The Billionaire From New York City

by Simply BWWM

  The inside of the hotel was no less impressive, with the hardwood floors and the antique metalwork and gilt. Brianna hurried through, feeling something like an impostor, and found her way to the bar she was supposed to be meeting Ethan at; the wood-framed glass doors opened into a small, intimate room, one wall dominated by the famous, instantly recognizable King Cole mural. The room was small enough that Brianna spotted Ethan almost immediately, seated in a leather chair at one of the little tables, waiting for her.

  “I took the liberty of ordering something for you,” Ethan said as soon as Brianna approached. She glanced at the table and saw that, sure enough, there were two glasses on it: one in front of the chair that Ethan had risen from to kiss her quickly on the lips, and the other in front of what would be her seat. Her cocktail glass had an almost-clear, faintly yellow-amber drink in it—not so clear that she thought it would be a martini, but enough so that she had to wonder just how strong it was.

  “What did you order me?”

  “It’s called an Astor Midnight,” Ethan said. “It is very strong, so definitely sip it.” Brianna chuckled.

  “I had gathered that much,” she told him playfully. She lifted the glass carefully—cautious not to spill—and raised it so that Ethan could give her a perfunctory toast. Brianna sipped the concoction and underneath the strong taste of alcohol, flavors of lemon, blueberry, and lavender spread across her tongue and around her mouth, carried by fine bubbles. It was just sweet enough to counteract the sharpness of the liquor, and balanced enough to be dangerous.

  “Wow,” Brianna said, swallowing it almost reluctantly. She could see how easy it would be—if the drink were not obviously extremely expensive—to have one after the other, not quite realizing how strong each one was, until she was absolutely on-her-ass drunk. “That is kind of amazing, actually.”

  “I’ve heard very good things about it,” Ethan said with a self-satisfied smile. “I got a Maxfield Parrish for myself.” He sipped his drink and the smile deepened. “I thought it would be a nice way to start the evening.” He settled himself in his chair and glanced around the room.

  “What is on the agenda for tonight? You still haven’t told me,” Brianna said, giving him a slightly petulant look. Ethan snorted.

  “That look doesn’t work on me, Bri,” he told her, wagging his finger in pretend reproof. “But since we’re about to be underway anyway, I might as well tell you where our next stop is.” He set his glass down and held her gaze for a moment. “We’re going to the Apollo. They have a tribute to Nina Simone going on tonight.”

  Brianna stared at Ethan in delighted shock; she’d never even considered the possibility that he knew how much she liked Nina Simone—even though she’d occasionally hummed a few lines, or would idly sing a few lyrics as she was getting dressed after one of their trysts.

  “Really?” Ethan nodded.

  “But that’s all the information you’re getting for now,” he said, putting on a firm expression. “I want the rest of the night to be a surprise.” Brianna rolled her eyes but she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t delighted. She picked up her drink and took another sip, reveling in the excitement of what Ethan had planned for them. After three months, she had thought that things would slow down between them—that they’d end up spending more time just having sex or maybe dinner and sex—but Ethan seemed determined to show her every last corner of Manhattan, and do every last thing that they could do together.

  “You know, it occurs to me that we’ve never gone out to Brooklyn together,” Brianna pointed out.

  “There’s too much to see in Manhattan,” Ethan countered. Brianna pinned him down with a confident stare.

  “Or are you afraid of slumming it a bit?” Ethan snorted.

  “Brooklyn isn’t slumming it,” he said dismissively. “Now, if you wanted to go into Jersey—that would be slumming it. And I would question your taste and sanity both.” Brianna laughed.

  “I don’t really have any idea why I’d want to go to Jersey, anyway,” she said with a shrug.

  “Some people slum it out there—go to the clubs, or to the shore in the summer.” Ethan shrugged. “For my money, there are better beaches around here—and even better ones down in Jamaica and the Dominican Republic.”

  “Of course you just go to the beach in Jamaica,” Brianna said, rolling her eyes with a little smile. “We’re a good two seasons away from that even being a question, anyway.”

  “Well, if we’re still together two seasons from now,” Ethan said, “then I will be happy to take you on a shopping trip for resort-wear, and two or three great bathing suits, and we’ll book a trip.”

  Brianna sipped her drink and decided to change the subject; while she was more comfortable in her relationship with Ethan than she’d been in the first two months of their arrangement, she still wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about their relationship—or what it might become. She was happy to just stay in the exciting phase, where it was all sex and nights out and sneaky trips around the city during work-hours, covered by “meetings” on their schedules.

  They finished their drinks, chatting about their work, and then it was time to go; Brianna’s driver was done for the night, so she and Ethan sat in the back seat of his hired car as his driver took them twenty minutes uptown to the Apollo. As she climbed out of the car, Brianna thought that it looked just like anyone would think, even after all the years it had been open: the neon signage, the big marquee announcing current and upcoming shows.

  It was tucked away between buildings, tiny and larger than life all at once, and Brianna felt a little tingle work through her as they walked up to the entrance, imagining all of the performers who had ever gone inside, gone up on the stage—many of them black like her, taking one of the few jobs open to men and women of color in the entertainment industry.

  They went straight into the theater proper, and Brianna’s sense of being in a dream only became more pronounced as she drank in the sight of the grand, old room; it felt as if time stood still inside the building, with all the furnishings so carefully maintained, the paint and decor in the old, decadent New York City style, the heavy curtains hanging over the stage. Ethan led her down to the Orchestra level where their seats were, and Brianna shook her head, wanting to pinch herself to confirm that she wasn’t just imagining it all, that she was actually there.

  “Are you okay, Bri?” She looked at Ethan, pulling herself out of her reverie.

  “I’m great,” she replied, smiling broadly. “This place is just—it’s amazing.” She shook her head and they sat down together, waiting for the theater to fill up and for the show to start. She would be right up close, right where she could—if she wanted—see the sweat on the performers’ faces when they came out, when they settled into their performance. It was an amazing feeling, and the fact that Ethan had given it to her was an amazing gift.

  When the performers came out, Brianna felt a mixture of elation and odd disappointment. She’d known—it was obvious—that Nina Simone wouldn’t be on the stage. It was a tribute performance, and Nina herself had been dead for over a decade. But seeing men and women of color take up their positions, to play tribute to a woman who had been such an elemental force, such a natural talent, was amazing.

  Brianna let the waves of pleasure, cool like water rushing over her, warm like arms wrapped around her, hit her again and again as the big band and the female vocalists went into one standard after another. They barely tinkered with the classic tunes—Brianna thought maybe one or two had been shifted in key to accommodate vocalists—and she could almost imagine herself in the audience, watching an actual performance by Ms. Simone, seeing the great woman herself. “Feeling Good,” “Take Me To The Water,” “Since I Fell For You,” the band played for what seemed like hours, until Brianna almost couldn’t stand how happy she was, how joyful she was just to hear it all.

  By the end of the show, Brianna realized that she had cried, more than once; that Ethan had seen her crying, tears of joy
and empathetic sorrow for the words in the songs, delight and dismay, all of the emotions that she could imagine ever feeling in her life. She found a packet of tissues in her purse and dabbed carefully at her face, smiling for him when he asked if she was okay.

  “I am better than okay,” she said, putting her hand in his and seeing his pale fingers curl around her dark skin almost dearly. “Now where are we going?” Ethan grinned.

  “Well, we’re going to take a little walk, first—if you’re up for fifteen blocks—and then we’ll have a little ride through Central Park,” he said. “On our way to dinner, and then...at last...dessert.” Brianna chuckled, following Ethan’s lead as he guided them both through the crowds leaving the Apollo’s sacred precincts.

  “I think I can manage fifteen blocks,” she said. It was the upper limit of what she’d want to walk—but it wasn’t terrible. It would, she thought, work up her appetite for dinner.

  She wasn’t shocked when she saw a horse-drawn carriage waiting for them at the entrance to Central Park; what did surprise Brianna was how charmed she was by it. It was—on paper—one of the cheesier things a person could do in the city, up there with visiting the Statue of Liberty, or taking gaudy pictures at Times Square, or visiting Katz’s Diner. But even in the life she’d become accustomed to, where a private car and driver took her anywhere she needed to go, there was something thrilling and luxurious about being let into her seat by a man in old-fashioned clothes and a top hat, and the smell of horse and leather.

  Brianna let herself be swept away by the whole experience, knowing that Ethan had done it all for the sake of making her feel precious, delighted, and fully in the mood; it was manipulative but that didn’t mean that it was bad. She gave into the sheer power of the luxurious evening Ethan had planned for them, not thinking about the workday, or the company they both worked for and within, or anything other than how much fun she was having and how much she admired Ethan for planning the whole evening out.

  Chapter10

  Ethan hadn’t realized how much he’d come to rely on Brianna’s presence in the office—and the relief of her availability to him—until the day came when she called in sick. He didn’t think for a second that she was faking it, either; she’d sounded sick indeed when she’d called him that morning, well before she needed to be in the office.

  He sat back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling of his office. It was going to be an absolutely interminable day—he knew that without even having to know what was on his schedule. With no Brianna to break up the strains and tensions of the meetings, decisions, and phone calls that the day would be made up of, it was going to last seemingly forever.

  The ringer for his office door buzzed and Ethan took a breath, reminding himself that he’d been in business for years without having someone like Brianna around; he could get through it, and he would, without taking his stress out on anyone. “Yeah?”

  “It’s Cassidy,” the voice on the other end of the intercom said. “I wanted to go over today’s schedule with you, Mr. Hale.” Ethan tried not to exhale on a sigh.

  “Come on in,” he said, pressing the button to unlock the door. He sat up in his chair and told himself not to spend the whole day dwelling on Brianna’s absence—that would just make it worse.

  A moment later, Cassidy came in, letting the door close and lock behind her as she approached his desk, her notepad in hand and a pen tucked behind her ear. She did—Ethan had to admit—look beautiful, with her long, dark hair pulled away from her face in a bun, dressed in business-best: a skirt and blazer that had probably come from Nordstrom, shoes that he was pretty sure were Valentino or another designer, or at least a very good knockoff.

  From the day of her interview with him for the position as his primary assistant, Cassidy had always dressed up; she always had her nails done, and he was pretty sure that the majority of her disposable income was spent on making sure she always looked like a “perfect 10.”

  “So, tell me what’s on the docket for today, Cass,” Ethan said, turning his chair away from his computer to look at her as she sat down. Cassidy was—in a certain way—as different from Brianna as someone could get; both women were beautiful, but there was something about Cass, some lack of spark, something about the very normality of her beauty that just didn’t appeal to him. Not to mention the fact that you couldn’t imagine in a million years propositioning her the way you did Brianna, he thought absently. He pushed the comparison out of his mind and focused on the work in front of him.

  “You’ve got a meeting with the Board of Directors right before lunch, about the ongoing investigations in HR and about the end-of-year profit reports,” Cassidy began, looking at her notes. “This afternoon, you’ve got three meetings: one with the guy from PowerTrain, about their contract with the company for marketing; that’s at two. The next one will be at three-thirty, and it’s with the Accounting Department here…” Ethan let his mind drift a bit, knowing that Cassidy would remind him of each individual engagement within twenty minutes of it happening—more than enough time for him to prepare for it.

  He thought about the other things he had to do that day, apart from what Cassidy had on his itinerary; Ethan had always packed 48 hours worth of activities into every twenty-four-hour period when he wasn’t on vacation. Maybe after the year-end reports and all that are done, I can talk Brianna into going with me out of town somewhere. He let his mind wander a bit, paying just enough attention to Cassidy’s commentary to be able to follow her cues, to remind himself of the important factors.

  “I was wondering—you’ll have an hour after the meeting with the board,” Cassidy said, cutting through Ethan’s thoughts. “I know you usually have some kind of lunch meeting—either with clients, or with Brianna, or something that comes up like that—but since you’ll be free, I was wondering if you might want to check out that new Tapas place on Fifth with me?” Ethan barely remembered himself enough not to frown at the invitation.

  “I think I’m actually going to be meeting with my accountant—my personal accountant—today,” he said quickly. “He wants to talk to me about taxes, and that will go over better with some Chinese food.” Ethan gave Cassidy what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

  “Oh! Oh, of course—I must have missed that appointment,” Cassidy said, looking mildly crestfallen that she didn’t have a note about that.

  “I didn’t put it in formally, so it’s not your fault,” Ethan told her. “I only just talked to him after getting in.”

  “Oh, good,” Cassidy said, relieved. “I’ll add that into your calendar, in case anyone is looking for you.” Ethan nodded his assent. In truth, he thought he might get the Chinese to go, and maybe go to see how Brianna was doing; he knew just what she’d like, and even if the visit didn’t end up with the two of them having sex, it would be good to see her.

  “Is there anything else?” Ethan shifted in his chair again, feeling a little uncomfortable with Cassidy’s invitation still. Cassidy rose from her seat and nodded.

  “Yeah—no, I’ve got everything else under control. I’ll let you know when to get ready for that board meeting,” she said, with her usual smile. Ethan nodded again as she turned to leave and, when the door had closed behind her he sighed.

  “That was awkward as hell,” he muttered, partly to himself. He’d known that Cassidy liked him—she wouldn’t have been so dedicated, so thorough in her work if she didn’t. He had always thought it was more along the lines of the kind of liking that a student had to their teacher, or maybe their principal; he had never expected her to make even as mild-mannered a move as inviting him to lunch.

  Of course, Ethan reminded himself, he could always just point out to her that with the HR investigation going on, it would be unseemly for him to see her socially. He snorted. If Cassidy knew that he was already seeing Brianna, he was fairly certain that the brunette assistant would flip her lid. Cassidy knew that she was beautiful, and probably—like many beautiful women—thought that it was enough, o
n its own, to get her whatever man she wanted. The idea that she just didn’t do anything for Ethan would never occur to her.

  Ethan opened up his email and got down to work, thinking about what the rest of his day would hold. He had a call to make, before the board meeting, and he needed to work with Jennifer on something between the call and the meeting—he would need to keep the chat with one of the clients he’d brought to the ad agency short. He pulled up the menu for his favorite Chinese restaurant, only a handful of blocks away from the office, and started in on an order to pick up after his meeting. He ordered wonton soup and eggrolls for Brianna, and an order of dumplings and Szechuan chicken for himself, and set the pick-up time, without even a second thought.

  He unplugged his phone from the charger and found the number he needed in his contacts list, making note of the time. Twenty minutes should be enough time to get it done, and then I can meet with Jenn, and then the board. He might—Ethan thought—make his lunch a little longer, if Brianna was up to it. The fact that she was such an integral part of his daily life had scared him a bit; he’d hired her for the position in the hopes of creating a kind of convenience for himself, following his friend’s example. Instead he’d found himself thoroughly attached to her, in a way that he’d never been with any other woman.

  His email notification chimed, and Ethan glanced at his inbox; there was another report from HR, detailing the ongoing investigation. It was marked Urgent. He rolled his eyes and opened it, downloading the report to look at once he’d finished the call, before he talked to Jennifer about the projects she had going on.

  But even as he turned away from his computer to call his contact, a random line from the report caught Ethan’s attention. We’re finding suggestions of more malpractice and abuse of position higher up in the organization… Ethan put the call out of his mind and focused on the report, feeling his heart beating faster with sudden consciousness of how far out on a limb he was: the CEO and owner of the company, conducting an illicit relationship with his own employee, in the midst of an investigation into relationships very like the one he was in.