Billionaire Bachelor

by Ali Parker

  On second thought, I snatched it up and put it away in the glove compartment. It could charge at the apartment. If I saw it beep or flash at all during the drive home, I’d be liable to run the car off the road in a desperate attempt to see if it was Andrew getting in touch.

  The silence in my apartment was so loud, it rang, doing a full circle and becoming a sound in its own right. I dropped my keys on the kitchen counter, and the little clink they made on the laminate countertop made my skin crawl.

  With movements that seemed too loud, I set my yoga mat down and slipped out of my shoes, plugged my phone in to charge, and poured a glass of water.

  At the point where the living room met the kitchen, I did a full three-sixty, taking in the tiny apartment. When I’d first moved into the space, I relished the spot. It was far away from my parents, just as my mother complained—something I liked.

  Now, though, it felt too removed from the outside world. For the first time, my seclusion didn’t feel like a good thing.

  The painting Andrew had sent still leaned against the wall, right where I’d left it. It would have to go up sooner or later, but I hadn’t gotten the time. Plus, I liked looking at it as I left it. Each time my eyes fell on it resting on the floor, some of the joy and surprise from the day I received it came back.

  Crossing back over the carpet, I gently ran my palm across the top of the canvas, making sure not to touch the paint. My insides were still jumping with nerves, and the location of my cell phone had nudged its way to the forefront of my brain.

  Was it too soon to text him again?

  Did that even matter?

  No, I decided. I was an adult. I got to do whatever the hell I wanted, and I wasn’t into playing those cat-and-mouse relationship games.

  Snatching up my phone from the charger, I sent a quick text Andrew’s way.

  I keep thinking about next weekend. Can’t wait.

  For good measure, I added an emoji with heart eyes.

  Not wanting to drive myself crazy waiting for a response, I put the phone back down and hopped into the shower. The second I got out, though, I was back in the living room, towel around my chest.

  Neither can I, Andrew had written back.

  Smiling to myself, I brought the phone into my bedroom and hurriedly dressed. With short-shorts and a loose T-shirt on, I settled cross-legged on the bed and composed what, at that moment, felt like my magnum opus.

  I hate that it’s a whole six days away.

  Thinking on that, I decided to add a little something extra.

  I wish you had stayed last night.

  Pressing send, I snatched up a pillow and buried my face in it. Not only did I feel like a high school girl texting her crush, but I was also acting like one as well.

  Next to me, the phone buzzed with a fresh text. Holding my breath, I peeked at the screen.

  That would have been amazing. I woke up this morning wishing the same thing. Maybe we’ll get our chance soon.

  My pulse pounded as I wrote back. No more second-guessing myself. Andrew had just made it very clear he had no problems whatsoever with a little flirtatious texting.

  It’s good that we can do whatever we want…

  The ellipsis was very intentional, of course. I wanted to see where he would take that statement.

  Like what? Andrew asked.

  Like you can come over here whenever you want, I answered. Even right now, if you wanted to.

  My stomach did cartwheels, backflips, forward flips, maybe even a few side twists, as I waited for his next text.

  Is that an invitation?

  “Yes,” I said out loud.

  I had to be smoother with the written word, though. The invitation is always open.

  This time, there was no immediate response. A few minutes passed. Had I said the wrong thing?

  My phone buzzed.

  You have no idea how badly I want to come over there right now, but I shouldn’t. What are you doing tomorrow night, though? I can’t wait until Saturday to see you.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” I whispered as I texted, Absolutely free.

  I’ll pick you up at six, Andrew wrote.

  Perfect, I shot back.

  Not wanting to touch a conversation that could now only go downhill, I put the phone away and dropped back onto the mattress. From across the parking lot, traffic distantly hummed. Someone shouted, and a dog barked. Far away, sirens blared. They were all the usual noises of my world.

  But everything was different.

  18

  Andrew

  Monday afternoon, I scanned the front of the school, hoping I didn’t come across as creepy as I felt. It wasn’t like I was performing a general sweep. There was only one person I looked for. A short glance at her, and I would be happy. One smile from those lips and I could make it the next three hours.

  The passenger’s side door of the Maserati opened, startling me. Raven dropped her backpack on the floor and scooted into her seat.

  “How was school?” I asked.

  The parking attendant waved, signaling that I should pull out of the lot. No Lanie fix for me, after all. I would have to wait a few hours more.

  “Are you picking me up every day now?” Raven asked.

  I gave her a long look as we stopped at the exit of the parking lot. She had her hair piled on her head, and there was a splash of blue paint on her neck. I thought about pointing that out but decided against it. She looked cute.

  “You had art today?”

  “You can’t answer a question with another question.”

  “You just did,” I pointed out.

  “Hm,” she answered, trying to hide her smile.

  “I’ll pick you up when I can. If you want me to,” I added.

  “Sure.”

  “Cool.”

  We drove in silence for a few minutes, my mind’s wheels spinning. I’d have to tell Raven I was going out that night. Though I’d told her about the date the other night, she hadn’t pushed to know who I was spending time with.

  “What do you think of Miss Jacobs?” I asked.

  Raven took a long time answering, so long I started to squirm in my seat.

  “I like her,” she finally answered.

  “Yeah. She’s nice.”

  “She’s, like, the only person at school who doesn’t think I’m screwed up.”

  The honesty surprised me, and for a second, I didn’t know what to say.

  “Raven,” I finally managed. “You’re not messed up. I’m sorry some people think that.”

  She shrugged.

  “I’m trying to do better.” My throat closed tight, making it impossible to say anything more.

  I felt Raven’s eyes searching me and glanced over to find her wearing a thoughtful look. “I know. And you are.”

  Just like with the honesty, the sweetness blindsided me.

  Raven flipped through a notebook she’d pulled from her backpack. “She seems to like you too,” she nonchalantly added, face still down.

  “What?”

  “Yeah.” Her cool gaze turned to mine. “She has a crush on you. It’s pretty obvious.”

  I snorted. “When have you even—”

  “She couldn’t stop staring at you at that gallery, Dad, and you couldn’t stop staring at her either.”

  “Huh.” I nodded, thinking about that some. “So I guess we’re both pretty hot commodities now, huh?”

  As expected, her face wrinkled. “What’s-His-Name is okay.”

  Right. Raven had worn a constant blush the day before at the country club. She more than remembered Zach’s name.

  As more silence passed, I mulled over how so much had changed so quickly. For years, Raven and I had been stagnant. I’d tethered us to a particular way of life ten years ago, never allowing us to move on fully. Once I decided to let the unexpected happen, the floodgates opened. We were both not only moving forward, but we were also, quite suddenly, living big.

  “I’m going out tonight,” I said, turni
ng onto our street. “But Karen is staying till seven. Will you be all right?”

  I half-expected her to snap at me, pointing out that I’d left her alone a thousand evenings in the past, but she smiled knowingly. “Okay.”

  “What’s that tone of voice for?” I laughed.

  “You have a date. I get it.”

  “Is that okay?” Again, talking became hard. This could quickly evolve into a conversation about Raven’s mother, and I wasn’t sure I was prepared for that. Soon but not at that very moment.

  “It’s fine with me. I’d much rather you date Miss Jacobs than some old lady.”

  “What?” I guffawed. “You think I would go out with a senior citizen or something?”

  “No, I just mean, like, I don’t know.” She looked away. I waited for her to go on as we pulled into the drive, but she didn’t.

  “Like what?”

  “It’s better than you dating, you know, someone …” Her eyes raked over me, gaze loaded.

  “Someone what?” Realization swept over me. “You mean someone my age?”

  “Yeah,” she timidly answered.

  “Whaaat? Raven, I’m not that old.”

  “Okay, Dad. Whatever you say.” Grabbing her backpack, she hauled butt out of the car.

  Inside, I took my time getting ready, taking a long shower and dressing in T-shirt and jeans, the kind of outfit I hardly ever wore. Tonight felt different, though, and I wanted everything about the evening to reflect the fresh start.

  When Lanie had texted me the night before, I nearly lost my mind. It took everything in me to not jump in my car and tear rubber to her apartment. It had been late, though. Karen was gone, and I couldn’t leave a sleeping Raven alone, not without telling her I was heading out first.

  I’d briefly thought about inviting Lanie over, fantasizing as I was about getting her naked body between my sheets, but then decided against it. We would be quiet, but there would still be the chance Raven would wake up. Having her find her school counselor in our house in the middle of the night without any preface would be equitable to shooting myself in the foot.

  Needing to kill some time before six, I went to my office to finish up the day’s work. A quick check-in with the building downtown showed that things were running smoothly without me, maybe even better with me gone.

  Over the last week, I’d noticed a change in more people than just me and Raven. With my chokehold at work loosening, my staff had seemed happier, more relaxed. And as productive as they ever were.

  If I’d know that backing off a little bit would prove so fruitful, I would have done it years before.

  When the emails were all written, and my knee was jiggling in anticipation, I said goodbye to Karen and Raven—making a point not to acknowledge their knowing looks—and left.

  I could have driven to Lanie’s apartment with my eyes closed. It didn’t matter that I’d only been there a couple of times. My mind had already programmed every possible route to her door into its database.

  With dusk covering the apartment complex, I reminded myself to keep breathing and knocked.

  The door flew open almost immediately, exposing Lanie in a pleated skirt and tight blouse. The form-fitting top revealed she was slightly curvier than I’d thought. Gulping, I quickly forced my gaze to return to her face.

  Her own brown eyes were big. “You’re wearing a T-shirt.”

  “Yeah.” I looked down at my attire, almost unable to believe it myself.

  “You look good.” She licked her lips, and I had to suppress a groan.

  Think of something else. Think of something else.

  “Did you get the painting up yet?”

  “Oh. Not yet.”

  “Mind if I take a look.” I nodded past her shoulder, and she quickly stepped aside so I could enter.

  The apartment was quaint, with very little clutter, a loaded bookcase, and flowers on the kitchen counter. I couldn’t have imagined a better habitat for Lanie.

  “I haven’t had time yet,” she explained as I went over to the painting leaning against the wall.

  “Do you have nails and a hammer? We can put it up now.”

  “Oh!” She nodded. “Yeah. One second.”

  She vanished down the hallway, and I took the time to inspect the room further. Soft pillows and a knitted blanket covered the couch. It was just wide enough for Lanie to lay down on it with me pressed against her, locking her in place, taking her lips with mine.

  “Here you go.”

  I’d been so absorbed in the fantasy, I hadn’t heard her enter the room. “Thanks,” I mumbled, avoiding her eyes as I took the offered materials.

  She stood behind me as I hammered, her gaze firm against my back. In a matter of minutes, the painting was up. Taking a few steps back, I stood next to Lanie and silently inspected it.

  “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

  “Yeah.” My attention wasn’t on the art anymore, though. Instead, I was more interested in watching Lanie. Her face was soft, lips carrying the slightest trace of a smile as her eyes soaked in the painting.

  Gently setting the hammer on the coffee table, I let my hands do what they wanted. Pulling Lanie to me, I covered her mouth with my own. Her weight collapsed against me, hands going to the back of my head and twisting through my hair. There was a hunger to her kiss that there hadn’t been the other night. Instead of satiating my longing, it only increased it.

  Knowing I had to break away before I deterred from my original plans, I dropped my hands and stepped back.

  “Let’s get to dinner,” I softly said.

  In my peripheral vision, the couch called, a reminder that it had been made exclusively for Lanie and me.

  She nibbled on her bottom lip, and this time, I didn’t try to hide my guttural groan.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s.”

  Soon, I promised myself. Before the end of the night, Lanie would be mine. For as long as I’d waited, though, a few more hours wouldn’t hurt. In fact, they would only make the inevitable that much better.

  19

  Lanie

  Desire was pain.

  At least, it had suddenly become that way. I’d never before experienced the things Andrew made me. With him, every experience was unknown. My body tingled, itched, and ached in extraordinary ways. Every time he glanced at me, my heart fluttered.

  Rolling up to the parking lot of a small restaurant, he opened my door as he always did and then held my hand for the walk inside. The place was low-key but also a hot spot. I’d never been to it before, but I recognized the name. Potted plants covered the circular layout, and the staff all wore black vests. The host escorted us to a small table in a corner. Instead of taking the seat on the other side of the table, Andrew ignored where the host had put his menu and settled in right next to me.

  His knee brushed against mine, and I sucked in a breath. Why had I let him take me out of my apartment? Screw dinner. We could have had boxed mac n’ cheese for all I cared. Or nothing at all. My appetite had up and vanished the second Andrew knocked on my front door, and I didn’t think it would be back for quite a while.

  “How was your day?” Andrew leaned in close, gaze simmering with heat. If I read him right, the kiss in my living room was also still on his mind.

  “Really good.” I folded my hands on the table. “I think I made a friend today.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “With the art teacher.” I nodded. “She’s cool. It’s refreshing. Most of the other staff is ...” I searched for a nice way to put it. Other than with Principal Stafford, I hadn’t really felt welcomed at the high school.

  “Basic?” Andrew offered.

  I laughed. “That’s not a very nice way to put it.”

  “I don’t know these people, so I can say that.” Wearing a mischievous grin, he picked up his menu.

  I followed suit but could hardly focus on the words. The letters all swam in front of my eyes, and when the waiter came back over, I ended up ask
ing him to bring me whatever the best special was.

  “I’ll have that too,” Andrew said.

  The waiter nodded and left. My date turned back to me. With the soft lighting in the restaurant, the perfection of his features was only accentuated. Reaching across the small space, Andrew took my hand in his.

  With his fingers lightly rubbing over the top of my hand, my head spun. I did my best to focus on his face and not black out from desire.

  “How is Raven?” I asked.

  His face lit up. “Good. I think she’s been acting like a normal petulant teen and not a troubled one, or at least I hope.”

  I laughed at that. “That’s really good to hear. There haven’t been any disruptions at school.” Realizing what was happening, I wrinkled my nose. “Sorry. This isn’t a parent-teacher conference.”

  “No, it’s all right.” He smiled. “We talked about you a little bit earlier.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I cocked my head, genuinely interested. How much did Raven know about her father and me?

  “She told me her guidance counselor has a pretty obvious crush on me.”

  My cheeks flamed. “Busted.”

  Andrew just grinned wider. His hand was still on mine, warming my palm considerably. I never wanted him to let it go. “To be fair, she also let me know that my affections are just as obvious.”

  “She doesn’t miss much, I guess.”

  “Apparently not.”

  His gaze intensified, throwing another log on the fire between my legs. I resisted the urge to squirm in my seat. Where the hell was our food?

  “Has it been a while since we ordered?” I asked.

  Andrew frowned. “It’s been about five minutes.”

  “Oh. It feels like longer.”

  His loud inhale caressed my ears. “We can get it to go.”

  I studied his face. “Really?”

  In response, he flipped my hand over, letting it rest in his palm as his free fingers trailed up the length of my arm. Euphoric shivers danced up my arm and filled the rest of my body.

  “Okay,” I exhaled.

  Leaving my hand, Andrew raised his arm to catch our waiter’s attention.