The Billionaire & the Princess

by Katherine E Hunt

  “Let me make it very clear that if any of these rumors turn out to be true, I will not only close down this magazine and Hank’s little project, I will destroy you.”

  Destroy me? Are we talking in a professional capacity or cement shoes?

  I sit back and look around at his entourage. None of them make eye contact. “Okay.”

  He smirks, his little thin lips trying their best to work their way into a smile, but they’re so unused to it they can’t quite make it. “I’m glad we’re on the same page … uh …”

  “Caitlyn.” I have a sudden urge to take back control of the situation. “Would you like a coffee?” Even going to the kitchen five feet away had to be better than staring for one second longer into those bottomless pits of evil.

  “Why not? Enrico insisted on paying for the most expensive machine on the market. We might as well use it. Karen.” On a figurative click of his fingers, his assistant goes straight into the kitchen and starts setting up the machine.

  Wow. He makes James bond villains look positively sweet. His bodyguard doesn’t have a bowler hat, but I don’t fancy my chances nonetheless. I need to stay on his good side, but he needles me.

  “I’ll have a white coffee two sugars,” I say. Guillermo Baresi does not like this. His lip curls, and he lets out a tiny little growl. “I have the photographs from the tea party, would you like to see? I took the opportunity to get some of your grandchildren.”

  “Why? Weren’t you supposed to be concerning yourself with the donors to my wife’s charity?” Ooh, snap. He’s vicious.

  “Oh, I got them too. More than enough for the article on both the website and the print version.”

  A couple of clicks on the mouse and the projector fires up. The late afternoon sun and the fact that the Baresi genes were of the flattering kind meant that I’d captured some amazing family photos. He sips his espresso and studies my work.

  I don’t know what I’ve expected of him. Hank has made it very clear that his father is a tyrant, both in and out of the office. Except, it appears, when it concerns certain members of his family.

  He softens a touch at the photos of his wife and children. “You have an eye. Not bad for someone so young. Enzo’s people were right to hire you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You know …” he waves his hand, struggling to find my name again, “… Honey, we’re kind of a big deal over here, you keep on this path you’ll go far. Anybody working with one of my sons needs to be objective, career-focused. That wasn’t the case with any of the people we interviewed for your position. You came highly recommended. I just hope your writing is as good as your photography.” Oh, it is. “Where is that son of mine?” He looks over to the door as if that will make Hank arrive quicker so that he can stop having to talk to me.

  “Yes, where is he?” Good God. Get here before your father feeds me a poisoned apple.

  Speak of the devil and he will appear. Hank sweeps in, dressed far better than he probably had been twenty minutes ago. I scratch my head and give him a warning stare. Those curls capture all kinds of wood shavings and dust. He runs his fingers through his curly mop and sits down. “Papa, what an honor.”

  “I was just admiring the photographs from Mama’s tea party. It was certainly worth investing in the better camera.” A camera is no good without a decent photographer, but hey, I’ve already got one compliment out of the man, I shouldn’t expect miracles.

  “Yes. So, what can we do for you, Papa?”

  “Do I need a reason to visit my son?” Hank shakes his head and stands up straighter.

  “No of course not, pleasure to have you here.” He rifles through the papers on my desk. “I have a hard copy of a series we’re doing on Churches in The Hamptons, would you like to take a look?”

  His father leans back in his chair, holds out his hand, into which Karen places his glasses, and reads through the article, without a single word. I lean on the kitchen work surface, so nobody can see me trembling.

  “Excellent work, son. You’ve done a great job. This is the quality of work we expected. Simple, clean articles about local life.”

  “It wasn’t me. It was all Caitlyn’s work; she’s really the driving force behind this place.”

  Oh fuck. “No, I’m not!” What is Hank doing? Apart from the fact that he is looking at me with hearts in his eyes, he is also making it sound like I do all the work. “Honestly, Enrico, you should take more credit for your work.”

  He scrunches up his eyebrows, I can see his mind whirring, trying to work out why I’m not calling him Hank “Are you kidding me right now? Papa, since she arrived, she’s written almost twenty articles, with photos, covering events, local business’ everything we’d imagined for the magazine.”

  “Ha!” I laughed, theatrically. “You overestimate me, Enrico; I couldn’t have done it without you.” Shut the fuck up. I do not have any desire to find out what I’ll destroy you means.

  “Are you covering that farce of a wedding next week? I don’t know what’s got into your sister and that Ellisson boy.”

  “Enrico is in the wedding party,” I said. “I’ll be covering the event on my own.”

  His father turns and looks at me and then turns back. “Do you want me to send someone along to stand in for you?”

  “In the wedding or to work with Caitlyn? No thank you, Papa, Caitlyn is perfectly capable of covering it on her own.”

  “It’s a big event.” He leans forward and raises his voice a touch. “Important.”

  “I’m not sure I can do it without your guidance,” I add.

  Hank looks over to me and is near-fatally killed by the lasers shooting out of my eyes. “No. Thanks for the offer, Papa, we’re good.”

  “Well, it’s nice to see you have faith in your staff.” With that he stands up to go, shaking his son’s hand and striding out, followed by a trail of minions, without nary a goodbye.

  I come out from my hiding place in the kitchen, walk over and double lock the front door and sit down at my desk. The seat is surprisingly warm, considering. “Well, I guess I’ve met your father now. He really loves me. I was thinking you and I could have a spring wedding.”

  “He doesn’t actually like me very much either, if that’s any comfort.” Hank walks over to me arms spread, and cradles me in them. It’s my favorite place in the world to be.

  I snuggle in, but I’m not quite feeling it. “He threatened me, us.”

  Hank freezes. “Threatened?”

  “The I will destroy you if you are sleeping with my son and letting him work on his restoration project type of threatened. What does that mean anyway, should I be leaving town? Changing my name?” Wouldn’t be the first time.

  “He hasn’t had anybody bumped off as far as I know, yet.”

  “Yet?”

  “He is Guillermo Baresi. We must all bow to his way. Leo’s first and second wives were given sizeable checks in return for never speaking to Leo, and in the case of his second wife, their children, again. That’s why this magazine was a means to an end. I only have to be a part of this until I finish my house, then I can walk away.”

  Walk away. Leave me to pick up the pieces, pack up my stuff, and go, you mean. His callousness stings. “What happens to me? When you walk away and there’s no Baresi running the place.”

  “You signed a twelve-month contract, Caitlyn.” He waves his hands in despair. “Damn it. How could I have possibly known that I would have feelings for you, that you would be so invested in this project? You were supposed to just come in, set up the magazine and give me the time to finish the house.”

  “What are we going to do, then, when it’s finished?” I don’t want this over before it’s begun. And by that I mean the job and us.

  “I have no idea. This is way too complicated, far more than it was ever supposed to be. I don’t know what to do.” He walks over to me, pulls me back into his arms. “I know I want to do it with you though, however we make it work.”

 
; He kisses the top of my head and holds me to him. In the short time that I have known Hank he’s made a very lonely, lost girl feel loved and cared for. He’s maladroit at times, but his sincerity shines through. I can’t fault him for wanting to hide his job, nor our burgeoning relationship. Even we don’t really know where we’re heading. But the knowledge that our love, if that’s what this is turning out to be, would carve a wedge between him and his family is devastating to me.

  I’ve been alone for so long, the desire to belong is always hovering in the back of my mind. I’ve finally met someone who is the epitome of a family man and yet he will be forced to choose between them and me.

  I’m so angry with myself, I have the power to change this, to be truthful with him, but I’m also angry with his family. It shouldn’t matter. Caitlyn, the British journalist who loves their son, should be enough for them.

  Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you’re still a sad, broken child in a cold church, surrounded by strangers.

  A rogue tear rolls down my cheek. “I think I need to go think about all of this.” I head towards my apartment.

  Hank grabs my hand. “No. You know how I feel about you, right? Please. You should have said something. He intimidates me everybody around him, but he shouldn’t be intimidating you, it’s not right. I won’t stand for it.” He took a deep breath. “Ever.”

  I curl up into his arms, raised my hands to his face. “This is so complicated.” More than he can imagine.

  “I’m not like them. I don’t function like them. I’m sorry, you deserve better.” His lips lower on to mine, delicately brushing against them before taking all that anger and frustration out on my mouth. He lifts me off my feet pushes me against the wall.

  “Here?”

  Unbuttoning my blouse with a mighty rip, he sinks his face into my breasts. “I want you now.”

  I sink to my knees and lower the zip of his pants, releasing the beast. “How about I thank you for all the nice things you said about my work?” Fuck. It’s all in my face, up close and personal. Lowering my mouth down onto him I sink my hand between his legs, and gently caress his balls.

  Slowly, surely, I build him up, my hands and tongue reacting to every gasp that comes out of his mouth. He deserves this; he deserves every single sensual lick.

  His ecstatic cries grow louder, releasing his resentment. He relaxes into me, his knees giving way. He pushes harder into me, wanting more, faster. “Hey.” I pull back. “I’m in charge here.”

  “Sorry.” He looks down at me and bites his lip as I lower my mouth back on to him, just the tip, my hands doing all the hard work. Leaning on the wall to steady himself, his head thrown back, he shakes and convulses as I bring him to fruition. I pull away and empty him over my breasts.

  A blowjob for my billionaire boss. So much for fighting the patriarchy. But Hank isn’t the problem. He’s trapped in a world he simply doesn’t belong to. A world entirely controlled by his father.

  I’m not mad at him, I’m not even mad at his family, except Guillermo fucking Baresi. I just can’t see a way forward for us without somebody getting hurt. The more Hank and I fight to make it work, the more we fall for each other and the harder it will be when the truth comes out.

  Dropping to his knees, Hank swirls a delicate finger under my chin and lifts my face to his. “How about we take the afternoon off? You’ve been working so hard and I need to make sure you are thoroughly thanked for everything you do around here.”

  “You’re going to thank me personally?”

  “I am going to thank you long and hard. I am going to thank you and then I’m going to thank you again and just when you think you can’t take any more I’m going to thank the hell out of you one last time.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Caitlyn

  It isn’t a bachelorette party, as such, more of a girl’s night in, or so I’ve been told. And as for my invitation, well that’s really more Claire and Jen’s doing than the bride to be, but here I am, joining the girls plus Becky’s immensely beautiful, immensely tall sister, Holly, at Jen’s house.

  “This is more a summer residence,” says Jen as she gives me a tour of the property, “it used to belong to my great aunt and when she died my parents gave it to me. I use it when I’m not working, or at the weekends. My real home is in the city.”

  We stop in the master bedroom; there’s a beautiful sea view. “I can see why you love it, though, it’s a beautiful house.”

  “I miss the noise and the smells. I miss getting bagels for breakfast and the hustle and bustle of the New York sidewalk. This place has its charms, but it’s not for me.”

  “I’d love to go one day, to the city, I’ve never been.”

  “Really?” She turns her head to one side as if she is trying to understand the strange creature before her. “Why?”

  “When I was a kid, it was lack of money, as an adult lack of time, opportunity.” I point at myself. “Real person, remember?”

  She laughs. “Well, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we? You’ll have to come visit.” She gives me a shoulder hug, and we make our way back downstairs.

  The large living room has been decorated with the most tasteless pink, helium-filled penis-shaped balloons available and a large sign which says, ‘Same Penis Forever’. Well, if that isn’t enough to put you off of marriage forever, I don’t know what will. The image of Hank’s appendage flashes into my mind. I guess if I have to choose only one for the rest of my life, it wouldn’t be the worst-case scenario.

  “Who wants margaritas?” asks Claire, holding up a tray. She turns to look at my shocked face and winks at me. “I’m just serving the drinks, tonight. You’re kidding if I’m going to let a single drop of alcohol past these lips with Ted’s baby inside of me. I’d have the Secret Service battering down the door in seconds, orders of his family.”

  Holly giggles then thinks about it for a second. “They wouldn’t really do that they would they?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time, you should have seen what happened when Claire suggested they have coital relations out of wedlock,” replies Becky, teasing her sister and receiving a pillow to the face for her troubles.

  The doorbell rings. “Oh, that must be our guests.”

  Guests? I was led to believe that this is a quiet night in. I’d planned to get into some comfy pajamas and paint our toenails, wear masks and prepare for Becky’s big day.

  But somehow I’ve managed to forget that with these guys, everything is bigger, better and costs a ton of money. And to prove it, three extremely good-looking gentlemen, each wearing only a bow tie and an apron, strut in, swiftly followed by an army of people carrying food, drink and a whole host of other items.

  This is not the life I expected when I moved here, but I’m happy to partake.

  “Ladies, these gentlemen are our butlers for the evening, they will be serving drinks and your every needs, well within limits.” This isn’t a comfy clothes and ponytail type of event, is it? I’ve totally misjudged the situation. Should have known better than to under-dress with these girls.

  As if the good Lord hears my cry, Jen hands a pair of beautiful pink silk pajamas to each of us girls, personalized with our names on the front and ‘Becky’s Bachelorette’ Emblazoned on the back. “Go get changed, then the fun begins.”

  By the time we’re all downstairs, half-naked men are serving canapés on silver trays, a group of women are setting up temporary pedicure stations and the margaritas are flowing.

  Is this my life now? Despite the warm reception they’ve given me, well most of them, our worlds are still miles apart. I’ve been invited because Hank and I are together, not because I actually belong. Like when you get a backstage pass for a concert and you spend the whole time moving out of the way for roadies and trying to see the artist from the side of the stage. All this privilege and yet you’re not part of the game.

  We sit in two rows, face to face, and get our feet beautified. I’m pretty sure the woman in
charge of mine cringes a little when I pull off my socks. It’s not like I’ve got gnarly nails or bunions or anything like that, but every inch of me hasn’t been creamed and smoothed since birth like the rest of the women. In fact, I spent the first twelve years of my life barefoot and homeschooled. She’ll be earning her money tonight.

  “This is the life,” says Jen as the butler hands her a perfectly cut sandwich and a glass of champagne. “I’d tip him, but I wouldn’t know where to put it.”

  Becky places her hand on her butler’s butt. “I can think of somewhere you can wedge it in.”

  “Becky!” says Claire, outraged. “You’re not supposed to touch.” She has a point. If the guys are doing the same thing with a group of scantily clad ladies at Ted’s house right now, we’d be seriously offended.

  The butler looks down at Becky, raises his eyebrows and bends over in front of her, shoving his butt in her face. “I don’t mind.”

  Claire shakes her head as Becky slips a hundred dollar note in his butt crack and sends him on his way. Oh my god. I was not been expecting this when I was invited.

  “So Jen, how’s it going with Chad?” asks Becky. All four friends have already sat and talked out their differences and indiscretions at a couple’s retreat, as you do. Where I come from Chad would have punched Jonny on the nose and they would never have spoken again, but here, after a cleansing ritual on the beach, a sexual rebirth and an open discussion about boundaries they’ve all decided just to forget about it and move on.

  Chad’s TV show paying everybody handsomely to film the whole shebang probably didn’t hurt. Rich people gotta rich.

  “We’ve decided that we’re not compatible as a couple,” replies Jen, taking a huge bite out of her vegan, gluten-free pastry and then wiping crumbs from her top.

  “So you tried having an actual conversation with him then,” says Becky, snark dripping from her mouth. “Because that’s basically where it all went wrong for me.”