Big Bad Billionaires

by Naughty Aphrodite

  Connor wipes away a single tear as he turns around to face her. Their eyes meet for the first time in two months. Even through his tough exterior, she can see his insides are like a sea thrashing in a storm.

  “Where are you moving?” he asks gently.

  Big hot tears roll down her face. She wipes them away quickly, stands a little taller, and maintains a normal speaking voice. “Chicago.”

  “Why Chicago?”

  “I got a job there. In advertising.”

  He looks down at his feet and smiles. “Good for you,” he says genuinely. He looks back up at her. “Way to go, Samantha.”

  “Yeah.” Samantha searches his face for understanding. “I don’t--” she’s looking for words. “I’m not--” she’s stuck with so much to say and no way to do it.

  “I’m so sorry, Samantha. I never meant for you to get hurt.”

  “Getting hurt is a part of life.”

  “Your cheek looks great. No scar.”

  “Is that the hurt you’re talking about?” she asks in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? Who cares about my face! You ditched me.”

  Connor takes a step forward, and with a raised voice says, “I didn’t ditch you. I was protecting you!”

  “Oh please!” Samantha says with anger, “There were other choices where you could have still protected me from Marla without totally abandoning me. No, what you did was get freaked out and consumed with guilt, and then you left me. Literally in a hospital room.” Samantha takes a step forward and is gesturing strongly with her hands. She has been holding this in for so long, and her face shows it. “Why did you even get out at the hospital? Why didn’t you just slow the car down by the entrance and roll me out?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Samantha.”

  “I AM NOT RIDICULOUS!” she shouts. She takes a breath, and she continues more calmly, “I am not ridiculous. I am bright and focused and funny and I have legs that run all the way down to the floor, Mr. Clark. And I do not deserve to be brushed aside with a chef and some maid service as a consolation prize.”

  “No, you don’t,” he mumbles.

  “What was that?” she prods.

  “I said, no, you don’t,” he says and looks her straight in the eyes.

  They look at each other for several moments. Connor looks like he’s barely holding something in. He continues, “No, you’re right, you don’t deserve this. Any of it. I just don’t know how to fix it. I’ve done the best I can.”

  “Do better,” she commands.

  He looks at her with some surprise, almost delight. After a moment of considering her, he continues, “How can someone so small, so fragile, carry such power? And, such power over me?”

  “What are you talking about? I obviously don’t have any power over you. I can barely get you to talk to me--”

  “I love you, Samantha,” he says, cutting her off. “I love you. I am in love with you. I love you so damn much I can hardly breathe sometimes.”

  Samantha is speechless. He’s never spoken these words.

  Connor continues, “Do you think walking away from you was easy for me?” His words are growing more urgent. He takes another step closer to her, and now they only stand four feet apart. “No! It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. In my life. And remember, I was once married to Marla!” He takes another step. “But you, you are the most amazing, most wondrous thing to happen to me in a long time, and when I saw you lying on the ground, blood spilling out everywhere, and then you lost consciousness,” he closes his eyes with the pain of the memory, “there was a moment when I thought I’d lost you. I thought I had been part of killing you.”

  Samantha finds her voice again, “But you weren’t! Not only was it not your fault, I am still here. I am still alive. That’s because of you.”

  “But, I am the one who led Marla to you in the first place!”

  “Connor, listen to me carefully.” She takes a step toward him, and continues slowly and deliberately, “Marla is mentally ill. She is unstable, violent and, as the police tell me, is now locked away at a very posh mental hospital. Indefinitely.” She takes another step closer, and they are now standing so close another body couldn’t fit between them.

  Connor looks down into her eyes.

  Samantha continues, more quietly now, “This was not your fault. Even with telling her where you were going to be. It was not your fault. It was the work of a madwoman.”

  She searches his eyes.

  “Connor,” she begins and searches for words, then continues softly, “I love you too.”

  His face breaks into disbelief, into gratitude, and finally into abandon. Connor grabs Samantha’s waist and kisses her passionately like he’s starving for her lips. They grab at each other--hands reaching into hair, pulling at the backs of heads, cupping faces, with the moans of desperation spilling out of them. Connor lifts her up, and she wraps her legs around his waist, as he pushes her up against the wall. Fused together, they are a fire reignited and blindingly bright. Long and deep, melting into each other, they finally pull away just enough to look into each other’s eyes. They laugh a little and gaze with awe. It is such a relief to have each other again.

  After a moment, Connor says, “Don’t go. Don’t move two time zones away.”

  “I don’t want to go, Connor,” she says reluctantly, “but it’s also a really good job. And in my field.”

  “So stay. Stay and take a better job.”

  “I already tried to find a job here. It’s just not happening.”

  “Y’know, I happen to have my own advertising department, ” he says with a smirk.

  “I can’t just take a job because I’m your girlfriend.”

  “Then take the job because you’ve earned it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Remember that shoulders ad you made for me? I showed it to my head of advertising.”

  “You what?!” Samantha exclaims.

  “I showed it to her, and I’m not sorry,” he’s beaming now. “She was intrigued and asked to see more. So, I sent her the link to your portfolio.”

  “You didn’t!”

  “Of course I did,” he says proudly. “She saw what I see. Incredible talent and creativity. She said as soon as I’m ready to give up my superstar nanny, she’s ready to hire you.”

  Samantha squeals with glee and then kisses him wildly. They lose themselves in each other. Connor pushes the rope aside and sits her on the table, and they begin peeling each other’s clothes off.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  (One Month Later)

  Samantha drops her keys on the entryway table, puts her briefcase down, and kicks off her heels. She calls up the stairs, “Connor, Arabella, I’m home!” Arabella, followed by her nanny, runs down the stairs and throws herself into Samantha’s arms.

  “What did you bring me!” The little girl is bouncing up and down.

  Samantha reaches into the pocket of her gray pinstripe pants and pulls out a little flower made of paperclips. “For you, my little lovely,” she says with a big smile and hands the flower to the adoring child. “Where’s Daddy?”

  “In the pool,” she replies.

  Samantha ruffles Arabella’s hair and strolls into a nearby room. Connor is swimming laps in an Olympic size indoor pool. Samantha flashes the lights on and off to get his attention. When she has it, he swims to the edge of the pool, gets out, and towels off.

  “How was your day at the office, my love?” he asks and then gives her a kiss.

  “Excellent. I’m learning so much. And they put me in charge of the interns.”

  “Already managing, I see. Your boss better watch out,” he teases.

  “It was great. I’m so excited for these little interns.”

  “Just be sure you don’t get too excited and run off with one of them,” he says with a wink.

  Samantha puts on her dirty little girl face, looks up at Connor and says, “Now why would I go and do something like that, when I have a
big strong daddy waiting for me here at home.”

  Connor pulls her to him, leans her back, and kisses her deeply.

  THE END

  Never Forgotten

  Chapter 1

  “I have to go!” I shouted, pushing the mail back and forth on the counter, looking for the keys. “Why can’t you just put them where they belong?”

  My mom stood in the doorway, her arms folded. Loose strands of hair hung into her face. She was starting to gray but Mama had started to look run down a long time ago.

  “Don’t take that tone with me, Joanna,” she said. “It’s still my car.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her.

  “And this is my job. I have to be on time for us to get out of this dump at all.”

  She didn’t answer me. I finally found the keys.

  “I can only be back by seven, maybe later,” I said. “You’re going to have to take the bus to get Lydia to work.”

  My younger sister was just out of school with a job at the diner. We needed the money. She’d missed a scholarship with two percent but this was life and life sucked. If you let it get you down you would lie on your face forever.

  So far, I was the only one that had made it to college in my family. I had taken it upon myself to care for them. Mama was a nurse, Lydia was a waitress now and as soon as Cindy finished school she would get a job, too. Every bit of money helped but it never seemed enough.

  I was going to make it. I was going to have for us enough.

  “I’m leaving,” I said and walked away.

  I slammed the door on the chaos that dragged me down and walked to the car.

  I’d gotten the job. I was a Legal Assistant. It wasn’t exactly the amazing job as a lawyer that I’d wanted but there was room for growth. If I proved myself to them they would bump me up – it was a promise. And it was a job. It was so much harder to come by a job than I’d ever thought it would be. I’d gotten through college knowing that I wanted to make a difference in the world, only to realize that there weren’t all that many open doors.

  A Legal Assistant was the closest I could find.

  It was good enough for now. I would prove myself. As soon as I had my foot in there I could prove to them I was the lawyer they were looking for and everything would be the way I’d imagined it to be as a child. I would have money. We could get out of the house that had sunken on itself. We could find a new life.

  I got into the car I shared with my mom and turned the key in the ignition. The car coughed and whined.

  “Come on, come on,” I urged. I needed it to start. I couldn’t afford to miss my first day at work.

  The car spluttered to life and I let out the breath I’d been holding. I floored it, pulling the car out of the driveway and out of the neighborhood where I’d grown up. The streets were still empty this early in the morning. It would be a while, still, before the others in our neighborhood crawled out of their holes.

  This was my big break. This was my ticket to a new life. If I worked hard enough I could become one of the best lawyers, I could make partner if I was lucky, I could make sure Mama and my two sisters had a life for themselves. Maybe one day, I wouldn’t have to look after them, anymore. I loved my family and I would do anything for them, but sometimes I felt trapped. If being a Legal Assistant was the first step to winning my freedom, so be it.

  Most women look toward a man for support, for a life they can relax in. Not me. Men were assholes. When I’d been young and stupid, just finishing high school, I had given myself to a boy. He’d been my everything. He’d been wild and free when I’d been trapped in a life that hadn’t suited me. He’d been rebellious when I’d been suffocated by rules. He’d looked at me when no one else would notice me. I’d given my heart to him first, and later, my body.

  And then he’d left. He’d disappeared on me and I’d been left behind with a broken heart and a mouth full of I-told-you-so’s from my mom who had told me he was only after one thing.

  Apparently, I hadn’t been worth much more than sex. He’d taken my virginity and ripped my heart out along with it.

  My dreams of a better life with him at my side had fallen apart. It hadn’t taken me long to put them back together again without him. I could still have a good life. I could still be someone, and I would make sure I didn’t need a man to get there.

  I had one priority in life now: my independence.

  My phone rang just as I got onto the main road that led to town. The screen was cracked, I could only tell the last four letters of the number flashing on the screen but I knew who it was.

  “I’m on my way, Sonya,” I said the moment I answered.

  “Good,” she said, not saying hello either. “I have an errand for you as soon as you get in.”

  Was this how my life was going to be? Was she going to sit on my case even before I reached the office? It was only seven in the morning, for God’s sake.

  I took a deep breath and focused on the road. This was just the first step, I reminded myself. It would get better - we all had to start at the bottom.

  Despite the time, traffic picked up heading into the city. It felt good to be part of the start of rush hour traffic. I felt important. I felt accomplished. I had places to be, too.

  A red light flickered below the gauges and I frowned. That wasn’t good. I wasn’t sure what it meant but it wasn’t good.

  “Not now,” I said to the car. I just had to make it work. I was ten minutes out if traffic played along.

  The traffic slowed to a crawl. Time was against me. I should have left earlier.

  Slowly, smoke started curling from the hood of my car. At first, it was a thin tendril like nothing was wrong. I braked. The car behind me honked its horn so I crept forward again. What was I going to do? I couldn’t be late for this job. I couldn’t lose the only thing I had to hold onto.

  The smoke got worse. I stopped again and switched on my hazard lights. The car behind me honked furiously and tried to get around me, pushing into the traffic in the next lane. There was nothing I could do.

  I pulled the latch to open the hood and got out the car. I found the clip that held the hood in a place even when it was open and lifted it up. Smoke bubbled out from the engine. It smelled like burned oil and despair. I coughed, trying to hold my breath as I put the metal stick in place that held the hood up and stepped back. I turned around, gasping for breath.

  What was I going to do? I knew how to open the hood of a car and that was the extent of my knowledge. Smoke wasn’t good but I didn’t know what it meant. Would it start burning? I didn’t even have anything like an extinguisher at hand.

  I turned around and looked at the traffic. The cars now just merged with the other lane whenever they came close. I fished in my handbag for my phone. I needed to phone someone. But who? I couldn’t just dial nine-one-one – this wasn’t exactly an emergency – and I had no idea who else to call. Mama would do nothing, we had no insurance and I couldn’t see enough in my screen to use the web browser to find a number.

  That, and the fact that I was going to be later than late for the job where the good first impression was so important. I hadn’t even made it to the office yet and I was already giving them a reason to fire me. I leaned against my still-smoking car and dropped my head into my hand, the other crossed over my stomach like I could physically keep myself together. My throat was swelling shut with threatening tears and my tongue was thick when I swallowed. What the hell was I going to do? How much bad luck did one woman deserve in life?

  I took a deep breath and looked up again. I waved at passing cars. If someone would stop and help me I could make a plan. I could try and work my first month and pay for a mechanic with my first paycheck. None of the drivers made eye contact with me. I tried to get one of them to stop but it was like I didn’t exist. I couldn’t jump into traffic to stop them – I was almost sure they would run me down.

  Time ticked on and the cars passed one by one, ignoring me, making the best of one less lane.
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  A roaring sound started up in the distance. It came closer and closer. I looked toward the sound. A man on a motorbike weaved in and out of traffic, driving in between lanes whenever he could. The bike was one of those old-fashioned ones with handle bars almost higher than the driver’s head. He wore sunglasses and a black bandana around his mouth with skull teeth but no helmet. Everything about him screamed trouble.