Billionaire's Second Chance

by Claire Adams

  She shrugged. “If we are going to be dating, in public, I cannot be okay with the idea of you going home at the end of a date to entertain some other woman while thinking of me the whole time.”

  “It’s cute you assume I’d be thinking of you.”

  “You have obviously never been on a date with me.”

  “It’s not going to happen, Aria. Anything else?”

  “I know that seems somewhat unfair but-” She was screwing up the corner of her mouth, looking like she really did feel bad about what she was asking. “But I have been cheated on before and it was one of the worst feelings in the world. I know it wouldn’t be cheating in this case, since we aren’t going to be in a relationship, per se. But if I know you have been sleeping around, it will be difficult for me to spend time with you without some kind of resentment. I do appreciate you offering to help me out and I don’t want to feel resentful towards you. You obviously don’t deserve that. So if this is too much to ask, we don’t have to make the deal at all and I will still be grateful for your offer.”

  I hated the fact that, even with 60,000 dollars in my hands, the ball was in her court and I was the one playing by her rules, yet it made her all the more fascinating, the challenge more exciting. Backing out now would be accepting defeat, and Zayden Sinclair did not do defeat. I would make Aria Roberts beg to join me in my bed, if that was the last thing I ever did. Agreeing to her terms would definitely not mean six months of celibacy, since I was going to have her in no time.

  “I will add your terms to the paperwork and have you sign it tomorrow,” I finally said.

  She grinned.

  The game was on.

  Chapter Five

  ARIA

  “You did what?” Stacey was staring at me with a mixture of complete horror and amusement.

  “I signed a contract to date Zayden Sinclair for six months.”

  “But Aria, is this what you want? To lose your virginity over some contract with some-”

  I hadn’t even told my best friend that I had already lost my virginity. I was embarrassed that it was some guy from a bar. No one was ever going to know if I had anything to do with it.

  “I’m not losing anything, that’s what I’ve been trying to explain to you. He just wants me to go on dates with him.”

  She eyed me suspiciously. “Are you sure? Did you read the contract? There wasn’t some footnote involving a dungeon of some sort?”

  “I said the same thing,” I laughed. She joined me, to my relief. If I was going to do this, Stacey’s support was essential. If she didn’t support this, I would hear about it every day. “But no, I read it cover to cover. No loopholes, no dungeons, no sex. Just spending time with him. And I’ve been thinking about that, it can actually be beneficial to me!”

  “Well yeah, that’s a lot of money and you can help your mom out,” she said, jumping on to the edge of my bed and grabbing my stuffed turtle. I threw her a pillow from my desk.

  “Yes, that, but also, he has an insane knowledge of the banking industry,” I said, mindlessly scrolling through my computer screen. “He can teach me things when we hang out.”

  “He is a CEO, a title he inherited. I doubt he knows much about becoming a loan officer.”

  “He owns a chain of banks.” I looked at her with raised eyebrows.

  “I guess he’d better know a lot about loan officers, huh?” She was hugging my pillow.

  I shrugged. “Won’t hurt to ask. Plus, I am taking advanced Macroeconomics classes; he has a Masters in Economics along with an MBA, so at least he can help me ace my classes.”

  “Somehow, Aria, I don’t think he means he wants to help you with homework when he says he wants to date you. He very likely has other things in mind.”

  “He does,” I frowned. “But since he is not going to get what he has in mind, we will have to find something to talk about during these ‘dates’ or whatever, and I might as well steer the conversation in a direction that helps me do better in school. It’s not a colossal waste of a time that way.”

  “Or, you could just jump his bones.” She was now flipping through the copy of ZEN magazine with his interview in it.

  “You jumped ship pretty quickly. Weren’t you just lecturing me about the sanctity of my virginity?”

  “Nope, I was just asking you if that’s what you wanted to do. If it is, then by all means, make hot… passionate… love to this divine creation. I wonder how big his-”

  “Nick!” I screamed loudly, cutting her off. “You need to come in here and get your girlfriend, she’s getting out of control.”

  “Shhhhhh,” she hissed. “He won’t find this funny. We haven’t done it in two weeks.”

  “What? Why?”

  “We are saving it for our anniversary. Have to keep things spiced up.”

  “By actively not, you know, spicing them?” I shook my head. “You sex-having people and your weird ways.”

  “You’ll get there soon enough. Very soon, according to your boss.”

  “Please tell me you believe I can resist him.” I could. I really, truly could. Why was I trying so hard to convince myself when it was obviously the truth? My first time having sex was a mistake and no way was my second time going to be too.

  “You are stubborn enough to,” she said, flipping through the magazine. “But if I were you, I would have some fun with this whole thing. I mean how often do sexy gazillionaires pay you to date them? I’d do him for free, if he asked.”

  “Don’t make me shout for Nick again.”

  She threw the pillow back at me and I caught it right before it hit my head.

  “Fine. You sit here and be boring on your computer, I’ll go find my boyfriend.” She got up and left mumbling, “who is probably sitting on his computer and being equally boring. What does one have to do for some fun roommates around here?”

  ---

  As the workday came to an end and people started evaporating away, I felt a strange knot in my chest. Zayden had sent me an email earlier:

  Aria,

  Hang around after 5. Our deal begins today.

  Best,

  Zayden

  Zayden Sinclair

  Chairman and CEO

  South National Bank

  I wondered what he had in mind for today. He hadn’t mentioned anything about going out, and seemed perfectly comfortable lying on his office couch typing intently on his MacBook. Yep, we definitely weren’t going anywhere. Just as well, I could ask him questions for my Econ paper on progressive taxation. There was nothing else I could think of for us to do within the premises of this bank except that, because that was just not happening.

  When everybody else cleared out, I wasn’t sure whether to walk over to him or wait for him to summon me; he seemed occupied by whatever was on his computer. Maybe he wouldn’t even notice if I quietly snuck out. I did have tons of homework to get to. I tentatively started packing up but the phone rang.

  “Who said you could leave?” He was staring at me. “You signed a contract.”

  “You seemed busy and I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be left alone.”

  “If I wanted you to leave me alone, you would know, Aria.” With just that much, he hung up the phone and went back to typing vigorously on his laptop. What the hell was I supposed to do just sitting here? I pulled out my phone and started texting Stacey.

  “It’s weird as fuck. he’s just sitting there doing work but I’m not allowed to leave.”

  Stacey wrote back immediately.

  “Ask him if he needs anything. Offer to make him some coffee.”

  “And set feminism back a few decades?”

  “It’s just a nice gesture, nothing to do with you being a woman. He’s helping you out, be nice.”

  “Fine. Whatever.”

  I called him back. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Not if it is to be delivered with your clothes on.” A grin formed on his face. I rolled my eyes. “Come on, I’m just teasing. Easy on the ey
e roll.”

  “You can see that?” I rolled them again involuntarily.

  “And that. I’m good with the coffee, but thank you. Dinner should be arriving soon. I’ll get off my computer when it does, I promise.”

  “What? Dinner?”

  “Yep, it’s a particular kind of meal, usually served in the evenings, usually the last meal of the day.”

  “You think you are so funny, don’t you? I didn’t know we would be having dinner.”

  “Well, you do now. Tonight and every other night until I say otherwise, you’ll be having dinner with me at the office.”

  “Will I ever get to choose what I want to eat or will you always be doing it on my behalf?” I regretted saying that immediately. I was kind of being a bitch, but the best part about takeout is deciding what to eat.

  He looked a little wounded by that. “Well, I will just email you Sean’s number and you can tell him what you would like from tomorrow onwards.”

  “What are you even talking about?”

  “Sean’s my chef. He does international gourmet meals.”

  “Oh,” I said feeling stupid. “Of course.”

  Why would we be getting takeout when he had an international gourmet chef at his fingertips? For some reason, the notion made me feel extremely uncomfortable, and a little irrationally angry. I hung up, looked away from Zayden and took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure why I was so on edge. Perhaps because I had been hanging out around the office after a long day of work to entertain him, while he pretty much ignored me for most of the night thus far. What was he even trying to accomplish?

  Okay, maybe I was a little upset because I had wanted to talk to him, get to know him, and get help with my Econ paper. Not sit here staring at my phone panic-texting Stacey. The truth was I wanted us to become friends. In order to achieve my dreams of becoming a successful loan officer, having a powerful network of contacts was essential, and it was particularly helpful if my contacts were of the power and stature of one of the most successful young banking entrepreneurs in the country. Part of my reasoning behind wishing to discuss homework with him was that he could see my potential outside of my job as a teller and hopefully serve as a valuable reference someday. In fact, the more I thought about the contract that I had signed, the more it seemed to be beneficial to me rather than him.

  But this, whatever was going on right now, was beneficial to nobody.

  It was another half hour before a couple of men in black-and-white uniforms materialized as though out of thin air, and began setting up silver dishes on the mahogany table in Zayden’s office. Wouldn’t that stain? Zayden Sinclair probably didn’t give a crap about stains, though. He probably owned an entire IKEA all to himself, all furniture readily replaceable whenever he liked. Much like the women he got involved with. Disposable, just like me. I shook my head. Instead of letting my thoughts stray to needlessly upsetting places, what I needed to do was enjoy a nice dinner with an influential man and try to build on my nonexistent network.

  One of the men in the uniforms was now walking towards me.

  “Dinner is ready, Ma’am,’ he said with a smile on his face.

  Ma’am. I wanted to burst out laughing. “Call me Aria, and thank you.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Ma’am,” he looked at me nervously.

  Oh God. I did not have the energy or will to argue, as it hit me just how hungry I was. Whatever rich people ate for dinner, it had to be tasty, right? I took off my jacket and walked towards Zayden’s office. I was wearing a blue dress with a slightly low-cut neck, and black tights. Professional and hopefully alluring in a not misleading or sexual kind of a way. Most of the men in uniforms were now waiting just outside the bank’s premises, except for the guy who had come to summon me; he was holding a bottle of champagne.

  Zayden was already seated when I got there, with a red napkin wrapped around his neck and his sleeves rolled up.

  “Do you like champagne?” he asked.

  “Who doesn’t like champagne,” I giggled in a don’t-be-silly kind of a way and sat down. “I love champagne, it’s super tasty and-”

  I made the mistake of catching his eye. It was twinkling.

  “Okay, I’ve never actually had champagne before,” I admitted. “I don’t really drink other than a few beers here and there with pizza and TV. I am not a particularly exciting person.”

  He was beaming at me as though I had just said I saved sick puppies for a living.

  “I haven’t had the luxury of enjoying greasy pizza and cheap beer with some good old television in quite some time.”

  “Luxury? Are you mocking me?” Our waiter – server? butler? – was pouring out two glasses of champagne, as I tied a red napkin around my neck to match Zayden’s.

  “No, not at all! Luxury is relative,” he said looking quite disdainful. “Sometimes I wish I could enjoy the simple pleasures of life, but all this was dropped on me,” he said, extending his arms out to his sides.

  “You’re talking like you’re dead. We can totally just hang out with some Bud Light, pepperoni pizza and Netflix at my apartment one night if you like.” I laughed out loud at the thought of him coming to my apartment. Yeah, that was totally going to happen. It was polite to ask, still.

  “What is that? Some kind of recording device?”

  I stared at him in utter confusion for almost a whole minute before it hit me and I burst into full-blown laughter. Zayden Sinclair, CEO of the entire South National Bank empire, was asking me if Netflix was some kind of a recording device. What planet did he live on?

  “It’s,” I started out to explain but felt another fit of giggles coming on, which I quickly turned into a cough because he began looking somewhat offended.

  “It’s this website that stores hundreds of thousands of movies and TV shows, and you pay like 10 bucks a month to be able to stream all their content online.”

  He twisted his mouth in a comical fashion. “I’m just joking, Aria,” he laughed. “I’d rather just purchase all of the movies and shows though.”

  Well, he gave me a good laugh anyway.

  “It would probably cost over a million dollars to try and purchase every title that’s on Netflix, though,” I said, trying not to roll my eyes. “It’s just a cheap way to find entertainment for regular people like me.”

  “I see,” he frowned, clearly not liking the concept and purpose of Netflix.

  He was rich, so buying a Netflix subscription wasn’t something he would understand.

  I raised my champagne glass to change the subject. “What are we drinking to?”

  “To digital innovation,” he said, deadpan.

  “Ha, ha,” I said, not laughing.

  “Seriously though, to these next six months,” he said, clinking his glass to mine.

  I sipped the bubbly drink and it tasted like a mixture of white wine and orange soda, something that sounds gross on principle but my God, was it delicious. I closed my eyes, letting the sweet, fizzy taste sink into my taste buds. This was why everyone made such a big deal about champagne.

  “You like it, then?” Zayden asked with a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

  “It’s a step above Bud Light for sure,” I smiled at him, and took another huge gulp.

  “That’s a shame,” he said looking at the butler. “You went through so much trouble locating the perfect bottle for no reason, Mark. Her standards are at Bud Light—you could have picked up anything bubbly from CVS next door and it would have served nicely.”

  “Noted for next time,” Mark joked back.

  There was something inherently pleasant about the way Zayden was so relaxed and friendly with his staff. Aren’t men like him supposed to be complete dickheads?

  “To both of your disappointment, I now am spoiled to be partial to nothing but the best,” I said sipping some more of the goodness.

  “Time for appetizers,” Mark said, removing the lid from one of the silver containers to reveal succulent looking sushi rolls.
“Spicy tuna rolls. Sean had the fish transported from Japan only a few hours ago. It was practically fished this morning, so I hope it’s fresh enough.”

  I felt a rush of excitement flood through my veins. Spicy tuna rolls were among my absolute favorite foods. What were the chances?

  “Nah, I am sure it can’t beat the 5 dollar rolls from China Garden across the street that I’m used to,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, even though I was dying to taste one.

  When I did, I could just about cry with happiness. Perfectly soft, slightly crunchy and so, so spicy. I let out an involuntary moan.

  “Tasty?” Zayden asked, looking delighted by my reaction. “I’ll stick to plain old California rolls. I’m the victim of mundane taste buds.”

  “Suit yourself,” I said between mouthfuls. It made little sense, though. Why would he ask his chef to make spicy tuna rolls if he couldn’t handle some spice? I couldn’t be too bothered about it, however, as I was too busy putting one sushi roll after another into my mouth. I had already gobbled up an entire portion in less than five minutes. I probably looked like an uncivilized moron. Just one more…

  I had sufficiently devoured two whole portions when I heard Zayden say, “I will take it from here for the entrees, Mark. Thanks for your help tonight.”

  He handed him what looked like five 100 dollar bills and added, “Share it with the guys and thank them for me.”

  Mark took the cash, looking completely unphased, as though this was a daily occurrence. It probably was.

  When Mark left with the remaining appetizers, there was an awkward silence for a few minutes, and I almost wished I had another sushi roll there just to keep myself occupied. Zayden was looking at me straight in the eyes, not a single expression on his face. Should I say something?

  “Is that a push-up bra?”

  What? The question was so random and bizarre, I couldn’t help but snicker.

  “I don’t have to answer that question,” I said pouting.

  “Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry, as his eyes were now fixated on my breasts. “I am just a little distracted.”