Romancing The Billionaire: The Complete Story

by Olivia Wilson

  My father’s name is not, nor has ever been Maximilian. It’s Max, as it was at birth. It’s not short for anything. But for some reason my mother always insists on calling him Maximilian, regardless of how ridiculous it sounds. What always surprised me is how she never realised what a mouthful it was. Maximilian and Marcella Montgomery. It has a certain ring to it I suppose, perhaps that’s why she liked it. I remember as child how much he liked to call her Marcy, and how much she detested it. He trained himself over the years not to say it. But I could always tell how difficult it was for him when we had guests, or at functions not to blurt it out by accident. It was clear then, just how different they were.

  ‘Well I will leave you to it then father,’ I say as my mother perches herself on to the corner of his desk. Beginning one by one, to tug at the fingers of her long white gloves.

  ‘Are you sure Crawford?’

  ‘Oh you’re not going are you darling?’ She slips her hand out of her right glove, and placing it with the other one. Slaps them both into her left hand.

  ‘I’m sure I’ll speak to you later Mother.’

  She smiles in response and pushes her cheek out allowing me to plant a kiss on the side. ‘Of course darling, I will call you,’ she says.

  Heading for the door, I notice Ashby looking somewhat awkward in the corner. ‘Perhaps you’d like to wait outside Ashby? I’m sure my Mother won’t keep my Father too long, will you?’ I glance back at her.

  ‘Ashby?’ My mother’s ears prick up. ‘Ashby Talbot?’

  ‘Yes that’s right,’ he replies with the same giddy enthusiasm he was showing early.

  ‘Why I haven't seen you in what seems like an age. Tell me, how is your mother and father?’ She moves her arm up, flicking her hand and resting her gloves on her shoulder.

  ‘They're well thank you Mrs Montgomery.’

  ‘Good, good. I do so miss Alistair and Genevieve. I just don’t get the time to keep in touch with people as much as I should,’ leaning back onto the desk, she gives a wistful look into the distance.

  ‘I’ll send them your regards Mrs Montgomery,’ says Ashby.

  ‘Yes please do.’

  ‘I hope you all enjoy your day,’ opening the office door, I step outside and notice Christa looking downhearted at her desk. ‘Cheer up Christa; I’m sure it can’t be that bad.’

  ‘I’m sorry Mr Montgomery. I just feel so bad about earlier. Your father must be so angry with me,’ she says with tears forming in her eyes.

  ‘I doubt it; you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s not part of your job to fend off my mother. I can think of few people, who would be capable of such a task,’ I laugh and a smile comes to her lips. ‘You have nothing to worry about with my father in that respect,’ reaching into my pocket, I pull a handkerchief out and pass it to her. ‘Here you go, dry your eyes.’

  ‘Thank you Mr Montgomery. There’s a lucky lady out there somewhere right now.’

  ‘Well perhaps you could tell her that. As I’m trying to convince one of that at the moment, but I’m not sure she believes me,’ I smile and can see that she is cheering up a bit.

  ‘You mean you don’t have a significant other?’ Christa looks surprised.

  ‘Not yet, but as I say, I’m working on it. Is that so strange?’

  ‘Mr. Montgomery, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to speak out of line. But who, given the chance, wouldn't jump at the opportunity of being with you. You look like a male model. With that face, and thick blonde hair. Not to mention the way designer suits look like they're made for you,’ her eyes stretch wider with every word.

  ‘Well in fairness Christa, a designer does make my suits for me. But don’t let that stop you,’ I laugh.

  ‘Until today, I thought you’d be arrogant, but you’re not and quite that hue of green in your eyes is enough to make any woman…’ she slows down. ‘Oh Mr Montgomery, I’m so sorry, what must you think of me?’

  ‘I’ve not been missing anything I hope,’ Ashby appears through the doors.

  ‘Not at all, Christa and I were just talking. Have you decided to wait out here for my father?’

  ‘Yes I thought it might be best. I could do with a coffee though,’ Ashby runs his fingers over the newspapers on the small table in the middle of the room. Selecting a paper, he sits down. ‘Two sugars and easy on the milk,’ he says without looking up as he begins to read.

  ‘The lady has a name Ashby, it’s Christa, and I’m sure you could find it within yourself to use the word please if you try. If you are going to be spending more time in this building. It would serve you well to realise that employees are not treated like that here. Something you should be grateful for, as you're hoping to become one. Perhaps a little professional courtesy to one of your colleagues is in order Ashby?’

  ‘Quite, I do apologise Christa. If you could see your way to providing me with a cup of coffee. I would appreciate it,’ placing his paper down he stands and moves towards her desk. ‘Furthermore, perhaps you might let me make it up to you over dinner.’

  ‘I think I’ll just settle for the apology thanks,’ Christa says causing me to smile to myself. Ashby sits back down and I head towards the lift. As the doors shut, I think about what Christa said. She was right to a degree; I’ve never had any problems getting attention from women before, why is this one so different. She’s shown little interest so far and wasn't impressed by my dancing skills. I’m hoping the flowers may help. I think I’ll leave it a couple of days before getting in touch, or might send another gift first; I’ll see how it goes.

  The lift dings open again and I stride back across the marble floor to the large double doors, and out onto the street. Outside I see the same red convertible I saw on my way in, and am sure now that it was the one outside my father’s house the other evening. There’s a man sitting up against it this time. His black shirt's undone a quarter of the way down his tanned chest and talking to an attractive blonde woman. He runs his hands through his thick, black hair and hands her what I suspect is a phone number. I wait until she’s a few paces down the street before going over. Removing his mobile phone from his pocket, he flicks it open, as I am just close enough behind him to hear his conversation.

  ‘Hello baby,’ he begins ‘No I’m not ignoring your calls; I’ve been busy in a boardroom meeting. I’ll have the money soon I promise, of course I love you.’

  I’m on him. Grabbing him by the shoulders, I spin him around and slam him into the door of the car. Both my hands taking hold of the front of his knocked-off designer shirt.

  ‘What the hell man?’ he shouts as he loses grip of his phone and it crashes to the floor, smashing into two.

  ‘Shut up and listen to me, I know your game and it stops here, do you understand me?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about man. Look what you did to my phone.’

  ‘Whatever you have going on here, whatever little swindle your running. Leave my mother out of it, do you hear me?’ I scrunch my fists into the front of his shirt.

  ‘Your mother?’

  ‘Yes Marcella. You’re going to stay away from her from now on.’

  ‘You’re scrunching up my shirt,’ he says trying to wriggle out of my grip.

  ‘Do you understand me?’ I hold him firmer.

  ‘Yes, OK I understand.’

  ‘You’re going to stay away from her,’ I put my hand into my pocket and pull my wallet out. ‘And you’re going to be nice about it, is that clear?’ I begin to count out some money from my wallet.

  ‘Yeah man, of course. I can do nice,’ his eyes are on the money.

  ‘Get yourself a new phone, and shirt if necessary. I don’t want to see you around here again,’ I push the notes into his chest and he closes his hand around them.

  ‘Sure thing man, no problem,’ he glances down at the money in his hand and rushes into his car. Starting the engine up he speeds off own the road.

  Chapter 10

  Her

  Beep-beep. Beep-beep.


  Opening my eyes, I reach over to turn the alarm clock off. Six-fifteen, time to get up. Poking my feet outside the covers, I slip them into my fluffy pink boot slippers at the side of my bed. Dad must be up already as I can hear the sound of the TV as I make my way down the stairs.

  ‘Someone’s up with the lark’ I say pushing the living room door open.

  He’s looking over the contents of the family photo box again. At the history of our lives - mine, his and mums. All spread out on the table before him.

  ‘How long have you been up looking at these Dad?’ I ask sitting myself down next to him.

  ‘Not long. Look at your mother here! This is the day we all went to Blackpool, isn't she beautiful?’ he picks a photo up to show me.

  ‘Yes she is dad. I’m getting myself a cup of tea, do you want one?’ Standing up I wait for his reply.

  ‘No dear, I’m fine for now thank you,’ he says without looking away from the photos.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Go on then, I will have one.’

  ‘Okey dokey,’ I say as I make my way from the room to get the tea.

  As I’m making the drinks, I do remember Blackpool; I remember it well in fact. It was my first trip to the seaside, and I had one of those little fishing nets attached to the end of a long stick. I don’t think I managed to catch anything with it though.

  ***

  My morning today was turning into chaos. There’s a problem with the temperature gauge on our shower, so my day starts with a cold shower. Then I spill coffee on my work shirt just before I’m about to leave, which of course leads to me missing my bus. Due to the disruption caused by local roadworks, there no possibility of another one for at least half an hour. Leaving me with no option other than a hectic run to work. By the time I get there, I’m in no mood for silliness.

  ‘Amy?’ Richard looks up from his broom whilst sweeping the exterior of the shop.

  ‘Yes Richard. Good morning to you too,’ I say placing my hand on the door handle.

  ‘Sorry Amy, it’s just that I’m confused to see you,’ his broom standing upright, he rests his hands on the end of the handle.

  ‘Why? I do work here.’

  ‘Well you’re a bit early.’

  ‘Right, okay. I’m not in the mood for this, so would appreciate it if you told me right away what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Well you’re on the afternoon shift today, so you don’t start until lunchtime.’

  ‘What? Since when?’

  ‘Gloria swapped your shifts yesterday. She called and left a message with your dad I think, didn’t you get it?’

  I cast my mind back to this morning. Dad and I always leave messages on a board in the kitchen next to the phone. With everything that went on this morning, I forgot to check it.

  ‘I thought that was you,’ Gloria’s says pushing the door open. ‘I don’t know what you’re doing here but it’s great timing. Come in, there’s someone here for you.’

  Inside I see everyone's too transfixed with a man at the counter to notice the fact that I have arrived for work three hours early.

  ‘I wonder what it will be this time,’ Gloria says as Laura is standing by the counter looking excited.

  ‘Are you Amy Smith,’ the man says to me as I reach the counter.

  ‘Yes I am why? Oh wait don’t tell me; you have a present for me.’

  ‘Yes I do Madame,’ he places little black case he’s holding onto the table.

  Unclipping the clasps on either side, he opens the top and reaches inside. Lifting out a rectangular, black, velvet box, he places it on the counter before me.

  ‘What’s that?’ I stare at him, as everyone else around me is staring at the box.

  ‘It’s a gift for you Madam.’

  ‘Open it Amy for crying out loud,’ Laura sounds as though she is about to burst.

  Reaching out, I put my fingers on the box to and flick it open with my thumbs. Everybody gasps as their eyes lay on the small gold diamante bracelet inside.

  Bob at the bar, one of our regulars lets out a big whistle. ‘Those are some rocks there princess.’

  ‘I’m sure they’re diamante, or cubic zirconia perhaps Bob,’ I place my hand on my hips and try to sound as though I know what I’m talking about.

  ‘Madam, if I might be so bold. These are genuine diamonds. I can provide a certificate of authenticity should you need it,’ the suited man tilts his head back and folds his hands on top of one another.

  I notice a small white card inside of the box, the familiar handwriting in black ink say’s two words:

  Say yes…

  ‘That won’t be necessary; it doesn’t make any odds to me anyway. But I’d like the contact details for the person who ordered these please?’

  ‘I am sorry madam, but is against our policy to give the order details,’ he gives an apologetic smile.

  ‘Well, it’s against my policy then to sign your delivery note.’

  ‘I'm afraid it was disappointment to my client if you didn’t except delivery,’ he’s trying to reason with me. I don't feel reasonable.

  ‘I never said anything about not accepting delivery; you’ve already delivered it to me. I said I won’t sign your delivery note. I'm sure your client will be far more unimpressed if you return with no gift and no receipt of delivery either. In fact, I bet he’d be quite suspicious in fact.’

  ‘Why madam you can’t refuse to sign.’

  ‘Oh but I can and I am. Unless of course you want to rethink your policy?’

  Everyone is on baited breath watching our standoff.

  ‘Madam I’m sorry, I can't.’

  ‘We are in a tricky situation then aren’t we? I tell you what, why don't you give me that delivery note to sign, and why don’t you just happen to leave the order form underneath. If I then I just so happen to see it, then that fixes everything doesn’t it?’

  The stuffy, suited man waits before passing the delivery note. Flicking the corner at the top, I make a mental note of the name and address behind it. Signing the note, I hand the man his paperwork back.

  ‘Thank you, madam,’ the man says bowing his head before he turns to leave.

  ‘So Gloria, as far as you’re concerned I’m not working yet am I?’

  ‘Not for another three hours or so doll. Why, you got to go somewhere?’

  ‘Yep. I’m taking a present back,’ flicking the box shut, I snatch it from the table and march out of the shop as Laura stares at me open mouthed.

  Chapter 11

  Him

  Sitting at my desk I'm trying to figure out why my phone's refusing to communicate with my tablet today. When I hear a commotion on the other side of my office door. Before I have the chance to stand up and investigate, the door flies open.

  ‘Mr Montgomery. I'm sorry, I couldn't stop her. She insisted on just barging through,’ my secretary rushes in behind Amy Smith.

  ‘It's okay Joanna thank you,’ standing up from behind my desk, I hold my hand up to reassure her.

  ‘Are you sure, because I was about to call security,’ Joanne motions towards her phone.

  ‘That won’t be necessary thank you Joanna. Miss Smith, if you'd like to take a seat.’

  ‘Oh so it's Miss Smith now is it?’

  ‘Sorry, Amy, if you’d prefer.’

  ‘No Miss Smith is fine thank you,’ she cast’s an eye around my office.

  ‘Miss Smith it is then. How may I help you this afternoon?’ I ease myself back down into my chair.

  ‘I've come to return something of yours.’

  ‘Have you, what?’

  ‘This.’ she slams a rectangular black velvet box on the table. ‘I believe it belongs to you.’

  ‘And I believe it was a gift.’

  ‘I don't care. I don't want it and if you think that you can buy me, then you’re mistaken. That might work on your other women, but it won’t work on me.’

  ‘My other women?’ I laugh. ‘Look, I didn't mean to offend you, I jus
t thought it would look nice on you, and dare I say, I thought you might like it.’

  ‘Well I've said all I need to say. I've returned your property, goodbye,’ turning on her heel she makes for the door.

  Before I know it, I’m jumping out of my seat to chase after her.

  ‘Amy, wait!’ I call out, hot on her heels.

  ‘I have nothing further to say to you,’ she doesn’t even turn her head as she presses the button to the lift.

  It opens straight away and she walks inside.

  ‘Amy listen, whilst you’re here let's talk. Have a coffee maybe?’ I lean in around the doors to the lift, as Joanna staring at me from her desk.

  ‘I'm not interested in any of that thank you,’ Amy pushes the button to go down.

  The lift dings and the doors begin to slide. To Joanna’s shock, I rush to jump inside before they close.

  ‘Going down are you?’ I say.

  ‘Yes thank you, I have already pressed the button. You may have noticed that as you leapt into the lift,’ a subtle smile touches her lips.

  The lift reaches the bottom and shudders as it does so. The doors go to open, but instead just make a little cranking noise.

  ‘Oh dear,’ I say staring at the ceiling.

  ‘What?’ Amy looks at the door.

  ‘It’s OK, calm down. It looks as though the doors have jammed, that’s all. You’re not claustrophobic are you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Suffer from anxiety?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Is there anywhere you need to be?’

  ‘No I don’t start work for a couple of hours.’

  ‘Well I’m sure you’ll be out of here by then. We just need to wait for someone to release the doors. It’s not dangerous and shouldn’t take long.’

  ‘You are kidding me?’ I'm not keen on spending time alone in a lift with a self-entitled obnoxious businessman,’ she huffs.

  ‘This might not be too enjoyable for you then,’ I chuckle to myself as she cuts me a sharp glare. ‘Oh come on, lighten up. You may as well make yourself comfortable.’ I loosen my tie and undo the top button of my shirt. Taking my jacket off I lay it down flat on the floor of the lift. ‘Lady, if you’d like to sit down,’ I extend my arm towards my jacket.