderson listened to her quietly, allowing her to completely state her piece.
“If you could have your way, what would you want us to be?” he asked her.
“If I could have my way, Anderson, I would want to be with you for the rest of my life,” Angela answered.
“I want to tell you something that I probably should have told you a while ago,” Anderson began. “I have dated plenty of different kinds of women in my lifetime. Models, actresses, dancers, you name it, women from all kinds of different backgrounds and social statuses. You see, it’s easy to find a woman, but it’s very hard to find a woman like you.” He emphasized the word “you” and looked directly into Angela’s eyes. “You are beautiful, intelligent, driven, independent, yet still so submissive, and you are also sweet, kind and amazing in bed. You are the kind of woman I could see myself settling down with.
“You are happy whether we go to a 5-star restaurant or a have a turkey sandwich picnic in the park. You don’t need any of the things I choose to do for you, but you appreciate all of them. I can trust you with my business, and I feel like I could also trust you with my heart. I just didn’t understand what it was about that Mark that you just couldn’t seem to let him go. So I wasn’t sure if this was where you truly wanted to be. So I just never pressed the issue.”
Angela’s eyes filled up with tears of happiness that threatened to spill over and run down her cheeks.
“So what are you saying, Anderson?” Angela asked in soft voice, barely louder than a hoarse whisper.
“I’m saying that I want you to be my woman and my woman, only. If that’s what you want as well,” Anderson replied, giving her hand a little squeeze.
“Oh, Anderson! That’s exactly what I want! I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life!” Angela allowed her tears of joy to run freely down her cheeks. She was overwhelmed with emotion. She reached out and grabbed Anderson’s other hand and squeezed them both.
“These are the only tears I ever want to see in your eyes,” Anderson said, reaching up to wipe one of them away. Angela smiled at him as another tear replaced it. He leaned in and kissed the other tear as he placed something in her hand.
“What’s this?” she asked him, wiping away a stray tear.
“I want you to go in the ladies’ room and put it in your panties, right up against your clit. I have the remote in my hand. When you come out, you’re going to call this Mark character and tell him it’s over.”
Angela’s heart began to race again. This time, it was with excitement. She grinned at Anderson and leaned in to give him a kiss on the mouth.
“Order for me, will you?” she asked with a wide smile and then hurried off to the ladies’ room.
Angela and Anderson became an exclusive couple and she broke things off with Mark, for good. She and Anderson enjoyed many more erotic lunch dates, dinner dates,
and steamy, passionate nights together. Maxine fully recovered from her illness and eventually had the baby she always wanted. She made Angela the godmother. Mark met a new young woman at his job and soon got over Angela. Anderson eventually promoted Angela to his executive manager and proposed to her a year later.
THE END
* * *
Thank you for reading A Billion Dollar Arrangement.
Secrets Series
“Max Lane is about to turn thirty and to settle down is in the forefront of his mind. His taste in women doesn’t make his choices in finding a wife and future mother of his children easy. Wealthy, gorgeous women with long legs and luscious bodies are great until you have to deal with their entitled attitudes which is something the young billionaire neither has nor finds attractive.
Alexis Mathews is a freelance accountant who comes into Max’s life just as he’s ready to make some changes to it. Initially, he takes her on as a project, but soon realizes he’d like to keep her for himself. Alexis’ long time insecurities make it hard for her to believe she’s the right girl for a man of Max’s wealth.”
Secrets of Desire Part 1
Max
The darkness is interrupted by a light as I sit in a dimly lit room waiting for the always late Lauren. She’s my latest attempt to find a woman that I can get along with for the rest of my life. It’s going on a month since we started dating so I’m about to test the matrimonial waters with her this evening. I want to see if she has the same ideas I have for the future. I’m turning thirty in a few days and decided it’s time to move out of the fast lane and slow things down a bit.
Abandoned when I was ten years old by my drug addicted mother, I grew up in a children’s home in the middle of nowhere, South Texas. Divorce is not an option for me. Once I marry and start a family which I’d like to do right away, nothing will tear my family apart. So my choice for a wife has to be someone I can stand, at the very least.
It was my cell phone which lit up, meaning I have a text message. It’s from the freelance accountant I contacted and he’s agreed to work on some accounting issues for me. My least favorite time of the year is coming up, tax season, and I need all the help I can get to hang onto as much of my fortune as I can.
A pair of long, sexy legs topped by a short, red skirt stride into the room. I scan them and move up over a lithe body until her face comes into focus.
I wonder what she really looks like.
“You appear good enough to eat, Lauren.”
She laughs, and the sound makes my face pinch as it is loud and slightly off key. “Don’t I know it, Max,” she says with a southern drawl. “Where are you taking me this evening?”
I hold my arm out and she takes it. “My chef, Hilda, is making us one of her specialties for dinner. I imagined it might be nice to stay in tonight.”
The sound of a heavy sigh meets my ears and I notice her red stained, collagen injected lips form a pout. “And what will we do after we eat this stuff your maid is making, Mr. Billionaire?”
“I thought we could eat by the fireplace in the small dining room. Afterwards we can cuddle on the couch and watch a movie. I’ll even make you popcorn if you’d like me to. And by the way, Hilda is not the maid. If she ever heard you call her that she might have to kick your ass, I’d have to intervene and most likely get mine kicked too.”
I pull the door open and lead her out to my Jaguar where she folds her long legs into the passenger side as she says, “That sounds dull and I don’t do dull, Max.”
After taking a gander at those long, tight, tanned legs I begin to salivate. My weakness is long legs, and it overrules my brain way too many times. I close the door and walk around to the driver’s side. “So what would you like to do?”
She looks into the mirror and applies more red lipstick. “I want to go to a nice club and be drunk by nine o’clock.”
My hands grip the wheel so I won’t grab her and choke some personality into her. “Oh, same as last night and the night before that.”
Her head swivels around, perfectly manicured eyebrows raise, creating wrinkles on her forehead.
“Oh my God, Max!” She goes on as her hands fly around in front of her. “So because you want to be a party pooper, I’m supposed to sit around your big ol’ mansion and piss the night away too?” Pausing to stare back in the mirror, she grabs some mascara and applies even more to her already thick as shit eyelashes. “Well, just drop me off then. I can find another ride home.”
As great an idea as that is, I’m too much of a damned gentleman to do that to any woman.
“No, Lauren, I was just kidding. I want to go to the club too.” I lie.
Suddenly she wears a sweet smile and bats those monster lashes at me.
“Oh! You’re silly.”
No, I’m an idiot!
As I drive along I decide to try out a little of what I had planned to talk to her about if she’d let me take her to my place.
“When do you think you’ll be ready to have kids, Lauren?”
Whoa! Shit! Everything on her face just raised into something that looks like the preceding of a shit storm. Can I take my words back, please?
With a thin finger wagging in my face, she screeches, “Oh no you don’t, Mr. Moneybags! Even you won’t be talking me into messing up this body. So that’s why you wanted to take me to your place. Hear this loud and clear, Max. I don’t want to have your children, nor anyone else’s. Kids add years to a woman’s body and face.”
“I see.”
Her finger trails down my cheek.
“Though you and I would make some beautiful children, sweetheart. I can’t do that to myself. Sorry to let you down, lover.”
I smile at her and give her a wink. I don’t feel let down at all. It is relief I’m experiencing the truth. She’s not the one for me. As I glance over at her, I find that her skirt has slid up and her upper thigh is showing. She’s good for a good time at least. Softly I run my hand over her exposed skin, only to have her slap it away.
“No! None of that.”
“Now who’s the party pooper?” I ask.
Alexis
My head is beginning to ache as I stare at this demon of a spreadsheet. Something isn’t right and I can’t figure it out. I grab my cell and text the old guy I’m doing this freelance work for.
And it’s time for more coffee.
As I walk across the room, I catch my reflection in the sliding glass doors. My bun has come loose and I can’t have that. I pull my hair down and mentally note that I need to go get it cut; it’s just too long. I pull it into a tight bun and notice a slight wrinkle in my khaki-colored Dickies. Smoothing it out, I take the time to make sure my starched, white button down is looking snappy too, and push my glasses further up on my nose.
My dad always told me to dress for the job I want. To rid the world of financial mistakes is my goal, a lot like a superhero. All I need is a khaki cape with a big, white letter, ‘A’ on it and I can get to work on saving the planet, one spreadsheet at a time.
My cell dings and the old dude has responded. He wants to have lunch and show me what he needs done.
* * *
I’m not a real social butterfly, hence the work at home gig. But he’s paying me an exorbitant amount of money. At least he gets to know that he has hired an accountant who looks the part. It should give him confidence in my abilities, I think, and perhaps he’ll decide to keep me on long-term.
* * *
The restaurant isn’t too far from my apartment so I hop on my bike and pedal on over. I have a car but I prefer not to pollute the air as often as I can. Okay, I’m not really all that into saving the planet. My car is a POS.
I chain my bike up in front of the restaurant, then smooth out my clothes again and notice a scuff on my penny loafer and bend down to wipe if off. My glasses fall off and a piece of broken cement puts a long scratch across one of the lenses. I can see enough to get by. If I’m close enough, I can see everything.
I
nto the restaurant I go, tapping on the pouch I placed around my waist to carry my small laptop in. It’s all the rage in Paris I’m told. A long mirror is in the entry way and I take a quick glance to be sure that I look good.
* * *
Perfect! Just like any accountant in any fine office building, complete with a pocket pencil organizer. This man is sure to be impressed.
A waiter comes towards me. “May I help you?” he asks.
“I’m here to meet Mr. Lane.”
The man looks me up and down as he says, “Do you know his first name, because the Mr. Lane I’m thinking of, well it’s most likely not him.”
“Yes, of course. It’s Max,” I say and the man’s eyebrows move to the very tippy top of his balding head.
“Oh! Please follow me.”
I follow him and peer around trying my best to focus on the surrounding fanciness. I pull my glasses out of my pocket and close one eye to look through the one good side.
* * *
Stud alert, front and center!
What a man! Broad shoulders, and a suit that probably cost him a cool thousand or more. Dark waves of luscious hair that falls to his shoulders. Eyes the color of emeralds, oh be still my heart.
I put the glasses back in my pocket protector and follow the waiter dude. Fantasy man is making my panties wet, I need to find the old guy and get back into reality.
The waiter stops and pulls out a chair for me. I smile and plop down as poised as possible.
I blink to try to get my stupid broken eyes to focus. An arm with black sleeves reaches across the table and I shake a hand. It’s a firm hand; it doesn’t feel all wrinkly like I expected it to. “Hello, Miss Mathews. I’m sorry, you surprised me, I thought you were going to be a man. Your first name is Alex.”
Billionaire Games Page 108