Cruel Billionaire

by Luma Rose

  I look away from the window to see Garrin approaching the table. He’s dressed in a slim-fitting black suit with a bold red tie. He looks every bit the powerful man he is. Even if you didn’t know exactly who he is, you’d still know he’s someone.

  His dark hair is styled up and away from his face, and I can’t help but notice the way his dark eyes roam up and down my body when I stand to greet him.

  I chose a fitted black dress with a thin rhinestone belt at my waist. I tug at my long sleeves, still unsure if it’s appropriate for tonight or not. Even though no real skin is exposed, it always seemed sexy to me. Every woman enjoys looking nice for a man, especially a man like Garrin.

  “Not long at all.”

  He leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek, his hand flat against the small of my back. The smell of his cologne causes my eyes to close, and I inhale deeply. Not only does he look divine, he smells divine. I step back before I appear like a creep. Our gazes lock, and it takes the clearing of his throat for me to look away.

  It would be easy to get lost in this man if he ever wanted to offer me the right kind of attention, but I have to remember how he treated me when I first arrived back in Cherry Creek. I don’t trust any man easily, and Garrin’s earlier attitude means he’ll have to work extra hard for my trust, if he ever gets it at all.

  He holds my chair out for me to sit and then goes to his side of the table. I catch a glimpse of his firm chest under his dress shirt when he opens his suit jacket to sit down. The waiter comes over as soon as Garrin is settled, and once he’s ordered a bottle of wine and approved it and all the mundane chitchat is out of the way, his shoulders lose some of the tension.

  “How have you enjoyed your time since you’ve been back?” he asks.

  What a loaded question—how could I enjoy myself given the reason I’m here? But the truth is, I have enjoyed working with Ford on his campaign and feeling like I make a difference.

  “It was a difficult decision to come back, but things have gone better than I expected in that regard. At least no one has thrown what happened in my face. I’m not so naïve as to think there aren’t whispers behind my back.” I stop abruptly when I realize that’s not entirely true and that I’m sitting across from the one person who did.

  “I want to apologize again for my behavior. It was immature, and you weren’t deserving of it.” He sips at his wineglass.

  “That’s true, but at least I understand better why you were like that. It makes more sense anyway.” I lift my wineglass to my lips and take a healthy mouthful of the dark red liquid. As childish as it is for Garrin to act like that because I crushed his ego a decade ago by going on a date with Asher, I understand how things in high school have a way of staying with you.

  “Perhaps, but that was a long time ago. I should be over it.” He breaks eye contact with me and looks around the restaurant.

  “Why were you still so upset with me?”

  His hand clenches the stem of his wineglass a little tighter.

  “Let’s just say it was the beginning of a bad time for me. That event was the catalyst for a lot of things that followed.”

  I scrunch my forehead, not sure what he’s getting at. “What things?”

  Garrin shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter, just a bunch of high school shit.” He sips his wine, and I follow suit. “Why did you decide to come home, anyway?”

  “No special reason,” I lie. “I finished law school and I’m studying for the bar exam, so I figured why not.”

  It’s like we’re playing a game of dodgeball with the questions—who can dodge the other longer.

  Before he can dig any further, the waiter approaches to see if we’re ready to order. Garrin orders for me, which would usually irritate me, but I like what he chooses, so I decide not to make an issue of it this time. “I saw you had a steak at Cooperstone. I promise you’ll love this one much more.”

  The fact he saw what I was eating with his back turned to me when I was at dinner with Everly shouldn’t make me warm and fuzzy, and the butterflies need to die a quick death in my belly. No matter how much I try to fight them away, they’re alive and fluttering, bringing a blush to my cheeks.

  “What have you been up to since high school? Did you go away for college?” I ask him.

  “I went to Columbia for four years, then my father wanted me back here to help with Stone Energy.” There’s a complete lack of excitement in his tone, which saddens me. A memory from high school reminds me how he conveyed one time that his life’s path had been set for him long before he was ever born. When classmates would talk about majors and what we wanted to be, Garrin never added to the conversation.

  “Oh, that’s right, I remember you saying—” I stop when I realize my error. Jesus, I’m putting my foot in it tonight. My face heats.

  “It’s okay, you can say his name. I was supposed to share an apartment with Carter.”

  My mouth tips down into a frown. I’d heard about Carter’s suicide shortly after it happened, about a year after I left Cherry Creek, and the first thing I had thought of was Garrin and how he was holding up. The Classholes were a tight group, but everyone knew that Garrin and Carter had spent more time together than they spent with the other guys. They’d always walk the halls together, and they played lacrosse together. Anytime you saw one of them, the other was there too.

  “I was really surprised when I heard what happened. He always seemed so happy. Like the life of the party. I couldn’t believe he took his own life.”

  Garrin shrugs like he couldn’t care either way. What it must be like to hold in so much emotion. “I don’t know what the asshole was thinking.”

  “He didn’t leave a note?” I ask.

  “Nope.” He shakes his head. “We lived together in New York for about three months, but he dropped out after first semester. I knew something was going on with him by the way he acted, but… I never would’ve guessed he’d do what he did.”

  I lean forward and squeeze his hand in mine to offer comfort. Garrin stiffens, and though his head doesn’t move, his gaze darts down to where our hands are joined. I retract my hand, feeling foolish for thinking he’d want my condolences.

  “I’m sure no one had any idea. You can’t blame yourself.”

  He says nothing, instead bringing his wineglass to his lips.

  “So, how did you like Columbia?” I ask, quick to change the subject.

  Garrin’s features don’t soften as he tells me about his college experience, and by the time we’ve exhausted that subject, the waiter has arrived with our meals. Courtesy of Garrin’s ordering, we both have steaks that look and smell delicious.

  I enjoy the view out the window for a moment while I settle my napkin on my lap. Our meal starts in silence, and the awkwardness between us grows until I can’t take it anymore.

  “I have to say I was surprised to see you at my door the other day, with an apology no less.” I spear a piece of the steak with my fork and bring it to my lips. The tender meat has been cooked to perfection.

  He cuts his steak, the knife going through the meat like it’s butter. “It was overdue, and I was embarrassed that I let something from my past control my actions. I should’ve apologized that same night I said those terrible things.”

  He seems sincere. I don’t know, though. It’s hard to imagine given the amount of malice in his voice before. How did he get from here to there so fast? Maybe someone told him he was being an asshole? Then again, Garrin doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who takes criticism well.

  I lay my silverware down on my plate. “Well, like you said—we’re starting over.” I smile and raise my glass to sip my wine.

  “To starting over.” He clinks his glass with mine and we each take a sip, watching one another over the rim of our glasses.

  It almost feels natural. Like we’re on a date with the hope of a future and my father isn’t at home fighting for his life. But I’m not sure if this is a romantic date, and my dad is fighting an
ugly disease.

  I set my glass down and pick up my cutlery. “So, why aren’t you married or engaged? I’m assuming that since we’re out together, there’s no one special in your life?”

  “This isn’t a romantic date. I could be taken.” His head is dipped down, concentrating on his asparagus.

  I mask my sudden misstep and fill my fork with a pile of mashed potatoes just to keep my mouth shut.

  “I’m kidding. Why aren’t you?” he counters.

  Relief floods through my body and I’m not sure why. It can’t be because I didn’t want him to be with someone else. That’s definitely not it, because I promised myself I wouldn’t play romantically within the Classhole circle anymore.

  Garrin is the master of deflection. Maybe if I’m honest with him, he’ll do the same. There’s nothing I’d like more than to get back to the friendship we once shared. Truth is, I don’t have many friends. I haven’t been good at letting people into my life. But that’s part of why I’m here, right? To change that. I guess that therapist was worth her money. She’s brainwashed me to think like her.

  “Honestly, after everything that happened with the sex tape, I’ve been wary of men. I don’t trust them easily—anyone, really.”

  He appears chagrined for a moment, nodding his head as if he thinks he should have known that.

  “So you haven’t dated anyone since you left?” He raises an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe, Isla. You’re a very beautiful woman.”

  My cheeks heat with his praise and I break eye contact, looking down at the table. I don’t know why he affects me so much. It’s not as if a fair number of men haven’t tried to use compliments to get me into bed before. But then again, maybe that’s the difference. I’m fairly sure Garrin has no interest in taking me to bed, which is why his compliment means more.

  His deep chuckle causes me to look back up at him. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I can’t be the first person who’s ever told you that.”

  “No, of course not. And, yes, I’ve dated a handful of people in Washington, but nothing ever got to the point of being serious.” I shrug and take another bite of my dinner.

  “You haven’t been intimate with a man you dated?”

  I choke when the piece of steak lodges in my throat, and I have to swallow hard to get it down. I cough and reach for my glass, using the wine to wash it all the way down before either Garrin or someone else has to give me the Heimlich Maneuver.

  “I am not discussing my sex life with you, Garrin.” He’d be lost unless he’s up to date on his sex toy catalog.

  His nostrils flare when the word sex leaves my lips, and a weird energy wraps around the table. The same tension that filled the elevator that night at Titans’ Tower.

  “Why not? We’re getting reacquainted with each other, right?” He grins in a boyish way that softens the hard features of his face, reminding me more of the boy I used to daydream about than I’ve seen since I returned.

  I twirl my wineglass by the stem. “Okay, but a warning. I tell, you tell?”

  He nods.

  “Yes, I have slept with other men, not many. But it took me a long time to get to the point where I was willing to do so, and I could never get out of my head enough to really enjoy it.”

  If he’s surprised by my admission, he hides it well. He’s back to having features made of stone.

  “How unfortunate.”

  His response feels mocking, though I can’t tell if he means it to or not. I push back his judgment, although a bitterness like I walked into his trap puts a protective layer around me.

  “I’m sure you’ve enjoyed quite the healthy dating life. There’s nothing women flock to more than a gorgeous billionaire.” I give him a little attitude back.

  He lifts his glass to his lips again and studies me for a moment before placing it back on the table. I continue to eat as if I could care less.

  “You aren’t wrong. But I prefer to pay for the time of the women I keep company with. It ensures they leave afterward.”

  I pause with my fork halfway up to my mouth. Did Garrin just admit that he’s paying for sex?

  I lean in across the table. “You hire hookers?” I whisper as if I’m some scandalized southern debutante. I’ve spent nearly a decade in Washington. The mention of prostitutes should not alarm me.

  He lifts his strong shoulder in a shrug. “I prefer to think of them as paid companions, but you can call them what you want.”

  Wow. There really is no bullshitting with this man. What you see is what you get.

  Weirdly, I like it. In fact, I prefer truth even if the truth isn’t pretty.

  “You’ve never had a… normal relationship with a woman?”

  “So far no one has intrigued me enough to make me want one. I enjoy my arrangements at the moment. I have someone to attend social functions with, she does what I want when we fuck, and she leaves without expecting anything except to be paid.”

  The word fuck leaving Garrin’s lips causes heat to pool between my thighs.

  It’s not the first time I’ve thought about Garrin in bed. I wondered in high school, but that was more about if he was experienced or not—if we ever got there, would I be embarrassed to be the novice and him an expert? Now, I’m sure he’s like a professional in the act of getting a woman off. Or maybe if he’s hiring hookers, he doesn’t bother pleasing them. Maybe he just has them please him.

  The thought of him receiving a blow job startles me. I drop my cutlery on the table.

  I haven’t had a thought like that about a man in… forever. Usually I’m forcing myself to list the reasons why I should be attracted to a man to try and get myself over the hump of wanting to be intimate with him.

  “I’m not really sure what to say about that.” My hand shakes as I reach for my wineglass.

  Garrin finishes chewing and levels me with a stare. “I suspect we’re somewhat alike in the fact that we don’t allow anyone else to get too close to us.”

  I clear my throat. “I suspect we are.”

  We eat in silence for a few more minutes, and for the first time since this dinner started, there’s an awkwardness between us. I can’t stop picturing him in bed with a professional escort—because there’s no doubt in my mind that if Garrin is paying for his company, he’s employing the best of the best. There’s no street corner junkie hooker for Garrin Stone.

  “Can I ask you something?” He finally breaks the silence.

  “Sure.” I’m almost afraid to hear what it is he wants to know after what he just so easily admitted.

  “Why did you sleep with Asher?”

  My fork and knife go still in my hands, and I look across the table at him.

  He wipes his mouth with his napkin. “I just never understood it. I get now how you thought I’d asked someone else to prom, and I know we were both kind of into each other, but you didn’t seem like the type to sleep with someone like him.”

  “As opposed to someone like you?” I arch an eyebrow.

  “Quite frankly, yes.”

  I’m taken aback by his bluntness. Though I don’t know why. At this point in the dinner, I should be used to it.

  “It’s stupid.” I spear the asparagus with my fork and bring it to my lips while Garrin watches with rapt attention.

  “I’d still like to know.”

  I chuckle. “I don’t exactly owe you an explanation, Garrin.” I set my fork down in exchange for my wineglass.

  “Maybe not, but I’d like one anyway.” His voice is firm and unyielding, his features hard. I suspect this is the Garrin his business colleagues see, or maybe this is the Garrin all those expensive prostitutes see in the bedroom. Either way, the way he speaks makes me want to do what he says, and I don’t understand the impulse.

  I huff. “It’s going to sound stupid. Keep in mind, I was good friends with Everly, and I was a teenager myself.”

  “Go on.” His gaze hasn’t wavered at all, and it’s all I can do not to look away from his inten
se stare. I force myself to hold his gaze while I speak.

  “I didn’t want to go to college as a virgin.”

  “Explain.”

  I roll my eyes at him before continuing. “Everly had had quite a lot of… experience by senior year, and you know what I was like. I was more into studies than my social life, and I had no experience with boys at all. My virginity started to feel like an albatross around my neck, and the closer we got to senior year, the more I wanted to lose the weight of that. I felt like a silly little girl next to Everly, and it started to really bother me.”

  “I would have been happy to help you with your problem.” He grins.

  “I’m sure you would have. And to be honest, the thought crossed my mind many times. I thought you were going to ask me out, but then when I heard you’d asked Tara to prom, it was obvious that wasn’t going to happen. I was upset and felt rejected, so when Asher asked me out on a date, I accepted.” I shrug, a little embarrassed at how destroyed I felt when I realized Garrin wasn’t into me. “I felt like a fool for even thinking for a second that you had feelings for me.”

  “What does that mean?”

  I give him my best give-me-a-break look. “You and the Classholes were like royalty at Forest View Academy. I was a bookworm who just happened to be your lab partner.”

  “I liked you. Hell, I arranged to be your partner and ended up falling hard for you.” He points to himself.

  “What?” I ask quietly.

  He runs his hand through his hair. “Fuck.”

  “Why would you try to be my lab partner?”

  He looks at me. “I needed an A and thought you could get me one, but after the first day, I realized my mistake. You were so smart and didn’t try to act stupid like so many other girls did. You owned yourself, but the joke was on me because you ended up owning me.”

  He’s kidding. Is this his way of making me feel guilty? I was right to think he had feelings for me back then.

  “Well, I didn’t know that back then. So, when Asher asked, I accepted, knowing from his reputation that he was going to try and get me into bed. With Everly’s encouragement, I decided to just get it over with.”