Billionaire's Escort (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story)

by Claire Adams

  After walking in on the two of them, I could do nothing but run out of the room crying; I didn't even have it in me to confront them. I should have, I should have clawed her eyes out, and left his body unidentifiable. I had heard my best friend call out my name as I left the apartment, as if the girl could possibly have anything to say to me at that point to ease the pain I was in. Though I wouldn't lie, the curiosity did kill me now, after the fact. I wondered what she intended to say. Sorry? You snooze, you lose? I love him? He doesn't want to be with you?

  I did regret, however, the lack of hysterics I showed toward them. Thinking back on it, I should have allowed them to try to explain the disgusting show they had put on for me. To see what kind of excuses they would give me, what kind of fine, veiled apologies. In the end, however, it wouldn't have mattered. As far as I knew, they were still together; isn't love grand? I had hoped it would be a fling. That he would come back begging for another chance, so that I would have the opportunity to slap his face.

  So insert booze, and I suddenly forgot how pathetic I must have been not to know that the two people I had trusted the most had been lying and running around on me behind my back. Maybe another shot was a good idea, the more I thought about it.

  Julie and I sat at the bar in one of the more popular places in the area, and downed large amounts of alcohol. The bar was certainly a happenin' place if you were into picking up. I wasn't one to notice, however. I usually stared sullenly into my glass for most of the night. Poor Julie, she must think I'm an alcoholic.

  When the shots arrived, Julie handed me one and raised it to toast. “What should we toast to?”

  I snorted, “I know! Let's toast to becoming cat people, and watching old reruns of I Love Lucy together.”

  “Screw that. Are you crazy? Natalie, you are gorgeous. Your ex was an idiot, and what he did was unconscionable, but you will find someone else―someone much better. Just wait and see.”

  “I don't want anyone else. I loved him, and look how well that turned out. How could I possibly trust anyone ever again? I know what you're thinking, I'm being negative. But sometimes it's a good thing, really.”

  “I don't think you will see any motivational posters saying that.”

  I laughed despite myself. “I guess not.”

  We downed the shots, and I cringed for the tenth time that night. I hated thinking about my past. It had just been so awful. When did it ever get easier, when did the pain lessen? When would I stop seeing that image of the two of them together? It was bad enough that I lost the man I loved, but losing my best friend at the same time had crushed me. I had never felt so alone in all my life. Three years I had been with him, and it all was thrown away, for nothing. What a waste, I thought. Three years of loving and caring for him, and I still had no idea why he did it. Why had I not been enough for him? I loved him, and had thought we had a really good sex life. What made him want her more than me? These were the questions that plagued me relentlessly until I lost the ability to sleep, lying awake just waiting for morning to come.

  At first, I had tried to be productive about the breakup, being motivational, positive thinking at all times, mostly working on my homework and drawing whenever the mood struck me. I thought I could get lost in my art and forget my broken heart. Unfortunately, things never quite worked out that way. Instead, here I was, dangling off a bar stool with a girl who did not know how to stop ordering tequila.

  “Should we do another shot?”

  “Are you high? Absolutely not. I can barely see, and somehow I am still thinking about my ex-boyfriend. This isn't working. If alcohol can't make me forget, then what the hell are we doing out tonight? I need to forget him!” I noticed that Julie was looking around. “You're not even paying attention to my whining,” I laughed. “You should be listening to my whining; my heart is broken, for crying out loud.”

  Julie smiled at me, finally focusing her attention back on me. “No, I wasn't ignoring you, Natalie. There is this ridiculously hot guy over there, checking you out.”

  “Oh, give me a break.” What could he possibly be checking out? What friend of mine he could sleep with?

  “Oh my God, it's Jet. He's totally checking you out.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “Are you kidding me, Natalie? You don't know who Jet is?”

  “Nope. Should I?”

  “He's only one of the most popular guys on campus. All the girls have been drooling over him for years since he started dominating in MMA.”

  “He’s a fighter? Jesus, Julie. You know athletes aren’t my type and in case you don't remember, up until a few months ago I had a boyfriend. That's who I have been drooling over. My boyfriend was so hot.”

  I was pathetic.

  “You still have eyes, don't you? How could you not have noticed him by now? You're crazy, girl.”

  “Sorry, I'm just not someone who keeps up on that sort of thing. I could care less who the most popular guy on campus is.”

  “He's a jock, and sexy as hell.”

  “Well there you go, I'm an artist. I don't exactly keep up on the latest sports.”

  “I don't care. Let's get another drink.”

  Chapter Two

  Jet

  I had been watching this beauty for the better part of the night. I rarely did such a thing, but it was like watching a well-acted theatre performance, or better yet, a movie with a twist. You watched because you were just dying to know how it ended. I couldn't help myself. I had to watch her; she was absolutely stunning. Long red hair that cascaded in waves down her back, and the most gorgeous green eyes I had ever seen. She had alabaster skin that almost shone in the light, reminding me of the girls from those vampire movies, with skin that almost glowed. It made me want to touch her, trail my fingers down her skin just to see what it felt like. She was the perfect package, and I couldn't believe that she wasn't surrounded by men, vying for her attention. Were they crazy? Couldn't they see who was sitting there right before their eyes? It was madness. I had never seen anything quite like her before. She had a fit body, with the longest legs I had ever seen. She was wearing one of those club dresses girls always wear when they hit the town, and it hugged her body in a way that made me ache to pull down the zipper on her dress. They didn't make girls like that on campus. For the most part, they were all the same dimwits I’ve dated before. This girl, however, was very different, and I was liking different these days. I could tell by the way she carried herself that she had brains before beauty. She could hold a conversation, which is something a lot of the girls I know are unable to do.

  She had been coming to the bar for a couple of months at that point, and I had always watched her carefully. The first time I saw her in this bar, I did a double take. Who could possibly forget that hair and those big green eyes? I don't think I ever will. She was exquisite in the way that made you want to know her mind, not just her body. She wasn't the kind of someone who came there to pick up guys, because I had never seen her leave with anyone―not in all the months she had been coming. Like I said, I was surprised that no one ever tried to pick her up, because she was beautiful. It could, however, have something to do with the fuck you she seemed to have etched into her forehead. She wasn't exactly giving off the friendliest vibe to guys. I didn't mind, however. I liked a challenge. I wasn't quite sure what I would have done if a guy had hit on her. I wanted her for myself, and I didn't like to share. Not a girl like that.

  I wondered often as I sat watching her what it would be like when she smiled. She probably had a beautiful smile.

  Surprisingly, I had never gone over to talk to her during any of her visits to the bar. I wasn't shy, no, that wasn't it. Girls were all over me frequently. I never had issues with meeting girls or striking up a conversation with one of them. I could have any girl I wanted, so that had nothing to do with why I hadn't approached her. There was just something about her that I liked watching. I was in no hurry, but again, that could change if someone else entered the picture. I was
not about to let someone else steal my thunder.

  She was a puzzle―one that I hoped to unravel. She never did anything but sit at the bar with her friend, and drink. They never got up to dance or even scope out the room. That's how I knew she wasn't interested in picking up, because they never did laps around the room to check anyone out.

  I normally would pick up a girl on the dance floor, and take her home to have sex with her. It was just so easy. When girls danced, they always danced suggestively, which made it easy for a guy to grind up against her. It wasn't long before I’d be making out with a girl and then running to catch a cab. It was like fishing with dynamite, picking up girls was so easy it almost bored me. That's why I found this girl so intriguing―mesmerizing even.

  Guys never approached her because she gave off that wonderful “fuck you” vibe. That’s easily the deadliest vibe a girl can give off at a bar; she's pretty much guaranteeing a guy that she is going to shut him down before he can even say hi. Guys don't like rejection, not even the smallest bit.

  I decided then that it was time to go talk to her, to see if she was just as interesting up close as she was from far away. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, one that I hoped I wouldn't regret. I strolled over casually, and sat on the bar stool on the other side of her. I waved to the bartender to bring me a drink. I looked over to find her friend was gaping at me, and I wasn't sure if I should let her know she could catch flies with a trap open that wide. The scene must have looked comical to someone else. Aside from the gaper, the redhead didn't even know I existed, even though I was inches away from her.

  “Can I buy you girls a drink?”

  “Yes!” squealed the friend. She clapped excitedly, and I had to chuckle.

  “Julie! What the hell are you doing?” My beauty didn't seem too pleased by my invitation. She was already drinking, so why not have more? What harm was there in me buying them drinks?

  “What? What's wrong with him buying us a drink?”

  “Oh, forget it, I don't care.” The ginger girl seemed to have given up hope of getting rid of me quickly.

  I felt like this was my opportunity to get on that girl's best side. The bartender arrived with my drink, and I ordered the two girls another round of what they were drinking.

  “Thank you, that was really sweet of you,” the friend gushed. She thought I was possibly interested in her, but she was only a means to an end. I wanted the redhead.

  “It's my pleasure.”

  I looked at the girl beside me and said, “Hi there, beautiful, do you have a name?”

  She didn't even look over at me. She just stared down into her watered-down rye and Coke. “Yeah, sure I do; it's get lost.”

  That made me chuckle. “That's kind of mean of you. I only came here to say hi to you.”

  “I didn't ask you to, so why don't you go back to where you came from?” She smiled into her drink as if she enjoyed her joke.

  I glanced over at the friend, who just shrugged her shoulders at me. “Is your friend always so mean to people?” I queried.

  She looked embarrassed, as if she wasn't quite sure what to say to me. “No, she doesn't know who you are, really. She's just having a bad night. For the past like, eight months though ... the same bad day.”

  I couldn't help but laugh. That girl was sort of funny.

  “What's your name?” I asked.

  “Julie, and my friend’s name is Natalie.”

  “Natalie, what a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

  Natalie snorted. “Is that the best you can do ... Jet, is it?”

  “You do know my name, wonderful.”

  “Hardly. Julie was nice enough to impart your glowing reputation to me.”

  “You can't possibly dislike me; you don't even know me. And I just bought you beautiful ladies some drinks.”

  Natalie finally looked up from her glass, and met my gaze. “I know about guys like you. You're all the same and I couldn't be less interested. Did you really think you could come over here and I would just go home with you? You can't be that deluded.”

  I laughed out loud. She was a total trip. I was quite certain that no female in my entire life had talked to me that way. I kind of liked a girl with a set of balls. Girls these days kissed ass too much to land a boyfriend, but not this one. She was on fire tonight.

  Julie laughed, too, though more nervously.

  “Give me a chance here, firecracker. Come dance with me. You will have fun, I promise.”

  “No shot.”

  “Well, would you be interested in coffee sometime? In a nice, safe, public place so I can't trick you into sex? You can’t believe everything you hear about my reputation.”

  “Just beat it, Jet, I have a drink to finish.”

  The drinks I ordered arrived, and Julie grabbed hers, while Natalie just left hers sitting there. I wasn't quite sure what to think of the whole situation.

  “Are you really not going to give me a chance here?”

  She looked up at me again, and met my eyes. She lingered there momentarily, just long enough to give me hope. And then she whispered, so softly I almost missed the words, “Fuck off.” She then turned back to finish her drink.

  I took a look around, wondering if I should hit the dance floor alone and pick up another chick to take home to warm my bed. I didn't like sleeping alone. This little interlude was going terribly, so it was definitely time for me to move on to the next one. But before I was able to make a decision on whom to hit on next, Natalie and Julie got up from their seats, drinks unfinished, and left without even glancing at me again. No see ya later, no thanks for the drinks; they just up and left me.

  I was dumbfounded by Natalie's behavior. Bars were the best possible place to pick up girls, and yet I was turned down by a girl who hadn't even known I existed until that night. It had never happened to me before. I didn't like the feeling; I'm not going to lie.

  Chapter Three

  Natalie

  Class ended with me thinking about my art assignment for the new semester. I lingered in the classroom as my fellow classmates filtered out of the room, onto their next class or maybe off on a break. I had nowhere to be at that particular moment, except to study. Sometimes I liked watching people, wondering what their lives were like outside of school. How much different were their lives from mine? Were they happy? If not, what was going on in their lives to cause unhappiness? The amazing thing about watching people is that you could never tell what kind of life they lead by their expression, or the way they held themselves. Hell, with all this reflection, I probably should have been a writer; then maybe I would know human nature a little better. I smiled at a few of them as they walked past me, quizzical looks on their faces, probably wondering why I wasn't escaping with them. To be honest, I was exhausted. Exhausted from my life, and now this project. I took my classwork seriously, because honestly, it was all I had. Maybe all I would ever have, and that certainly was a scary notion. It had occurred to me that I should stop the melancholy thought process before it got the best of me.

  I looked down at my notebooks, unsure whether I should head out just yet. I flipped through the notes I had made in art class, hoping that an idea would pop out at me. For the first time in a while, I didn't know what to do. No brilliant ideas had come to me thus far, and yet I had to get started working on it before I got behind. I was puzzled by the assignment, and wasn't sure how I should handle it. I loved the class, and everything to do with my new semester, but the classes certainly forced me to dig deeper as an artist. The professor had assigned a task for us to complete, and I wanted to do a good job on it. My art career was very important to me, and I was determined to excel. I didn't want just any job when I graduated―I wanted the best job out there. I hoped to one day work in Europe, in one of their finest galleries, that is, until I became a famous artist myself. Until then, however, I planned on working amongst the greatest art pieces in the world. The assignment was to draw a changing object once a month, and at the end of
the semester I would hand it in. I hadn't a clue what object I would use. I would have to find something that would constantly change. Something interesting, fascinating even, something to knock the socks off of my professor.

  I grabbed my books and art supplies and slipped them into my bag. I stood up, pushing the chair in, and I headed out the door. I was lost in the puzzle of my art project when I walked down the hallway toward the end of the building, and pushed through the doors. Sunlight shone in my eyes, and I ran smack into Jet, dropping my bag and spilling my books all over the ground. What. The. Fuck.

  “Great, you again.”

  He laughed, “Yep it's me, and sorry about that. It wasn't my intention to body check you.”

  “What exactly was your intention?”

  He bent down to help me pick up the books. He handed me the books one by one and I slipped them back into my bag as neatly as I could.

  “Art, right? I heard you were into this stuff.”

  “This ‘stuff'?’ Wow, you're a real charmer today aren't you?” This guy was really one of a kind, in the most unfortunate sense of the word.

  “Well, I'm showing interest in you, aren't I? Come on, you know I didn't mean it like that.”

  “Yeah, lucky me. Are you stalking me right now? ‘Cause I'm pretty sure the balls and sticks aren't found on this side of campus.” I almost smiled when I said it, but I caught myself. No need to encourage him with friendliness.

  My books were safely back in my bag, which was now slung over my shoulder, so that was my cue to start to walk away from him. He followed beside me quickly, in an annoyingly persistent way.

  What was with this guy? He couldn't have actually been interested in me. I was nothing like him. But wow, he had a real hard-on for me.