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How Not To Be Seduced By Billionaires (Books 1-3)

Page 13

by Marian Tee


  Have sex with me?

  I choked on my champagne.

  Lesson #7

  Sometimes, you have to make a choice with your billionaire:

  To fuck or be fucked up.

  It was a Monday again, and I had two snowflakes and a mysterious red-colored Post-It stuck to my LCD screen. By now, I had totally given up beating Charli to work. I had even arrived an hour earlier than my call time one day but lo and behold, Charli was already sipping her cappuccino in her office by the time I rushed in.

  The first sticky note was a congratulatory message. Or at least I assumed it was since 70% of it was written in French. One day, I really had to tell Charli that my multilingual skills didn’t exactly extend to her native tongue.

  The second snowflake had me gulping.

  Do you think smutty manga set in high school will be accepted by American TV audience?

  Explain and present. Due Friday.

  Just my luck to get this question…this would have been so much more suitable for Arian, who had no qualms talking about anything sexual in public. In last Friday’s event, I totally heard her ask Constantijin very innocently if he thought her breasts were too huge.

  Yeah. I know. I totally wanted to puke after that.

  Staring at Charli’s troubling sticky note, I mulled over my choices. God, smut in high school was, like, so difficult to tackle. If you thought bedroom and smutty scenes in Gossip Girls or Vampire Diaries were hot, wait until you read shoujo manga by, say, Kanan Minami. That girl totally redefined high school sex.

  Peeking at George, I saw him frowning similarly on his own snowflakes. “Huge assignment for Friday?”

  He nodded, saying feelingly, “Super-y.”

  I laughed, the nervous knots in my stomach easing a bit at George’s newest made-up word. I loved it when he did that. Glancing back at my LCD, I realized that I still had one Post-It left. Unfolding it, I recognized the bold scrawl immediately.

  Constantijin.

  Just the thought of him writing this note had me catching my breath. It felt like he was writing me a love letter, which was totally romantic and totally unlike him. I loved it.

  MISS YOU.

  I snatched my phone from my bag, unable to keep myself from replying.

  Got your sticky note, I texted him.

  He texted me back immediately. That’s not the answer I was hoping for.

  I didn’t bother answering, but I was smiling the whole time I worked.

  It was already half-past twelve by the time George nagged me to have lunch with him. Apparently, the official boyfriend of the guy from 25/F was having lunch here, which meant no playing hooky for George.

  The cafeteria was noisier than usual, even for the usual lunch crowd. It seemed like everyone was still talking about last Friday’s party, and everyone I passed by either congratulated me or stared at me. Well, most of the women stared at me. As for the men---

  I found myself wriggling closer and closer to George until I was practically hiding behind him. It wasn’t an easy feat, with my four-inch heels causing me to tower over him. Men actually nudged each other when I walked past them, and some of them even winked at me.

  “You’re an overnight sensation, honey,” George exclaimed.

  Boy, did I hope that was true. If it was, then that meant all this weird furor would be gone by tomorrow – right?

  As George and I queued up at the American station, a voice behind me asked, “Late lunch?”

  Oh my God, oh my God, oh my---

  It was him. Of course it was him. I had recognized Constantijin’s voice but a part of me couldn’t believe I’d see him again this early.

  Stay calm, stay calm, I told myself as I summoned up a smile to my lips, trying to ignore the way my heart was near to popping out of my chest in excitement. Constantijin looked utterly sophisticated and gorgeous in his black and white suit, minus his usual tie. His eyes possessively roamed over me, and I tried not to squirm when his gaze slowly traveled down my bare legs.

  Remembering his question belatedly, I grabbed my just filled-up tray as I said, “Charli gave us a lot of work for this week.”

  He nodded sympathetically. “Friday’s presentation, right?”

  My eyes widened. “You’ll be there?”

  “Yanna,” he said very gently, “do you think I’ll ever miss a chance to see you shining?”

  Oh, dear. Someone please help me keep my heart still or I’d be melting any second.

  “Next,” the waitress in front of me said impatiently. Then her eyes lit up when she saw Constantijin next to me. “Sir?” She bent close to take Constantijin’s tray, and I reluctantly moved away.

  “Enjoy your lunch, Yanna,” he murmured.

  “You, too,” I said shyly.

  He smiled.

  I floated.

  George had already found us a table, and he was grinning at me widely when I joined him.

  "Your face is red," George told me as I placed my tray on the table.

  "Is it?" I controlled the urge to fan myself. "It’s just so hot, I guess."

  George smirked.

  “I mean it!”

  “Yeah, yeah. I heard that before.”

  He made me feel defensive and embarrassed at the same time. About to dish out another retort, I found myself suddenly surrounded by a small group of guys, and I recognized them as some of the most recently hired batch of sales agents.

  “Err…yes?” I asked hesitantly.

  That seemed to be their cue and they all launched into their own conversations at once, making me giggle. A few minutes later, in the middle of an embarrassingly flattering conversation with the guys about how I so did not look pretty, my phone beeped.

  Still fucking jealous.

  I didn’t reply, but those three words had me giddy and confused all day. One minute I was all excited, thinking about those words over and over. The next minute I was annoyed, telling myself that I shouldn’t be this happy. If I sent Constantijin the same kind of text, he wouldn’t be as happy as I was. He’d probably be, like, all arrogant and smirking, thinking it was time I admitted how irresistible he was.

  The digital clock chimed at seven p.m. by the time I finished with work, and I was all alone in the office since George had already left an hour earlier. I stretched my arms over my head slowly and leisurely, savoring the release of tension from my muscles and joints.

  Constantijin hadn’t called me for, like, hours. I knew I shouldn’t, like, be all messed up about it, but I was. And I was, like, super mad at myself for, like, caring---

  Stop, Yanna. This see-saw thing Constantijin and I was in was turning me more and more into Alicia Silverstone during her Clueless days. Usually, when I panicked, I only got as far as sounding as Reese Witherspoon’s Legally Blonde character. This was, like, so much worse.

  Sighing, I clicked the function key shortcut to save my file and got to my feet. Relax, Yanna. I had to stop obsessing over Constantijin. I tiptoed, stretching again.

  “Tired?”

  I froze.

  Oh. My. God.

  Why was he here?

  Turning around slowly, I saw Constantijin leaning against the doorway, minus his blazer, shirt hanging loose over his pants and several buttons undone, revealing more of his gloriously hard chest than usual.

  "I thought you'd be out the whole day," I blurted out. He had texted me just this afternoon about having to leave the office early. I had texted back with a simple TC message, all the while trying not to think how boyfriend-like he sounded.

  "I came here to pick up certain documents and I saw the lights were still on here."

  "Oh." I started fixing my things. "So, where are you going next?"

  "Yanna?"

  "Mmm?"

  He walked towards me and stopped just before my cubicle, leaving a few feet of distance between us.

  For some reason, I hated that he did that – putting space between us. I knew it was silly of me, but that was how I felt.

 
"Why do I have a feeling that something's not right?" he drawled.

  He was smart – really smart! I knew he couldn't have been a billionaire without being smart. I shrugged uneasily. "I don't know," I lied.

  "Yanna." His voice held a warning note.

  I continued fixing my things but it was a delaying tactic that couldn't last longer than a minute. I forced myself to look back at him. "It's just that---" Damn! How should I say this?

  "What is it?"

  "It's weird," I burst out.

  He raised a brow.

  The moment I started speaking, it was as if I couldn't stop. "Every time you look at me, it's weird! Every time, I think of you, it's weird! And I don't think it's fair because it's not as if you find it weird, too! You talk to me like it's an everyday thing and yet when I'm with you it's like I can't breathe!"

  And then I realized what I had just revealed. I gasped and slapped my hands over my mouth. My super big tactless mouth!

  But when I looked at Constantijin, he wasn't smiling like I feared he would. He actually looked...furious. "Maybe you're not just as sensitive as you think you are," he retorted.

  "What?"

  "How do you think I feel? All the fucking men here can look and talk to you freely but I'm not allowed to do that, am I? I'm the one who's courting you but I can't tell anyone that and I can't warn the other guys off!" He shot me another look of irritation. "And you think I'm not affected?"

  Wow.

  I wanted to throw myself at him after that but I controlled myself. It took every ounce of my control but I succeeded. "Good!"

  He glared at me.

  I lifted my shoulders helplessly. "Do you want me to lie? You're out of my league, Constantijin. So I'm really happy to see that I affect you."

  "Will I fucking court you if you didn't?" he snarled.

  I wanted to comfort him but I didn't know how. Or maybe I wasn't ready yet. I sighed. "I know you're impatient. But it's too soon. Just too soon." I looked at him pleadingly. "You understand, right?"

  He placed his hands inside his pockets and nodded. "But you have to trust me one day. You either do or don't, Yanna. I know I fucked up. I've already owed up to it. But we need to get past it. If you don't...then there's no point for me to continue courting you, right?"

  I nodded.

  We stared at each other, both our gazes shuttered to hide the emotions we were feeling. He said slowly, “Maybe I can drive you home tonight?”

  Sports car or bus?

  It was a no-brainer.

  “Maybe next time,” I replied just as slowly. Bus was so much safer for my heart.

  He stiffened, and I knew it was because he wasn’t the type who experienced rejection so easily.

  I forced a smile. “So, see you tomorrow, all right?” I waited for him to leave, to say something – to do anything just so I could be more certain of where I stood with him.

  Constantijin finally glanced at me, his face impassive. He stepped aside.

  My heart skipped a beat, in a bad way. That felt very symbolic for me and for one instant, I could imagine how excruciating it would feel if he really did step aside and stopped coming after me.

  “See you tomorrow,” he said just as politely.

  Walking past him with trembling legs, I felt his gaze on me all the way out of my office. I hated how he used to blow hot and cold with me, but now I realized that I was doing the same thing with him. It wasn’t right and yet – everything else I could do felt wrong.

  Something had to give, but I just wasn’t sure what, and it scared me.

  Lesson #8

  The only kind of threesome that your billionaire understands

  will have something to do with you and another woman.

  The days of the week seemed especially long when I thought about Constantijin but it seemed too short when I focused on my work. I still couldn't make my mind up about him.

  Did I trust him? Did I love him or was I just blinded by how gorgeous and seductive he was?

  Tuesday was awkward. Constantijin had called me up, but he wasn’t his usual wickedly teasing self and I had a feeling we were both relieved when he received an urgent request for a business meeting over Skype with his assistant in Netherlands.

  Wednesday was slightly better. Constantijin had asked if I wanted to go out, and on impulse I invited him to accompany me to church. We knelt on the pew side by side, and when I looked at the enormous gold-plated crucifix before me, I realized that what I wanted to pray for was not something I should pray for.

  I mean, God was, like, our Dad in heaven right? So I couldn’t very well pray Dear God, please, please make things okay between Constantijin and me because I want him to be the one to take my virginity.

  Thursday was also fine. We watched a movie. I waited with bated breath the whole time for Constantijin to make a move but he didn’t. When we got home, I had a hard time remembering what the movie was about, but I could easily write a fifty-page commentary about how good Constantijin smelled. In the darkness of the theater, his scent – which had a hint of spiciness from his cologne – weaved a seductive spell that literally had me shaking in an effort not to be the first one to touch him.

  Oh, Constantijin. What should I do with you?

  And then Friday arrived, and I was about to make another presentation. We were in yet another conference room, bigger than the previous one we were in. I almost felt like Goldilocks, hopping from one increasingly large bed to another, only this time I got a stage that kept getting grander and grander. In fact, this one even had actual twenty-foot stage curtains.

  I was up last again, and when I heard George finishing his presentation, I checked my reflection on the mirror one last time. I had on a short turtleneck black dress, with tight fitting long sleeves and which hugged my figure to perfection. I also had my reading glasses on – not because I needed it (I only used it at night) but more because I wanted to look sexy and serious at the same time.

  Yes, I knew it was silly but so what? It was what gave me false confidence.

  The Future of Smut: Japanese Style in the US Market

  There are two ways of looking at Japanese styled smut. One is to consider it soft porn or the more decent version of hentai. The other is to describe it as those containing suggestive or sexually explicit scenes that are nevertheless tastefully rendered and add something to the story.

  Sex between high school couples on TV is something we’re used to seeing – but not to the extent of how it’s drawn in manga. It’s a lot more graphic, sensual, sexy, and just plain hot – it can easily cause public outrage.

  But…sex sells. And I know that at the end of the day, that matters a lot. If Kastein Inc. chooses to adapt smutty manga for American television, I only propose one thing: show the consequences of high school sex. If we have to make our own version of its ending, so be it. Parents can say all they want about the sex, but at least they can’t ever blame our company for not taking the opportunity to educate younger viewers about the harsher realities of unprotected and unplanned sex.

  When I finished my report, I almost cried. Sex was not a word I could so easily say to a roomful of people and for several times, my voice even cracked while I was talking. It was hard because I wasn’t even sure if what I was suggesting was the right thing. All I knew was that it was what I believed in.

  But then people started clapping as they got to their feet. When the lights were switched on, I immediately saw Constantijin standing at the back of the room, clapping as well, his eyes warm as he gazed at me.

  As Charli took the stage, I could feel Constantijin’s gaze following me, and I became even more flustered and giddy. When I got down, I turned towards his direction – and ended up staring at Arian, whose eyes threw daggers at me.

  I quickly turned around and made a detour to George instead. Now was not yet the right time to have a face-off with her over Constantijin.

  Charli joked about me being the right choice for such a topic. She said that I was a good sy
mbol of America’s "conservative regions" because I couldn’t even utter the word ‘sex’ without cringing.

  I blushed on cue and that got the whole crowd laughing even more.

  Word quickly got around about the positive outcome of our conference. When George and I walked out of our office, almost everyone we passed by congratulated us.

  Honestly, it made me feel like a superstar.

  A superstar who was walking at snail’s pace because there was this one person who hadn’t congratulated me yet.

  “Yanna?” George called impatiently.

  I paused next to the drinking station. “Umm, I’m thirsty. I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” It was a lie, of course. I was waiting for Constantijin. Surely he should be appearing any moment now?

  Bending down, I gulped several mouthfuls of water. By the time I straightened, someone already stood next to me. My heart started beating fast.

  It was---

  Not Constantijin.

  Drake’s grin turned wry. “Disappointed it’s me?”

  I was instantly horrified. “Oh, no! No, absolutely!” God, I sucked at lying.

  His grin widened. “It’s all right. I just wanted to congratulate you. I heard you did a really great job this afternoon.”

  “Thanks.” I was doing my best not to blush but it was impossible. The way Drake looked at me never failed to make me feel desirable and self-conscious all at the same time. It was just too bad I already felt like I, well, belonged to someone else.

  Drake cleared his throat and I glanced up in surprise because this was the first time he sounded less than his usual confident self.

  “So…this is going to come out of the blue but I’d really love to take you out sometime – celebrate your future promotion maybe?”

  “There’s no promotion,” I protested laughingly.

  “But seriously, how about dinner?”

  “Uhh…” And that was when I noticed Constantijin standing just a short distance away, his gaze shuttered. Oh, shit! Had he heard Drake asking me out?

  Drake turned around curiously, following my gaze and was visibly startled when he saw Constantijin looking at us. “Mr. Kastein,” he murmured in greeting.

 

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