The Sheikh's Secret

by Knight, Kylie

  "That is it," Isaac replied, some well masked disdain peeping through in his tone. "Shall I redistribute Ms. Clapton's workload?"

  The back and forth had her near dizzy. She'd won the raffle without realizing the billionaire up for grabs was none other than a childhood friend, and one that Erika figured had hard feelings for her. Now her professional life was being shifted around and redistributed like she was being fired, but this wasn't the end of her career, was it? It was just a vacation. A prize. Unless Tommy — Thomas now, she guessed, had other ideas. Would her irritating nature as a child translate to unemployment now? Never in her wildest dreams would Erika have thought this would happen to her.

  "Yes. Ms. Clapton," there was mock sincerity in Thomas' words, "if you care to come with me, you may claim your prize. One week's paid vacation, and your own billionaire at your disposal as a personal assistant during that time."

  A week. Hadn't the deal originally been for dinner? Erika tried to remember, but as she looked back she realized she'd never read over the official memo, thinking that nothing would come of her ticket. But here stood Thomas Wilmarth, ready to whisk her away.

  Head in the clouds, Erika rose. Reality seemed very far away, and she wondered if she might wake up before they made it out the door. Surely this was a dream. She'd never won anything in her life, and the coincidence of her billionaire boss’ identity was just too eerie to be true.

  But maybe it wasn't a coincidence at all. Erika turned and let her eyes sneak a peek at Thomas once more. As a man he was devilishly handsome, the same sly glint to his eyes that had always been there as a kid lending him a mischievous appearance. He’d played in her brother’s garage band, she remembered, on guitar. Was that how he’d come to build up Dynamic Horizons? There were so many questions to ask.

  "Okay," Erika mumbled, not knowing what else to say. She swallowed hard and glanced over to Isaac, wondering if he needed anything else from her before she was whisked away. Isaac wasn't even paying attention to her, his eyes expertly averted.

  Thomas strode from the room and out the door, looking back over his shoulder once he was in the hall to make sure that Erika followed. And follow Erika did. The pencil skirt she'd pulled at before was now too tight and revealing, highlighting curves she knew she should have been ashamed of. The way her blouse clung to her left her upper body blob-like and shapeless instead of dreamy and billowy, she thought. This morning she'd driven to the office with the window down, and the mousy brown hair she had pinned up in a professional bun was probably messy and windswept. The look he gave her told her he was taking in her every detail and internalizing it. How she wished she really would have visited the bathroom to freshen up before reporting to HR.

  Although Thomas had looked back, he did not stop for her. Long legs saw him down the hall quickly, and Erika had to jog to catch up. Back in the lobby the bored girl at the front desk lifted her head and set her deadpan eyes on Thomas.

  "Take care, Mr. Wilmarth. Say hi to Roy for me," she said flatly.

  "Stay well, Paula," he replied with a quick raise of his hand. There was no time to stop and talk; Thomas was already well out the door. When Erika scurried through the lobby the receptionist only glared at her.

  When the door closed behind them, leaving them alone in the hallway leading to the elevators, Thomas turned his head once more to look back at her as he walked.

  "What's the matter, Pipsqueak? Don't tell me your short little legs still can't keep up even all these years later."

  It was a blast from the past, the impact of it causing Erika to stumble in her efforts to follow right behind him. Pipsqueak. The teasing demeanor. Although his voice was much more deep and commanding now, Erika heard Tommy in his words. There was no question that this man was one of her brother's high school friends. All of the uncertainty and fear she'd faced over unemployment vanished as Tommy jabbed at her through Thomas. The childish way he addressed her made her believe there were frustrations, but no hard feelings.

  "I knew it was you," she hissed, speeding up so she could walk by his side. They arrived at the elevator, and Thomas pressed the down button. Would they head back to marketing so she could collect the rest of her belongings? Erika was glad she'd had the foresight to grab her purse.

  "Do you want a medal?" Thomas asked. The elevator doors opened, and he stepped inside. Erika followed. Thomas was just as much of a jerk as he'd always been, but now the tables had turned. All those years ago Michael and his friends had always told her to get lost, but now she'd won Thomas' services for a whole week. A billionaire at her disposal. It was time they settled the score and she got even.

  When she entered the elevator, Thomas pressed the button that would bring them to the very bottom floor. Erika had never been that far. As the elevator began its path downward, she fixed him with hard eyes and crossed her arms. Maybe he was the CEO, and maybe she worked for him now, but for the next week Thomas worked for her. Erika was going to enjoy it, even if it meant she'd be dismissed after. There were other jobs out there, but she figured that she'd never have a chance to get even with Tommy again after all the wrong he'd done her.

  "Are you serious? A medal?" she asked. Once upon a time Erika would have fallen for his trap and ruffled with anger. Thomas had always had a way of getting under her skin and leaving her irrational, but now she was older and aware of his tricks. "This is my game now, Tommy. For the next week you're my assistant, and my first rule is that you have to be nice to me."

  Thomas lifted an eyebrow, but before he had a chance to reply, the door opened. Erika found herself looking out upon a poorly lit hallway, no office doors visible.

  "If you're so intent to play me," Thomas said, a hint of mischief in his voice, "then let's hurry up and get out of here. When I'm at work I have to maintain certain facades. Surely you understand."

  Without waiting for her, he'd started off down the dark hall and towards a metal door over which hung an exit sign. Erika was left to follow, her heels clicking against the poured concrete hall with every step she took. When Thomas shouldered the door open, she found herself standing in a parking garage. Before them, idling, was a black town car with tinted windows. Erika looked it over, but Thomas wasted no time in approaching and opening the door, sliding into the back seat.

  "Well?" he asked when he was inside, leaning back out to look at her. He'd pulled out a cellphone and had it pressed to his ear. The punk kid Erika had once known had grown into and attractive, important man — and she wasn't sure how she really felt about it just yet.

  "Coming," she mumbled back, following him into the back of the vehicle. As Erika settled, the car shifted into drive and they were off.

  "Where do you want to go?" Thomas asked. The phone was still pressed to his ear, but it looked like he was on hold. That billionaires still had to wait around on the phone amused her, and Erika grinned.

  "What do you mean?" she asked. "Some place around the city to shop or to eat?"

  "No." Thomas fixed her with a hard stare that sent a shiver down her spine. To mask it, Erika shifted against the seat. "You are sitting beside Thomas Wilmarth, the CEO of Dynamic Horizons and guitarist for Ten Percent Down. When I ask you where you want to go, I don't mean around town. Paris. Florence. Munich. Tokyo. You are on vacation now, and the world is literally the limit. So tell me, Pipsqueak — where do you want to go?"

  Pipsqueak. Erika felt her cheeks color with rage. Maybe Thomas had money now, but money hadn't changed anything about him. In his eyes she was still the annoying girl that had been too young and uncool to hang out with them, and now that girl was going to get even. All those years ago they'd waged war in her childhood home, and it was only fitting that she returned the favor.

  "Take me to the place you call home," Erika told him, staring him down. Thomas' eyes narrowed just slightly as he attempted to figure out her game, but he did not comment.

  "Prepare to leave for home," he spoke into the phone. All of this time she'd thought he was waiting on hold wh
en really the person on the other end had been waiting for him. With that said, Thomas ended the call and slid the phone back into his pocket.

  "Leave for home? Where is home?" Thomas had always treated her like this, dangling information above her but just out of reach. The smug grin he wore confirmed that nothing had changed over the last decade; Thomas still delighted in playing her just as much as he had as a teenager. Only Thomas wasn't a teenager any longer. As the car left the parking garage and traveled down the busy downtown streets, Erika took a long moment to appreciate how time had changed him. Was it wrong to find him attractive? Erika still hadn't decided.

  "You'll see," Thomas dismissed her with a shrug. He sat back and got comfortable, and soon they'd left the heart of the city and arrived at the airport just outside of the suburbs.

  "You're not serious," Erika muttered to herself, then turned her attention to him. "What about my passport? And clothes? And—"

  "Everything is taken care of," Thomas said.

  "Even my—"

  "I promise, whatever thing you're about to ask me about has been taken care of. I didn't make my fortunes being careless, Pipsqueak. It'd do you good to invest some faith in me."

  He demanded her respect and trust, but he'd done nothing to earn it. This week was supposed to be about her, and this game was supposed to be her own. Rather than admit defeat, Erika shook her head.

  "I think you've forgotten," she said, mirroring his mischievous nature in her tone. "I'm the one in charge right now, Tommy. I won the contest fair and square. That means that I'm your boss for this week, and you're my assistant. So it's time you're upfront with me. First: where are we going?"

  The car had come to a stop before a security checkpoint. They had arrived at a part of the airport Erika had never seen before, but she didn't take the time to appreciate her surroundings. Instead, he eyes were glued to the handsome man who sat beside her. His gaze had hardened as she challenged him, but in the end he relented.

  "We're going to my private estate in the Caribbean."

  The Caribbean. Erika had been expecting a destination within the US, maybe somewhere in Hawaii if Thomas was particularly fond of the exotic. The Caribbean had never crossed her mind, and now that it did, she was boggled that he could consider a destination so distant from where they were home.

  "And my belongings?"

  "I had the undercarriage of the jet packed with a few suitcases filled with clothes in your size. There is no need for a passport where we are going. And, lastly, I've arranged someone to look after your cat." A pointed look. Erika's eyes widened just a little. He'd known exactly what she was about to say.

  "How did you find out about all of that?" she asked. The invasion of privacy was startling; had Dynamic Horizons really collected so much data about her?

  "When you're rich, there isn't much outside of your reach," Thomas said with a dismissive shrug, but as he looked away she saw his smirk. The car was on the move again, and now they were driving across the tarmac, heading towards a hangar.

  "I can't believe this is happening," Erika muttered. A sleek jet, shining white, drove slowly out from inside the hanger as they approached. Upon the back tail "DH" had been painted on. There was no question it was Thomas'.

  "Believe it." The car stopped just short of the hangar and Thomas climbed out, heading towards the jet. "The next week will be ripped out of your dreams and funded with my money. There's very little off the table. If you want it, we'll do it."

  A deal like that was too good to be true. All of this luxury, the experience of a lifetime, had been bought for five dollars. As Erika left the car to follow him she realized just how lucky she was. Not only did she get to live like a billionaire for seven incredible days, but she also had a shot at avenging her younger self.

  "Maybe I should buy you some stilts, Pipsqueak," Thomas shot from up ahead. "Those little legs just can't keep up."

  "Shut up!" In that moment she wasn't quipping with her boss, but engaged in battle with her old rival. "I'm not even short anymore, Tommy!"

  "You'll always be mini to me," he laughed.

  An incredible, annoying seven days. But Erika was determined to get him yet.

  ---

  The few times Erika had flown before, it had been in economy. Transitioning between cramped seats shared with strangers to a whole jet shared with just one man opened her eyes to just how difference life was for the elite. Instead of being a nuisance, flying felt decadent. As a personal flight attendant served her champagne and tiny, fluffy pasties, Thomas sat back with his arms behind his head and watched the clouds pass by.

  "It never gets old," he said aloud.

  "And what is 'it'?" Erika asked, flute of champagne in hand. She was painfully underdressed and out of place, but no one who worked on board had mentioned anything about it just yet.

  "Flying," Thomas replied. He didn't look to her. "Thinking that once this was something rare and sacred. Thinking that once upon a time, this wasn't my life."

  He turned to look at her then, one brow hitched in a devious way.

  "Guess those with longer legs really do go farther the fastest."

  The moment of sincerity and reflection turned into a mockery. Erika clenched her free fist and set the champagne down.

  "I'm not short! I'm 5'8!"

  "And I'm a hair taller than six foot," Thomas shot back without hesitation. "There is measurable evidence that I do, in fact, look down upon you just as much as I did when you were a brat."

  It was time to change strategies. As anger bubbled up inside of her, no doubt part of Thomas' plan to get under her skin just like he had as a kid, Erika refocused the energy it gave her into feeding her thirst for revenge.

  "Tell me, assistant," she said, selecting her words carefully, "why is it that you keep bringing up my height? Is it because you're afraid to see that I've grown up from a little girl into a woman, so you keep reminding yourself of who I was?"

  It was Thomas' turn to be caught off guard. All day he'd played superior, surprising her in HR, hiding the truth from her until she'd pried it from him, and putting her down with his teasing. At last she saw him squirm. Erika couldn't hold back her satisfied smirk. It served him right.

  "I suppose," he said after a long pause, "it's for the same reason you keep calling me Tommy."

  Their eyes locked. In that moment Tommy faded away, and Erika saw the man he'd become. Cunning, clever, successful, attractive. Her lips parted just slightly as heated tendrils of attraction shot through her for this dark, handsome, devilish man. Had they not had the history they did, Erika was well aware she'd have been head over heels for him by now.

  It might have been a trick of the light, but Erika thought she could see hungry affection pass across his face like a shadow beneath a drifting cloud.

  The rest of the flight was largely silent, each of them keeping to their own thoughts. As they began the descent, Thomas drew her attention and gestured out the window.

  "There she is," he announced. "The island."

  The jet was coming down for a landing on a speck of an island amongst an ocean so blue she thought she might be imagining things.

  "This is the Caribbean?" Erika asked. She'd always thought it would be bigger. From where they were she couldn't see a single building, although she could see a dock stretching out into the clear waters.

  "Well, an island in the region of the Caribbean," Thomas remarked. "A private island. I own it. And it's where I call home."

  It couldn't have been a mansion, or a castle, or even some kind of futuristic tower. No. Thomas had to own an entire island. Erika swallowed, watching as they drew closer. As the jet approached she could make out roofs amongst the canopy of palm trees, located close to the beach. There were several buildings down there, and she figured that whatever staff Thomas employed lived there on a permanent basis. The extent of his riches boggled her mind.

  The jet landed on a modest airstrip just off of the beach, and Thomas led her from it to explore
the tropical paradise he called his own. White sand beaches, unmarred by rock, stretched out as far as she could see. Clear waters lapped against their shores, and as they drew close Erika could see fish beneath its surface, vibrant and exotic. She'd removed her heels and walked barefoot across the sand, the fine, warm grains heated beneath her toes. Nestled right along the tree line were the houses. Clusters of staff houses stretched along the shoreline overlooking the water, but Erika knew none of them housed Thomas when he was on island. There was only one building worthy of a billionaire, and it was not on the island at all.

  Amongst the crystalline waters of the ocean, risen from the depths like a gift from Poseidon, was one of the most beautiful buildings she'd even laid eyes upon. Supported by pillars of wood to keep it well above the water, it was accessible by a boardwalk that stretched across the beach they walked across. Large single pane windows exposed its modern interior, and a wraparound porch drew the building together. The place was bigger than the staff houses, but it was not as large as she was expecting.

  "I present to you: home," Thomas said, extending his hand towards the structure. "Now, what's the next thing on your agenda I have to care for, Ms. Clapton?"

  Erika was speechless. She turned from the house to look at him, then back towards it.