Romance: The Billionaire's Demands

by Jodi Cooper

  Or maybe he just had a charming demeanor towards everyone.

  The head chef and boss mentioned it was odd that he always requested my dessert, but they always obliged a high-paying customer like Bradley.

  Each time he came into the restaurant again, the rest of the night I would struggle to stop thinking about him.

  My hands would shake endlessly and I couldn’t think straight.

  I wanted no part of the marriage chase, but he had done something to me.

  He had control over me.

  Chapter 5

  “What’s gotten into you lately, babe?” Jim asked as I climbed into his busted-up car after work.

  I shrugged and he looked at me with his head cocked, as if waiting for a better answer.

  I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek to distract him. It worked, and he turned his focus to his steering wheel. I cranked up the radio and sank back into the seat with my eyes closed.

  It was nice to sit down for a bit after such a long day. My back and feet often ached from sweating in the kitchen all night.

  We weren’t dating but we were close friends. I did ask Jim out on a date before but he said it wasn’t the right time for him. And that was fine with me.

  Jim and I met on an online dating site a month ago when I had first come to L.A. He was my first real friend before I had met Anne and Brianna at my new job. He didn’t mind sitting in my apartment when it didn’t have any furniture in it and when I didn’t have cable television or snacks to offer him.

  I didn’t have any money to go out, so we mostly stayed in and played cards.

  Working so much meant that it was hard to get out and meet anyone nice, and my boss didn’t really encourage us to flirt with the patrons at the restaurant before Bradley, not even the single ones.

  I was really no good at picking good guys, and Jim was no exception.

  He bored me with his endless explanations of science fiction characters, as if he thought I would ever find any of that interesting. He had gone so far as to ask me to learn how to play some lame card game that he had collected in high school.

  The worst part was his wandering eye, particularly for girls that barely looked of age.

  The best thing I could say about Jim was that if we ever agreed to date, he probably wouldn’t cheat on me with my best friend like my last boyfriend had.

  Jim was so average and shy that no girls had ever even noticed his advances, much less taken an interest in him.

  “Can you just give me a ride home tonight?” I opened my eyes, reached over, and squeezed his hand for full effect.

  The past few weeks, I had been going back to his place to hang out after work or he had been coming back to mine to keep me company.

  My apartment was painfully lonely, and I was still struggling to get over my ex-boyfriend, Shawn.

  Jim let out a loud sigh, but I knew he would never be pushy toward me. And being wimpy wasn’t that attractive either.

  He turned the car around and headed back to my place at my request. I was glad that he didn’t protest too much at my need for being alone.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come up?” he asked as we pulled up in front of my place.

  He took off his seatbelt and turned to face me like he was going in for a kiss.

  Immediately I moved to block his efforts. I shook my head, kissed his cheek, then opened the car door and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

  “It’s okay... I will see you tomorrow after work.”

  I watched him as he drove off, thinking he was probably disappointed.

  I could tell that Jim liked me quite a lot, and that made me feel really bad.

  This was one of the worst rebound boyfriends that I had ever had, and I was really starting to wonder why I was even bothering with him.

  He was sapping what little energy I had left.

  I climbed the three flights of stairs into my apartment. Walking in, I noticed one of the blankets had fallen down – I had blankets and towels covering the windows because I didn’t even have enough money for curtains.

  Even though I had placed a lot of scented candles throughout the place, the place still really smelled like mildew. I was sure the cockroaches came out of the moldings to play with my belongings while I was away.

  “You’re quite the watchdog, Jack.” I found my little black-and-white Jack Russell puppy sleeping underneath my bed.

  He had separation anxiety and often hid there when the other dogs in the building would start to bark. My handbag was tossed on the bed and I started to remove the smelly restaurant clothes that clung to my figure.

  The hamper was full so I threw my dirty clothes over in the corner of the room. Sighing, I realized another trip to the Laundromat was needed.

  But where would I find the time?

  Or the energy?

  The warm spray of the shower eased the aches and pains in my body.

  A nice warm bubble bath would be magic to climb into, but mine was the only apartment in the building that didn’t have a tub.

  No one tells you that if you drop out of college, you’ll be ending up in a rathole like this and working in a job as an underpaid chef in a high-priced restaurant.

  As I toweled off, I saw the newspaper from this morning still spread out on the table. I was looking for a real job, but I dreaded leaving the restaurant because I liked the people that I worked with there.

  It was like a huge family, and I had finally started to feel like I belonged somewhere, even if the pay stank.

  And all I had to do was make it one year there and I could work anywhere.

  My plan was to survive a year, then become a chef on the yachts of the rich and famous over the summer months, and study my butt off during the winter.

  That plan was the only thing to get me out of bed some days.

  Throwing on my sweatpants, I watched reruns of old television comedies, hoping something might make me laugh and distract me from all this.

  None of the jokes did.

  They were sad old lines that I had heard a thousand times before.

  Sigh.

  KNOCK. KNOCK.

  Damn.

  Am I late on my rent payments again?

  Oh man.

  That means I have to climb off my comfortable couch.

  Oh wait.

  Why would the landlord be knocking on my door at this time at night?

  That mustn’t be my landlord.

  Maybe it’s Jim.

  Of course, it’s Jim.

  He wants what he can’t have.

  I sighed again, heaved my body off the couch, and flung the door open.

  “Uh? You’re not Jim.”

  Chapter 6

  The man standing in front of me wasn’t Jim.

  Nope. He definitely wasn’t Jim.

  Standing in front of me was an older man dressed in a tight suit, standing tall and elegant.

  I had seen him before.

  “Miss.”

  Bradley’s limousine driver…

  He stood in front of me bearing three dozen red roses and an elegant card covered in gold foil.

  Still holding the roses and their enormous crystal vase, he handed the card over to me, encouraging me to open it right away.

  Nervously opening the card, I pulled out its contents.

  It appeared to be an invitation addressed directly to me.

  The driver could clearly see that I was puzzled.

  “Mr. Bradley is requesting your presence,” the limousine driver said in a cordial tone.

  “When?” I asked him.

  I was a bit embarrassed to be standing at the door in my sweatpants and cartoon slippers.

  My hair was still dripping wet and wrapped in a towel, which was fashioned like a turban.

  “He is waiting for you as we speak, miss.”

  I looked around my empty apartment.

  It wasn’t like I had anywhere important to be – but I resented being beckoned like some cheap help.
/>   Not that it was any different from being a chef.

  But what would I wear? I had only done my laundry at the Laundromat a few times since I had moved in a month ago. Surely none of my nice clothes were clean.

  “Well, mister,” I said to him, not sure of his real name. “I’m gonna have to pass on this one.”

  I didn’t really relish going out tonight, so I wasn’t going to.

  Even if it was for a billionaire.

  I saw a frown tugging at the driver’s face, but he accepted my answer and made a move to leave.

  Before he started back down the many flights of stairs, he bent down and set the three dozen roses on the floor.

  I tried to object to him leaving them with me, but he ignored me and left.

  Surely Bradley had many more women he could give these flowers to.

  Who does that anyway? Who sends their driver to a woman’s place to ask her out?

  What does he think I am?

  Some sort of dog that’s just waiting for his next command?

  Sigh.

  Men.

  After I closed the door of my apartment and poured a bowl of cereal, I noticed that Jim had sent a text asking if he could come over to cuddle and watch a movie.

  I was feeling pretty vulnerable after the invitation from Bradley, but I was afraid Jim would be suspicious of the roses.

  I didn’t know why I cared about that, but I did.

  Before he showed up to watch a superhero movie, I visited old Ms. Smith downstairs and hand-delivered the huge vase to her. The woman was hugging me and crying so hard, you’d think she’d never gotten flowers before.

  At least I had done one good deed today.

  Chapter 7

  “He came to your house?!”

  I nodded in return to Brianna’s excitement. “Yep.”

  “And you turned him down?”

  “Yep.”

  “So you could have a bowl of cereal?”

  “Yes.”

  Brianna stood with her mouth wide open, staring at me in disbelief.

  “No way,” Anne said over my shoulder while I made another dessert. “No way.”

  “You don’t have to believe me but it’s true,” I dismissed her rejection of my story.

  “Jasmine is not one to tell lies,” Brianna added in my defense.

  They both stared at me while I worked, unable to take their eyes off me.

  “What?”

  They shook their heads in unison. It was obviously a disappointed shake.

  It was only ten minutes after their disappointment that I was surprised again.

  “He’s back,” one of the waitresses whispered as she came in to collect some more plates.

  “Who?” I pretended not to know.

  “You know who. Your lover boy.”

  Great.

  Just what I needed.

  Every staff member in this place now knew my story from last night. Rumors traveled fast in L.A. There were no secrets here.

  He ordered the same again, and again, asking for me specifically to make his dessert.

  I was beginning to think this was getting a little creepy.

  The door flung open again.

  It was him.

  There was no mistaking it.

  Bradley Clifford.

  The presence that he projected when he entered a room was overpowering.

  His was a dominant soul.

  “Her,” Bradley said to the head chef while pointing at him. “I need to talk to her.”

  “Of… of course, sir,” the head chef stammered. What a wimp. “Jasmine?”

  He looked over to me but Bradley did not.

  “Would you please talk to Mr. Clifford in my office?”

  Sigh.

  I am nothing but a piece of meat to him.

  A conquest.

  I quietly walked into the room, and the tall, well-dressed man followed.

  “Don’t worry,” he stated as he closed the door to the office, “you don’t have to say anything.”

  As I stood across from him with my arms folded across my chest, I felt my heart skip a beat.

  He was good-looking.

  Unbelievably good-looking.

  Half of me wanted to run out of the room, away from his alluring charm, and the other half wanted to jump into his limousine and ride off into the sunset with him. I sure had some wild imagination.

  I didn’t know what else to say, so I responded by thanking him.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  “What for?”

  “For the roses.”

  Who I am kidding? He probably didn’t even know the driver brought roses up to my apartment last night. Bradley probably just asked him to invite me out.

  He smiled. “No problem.”

  I felt quite embarrassed by his advances. I wasn’t a model. Men like him don’t chase girls like me.

  When I looked across to the window of the office, all of my coworkers were trying to peer in the small gaps in the curtain.

  I realized at that moment that I had a hopeless crush on Bradley.

  The last time I felt this way was back in high school when Justin Atkins took me to the prom. I started to play scenes over in my mind, rehearsing what I would say if he asked me out on a date.

  I couldn’t imagine dating a billionaire.

  He was so far out of my league. I tried to dream up all of the opportunities that might open up to me, all of the places we might go together, and all of the things that he would buy me. I imagined a huge wedding with this amazing and elegant wedding dress that would be tailored especially for me. We would throw the biggest party and invite all the wealthiest and most famous people.

  But his next question jolted me back down to earth.

  “I am having a dinner party Saturday evening. I need you to make dessert for, and serve, my guests. You will be well paid for the trouble. Your boss is catering the party, but I told him I wanted to ask for your services myself.”

  He smiled at me and waited for a response.

  Boy did that come out of nowhere.

  I was a bit surprised at the odd request, to say the least. I wasn’t even a waitress but he wanted me to serve his guests? Wow. That’s out there.

  I couldn’t give him an answer at first.

  I mean, I needed the money. I definitely needed the money.

  But it felt awkward.

  It wasn’t every day that an ordinary girl was hired to work under a billionaire’s roof, serving his company. I imagined all those snobby people looking down their noses at me in my waitress outfit as I brought food out to the dining table.

  That was the kind of job that would make you really realize how much your dull life sucked.

  “Could you please give me some time to think about it?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Give me your response when you decide. You know where to find me.”

  With that, he laid his business card on the table. He put on his black hat and his overcoat, and left the restaurant with his driver and expensive limousine.

  “Oh my!” Brianna squealed as I walked into the kitchen. “Did he ask you out on a date, Jasmine?”

  “Hardly… It isn’t what you think, Brianna.”

  I was sure that it was a good job opportunity. Working for a billionaire seemed to be a dream for everyone in the building except me.

  At first, I had wondered whether Bradley was truly flirting with me and trying to ask me out, but by his last request, I had obviously read the signs all wrong. I really was a foolish girl in a fantasy world.

  Of course Bradley didn’t like me that way.

  How could he? I wasn’t wearing a bikini, and I wasn’t a six-foot-tall blonde.

  I wasn’t sure if that made him a douche, or made me one.

  I thought about throwing his business card out with the leftovers from the night, but then I reconsidered and tucked it safely in my pocket.

  Maybe I could think about it…

  Chapter 8

  Th
e rain was pouring as I was driving home that night. A couple of drops were blowing through the gap in the driver’s side window.

  I really have to get that fixed.

  Then the car started pulling to the left.

  Oh no.

  Then the left side of the car started bumping up and down as I drove.

  Damn.

  My car got a flat tire right in the middle of the busy L.A. traffic.

  Because I didn’t know how to change a tire and couldn’t flag down anyone that was willing to help, I tried to call Jim.

  He said he was busy getting his cat groomed.

  Great. Thanks, Mr. Reliable.

  As I was on the cell phone, a car came through and splashed a puddle of mud onto my new skirt. Even better. I had forgotten my umbrella, so I guessed maybe the bright side was that the rain would maybe wash the mud off by itself.

  I had to call a tow truck for the car, and a taxicab for myself to get to the auto repair shop. Once I got there, this grease-ball behind the counter asked for a large ransom to put a new tire on my car and pay the tow fees. It took him hours to change my tire because it was fourth in line. I tried to busy myself while I waited for my car by looking at my online dating app on my iPhone, but there were no new messages.

  Sigh.

  The membership was a waste of $30. I was utterly discouraged by the time I got back to my apartment. Due to the setback, I realized that there was no way I would be able to meet my rent this month if I didn’t take Bradley’s gig.

  Once I got my car out, I had to go home and get my clothes to take them to the Laundromat. I hated pulling my hampers down three flights of stairs and through the parking garage to my car.

  I checked again, and the on-site washer and dryer both had “Out of Order” signs on them. It seemed like they were eternally broken. I had wished I’d thought of this before I signed my crummy lease.

  Next time I would have to choose much wiser.

  There were some creepy characters at the Laundromat. One of them didn’t seem to even have any clothing that he was washing or drying there. I imagined maybe he was some sort of criminal. I saw a couple of homeless guys trying to get in out of the rain and swapping each other food for cigarettes. One of them smiled at me with his toothless grin when I pulled my hamper through the door, and it sent shivers down my spine.