The Billionaire's Desire

by Lila Lacroix

  Vanessa stopped pacing and said, “Of course I recognize it is a generous offer, but it’s also a pretty big ask. So yes, I would like to take some time. Take a walk or something, I need to think. Is that okay?”

  Her eyes implored him. She struggled with this, which suggested the offer tempted her, but perhaps the morality of the lie troubled her. Her struggle endeared him to her more, almost as much as it made him impatient.

  “Well, of course. But,” he checked his Breitling watch and raised his eyebrows and he asked, “could you return with your decision within the hour?”

  * * *

  Vanessa’s mind whirled with his words, and with the way his mouth moved when he spoke. She walked to the lavatory down the hall, chose a stall, and sat on a toilet seat to deliberate in private. She had spent many a moment deliberating on a toilet seat.

  Ten million dollars buys numerous identities, should I ever need them, and I have a lot of credit card debt from moving around so much. Is it terribly wrong to marry a man for money? What would I tell my mum? How could I make that vow knowing it was a lie? I could stipulate no church, perhaps. I would be helping a very good person to stay in my country; a country where he pays huge taxes. I mean, who would really lose out if I helped him? It’s what they call a victimless crime.

  Vanessa heard a woman enter the bathroom, and listening to her pee just felt weird, and shoved her into action. She would get more details about how it should all work out, and if those answers pleased her, she would accept.

  Back in the reception area, outside Jonathan’s office, Danielle asked Vanessa what had been going on. “Um, nothing. Much.” Vanessa felt guilty, but she signed the confidentiality agreement and could not disclose this enormous experience to her pal. “He’s waiting for me in there, sorry Danny.”

  “Please yourself,” she shrugged, clearly a little miffed.

  With that, Vanessa rushed into Jonathan’s office without so much as a knock, wanting to tell him her decision before she changed her mind, and escape Danielle’s inspection.

  Jonathan was on his cell phone and at first, appeared annoyed at the interruption, shooting her a stern glance. He held up his hand then pointed at the sofa, smiling. “Okay, listen.” he said to whoever was on the other end of his cell phone. “I have to go. Talk to you later.” He hung up and very smoothly approached Vanessa. “You returned, thank you.” He bent forward slightly, his face so close his whiskey breath warmed her cheek. “So? Have you made your decision?”

  Vanessa told herself to be assertive; she would get her answers or refuse him. “No, not quite. I have some questions.”

  Jonathan’s eyebrows rose a little as he straightened up, crossing his arms over his wide chest, “Well, that makes sense I guess.”

  “And I’m sorry about bursting in like that. Danielle … I mean, it was awkward out there.”

  “You told her nothing! The contract states…”

  Vanessa’s spine erected, “Well, of course I didn’t say anything.”

  “No, I know you didn’t. Sorry. Please sit.” Smiling beautifully, he gestured towards the sofa. “Let me answer your questions, smooth out any wrinkles. Sorry, this is just a little bit nerve wracking for me too,” he told her, shooting her a smile that made her want to melt into the couch with him.

  She sat, and the questions lined up in her mind as she tried not to linger on the way Jonathan’s trousers moulded around him as he took the seat next to hers. “Um. Well, I’d like you to explain your plan to me. I assume you have one.”

  “Yes, I am indeed a man with a plan.” That glint in his eyes twinkled again. “My lawyer and I talked at length about how things should go, and we think it should pan out something like this. We start “dating” casually at first, so it looks natural, by having lunch, and perhaps other rendezvous, encouraging any office gossip. Then we formally begin to go out together to nicer places, places we’ll be seen, shortly after that. You understand.”

  Vanessa did understand, guessing she would need a new wardrobe. “Yes, I’ve got it.”

  “Then we’ll take a vacation together,” Jonathan stood and walked casually over to pour himself yet another Scotch. Vanessa wondered if he drank too much, as Mike did, while watching his butt move beneath expensive grey fabric, “making sure everyone knows about it of course, and we’d take lots of pictures while there, that sort of thing. Then I would propose marriage to you, after telling everyone who will listen of my amorous intentions. Soon after that we would get married.”

  He’d got it all worked out, it sounded like a fairy tale, only fake. Vanessa considered the irony. He made it sound like the easiest thing in the world, and like a fun thing to do. As though it were a casual dalliance ending in a bogus wedding; what could be more normal? She smiled inwardly at the thought of the honeymoon … how fake should that be, exactly? Oh, a girl can dream. Then she scolded herself. She had sworn off men. But this wasn’t the same, was it? This wasn’t a real relationship. This would be for money, and not for love. After all, bad things didn’t happen when people weren’t in a real relationship.

  He scoffed, “The headlines will read ‘A Whirlwind Romance between the Millionaire Businessman and his Employee Bride,’” and grinned deliciously.

  Vanessa crossed her legs and asked, “And the divorce. When and how will that pan out?”

  “Ah, yes—the crucial part of the plan. I’m so glad we are as equally bothered about that part. My lawyers would ensure that you receive your salary when it will look like the settlement of an amicable divorce, which I guarantee will happen two years into the marriage. It must last that long to look genuine, I’m afraid.”

  Surprisingly offended at Jonathan’s clear joy at discussing their divorce, before they had even been wed, Vanessa asked, “And the immigration officials? I hear they can be pretty brutal.”

  “Oh no worries there. My lawyers will help us both with the immigration side of things. I mean, we will have to get to know each other quite well, and you will have to move in with me right after we become engaged. ”

  He seemed so relaxed, even excited about the whole thing. However, Vanessa was not sure. It would be so public, at least in Hawaii. What if the holiday snaps, or the newspaper article, somehow revealed her to Mike? He was not one to care about news or gossip magazines, so it would be unlikely, but there was still a chance. A mutual acquaintance might see, it might go viral, anything could happen. She could end up rich for five minutes only to die at the hands of her ex-nut-job.

  She had to be sure. “Sorry Jonathan, thanks for answering my questions, but I’m going to need more time to think this over, on my own. Can I let you know my decision tomorrow?”

  Jonathan’s shoulders rounded, he slumped onto the sofa next to her. “Really? You need more time?” Head tilted, he sighed and appeared downcast.

  “You would rather I made the right decision, wouldn’t you?”

  “Well yes of course I would. No, you’re right.” Standing, he offered her his hand, which Vanessa took to help her up. He ushered her towards the door, as though he wanted her to begin thinking about it straight away. “I will be waiting for that decision, right here, tomorrow morning. Don’t bother returning to your desk though, go straight home. Tell Beth I sent you home.” At the door, he held both her hands in his and leant down to whisper in her ear, “Just remember our agreement. Say nothing of this to anyone.” Looking into her eyes, he added, “Are we clear?”

  Temptation lay behind his penetrating gaze. “Crystal.” She gulped, “See you tomorrow … Jonathan.”

  “I’m looking forward to it, Vanessa.”

  Staring off into space, she chewed on her pencil and thought over the details.

  The money would be nice, but it would mean more than two years of lies, and consume over two years of my life. And what about Mike?

  Her stomach clenched at the idea of alerting him to her whereabouts, after everything she had done to lose him. The fear of her past coming back to shatter her peaceful life,
terrified her. Would this very public affiliation only succeed in leaving her vulnerable to Mike’s vengeance?

  She ate too much pasta, and wrote a pro’s and con’s list. The pro’s won, although she felt ashamed at how seductive the money was to her.

  Greed might end up killing me, she thought.

  The next day, just before lunch, Vanessa’s extension rang. She imagined it would be Danielle asking her about the meeting with Jonathan all over again. She had told her it was a reprimand for spending too much time at her desk, but Danielle wasn’t stupid and didn't believe her. She picked up the phone expecting to defend her excuse yet again, only instead of Danielle’s whining, she heard the delightfully earthy tones of Jonathan Jergen, billionaire boss, and maybe future husband?

  Hello Vanessa, it’s Jonathan. I hoped to have heard from you already. Might we eat lunch together and talk? If you’re not too busy, of course.”

  She forgot he had said he would be waiting there this morning, “Err, oh.” One of Beth’s lap-dogs came over to her desk, so she said, “Lunch sounds great Jonathan. What time?”

  “How about now?”

  “Um,” Vanessa’s immediate thought was whether she packed her lip-gloss, “Yes. Be right up.”

  Beth’s stooge, Helen, said, “You got a guy on the go? It’s not lunch yet, you know. Beth won’t…”

  She annoyed me at the best of times, but I had no time for her tripe, “Jergan, I’m having lunch with Jonathan Jergan, Helen. And at his request. So do be sure to let Beth know that when you tell on me for leaving my desk early.”

  Helen went pale and said nothing except, “But…”

  Vanessa ignored her and semi-jogged to the bathroom. Rummaging through her bag, she found her gloss and comb, and grinned. Just then, the toilet flushed behind her and who should walk out, but Beth. She slammed her hands on her hips. “Ah, you stopped work to see to more important matters, I see.”

  “I did inform Helen of this, knowing she could be relied upon to inform you of my movements.” Vanessa applied a rosy coloured gloss. “I have another meeting with Jonathan, just wanted to make myself presentable. You know, wouldn’t want to let the team down, now would I?” She pinched her cheeks, to add a little rouge and began combing her silk brown hair.

  Beth sneered, “That’s Mr. Jergen to you! Anyway, why’s he need to see you again? You are yet to explain what went on yesterday.”

  Vanessa continued to brush her hair, enjoying the relative power she had gained over this conversation. “Jonathan requested I keep our meetings private, and that you do the same. You are free to ask him to verify that if you wish.”

  Beth’s cheeks burned red as she pushed passed Vanessa, and left quickly without further comment. Vanessa smiled, then threw her head back to apply eye drops, and blinked several times. Her contact lenses tended to dry her eyes out, even in the humidity of Oahu. She smoothed out her suit and blouse, checked herself in the mirror, and inhaled. “It’s time.”

  On her way through the office, Vanessa noticed that Beth was deep in conversation with Helen and several of her colleagues, all of whom stared at her as she walked over to Jonathan’s office.

  The gossip has started already; Jonathan will be pleased, thought Vanessa.

  * * *

  Back in Jonathan’s office, Vanessa sat on the cool leather sofa with her palms together in her lap, preparing to tell him the good news.

  Jonathan murmured softly into his cell phone again, so that she couldn’t hear, no doubt. She had no interest in his business dealings anyway, and her head buzzed too much with the situation between them to care about his phone calls.

  Finally, the call ended and Jonathan turned to face Vanessa with a nervous smile on his clean-shaven, golden brown face. “I ordered Chinese. Well I got Danielle to fetch us some from a little place I know. I hope that’s okay. She seemed to think so.”

  Vanessa didn’t like Danielle sharing information about her with her boss. But she did like that Jonathan at least enquired as to her favoured cuisine before ordering it. She also wondered if he maintained the permatan with spray or bulb before realizing that here it may very well just be all natural, and said, “That will be fine, thank you.”

  “Good, there is coffee in the pot or I can send out for something—“

  Vanessa interrupted, “Coffee is perfect, thanks.” She noticed his demeanour: somewhat nervous, awkward, unlike his usual confident stance. He needed her to say yes. She felt good in this unusual position of power. First Beth, and now the billionaire himself. It was so not her normal position in life. But Vanessa knew her refusal would mean little more than an inconvenience to him. There would be others ready to bite his hand off for such a chance, but this chance was hers, not theirs. Greed or not, danger be damned, she would take it.

  After a knock at the door wrenched Vanessa back to reality, Danielle followed the sweet and sour aroma of Chinese food into Jonathan’s room, placed the boxes on his bureau and asked, “Will that be all, Sir?”

  He actually shooed her out of the room, “No interruptions, remember that please.”

  Vanessa felt sorry for poor Danielle, being shooed like a stray cat, although she did appear used to it. “Very good Sir,” she replied, nonplussed by his condescension. Vanessa knew Jonathan Jergen had a reputation as being a bit of a hardass, but she hadn’t really seen it in action.

  Just as Danielle went to close the door on her way out of his office, she caught Vanessa’s eye and winked. She knew her cheek twitched, fighting to grin. But she refused it, and looked away.

  Vanessa felt odd, as though she knew she was about to sell her soul to the devil. But of course, only three of them knew of the arrangement: Jonathan, his lawyer, and Vanessa.

  “Come on over here. Don't make me eat all of this alone. There’s enough salt in this lot to sink a ship.”

  “Oh, you make it sound so appetising.” Vanessa smiled, joining him.

  They sat on his bureau and ate the food. Lemon chicken, sweet and sour pork, with egg fried rice and noodles on the side. Nice. After a few awkward glances, Jonathan asked “So, will you put me out of my misery or keep me hanging?”

  Vanessa choked a little on a noodle, which she had half swallowed. After a few glugs of his water, Vanessa straightened up and said, “Well, I have been thinking about it and I’m still a little wowed by it all. I mean my colleagues already think something’s going on and I’m not sure I like the attention. How will I be when word gets out that we’re a couple?”

  “Just think of the huge difference in your bank balance, that should help some,” said Jonathan. “I’ll make this whole thing fun for both of us. It’s not going to be a prison sentence.”

  “Good to know.” Vanessa smiled to herself, imagining anything but a prison sentence, wishing her fear of Mike didn’t have to ruin all her fun.

  He laughed absentmindedly, which was infectious. It felt good to laugh along with him, especially under the circumstances. He relaxed, seemed easier. It made Vanessa relax too.

  “Do you have folks?” Vanessa asked, wondering who created such a man.

  “Don't we all?” he said, shrugging. “Even me.”

  “They must be real proud of you, huh?”

  “I guess.” He looked down, stabbed the rice with his chopsticks. “So, what about your folks?”

  Our knees touched, and a spark at the point of contact made her move enough to slide off the bureau, “Err, oh just my mum.” Vanessa put down my fork and smoothed out her skirt. “Dad went when I was young.”

  “He went or he died?” he asked

  Vanessa sighed, feeling exposed, “Same difference.”

  “Ah.” he said. “So, did you catch the game last night?”

  Their gaze met and they both burst into laughter.

  After their conversation declined into silliness for a while longer, and they had cleared away their food cartons, Vanessa watched him pour them more coffee while recounting the events of last weekend, when he attended a theater p
roduction. He laughed about the main character and his horrendous acting debut, about the watered down Champagne without bubbles, and the five-course meal he ate afterwards, which made him feel decidedly queasy. He said he much preferred a night in watching motor racing with his butler, Charles (whose real name was Eric). His whole demeanour changed so much from the day before, and as a result, so had hers.

  We’re just two twenty somethings having lunch, enjoying a chat and a giggle. Well ok, maybe he’s early thirty something, but still.

  It felt … kind of like a date. And well, she enjoyed it. And despite Jonathan being a scarily powerful and frustratingly attractive man, he was okay too. He was right; it would be fun, not like a prison sentence at all.

  The excitement got the better of her. “I’ll do it,” she said, interrupting him mid-flow. “But I have conditions.”

  His smile swallowed up his perfect features for a moment of pure bliss on her part, and he said, “You will. Superb.” He moved close to her, arms out. She could have sworn he was about to pick her up and swing her about, but when he reached her, he stopped and ran his fingers through his thick, dark waves instead. “Ah, you have conditions. I know I can meet them. Tell me.”

  “Well, I will not entertain the ‘media circus’ scenario. We can pull this off without being in all the papers and magazines.”

  “Any particular reason why?”

  “Privacy, pride, humanity, decency? Isn’t that enough?”

  “Oh, all right.” He raised his hands. “I get it, you’re not a lover of the whole reality TV. But I wouldn’t quite go that far. Just a mention in the social pages. It would be expected of someone in my position.”

  “Just a mention, like one line on a middle page, no pictures?”

  “Okay, no pictures. Promise.”

  “Good. Then my second condition is” could she get away with this one? “…a new car. Mine is on its last legs and I want something I can rely on for a change.” She chewed her lip.