The Sheikh's Secret

by Knight, Kylie

  As the night wore on, things escalated rather quickly. Half the people there were already drunk before even getting to his room. The music was blaring, and a few people had taken up a corner of the table in the dining area for cocaine. They had the mirrors and little straws that looked like they’d seen their use. That kind of stuff had never appealed to Bryan. Messed with person’s emotions and body. He needed to be fit for the game.

  A couple of the girls came up to him, both clearly drunk. “Hey,” the blonde one said, “you’re Bryan, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s me.”

  They grinned at one another and pushed him back. He hadn’t realized he was so close to the chair, and when he stepped back to catch himself he hit the chair. Losing his balance he plopped into it.

  Before he had a chance to get up, the girls climbed into his lap. They started laughing as he tried to push them off, but they were making a show of being clumsy. To be honest, it was kind of funny, and he was laughing at having lost his balance.

  Then one of the women ducked her head down, bunching over herself as her friend reached over and tickled her, and that’s when Bryan saw Maggie. She stood there staring at him, a plastic shopping bag in her hand.

  “Maggie,” he said, but the music drowned out his voice.

  She knew he was talking though, and she just held up a hand and shook her head. Some guy came up to hit on her, and that was the final straw. She dropped the bag, turned, and ran.

  Bryan pushed the girls off of him and checked the plastic bag to find ice-cream and a movie in it. She’d come to surprise him. Bryan sighed and looked at the door she’d left from. He couldn’t think of what he could say to fix it, and in that moment of indecision, he knew he’d lost her.

  He tried calling her later that night, hopefully after she’d had a chance to calm down. No answer. He waited a day. Two days. No answer. Weeks went by. He still had to travel for games after that and wasn’t able to go and actually see her, make her talk to him.

  When they finally did swing through her town, he stopped at his publicist’s office to find that she didn’t work there anymore. He thought she just hadn’t been answering her work phone, but no, it was much worse. He didn’t even know where she lived.

  For the first time in his life, he’d never felt so lost and alone.

  All Maggie could do was sit as she watched her life fall apart around her, and all without her even having to lift a finger. How could she have ever been so stupid as to get involved with that… person? He wasn’t even a man!

  In all her life she’d never been more devastated by someone’s treatment of her, and as a larger woman, she’d had to endure quite a bit in her life. Like an idiot she’d believed him. She let herself get caught up in the promise and the joy of it all, only to have it crash down on her. One day. He couldn’t even have gone a single day with her gone before going right back to it. It was like she hadn’t even existed. Nothing had ever made her feel more useless, stupid, or unwanted in her life. He’d had her, and now he had to have two women just to, what? To get the taste out of his mouth, or something?

  He kept calling her, and calling her, like that would fix anything. Women, drugs, drinking, it was clear the life he wanted. She didn’t fit in with that. What was there to say, really? She wasn’t about to be the type of woman to nag her man about his lifestyle. Let him live like that, let him have his parties and late nights. It was best he just did it away from her.

  That became doubly true when she found out she was pregnant. There was no question in her mind about if it was his or not. She hadn’t been with anyone in two years before him, and she sure couldn’t bring herself to be with anyone else after that either. She debated telling him, but really, what good would it do? If he wasn’t going to change his life for her, he sure wouldn’t do it for a baby. Besides, even if he did, he’d just grow to resent her or – God forbid – their child for having to slow down his crazy party life. The thought of it all was just too painful.

  When she went to her boss to ask that she no longer be asked to work with Bryan, her boss fired her. Right then and there. No questions, no why, no wanting to know more. She just railed at her saying it was unprofessional and that she couldn’t just pick and choose what work she did. She wasn’t even an actual agent, she was an assistant. That meant she had no leverage.

  Trying to find a job after that was a ridiculous nightmare since her boss wasted no time at all tarnishing any sort of a reputation Maggie had built up for herself. Branded unprofessional, whiny, and lazy, no one wanted anything to do with her. It had been right at the end of the month, too, and when she couldn’t produce rent, her boss gave her 30 days to pay or get out. No job, no possibilities, she had no choice but to pack up. After their little blowout after Bryan, since apparently she’d had a crush on him for years, she and Stacy made up.

  With nowhere to go, Stacy let her stay with her until she got things figured out. The idea of figuring things out, though, seemed by far the most impossible thing she could’ve tried to do.

  It’d been a month when Bryan received a call from Stacy. Her number was still in his phone, which surprised him as much as seeing it pop up on his phone. He honestly couldn’t remember why he’d saved it. Had he anticipated needing to talk to her frequently?

  When he answered it, the tone in Stacy’s voice when she said, “Can you talk?” let him know this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

  He’d been worried that she was going to go on and confess her love for him now that Maggie was out of the way, but it was so much worse. Stacy told him everything, about Maggie losing her job, the baby, and that she was staying with her now.

  Bryan nearly lost his mind. So much so that he got her address from her, and got on the next plane out, abandoning the game that night. It was technically a breach of contract or something, he was pretty sure, but he couldn’t have cared less.

  When he knocked on Stacy’s door, the look on Maggie’s face when she opened it was worth everything. She was quick to hide it, though. “What are you doing here?”

  “Stacy told me. Everything.”

  Maggie closed her eyes and took a breath. “Which must be why she left the house suddenly. Because she knew I’d kill her.”

  “You’re pregnant?”

  “Look, if that’s the only reason you’re here, you wasted your time.”

  Bryan stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “It’s not. I came back for you. I’ve been trying to reach you.”

  She looked up at him, and he could see the hurt in her eyes. Still, she didn’t try to remove his hands from her shoulders. “It seemed like you were real comfortable without me when I found you.”

  “Okay, look, if you’re going to come live with me and be mine, you have to learn to talk to me when you have a problem, instead of disappearing on me. That wasn’t my party. My team brought it to my room. Yes, I was partying with them. I was happy because I’d found you, and we’d just won a game. No, I was not with those women. That was a matter of insanely bad timing.”

  “How can I believe you’re not lying to me right now?”

  “Because I’m not.”

  Her eyes softened as she recognized those words and the tone in his voice, and he knew she did believe him. Then, suddenly her entire expression shifted, and her head snapped back for a moment. “Wait, did you say come and live with you?”

  “What?” he asked. “Did you think I’d let the unemployed mother of my child live in squalor like this?”

  That was when a very familiar tone of voice said from behind him, “Squalor?”

  He and Maggie laughed, but Stacy stood there holding two cartons of ice-cream.

  “Oh no, we’re talking about this,” she said.

  “I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night,” Bryan said.

  Maggie rested her head against his chest and sighed. All at once, that feeling returned of everything being right.

  He’d never let her go again.

&nb
sp; THE END

  Billionaire For Hire

  "So wait," Erika turned on her office chair to face Monica, one brow lifted in amusement, "you're telling me that for five dollars, I can hire a billionaire?"

  "Well, that's how we pitch it," Monica replied with a wink. In one arm she held a big box, a generous slit taken out of the top to allow paper to enter. In the other she clutched a clip board. Several other women had turned away from their desks to listen to the spiel, as had some of the men.

  "With the odds of winning, you might as well just play the lottery," Laurie, one of Erika's office mates, said with a shrug. "Everyone in the company is eligible to play, and I'm not just talking about this office. I'm talking corporate in Mumbai, Tokyo, Toronto, and London. There may even be outside bids placed, for all I know. I think one year the prize went to some girl who'd bought the ticket in an auction house. One of those silent auctions, you know, like rich people do? So I don't think it's worth your money to play."

  Monica shook her head and rolled her eyes skywards playfully.

  "It's for charity, you know. All money collected goes to the Children's Hospital. And it's a fun fantasy in these summer months, when there aren't any big holidays coming up. So what do you say? Help some kids and dream big, right?"

  "Eh, maybe next year," Laurie said with a shrug. Some of the other women Erika worked with had dug money out of their pockets, and despite the odds, Erika found herself looking for money as well. Helping kids was always worth the expenditure, and she knew that Dynamic Horizons had raised over half a million dollars this time last year with this same fundraiser. At that time she'd been fresh out of college and had just submitted her resume when the story had been covered by local media.

  "Well, I'm in," Erika said. A folded fiver in hand, she extended the money towards Monica. "Erika Clapton."

  "That's funny," Monica said with a grin as she held out the box towards Erika, "like the singer?"

  "No relation," Erika mumbled. She shoved the five dollars into the box and Monica rebalanced the load in her arms to check Erika's name off on the list. It seemed like destiny that someone with a name so close to a singer's would end up working at the largest and most successful multinational enterprise record label to ever exist. Never had Erika thought that a degree in marketing would lead her here. Most of her old classmates had ended up working for retail companies, conceptualizing billboards and sales techniques and slogans, and here Erika was working with a team of men and women far more advanced than she was, shaping strategies for pop stars and rock gods alike.

  "Well, maybe your name will boost your chances," Monica said with a wink. "The last few years our billionaire has been dining with the rich and famous. I can't help but think that the selection is rigged, but it's none of my business."

  "Wouldn't that be something," Erika replied with a shake of her head. "Well, if I end up winning, I'll make sure I talk the big boss into giving you a raise."

  They laughed and Monica moved on. Summer fantasies were right — Erika had never been lucky, and she knew there was no way she'd ever have her name pulled. By the end of the day thoughts of the contest had already faded from her mind, and by the end of the month no one spoke of it at all. Erika was buried in work when the notification popped up on the bottom right corner of her computer screen.

  "Please report immediately to HR."

  Sent from none other than the head of HR, Isaac Politte. Erika glanced up from her screen to the others she worked with, finding them undisturbed and engrossed in their business. The message had been sent to her and her alone, and it left her feeling uncomfortable. A trip to HR usually meant problems, and as the newest and least experienced employee on her team, Erika was sure she'd messed something up.

  With a racing heart Erika scooped up her purse, mumbled a quick excuse about using the bathroom to her coworkers, and set off down the hall towards HR. Marketing occupied the ninth floor of the building, with HR on the twelfth. On a typical day she would have taken the stairs to burn some extra calories, but as nervous as she was, Erika didn't want any other reason to sweat through her clothes. As she waited for the elevator she tugged at the black pencil skirt she wore, conscious of every wrinkle and imperfection. Erika had never been traditionally beautiful, but she'd never been ashamed of her body, either. Over time she’d grown into her curves, and she’d come to think of herself as fashionable and pretty. Now that the spotlight beamed down on her, however, every one of her flaws seemed that much more troubling.

  The elevator doors opened, and soon Erika found herself in HR's lobby. A bored girl in her early twenties gazed at Erika from behind a desk and set her lips in frustration.

  "Uh, Erika Clapton?" she asked as Erika approached.

  "That's me," Erika announced, nervous.

  "Yeah, uh Isaac wants to see you. He wants you to go right in. Office 3, right down there." She pointed a manicured nail towards a short hall, then let the hand drop as she returned to whatever occupied her on her computer. Erika mumbled a quick thanks and approached the hall. Isaac's door had been left ajar.

  "Excuse me?" Erika asked when she stood just outside. She wrapped her knuckles upon the door gently, and it swung open a bit more from the force. "I'm Erika Clapton, sir. You wanted to see me?"

  Isaac Politte, as head of the HR department, was in contact with all of Dynamic Horizons other corporate branches and the rumor was that he was in touch with the big boss himself. As a lowly marketing minion, Erika wasn't sure how true that rumor was, and she wasn't about to ask to find out.

  "Come in," Isaac beckoned her. Erika entered when invited, lingering by the door. Isaac was a stick of a man, tall and scrawny, and he looked as crushed as a sardine in can sitting behind his desk.

  "Do you know why I've called you here?" he asked. When Erika shook her head he gestured her over, pointing vaguely at one of the minimalist armchairs on the visiting side of his desk. Erika sat without hesitation, heart still racing. If he was inviting her to sit down it had to be bad.

  "It seems there will be an issue with your attendance," Isaac said, voice stern. "Are you at a point in your workload where someone else can pick up where you left of without much issue?"

  Was she being fired? A million questions raced through her mind, and Erika found herself tongue tied for a long moment. When she finally did reply it wasn't an answer, but another question, that escaped her lips.

  "Why?"

  "Because you'll be spending a week with me, Ms. Clapton," a deep voice announced from the doorway she'd entered through. With a start Erika turned, and she found herself face to face with a man both familiar and at the same time foreign.

  "Tommy?"

  Dark hair, kept at a respectable length and styled in typical business casual. Stubble ran across his jaw, but it was handsome instead of unruly. His chest was broad and firm, but it tapered into an attractive waist to lend him a swimmer's build. Beneath his suit it was hard to tell, but Erika had a suspicion that it was more than just good tailoring that filled out his jacket and slacks so well. But despite how distracting and attractive the man who stood in the doorway was, the one part of him Erika couldn't stop staring at was his eyes.

  She'd seen his eyes before.

  More than fifteen years had passed since she'd last seen that piercing amber gaze. The last time she'd been under its scrutiny had been when she was just a girl, dead set on annoying her older brother and his friends. They were ten years older, and she'd always thought they were so cool. But as cool as they were, they'd never let her hang out while they were together and jamming in the garage. They’d formed a band, and she’d have given anything to rock out with them. Them. Michael and Luke and Tommy. But it was Tommy's eyes that had stuck with her all these years, and it was Tommy's eyes now, on the face of a man rather than a teenager, that stared her down.

  Heat rushed to Erika's cheeks. The last time they'd seen each other she'd—

  "Ms. Clapton," Isaac said with some distress, "please show some respect for M
r. Wilmarth."

  Thomas Wilmarth. Erika's heart beat faster. The name was familiar, and she was sure if she called Michael up right now he'd confirm that the Tommy she'd once done everything in her power to annoy was now the powerful man that stood before her.

  "It's okay, Isaac. She doesn't know," Thomas said, eyes flicking from Erika and to Isaac.

  "Well then, I'll let her know," Isaac insisted, tightly strung. "Ms. Clapton, Mr. Wilmarth is Dynamic Horizons' CEO. You would do well to respect the man who made your job possible."

  The color intensified across Erika's cheeks and she shifted in her chair. Was this really happening?

  "What do you mean, a week with you?" she asked, eyes still glued on the man Tommy had become.

  "I brought you here to tell you that you've won the raffle, Ms. Clapton," Isaac said, formal and uptight as ever. "I suppose Mr. Wilmarth has come to collect you early, at his convenience. I hadn't expected him to arrive before the end of the day."

  "Time is money, Isaac," Thomas said simply. He strode from the door to stand behind Erika's chair, keeping to one side. The way he towered over her made her feel very small, like she was a little kid all over again. The superiority he'd had as a teenager hadn't faded with time, and she imagined that his position as CEO had only inflated his ego. "Don't beat yourself up over it. You more than most know it's impossible to pin me down."