Romance: In Love With A Billionaire

by McAdams, Amy

  Knock, knock.

  At first I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, because I was thinking of that night.

  My brain probably replayed that moment from my memory, but I could hear the sound again.

  Knock, knock.

  What the hell?

  Was this déjà vu?

  Was my mind going crazy? But again I heard that voice that I detested and loved so much at the same time…

  “C’mon, Clara, are you going to open this door or what?”

  Was it him—again?

  Didn’t I tell him to stay away from me, or had he gotten mad already?

  Should I open the door, or leave him there until he got bored and left?

  My mind was a mess, and I had no idea what to do.

  I wished Madeleine were with me right now, because she always knew what to do in tense situations.

  Maybe I misheard the voice?

  “Clara?” he continued to call out.

  Finally, I decided to open the door.

  I grabbed the handle and after twisting it twice, I saw him standing in front of me.

  “You must be hungry,” he said. “I would be, after such a long day of work. I guess you must be starving, so I brought you something. Something you like very much.”

  I looked at him but don’t say a single word, because I didn’t know what to say.

  I didn’t prepare for such a thing, and all I could think of was what to do in the next moments to not seem like a dumb shrew, or maybe a slut.

  He’s probably here thinking he could have a nice piece of ass for free again…

  “Why did you come here?” I asked. “I told you specifically I didn’t want to see you again in my life, and here you are. What do you want from me? Can’t you see I’m working and don’t have time for useless discussions?”

  “Didn’t I tell you already? I brought you your favorite takeout,” he said, smiling, as if he was waiting for a tip for his delivery.

  “Did I ask you for something or told you I was hungry? Take your shit and go back from where you came from in the first place, okay? I hope I’ve been specific enough this time so that I won’t see you again.”

  “I brought you pork dumplings,” he suddenly said.

  He looked at me with his plain and innocent face, waiting for my reaction, which came soon enough.

  “How did you know that my favorite takeout was pork dumplings?” I was intrigued, because from what I could recall few people knew about my secret—if I can call it like that.

  “Don’t you remember?” he asked. “You told me once, when I asked you. You didn’t understand why, and I told you that it was for the future. Well, this is the future I was talking about.”

  I couldn’t believe it: this guy remembered something that wasn’t about himself.

  It’s something to be noted because who knows when it might happen again.

  “I see. It seems you can hear other things besides your self-appointed compliments and the shit you’re constantly throwing at others. Good for you; you’ve made another step toward becoming human. I congratulate you, but I can’t say I’m too impressed by your feeble efforts. You could’ve done better, you know.”

  “Can we at least eat the things I brought? These pork dumplings look delicious, and it would be a complete shame and waste not to eat them. Then we can leave on separate ways if that is what you want.” He said those words with a set of puppy eyes I had never seen on him before!

  “Okay, I agree, I’m hungry and we should eat the food. But if you think we’ll have sex like the last time you busted in my office in the middle of the night, you have to know that this is going to be a friendly meal and nothing else.”

  “I understand your point of view, and I’m telling you that I won’t attempt on you anything you don’t desire. Rest assured that the atmosphere will remain calm and professional tonight—nothing sexual, not even at a verbal level,” he said, but I knew his words never were what they seemed to be.

  I was determined to remain vigilant for the entire evening because I knew how things can take an unexpected turn when you least expect it.

  “So how did you come to love these things that much?” he asked, trying to make conversation.

  I decided to step in the game, anyway—I had nothing better to do while enjoying those delicious pork dumplings.

  I didn’t know why, but they seemed the best I’ve ever had.

  Really strange that after some time, taste is now relative…

  “Well you see,” I started, “when I was little and my father left us, my mother had to work and take care of me as well. Seeing how these things don’t take too much to prepare, my mother would always cook them for me. I would eat them at least three times a week, if not more, and with time I began to love them. I can’t tell if I loved them so much at the beginning, but now I simply can’t live without them.”

  “Interesting story you got there,” he replied. “It seems you’ve turned a necessity into a passion. That’s not common, but it’s nonetheless interesting. I hope these are at least half as good as those cooked by your mother…I know mothers cook food with so much love, we tend to think it’s the best in the world.”

  “What about you?” I asked. “What is your favorite food, if you have any? I told you mine, but you didn’t tell me yours,” I said as I grabbed another delicious pork dumpling and threw it in my mouth, chewing it with so much satisfaction.

  “Well,” he began hesitantly, “I can’t say I have one favorite food like in your case. Rather, it depends on the mood and on the season. For instance, what I like very much to eat is pumpkin pie. I know it’s not exactly a meal but a dessert, but I would kill for a bite if I get one of those serious cravings in the middle of the night. I also like to eat my mother’s famous beef stew. She makes it so delicious, you wouldn’t stop eating it for days. She just puts something in it—I don’t know what, but it’s freaking delicious. You should taste it.

  “You see, I’m not the monster you probably thought I was. The thing is, sometimes I get carried away by my feelings and my ego gets the best of me. I hurt people, I know, and I even hurt you…I curse my life every day because it was the last thing I ever wanted to do. Yet I did it, so I ask for your forgiveness. Even if you chose not to see me again after this night, I’ll know at least that we had no grudges between us when we separate,” he explained, making all sorts of gestures with his hands. But all I could watch was his face, which seemed sincere for the first time in his life.

  “Don’t worry, we all make mistakes,” I told him, trying to comfort his sadness. “I make mistakes too, but the important thing is to learn something from them and not repeat them. If you do, you’ll be hurting people again and again and they’ll eventually turn their backs on you. You’ll end up sad and lonely.”

  “I know what you mean,” he replied. “I’ve been trying for some time to right the wrongs I’ve done and stop from making new ones, but with no success. I hurt you too, from what you could see, even if I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  “The secret stands in perseverance: you have to keep trying until you succeed. Nothing that’s good will come easy; you have to fight for it!”

  I grabbed his hand, trying to send him a bit of my positive energy.

  It made him smile…and it made me smile too.

  “You know what I need? A second chance,” he said, looking in my eyes. “I need a second chance to prove to people and to you that I’m not the person you think I am. I want to prove that I’m better than that tag they put on my back—I want to show them the real Blake, not that fake image they all see.”

  His words seemed so genuine, he made me believe him.

  I was totally charmed.

  “Will you go with me on a date? Nothing fancy, nothing sexual, just a pleasant dinner with two grown-up people talking about various things…just having a good time. What do you say?” he asked timidly. “You should know: this is the last time I’ll ask you this question. So think
about it.”

  As I looked at his face, I joggled between saying yes or no. But an idea struck me.

  “I’ll rather regret doing something than live with the thought ‘what if.’ I’ll go with you on a date, but under my rules,” I replied.

  A huge smile engulfed his face.

  “Whatever you say, boss…whatever you say,” he said, smiling.

  Epilogue

  One year later…

  I shake nervously as I stand behind the mayor. The mayor hands move towards the ribbon and then…

  Cut.

  It is done!

  Officially, the stadium is now open

  “Hooray!” the crowd cheers.

  After a year and a half of hard work, my moment has come. I couldn’t be more proud of myself. I look out to the crowd and see my mother, and next to her, my father.

  I have had the occasional coffee with my father but it is a long road to forgiveness. Some days I feel good about it, and other days it makes me feel sad.

  I look out into the crowd for Blake, and I see him standing behind my mother.

  Things have gone very well between us. We started dating and the chemistry between us is undeniable. He makes me feel better than I ever have before.

  After the cutting of the ribbon to officially open the stadium, I find Blake in the crowd.

  “Congratulations beautiful. You are amazing,” he says as we embrace in a hug.

  “Thank you,” I smile.

  He holds my hand tightly as the mayor walks towards me.

  “Congratulations Clara. You have done an amazing job with the stadium,” he states.

  “Thank you, sir,” I nod.

  “A lot better job than any male could have done,” Blake smiles besides me.

  He has now seen me at my best.

  I have convinced him that female project managers are as competent, if not more, than their male counterparts.

  He has even hired one for himself.

  The End

  Authors Note:

  Thank you for reading this story. If you enjoyed it, please read my fan favorite, ‘One Fine Holiday.’

  I wrote ‘In Love with a Billionaire’ to highlight the value and power of finding love in your life.

  You may find success in other ways, but in the end it is love that will make you feel complete.

  I have been blessed to find my love in my life.

  I hope that you have found yours.

  Love

  Amy xx

  Also by Amy McAdams:

  One Fine Holiday

  Returning Home

  If you liked this story, please leave a review!