A Billionaire With Benefits

by Lena Skye

  “I can tell.”

  “How?”

  “Because you looked uncomfortable while I was looking at you.”

  “Oh damn, please don’t tell me you like stalking people you don’t know.”

  “You flatter yourself too much,” he said with a smile.

  “Are you from here? Your accent’s kind of off.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Off?”

  “Not quite American.”

  “Where do you think I’m from?”

  “London or something.”

  “I have lived a few miles out of London,” he replied.

  “So that explains the posh accent. Damn, I sound so posh saying the word posh.” She laughed nervously and he half-liked it, and half-disliked it.

  “I noticed you haven’t been drinking.”

  “I’m bad at drinking.”

  “How so?”

  “Like two glasses of wine and I’m kaput.” She laughed with a brilliant smile.

  He found himself smiling at her candidness and he enjoyed her smile. It was a dazzling smile, something he had probably dreamt of before. It seemed like she was a genuine person, like most were when you met them, especially when they knew who he was. He observed that she didn’t know him.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Mikaela. Mikaela Johnson,” she replied. “You?”

  He surmised she was partially educated in college. She had a typical accent, one that was quite American and her speech pattern suggested her educational background as well.

  “Justin. Justin Henderson. Pleasure to meet you,” he said, extending his hand.

  She looked at it, quite confused. Then she slowly held out her hand and he took it and gave a gentle kiss, one that almost touched her skin but it didn’t. It sent shivers down her spine for reasons unknown.

  “Are you with the bank?” she asked quickly, as he stood straight.

  “No,” he replied, “I was just lucky to be invited.”

  “So am I,” she said with a laugh.

  “How so?” he asked her.

  “Well, you see that girl wearing gold?”

  She looks like a walking sequin party, he thought. “Yes.”

  “Well, she works in the bank, the Malibu branch. She’s an account agent and one of my closest friends.”

  “And she would be?”

  “Oh, her name? It’s Lynne, Lynne Young,” she replied. Then she realized that this certain Justin Henderson could be interested in Lynne, and he had probably seen them together earlier and wanted to be introduced through her. She suddenly felt bad about it. So it was for Lynne all along? She was foolish to even think he would be remotely interested in her. He was too good-looking for her, wasn’t he?

  “Ah.” It was all he said about Lynne Young. He didn’t find her remotely interesting. She was too pale and had too much makeup on and she looked just a tad bit tacky. He had thought the dress would have looked better on Mikaela instead of her. But the blue dress was great on this Mikaela Johnson. “So what do you do?” he asked her.

  “Uhm,” she looked shy at first. “Well, I’ve been a barista for a couple of years now.”

  “Barista?” he paused. Was she the barista with the sincere grin from three days ago? She was, wasn’t she? Who could forget that smile? He certainly didn’t. He didn’t tell her this though, content on letting the conversation run naturally without the possible “oh my god, really?” interruptions that came out of women’s mouths.

  She paused momentarily, wondering if he had begun to size her whole character just by her job. She didn’t belong here, she knew that, but maybe, just maybe, she looked the part?

  “Yeah, barista,” she continued, “At Uncommon Grounds.”

  He smiled. “Never heard of it.”

  That’s probably ‘cause you have coffee in hotels, or you travel to some random coffee country for it, she thought wryly. “Well, you should. We’ve got good coffee.”

  “Not the best coffee, though?”

  “I think it is.”

  “How would you know? You’ve never been outside of California, I guess?” he teased.

  She found him annoying all of a sudden, his good looks overtaken by his obnoxious personality. “I’ve been to Washington, thank you very much,” she said acidly.

  He gave an easy smirk. “I was joking, you know.”

  “We just met, how the shit am I supposed to know you’re joking?”

  “Do you always curse?”

  “I have a dirty mouth,” she replied, her lips pursing.

  Dirty mouth. He almost laughed aloud, wanting to say some crude joke about her dirty mouth. This wasn’t the place for it, he reminded himself. “Really?”

  “Not like that!” she immediately said, reddening. “Whatever disgusting things you’re thinkin’ ‘bout.”

  “So, tell me about yourself.”

  “Are you from HR? Is this a job interview of sorts?” she asked suspiciously.

  “No, I’m just curious about you.”

  “Why would you be? There are tons of other people here.”

  “They don’t interest me at the moment. You interest me. You’re alone and pretending you’re all right about it.”

  “And you’re a shrink now?”

  He smiled. “I can sometimes act like one. That’s what years of work does to you.”

  “I’m no shrink and I’ve been working for years.”

  “It must be a job that isn’t for you,” he told her.

  She paused. A job that wasn’t for her? She suited in fine, customers liked her, her fellow coworkers liked her, and she made great coffee-based drinks. What else could she do, aside from hold on to that dream of studying nursing? Then maybe, just maybe, she could finally get that degree she’d always wanted.

  She shrugged. “I like my job a lot.”

  “Can you imagine serving coffee for the rest of your life?”

  She could and she nodded. “I guess I could. It has a very nice aroma.”

  “That doesn’t sound much like growth. Why don’t you make your own café instead?”

  “Maybe that’s why I’m here, so I can fish for a loan or something,” she joked.

  He didn’t laugh. That was the first thing she noticed about him. He would smile, he would chuckle, but he never laughed outright. Maybe he was the serious, businessman type. Lynne wasn’t this serious nor were her coworkers.

  “Oh my god, are you a loan shark?” she asked, her eyes widening.

  His brows rose. “Do I look the part?”

  “Well, we can’t ever tell.”

  “Unfortunately, I’m not. I’m just your average entrepreneur that works a lot. Like a lot.”

  She found him charming again. She thought that was the thing about this businessmen, they had some ace up their sleeve. Just when you’d think they were assholes, they’d turn out to do some charity work or shit like that.

  “Justin, hi,” a woman interrupted them, stepping in front of Mikaela.

  Mikaela found herself rolling her eyes. Damned people had no manners nowadays. Couldn’t she see they were having an “interesting conversation”?

  “Hi,” Justin began, wondering who the woman was. He hoped he hadn’t slept with her or taken her out to a date or something in one of those rare, spontaneous drunken nights. She didn’t look familiar.

  “We were introduced last week at Malibu Sunset,” she tried to remind him, referring to a recently opened high end bar.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, how are you?” he asked, still not knowing who the woman was.

  “I’m all right—” she began.

  “That’s great, but I’m still talking to my date here,” he said smoothly. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  The woman gave Mikaela dagger looks, while Mikaela stood expressionless. She didn’t quite get what was going on. She had wanted to leave, but the moment Justin Henderson said he was talking to his date, she stopped. That date would be her. Duh.

  “Why, I—” and the
woman said nothing more, as Justin held out his arm for Mikaela to take.

  She stared at it for a full three seconds, realization dawning that he wanted to get far away from the intrusive woman as soon as possible. She took his arm, still unsure of where this was going, but fully sure that she wanted to stay away from that trespasser. There was this sudden urge of selfishness, and she wanted to keep him for herself.

  “Who was that?” Mikaela whispered, as soon as they were out of earshot.

  “Some woman whose name I forgot. One of my friends introduced us and I disliked her immediately,” he told her.

  Wow. He wasn’t one to mince words, was he? She began to feel flattered that he was comfortable with her. There must be a reason why he stuck to her all this time, when he could have just about any other female in the room, dressed much better, and looking much better too.

  “Are you sure you’re fine walking around with me?” she found herself asking.

  “If I wasn’t, would I have asked for your hand over my arm?” he responded.

  She forced herself to hide her smile. She hadn’t been this flattered before. It was actually a nice feeling, done by a nice-looking guy. Nice-looking guy was an understatement—he was gorgeous, but she wouldn’t say this aloud or show him how she found him attractive in the least. Although, she could tell he had quite an ego.

  They headed out to the balcony where they had a good view of the beach. The noise had significantly faded from where they stood. It was dark and she could only see a few feet into the beach. They heard waves crash on the shore.

  It was a cold night, and she did her best not to shiver. She hadn’t worn a bra because she had thought the dress’s material would be thick enough. She hoped her chest peepers wouldn’t show. She began to get conscious about it when he took off his coat and placed it on her shoulders.

  “Thanks,” she said, looking up, surprised.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “You live anywhere near here?”

  “I’m actually based in L.A.,” he replied. “I just travel here for work every few weeks.”

  “I like it here better than L.A.,” Mikaela said.

  “I like it better here too. And the beaches have a lovely sunset.”

  “What about England?” she asked.

  “What about it?”

  “The beaches there?” she prodded.

  “Oh. It’s cold. Good for cryogenics this time of year.”

  She looked a bit blank. Cryogenics. Where did she hear that… Ah, she had read it in one of those medical textbooks a few months back. He saw her face dawning with realization and he was glad he didn’t have to explain that. His pet peeve were stupid people and he hoped she wasn’t entirely hopeless.

  There was a moment of silence, and he seemed comfortable in it. She didn’t say anything; he might have been thinking of something important. Then he cleared his throat.

  “So, I think this is an excellent time to ask for your number.”

  Was the how he asked women for their numbers? Really? Just like that? “What for? I’m not connected to the bank.”

  “Oh, I’m not after anything business related.” So she was playing hard to get? He almost smirked.

  “You want coffee?” she grinned.

  “If it’s made by you, I would prefer that. Has anyone told you that you have a lovely smile?”

  She found her cheeks warming up and she was glad that the veranda was lit with bonfires, casting strange shadows on their faces, instead of light showing off her blushing.

  “I’ve heard people tell me that. Must be ‘cause my skin is dark so my teeth glow,” she laughed.

  “Don’t put yourself down. You do have a lovely smile. It reminds me of Julia Roberts in a way.”

  She wanted to squirm in delight. She had been complimented about her smile before, but this was something different. He was different. Psshh, what was so different about him? He could have been any other customer on any ordinary day. But here was a guy, a handsome one, in a suit with a sexy accent, and the attention was solely on her. Of course she felt glee.

  This was one night where she suddenly felt really beautiful. The heels must’ve done their work. The dress had done its trick. Those awkward hours of practicing makeup morphed her into someone worthy to be in the event.

  “So, is that a yes for your number?” he nudged on.

  She smiled at him coyly, wondering if this was really something serious. “You can have any girl’s number inside that party, yet you’re out here, talking to a barista.”

  “I happen to find this barista fascinating.” His eyes were dark, like some smoldering secret was waiting to be let out.

  He held out his phone for her to take. “You can put a fake one or you can put your real number in.”

  She took the phone from his hand, their fingers touching and she felt a frisson of excitement steal through her. She was going way too ahead of herself. She didn’t want to look giddy. No guy wanted to date an easily-excited woman.

  She slowly pressed the keyboard, punching her number in. She gave away her real number and hoped he wasn’t joking about this. She would feel like a complete idiot if he was just doing this for a joke. His jokes weren’t too obvious, she recalled earlier. He wasn’t so good at jokes.

  She gave him his phone back. Only numbers were there, she didn’t put her name. Did he even remember it? “So what do your family and friends call you?” he asked. “Mika? Kaela? Mik? Sounds like a guy, Mik. I hope it’s not Mik.”

  “People actually call me by my full name. Just Mikaela.”

  “It does have a better ring to it.”

  So he remembered her name. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? She felt herself smile, but she didn’t smile too widely, for fear she would look too eager again.

  “So, I wondered,” Justin began.

  “Mikaela! Mikaela Johnson!” someone called out.

  They both looked sideways to see Lynne Young, standing beside a pillar, the sounds coming from the party had begun to get louder. Her hair was still perfectly coiffed and her lipstick had faded a little under the lights, but she was sober and in high spirits.

  “There you are! I was looking everywhere for you,” she said, walking for their direction. “And here I thought you snagged a guy—Mr. Henderson?” she gasped. “Sir, good evening. How are you doing? I didn’t think you’d be here. Mr. Smith mentioned you earlier.”

  “Well, here I am,” he said to her.

  Mikaela saw Lynne’s smile as she walked closer.

  “It’s best we get going,” Lynne told Mikaela, grabbing her hand and eyeing the enigmatic Mr. Justin Henderson. She had heard many stories about him as one of their most valued clients, from his playboy ways to his ruthlessness in business deals. She had seen him from afar twice, but up close, he was a powerful man, with keen eyes and a jawline that could cut through butter…

  “I guess we have to go,” Mikaela said, trying to sound cheery. She didn’t want the night to end too soon.

  “Do you women need a ride?”

  “We’re good, thank you Mr. Henderson.”

  “Have a pleasant night,” he told them.

  He didn’t call them girls. It was women. He didn’t refer to females as girls. It was always women. He saw them as equals, didn’t he? She saw the look on his face. It didn’t express disappointment over her leaving. It was calm and collected. Mikaela didn’t look back. She didn’t want him to see her face. She felt like it was her first date in high school and she was in high spirits but she didn’t want it to show.

  She checked her phone. It was past ten in the evening and her shift started at six in the morning. Good thing Lynne wasn’t drunk or she didn’t snag a guy to take her home. She’d have been stranded, then she could have asked Justin for a ride… She shook her head and sighed, hoping Lynne didn’t hear.

  As she and Lynne drove home, Mikaela received a text from Justin.

  “Is it him?” Lynne asked, stopping for a red light.

&
nbsp; “Mmhmm.”

  “I knew it. He liked you,” Lynne said excitedly. “Did he ask you out already?”

  “For dinner, tomorrow.”

  “Say yes.”

  “I just met the guy,” Mikaela scoffed.

  “You don’t know who he is?” Lynne gasped. “I can’t believe you don’t.”

  “Uh, earth to Lynne, I don’t work in a bank. And if he’s no athlete or actor or something, I wouldn’t know him.”

  “Well, Justin Henderson is a steel honcho. He’s worth billions, not kidding,” Lynne told her. “His company makes and supplies like sixty percent of all the steel in the world. His account is a bit disappointing with us, we’ve been trying to bump it up to at least thirty million dollars from a measly twenty.”

  Measley? Jesus, how much was he really worth, anyway? She had assumed he was just another of those businessmen with their usual quirks and personalities, but suddenly, he had even more reason to have that ego. Billions of dough wasn’t built on niceties, it was built on ego.

  “So why are you still thinking twice about saying yes?” Lynne continued, “It’s just dinner, my dear Mikaela.”

  “I don’t know the guy.”

  “Some of us do.”

  “Not personally. He seems like an asshole.”

  “Sweetie, people like that are always assholes. It’s just a matter of handling the assholes the way they should be handled. Why do you think I’m in this industry?” Lynne grinned as she drove down the street. “I say, give him a chance.”

  “Too late. I said no,” Mikael told her.

  “Oh you shouldn’t have. That’s a way to nursing school. He could get you connections, a scholarship!”

  Mikaela sighed. A scholarship would be great. She wasn’t a genius or anything, but she graduated seventh in her high school class with sheer determination and wit.

  “Oh my god,” Lynne said, “you’re totally playing hard to get.”

  “I am not.”

  “Yes you are. You haven’t had a date in years. Why are you doing this to yourself? He’s like the best potential date ever. He gave you the time of the day; two weeks ago he was dating some other model, and now he chooses you.”

  Mikaela shook her head. “I’m giving it time. It could fizzle out in a heartbeat.”