Blind Girl: A Dark Billionaire Romance

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Blind Girl: A Dark Billionaire Romance Page 6

by Kiss, Tabatha

I reach for my clutch and pull out my phone.

  Gabby picks up before the end of the first ring. “Tell me everything.”

  I laugh into the phone. “Good morning to you, too, Gabby,” I say.

  “Yeah, yeah. Good morning, Alice. Tell me everything,” she repeats.

  “Later,” I say. “Listen, you wouldn’t happen to have some extra clothes stashed at the hotel, would you?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” she answers. “Why?”

  “I don’t want to walk across campus in this dress.”

  “Why not?” she asks.

  “It’s a pretty obvious walk of shame.”

  I can hear her smirk through the phone. “Do you feel shameful, Alice?” she asks.

  “No,” I answer. “I just don’t feel like wearing it again.”

  “Well, sorry. I can’t help you. Oh — wait. Maybe I can. Hold on, I’ll get right back to you.”

  The call disconnects. “Gabby?” I say to no one. I sigh and drop the phone on the bed. I reach for a slice of bacon and chew on it for a few moments as I try to think of a plan B. Walking back home won’t be the worst thing in the world if I keep my head down and ignored the world around me, but I still can’t bring myself to do it.

  My phone buzzes against the bedspread. I pick it up and see a new text from Gabby.

  Five minutes.

  I breathe a sigh of relief, thinking that she found a way to make it downtown with a spare change of clothes. I text back a thank you and sit down on the bed to enjoy a little more breakfast.

  Finally, a knock strikes the door. I rush to the door and throw it open without checking the peephole first.

  A man stands in the hallway with a small pile of clothes folded up in his hands. I recognize him immediately as Ian Botsford, the owner of the hotel, and Gabby’s new flame. He’s far more handsome than I remember. He carries a youthful face, one that does a good job at hiding his real age, along with a thick head of golden blond hair and sky blue eyes.

  “Hi—” My breath catches in my throat as I try to greet him.

  “You must be Alice,” he says.

  My fingers nervously grip the bathrobe closer to my body. “Yeah… and you’re Ian,” I say.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says as he extends a hand. “Gabby speaks highly of you.”

  I reach out and shake his hand with trembling fingers. “You, too.”

  He holds up the clothes. “She tells me you’re in need of some more appropriate apparel,” he says. I let him slide it into my hands. I immediately recognize the golden outline on black. A hotel employee uniform. “It’s not much, but it’s the best I can do at the last minute.”

  “Oh, it’s perfect,” I say as I take it from him. “You didn’t even have to do this. Thank you.”

  Ian raises an eyebrow. “Oh, Gabby doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” he jokes.

  I laugh. “That’s very true. And I’ll get this back to you, I promise.”

  He waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it. It’s an older style, we don’t use them anymore.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I recognize you— from the Blind Girl Party,” He regards me with a pensive glance. “You two girls were hard to miss — and I mean that as the greatest of compliments.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I saw you with Charles Kent.”

  I give an awkward nod. “That was me, yes…”

  “You must have really made an impression on him,” he says. “He doesn’t give his time to just anybody.”

  “It was an interesting evening.”

  “I’ve known Kent for a long time,” he says with a nod as his eyes linger into the room behind me. “And if I were to wager a guess,” he begins, “I’d say we have him to thank for this morning’s events, correct?”

  I can feel the blood rushing toward my cheeks. I don’t even have to answer. He nods with understanding.

  “Don’t take it personal,” he warns. “This is just something he does.”

  “Oh?”

  “He likes to retain an air of mystery,” Ian mutters and shakes his head. “Show a girl a good time, she wakes up alone begging for more. He’s an ass.”

  “I see…”

  “Although…” He bites his lip. “I’ve never seen him pursue the same girl twice.” He takes a step back. “You must have done something to hold his attentions.”

  “I have no idea…” I breathe a small laugh.

  “Well… consider yourself special. Or not, depending on your perspective, I guess.”

  “At least he bought me breakfast,” I joke.

  Ian laughs.

  “Well, thank you—” I hold up the clothes. “For this, too.”

  “Take care, Alice.”

  And with that, he turns and makes his way down the hall. I close the door and inspect the clothes he gave me to find a black pencil skirt and a matching blouse with the hotel’s insignia embroidered on the right breast pocket. They fit me perfectly and won’t make me stand out like a sore thumb when I hail a cab.

  I finish eating what I can of the massive breakfast Charles left for me and gather my things.

  Don’t take it personal.

  I try to remember that leaving me here to wake up alone was just Charles’ thing, but I can’t help feeling a little stung.

  The departure down in the golden elevator feels longer than usual. I find myself sharing the ride with an elegant couple. The man stands tall in a blue suit, staring forward and waiting patiently. The woman, with red hair and thick lips, keeps glancing in my direction.

  “I’m sorry—” she finally says a few floors from the lobby. “Is that a Faleuro gown?”

  I chuckle and look at the dress casually draped over my arm. “Yes, it is,” I answer.

  “Wow…” Her eyes look me up and down. I can see the wheel spinning in her head, wondering how a girl like me managed to obtain it. She nudges the man next to her in the ribs. “I wish I could get a hold of a dress like that,” she hints with no subtlety.

  “Yeah, yeah,” the man mutters.

  The doors finally open and I walk through the lobby feeling a little better about myself.

  “Ms. Hughes!”

  I pause at the sound of my name as I step outside. A man stands in front of a black limo parked on the curb just outside the hotel.

  “Yes?” I ask him. He’s a tall, elderly man with a bald head, his scalp hidden underneath a black cap with matching jacket.

  “My name is Harvey. I’m Mr. Kent’s personal driver,” he says. “Mr. Kent said you may need a ride back to school.”

  “Oh…” I slowly move closer to him. “He did?”

  He reaches for the car’s door handle with a smile.

  I inch closer to him. “Have you been waiting long?” I ask, suddenly feeling conscious of how much time I spent getting ready and eating breakfast.

  He shakes his head. “No, Ms. Hughes,” he answers. “In fact, you’re right on time from Mr. Kent’s estimation.”

  “Really?” I ask.

  “Well…” he laughs. “You’re technically early. He was ten minutes off.”

  I pause to let his words sink in. “Oh. That’s… a little creepy,” I say, only half joking.

  Harvey nods. “That’s Mr. Kent.”

  “Yeah, I’m starting to get that…” I glance at the car again, feeling very overwhelmed.

  “Hop in,” he says. “I’ll get you back to school in one piece.”

  I nod and climb into the car. I sit down with my hands on my lap, frozen in place, but my eyes dart around. My mind buzzes with possibilities as I see various compartments in the walls and wonder what could be stashed inside of them. I want desperately to open the sunroof, but it’s far too cold to do so. The world passes by me and as I scan the faces of those passing by, I wonder if they’re curious as to who is inside. I know I always am when I see cars like this and for the first time, it’s me on the inside. My adrenaline runs wild.

 
“Umm… Harvey?” I ask, quickly remembering his name.

  His eyes glance back at me in the rearview mirror. “Yes, Ms. Hughes?”

  “Do you know where Charles is?” I ask him.

  “As of seven o’clock this morning, Mr. Kent is on a flight to Paris.”

  “Paris?” I blink. “Wow… he didn’t mention.”

  “He will be there until Wednesday, back in the office on Thursday,” he says.

  “Thank you.”

  Harvey smiles politely at me through the mirror but quickly glances back to the road ahead.

  I stay silent the rest of the trip back to school, but my mind never rests for a moment. When the car comes to stop in front of my dorm, Harvey steps outside. My cheeks turn pink when I realize what he’s doing.

  The car door opens and he waits patiently for me to step out.

  I keep my head down as I do so, hoping to conceal my face from anyone passing by.

  “Thank you,” I say to Harvey as my feet move quickly away from the car.

  “Ms. Hughes.”

  I pause and turn back to face him.

  Harvey slides a gloved hand into his breast pocket and withdraws a white business card. “Mr. Kent wanted me to make myself available to you while he’s out of the country.”

  “Oh…” I reach out and take the card.

  “This is my direct line,” he says. “Please call if you’re in need of my services.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “I probably won’t, but…” I breathe a laugh, the situation feeling rather surreal.

  He tips his head. “Mr. Kent said you’d say that,” he smirks, “but just in case, do not hesitate to call.”

  I nod and he turns back to the car.

  “Harvey—”

  He pauses. “Yes, Ms. Hughes?”

  “Does he… do this a lot? You know… for anyone else?” I ask, biting my lips.

  Harvey smiles. “No, Ms. Hughes. He does not.”

  I nod once more. “Okay. Thank you.” I twitch an awkward wave in his direction and make my way up the walk towards the dorm.

  ***

  “Tell me everything.”

  I laugh as Gabby’s demanding voice calls out to me before I even step inside our room. She drops her magazine and sits up on her bed with wide eyes.

  “It was fine,” I say as I step over to the closet.

  “Fine? It was fine? That’s all I get? Fine?”

  I grab a hanger and slip the blue dress onto it. “We had a good time,” I say. I latch the hanger into the closet and step away. “I think.”

  Her eyes shrink into narrow slits. “What’d he do?” she asks.

  “It’s not anything he did,” I explain. “More about what he didn’t do, if that makes sense.”

  “I’m going to need more than that,” Gabby says. “Plus coffee.”

  I get changed quickly and we set out across campus towards the student union. Once we’ve both had a fair dosage of sweet caffeine, I tell her everything during the walk back to the dorm.

  “Paris?” Gabby asks as she takes a long sip of her drink.

  “Paris.”

  “And he just like… left you there?”

  “Ian told me not to take it personally,” I say. “It’s just something he does, apparently.”

  “What’s he even do? Like, for a living?”

  “I don’t know.” We pause as a man on a bike passes by in front of us.

  “You don’t know? You haven’t Googled him yet?” She stares at me with wide eyes she reaches into her pocket for her phone.

  “No…” I say. “Was I supposed to?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, girl.” Gabby’s fingers dance along her touch screen. I peek over her shoulder as we walk and watch as she types his name into a search engine. “And he hasn’t told you himself?” she asks. “What do you two talk about anyway?”

  “I don’t know… Me, mostly, I guess,” I answer. “And Greek mythology.”

  Her head jerks in my direction. “Seriously?” she asks.

  “Is that bad?”

  “Well, it’s not the kind of pillow talk that gets me going, but to each her own.” She slides a finger up the screen. “Here we go. Head of the Kent Insurance Corporation, current overseer of their international division. I guess that explains the sudden Paris trip.”

  I place a hand on the phone and tilt it towards me to get a better look. “Yeah, that’s definitely him,” I say as I stare at his photo.

  “My god, he has gorgeous eyes,” Gabby says. “I couldn’t see them that well before.”

  “Well, you were blindfolded,” I point out.

  “Oh yeah…”

  I take the phone from her and scroll a little more through his bio. “He has an office in the city,” I read. “Just down the street from the hotel.”

  “You should go surprise him!” she shouts.

  “No.” I shake my head.

  “I did that to Ian last week and we totally had sex in his office. I bet Charles would love that.”

  “Maybe some other time.” I give her back the phone. “I don’t even know if he wants to see me again.”

  “Why don’t you text him and find out?”

  “I don’t have his number.”

  She pauses. “He hasn’t given you his number?”

  I turn to face her. “There’s something wrong with this, isn’t there?” I ask.

  Her face hops back and forth between sympathy and confusion. “Well… I mean… it’s not normal, I guess.”

  “Ian said Charles doesn’t pursue the same girl twice,” I say. “If I’m that special, why is he treating me like every other girl and leaving me behind in hotel rooms?”

  Gabby shrugs. “Who knows?”

  “What the hell am I doing, Gabby?” I ask her, clinging to an awful desperation.

  “Well, he’s nice to you, right?” she asks. “You know, during…”

  “Yes. He’s really nice. We seem to get along together well enough. But then…” I furrow my brow, “the feeling passes and one of us sneaks out while the other isn’t looking.”

  “Maybe you’re thinking about this too much,” she suggests.

  “Or maybe he just doesn’t want me around the way Ian wants you around.”

  “I guess you won’t know until you ask him,” she says.

  “I can’t do that,” I say. We continue walking towards the dorm. “He’s too old for this kind of drama. I need to rise to his level and stop thinking like an idiot teenager.”

  “You are an idiot teenager,” Gabby quips. “And I think a man that makes a habit of bedding college girls should get used to it. If he doesn’t like it, he should date women his own age.”

  “Yikes,” I laugh.

  “Well, it’s true.”

  “And how does Ian fair with all of your bullshit teenage drama?” I ask.

  She smiles. “He finds it charming, of course.”

  “Of course, he does,” I murmur under my breath.

  “Fuck you. I’m adorable.”

  I smile at her. “I know. I’m just… projecting.”

  “Alice, you have to put your foot down,” she urges. “If you want to be treated like a queen, you have to demand it. He’ll get it together if he knows what’s good for him.”

  “Maybe.”

  She sighs. “Do you want me to get Ian to beat him up for you?”

  I roll my eyes. She’s saying it to make me feel better. It’s working, a little. “No, thanks,” I say with a small laugh. “I think I’ll just wait it out. Who knows? Maybe he won’t even contact me again and I can just get on with my life.”

  “Boo. You’re no fun.”

  I take a sip of my coffee, which has unfortunately gone cold. “Or maybe I should just enjoy what I have, you know? How many girls can say they’re sleeping with a billionaire that buys them fancy clothes and lets them use their personal driver to get around town?”

  Gabby leans in and throws her arm around my shoulder. “That’s the spirit!” she
shouts. “God — don’t you just love rich people?”

  “I guess it could be worse.”

  “It could definitely be worse.”

  “I think I like him, Gabby,” I say.

  “I think you do, too, Alice,” she says.

  I take the last sip of cold coffee before tossing into a trash can.

  Chapter 6

  You Have to Demand It

  I decide to take Gabby’s advice and surprise Charles in his office. After my last class of the day, I rush back to the dorm to get changed. It’s Thursday afternoon. Harvey told me that Charles would be back in his office today.

  I enlist Gabby’s help in getting ready to surprise him. She lends me a tight, black skirt with a slit that travels halfway up my thigh and matching blouse, one with enough visible cleavage to choke a nun.

  “Oh, my god…” she beams. “He’s going to love this.”

  I can’t help but soak up her enthusiasm like a sponge. The last week has been a haze of what ifs and maybes.

  “I don’t know, Gabby,” I say as she applies liner to my eyes. “What if I’m just another young piece of ass to him?”

  “Oh, no way,” she says. “Now, stay still or I’ll blind you.”

  “Ian told me not to take it personally,” I repeat his warning, trying to hold my head steady for her.

  “Then don’t,” she says. “Ian’s a smart guy. He knows what he’s talking about.”

  “I just wish I knew for sure…” I take a deep breath. “Does he quote Greek myth to all of us? Does he mold the story’s theme to apply to any situation with the intention of wooing panties off?”

  Gabby sighs. “I don’t know.”

  She’s annoyed with me, I can tell, but I can’t stop the wheel in my head from spinning.

  “Sorry,” I mutter.

  She stands up tall and tilts my face upward into the light to inspect her work. “Okay…” she says. “When you get there, act like you own the whole fucking place.”

  I laugh. “What?”

  “No, really,” she nods. “You are his queen. Keep your head held high, put your murder face on, and just walk right into his office.”

  “My murder face?…”

  “I saw it on Ellen,” she explains. She stands up tall with her shoulders down. “You straighten up, look ahead, and just think like you’re there to kill somebody.”

 

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