One Night With The Billionaire Too

by Cross, Cassie

  “You don’t have to lie to me to ease the pressure. It really doesn’t help as much as you think it does.”

  “It’s a good thing I’m not lying, then.”

  She sighs and rolls up her window. “Maybe you won’t be disappointed in me, but you’ll be disappointed, and that’s something I want to avoid if at all possible. I didn’t work on the project, but I know how important a smooth roll-out was to you, and I want to help fix that if I can. I know I’m just your employee, but I’m invested in the success of your company, too. I don’t want this failure on Jentech’s books either.”

  “You know you’re not just anything to me, right? Certainly not just an employee. We’ve worked together so much over the past five years, almost all of my successes were helped in part or in full by you, Amber. Our work at that company is so intertwined that I have a hard time seeing you as an employee at all. Most of the time it feels like you’re my partner more than anything else.”

  It’s another toe moved closer to that line they’re dancing around, but it’s the truth and she should hear it. He’d worked without her before, but everything didn’t fall into place until he started working with her. It’s the reality that’s kept him from acting on his feelings.

  He doesn’t just want her, he needs her…in every area of his life.

  “Chase,” she says. A word full of warning. He knows he’s said too much, but he doesn’t regret it.

  He shrugs. “I mean it. Jentech wouldn’t be where it is today without you. I wouldn’t be, either. And that’s still true no matter what happens this weekend.”

  She blinks, her eyes a little wet. She offers him a tremulous smile. “This weekend I’ll do my best for the both of you.”

  Chapter Seven

  They pull to a stop in the circular driveway of the Pearson estate and are immediately met by a flurry of household staff. A kind woman wearing a neat blonde bun and a pristine apron hands them both glasses of water with citrus fruits floating inside. A man in a crisp white shirt and khakis removes their luggage from the trunk, and another man in a black suit and tie takes Chase’s car keys and goes to park the car, probably in some off-site rich person airplane hangar full of every luxury vehicle known to man.

  Michael and Janice Pearson stand at the front door, perfectly coiffed and stiff as a pair of mannequins. Michael looks about as constipated as he always does, like smiling physically pains him. He’s an older man—in his mid-sixties—who comes from immense wealth and never needed to work a day in his life. He started his cybersecurity firm as a hobby, just to have something to do during the day.

  His wife Janice is a former Miss Georgia who’s full of all the stereotypical southern charm you can imagine. She grins at Amber like having her for a houseguest is as thrilling as receiving a new fur coat. She’s such a nice lady that Amber wonders how she can bear being married to such a grump. Then again, money has a way of solving those kinds of problems, and the Pearsons have a metric ton of it. Amber wouldn’t be surprised if they have a special room full of gold coins that Michael swims in every once in a while.

  Michael gives Chase a polite handshake as Janice engulfs Amber in a warm, welcoming hug.

  “Amber, sweetie,” she says, sounding genuinely happy to see her. “I’m so glad Chase brought you along. It’s always so good to see you.” If she’s lying, she’s an excellent liar. She gives Chase a similar, but more subdued, welcome.

  Michael cradles her right hand in both of his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so glad you could come. Welcome.”

  “Thank you so much for having us,” she replies. “I heard you have a gorgeous lake out back.”

  “We do.” He leads her into the house as Chase and Janice follow. “Do you enjoy rowing?”

  Only an insanely rich person would ask that kind of question. “I enjoy being rowed.”

  He laughs. “Well, you’re welcome to do that as much as you’d like as long as you’re here. We have a boathouse down along the tree line, and you can talk to Raul if you want to take out any of our boats. He’ll be happy to help you.”

  “Thank you, that’s so kind. I just might take you up on that offer.” She looks around the grand foyer, taking in the marble floors, the fresh flowers on pretty much every surface, the exquisite staircase that’s the focal point for the whole room. She’s used to being in places like this thanks to her close proximity to Chase, but the sheer grandness of people’s wealth still sometimes takes the breath right out of her.

  “Your home is so beautiful,” she says.

  “Thank you, darling,” Janice replies, hooking her arm through Amber’s. She looks back at Chase, who’s straggling behind, just watching the three of them with a triumphant look on his face. She knows that he knows that he made the right decision bringing her here.

  If the porter wasn’t following so closely with their luggage, she might take the chance to stick her tongue out at Chase. He winks at her like he can read her mind, infuriating man.

  “I’m going to get back to our guests in the Conservatory, but Janice is going to take you both upstairs. Come down for a drink when you’re ready.” Michael smiles at Amber, but barely acknowledges Chase as he walks away.

  A maid comes and takes the glasses of water that they were just given and haven’t sipped out of yet. “We have a sweet little room picked out for you at the back of the house that has a great view of the water,” she explains as they walk up the stairs. “A happy coincidence, I suppose, since you love it so much.”

  Amber doesn’t remember saying that exactly, but she goes along with it. “Anything you could possibly need should be stocked in the room, but if you find our preparation lacking, make sure you reach out to Sylvie. She’s the head of household, and you can call her by pressing eight on your bedside telephone.”

  Amber purses her lips to keep from saying something she shouldn’t. She can’t imagine living in a glorified hotel.

  Janice leads them down one hallway, then to the end of another. She pushes the last door open, revealing a bright, beautiful suite. The bed has fresh white linens and pillows like clouds covering a quarter of the bed. All the furniture is pristine white, making the room seem brighter than it probably is.

  A door on the far side of the room leads to a bathroom. Inside is a huge tub that Amber’s positive she could swim laps in. She doesn’t know how, but she’s definitely going to break away over the next couple of nights to indulge in this thing.

  The room is perfect for her.

  “Okay,” she says once they’re back in the main room. “Remember, dial eight on the telephone if you need any little thing, alright?”

  Amber nods, and barely notices the fact that the porter brought in not just her suitcase, but Chase’s as well.

  So…one room for the two of them? With only one bed?

  Oh, no. No, no, no. Not many women would think that sharing a room that has only one bed with Chase Jennings is a nightmare, but for Amber? It’s a worst-case scenario.

  Her panicked brain is in fight-or-flight status, screaming abort mission! Abort mission!

  After sharing a little bit of her life with Chase over lobster, the way he’s been teasing her lately, the way they keep skirting around the subject of them…they can’t share a room. Having Chase within a ten-foot vicinity of her all weekend, without a place to have some much-needed alone time to regroup? It will break Amber. She knows this in her bones.

  She’s screwed.

  There’s only one thing she can do, and that’s catch Janice before she makes her way downstairs. Amber books it into the hallway.

  Janice made it halfway down the hallway before Amber manages to chase her down. On the one hand, she knows making a big deal out of this might put her and Chase on some unsteady footing this weekend when they need all the steadiness they can get. On the other, her rattled mental state will put them on even shakier ground.

  She needs distance to be able to stay at the top of her game.

  Chase is counting on her;
she can’t fail.

  That’s the excuse she’s using for not going with the flow.

  “Janice?”

  “What do you need, sweetie? Is the room okay?” She really is a lovely motherly type. Her demeanor wraps Amber in a warm blanket of comfort, even though she’s sure at least part of it’s an act.

  “About that,” she begins. “The room is absolutely lovely, and I don’t want to make a big deal about it, but Chase and I aren’t together…romantically. Is there any chance you might have an additional room for me?”

  Janice gives Amber a conspiratorial smile as she leans in close, resting her hand on Amber’s arm. “Oh honey, you don’t have to play coy here. So many of these men have had or are having flings with their secretaries. It’s a rite of passage for men like Chase, especially with his history. There’s nothing to hide here, and no one’s going to judge you for it. Not to your face, at least,” she says with a wink.

  Warm blanket of comfort? Gone.

  “We don’t have another room available, unless you want to sleep in the maid’s quarters.”

  It’s not so much an offer as it is a polite no. She opens her mouth to say…something, but Janice shushes her. “Just relax and enjoy your weekend in that beautiful room with that gorgeous man, okay?”

  She makes her way back to the room like a firing squad is waiting for her.

  When Amber returns to the room, Chase is standing by the huge bay window with an amused look on his face.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not offended that you ran out of here at the idea of having to share this room with me. Believe it or not, that’s a first for me.”

  Amber laughs. He states that as a fact, without even a hint of cockiness to it. She believes him.

  “Happy to be your first something,” she teases.

  He looks like he’s about to say something, but changes his mind.

  “I didn’t mean to bruise your ego, I just…I had to see if I could make some kind of other arrangement.”

  “I get it,” he says. “I mentioned needing separate accommodations when I accepted the invite, but—

  “They seem to have a full house this weekend. Janice also mentioned that she thinks we’re trying to hide our relationship, and she told me not to worry about it because flings with secretaries are a rite of passage for men like you.”

  To his credit, Chase looks mortified.

  “She called me your secretary. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a secretary, but I’ve earned my place as your assistant. And she thinks affairs are okay! The fact that she likes me—or is pretending to, at least—makes me question the kind of person I am,” she says with a halfhearted laugh as she reaches up and rubs her temple. She feels a snotty rich person headache coming on. “I wanted to say something to her, but I also need her to keep liking me. It’s the worst.”

  Chase walks over and reaches out for her. He gently slides his hands up and down her arms. The very last thing she needs right now is for him to touch her with any kind of tenderness, but his touch calms the beating of her heart. It’s the double-edged sword of loving him and working for him at the same time.

  “I can sleep on the floor, Amber. It’s really not a big deal, I promise.”

  She glances around the room, desperate for an alternative. There’s a small loveseat by the window that Chase is definitely too tall for, and Amber thinks it might be a tight fit even for her small frame. The floor is definitely out of the question for either one of them. Walking around all day with aching backs isn’t going to help anyone.

  Amber takes a deep breath. This is a big deal.

  She’s worked for this man for five years, and yes, there’s a messy overflow of emotions that are confusing her at the moment, but she’s enough of a professional that she can put those feeling aside for two nights. Two nights is nothing in the grand scheme of things!

  They both need the back support the mattress can offer them, right? They’ll get a comfortable night’s sleep on the same mattress, under the same covers, with only a foot or so between them. No big deal. She’s not at all trying to make excuses for why getting in bed with this man is completely unavoidable and the best decision she could possibly make given the circumstances.

  It’ll be fine. She’s fine. She’s an adult.

  “Don’t sleep on the floor,” she argues. “That’s ridiculous. We’re adults, we can sleep in the same bed.”

  A blazing heat consumes his gaze before he’s able to blink it away. Okay, maybe this is a terrible idea after all.

  She just has to remind herself: maybe one day he really will be the kind of guy who has a fling with his secretary. This is the world he grew up in, the way his social circle has operated his whole life. He used to have a different woman on his arm every night. This is more for her than it could ever possibly be for him. She needs to repeat this to herself over and over again before she gets swept away by her fanciful ideas of what kind of life they could have together. One where they spend hours in a car on their way to a gorgeous hotel for a long, romantic weekend. One where the idea of sleeping (or not sleeping) next to him doesn’t fill her with equal parts dread and hope.

  They unpack their clothes and hang them up in the closet to work out the wrinkles. Amber definitely doesn’t look at them together, on opposite sides, like one belongs to him and one to her, a shared space in a shared apartment that both of them call home.

  Chase lives in a world of prenups, second and third wives, and secretaries on the side. If she follows her heart, she’ll wind up like her Mom and Sasha, heartbroken and living on someone else’s sofa.

  It’s important that she remembers this.

  She has to.

  Chapter Eight

  As the sun sets, everyone moves out of the conservatory and onto the house’s back patio. The men congregate on one side, and the women on the other. The view is beautiful; Amber was right to admire the lake on the property. It’s massive, and vivid oranges and reds streak across the rippling water at this late hour.

  Before tonight, Chase had only met most of the attendees in passing. It’s nice to sit down and get to know each other better, to get some insights from each other as they talk shop.

  Every once in a while, he looks over to check in on Amber. She’s off with all the wives, talking about who knows what over there. He hadn’t even been able to give Amber a clue to prepare her for what they’d do, because she’s the first woman he’s ever brought to something like this.

  Even though this trip is strictly professional, he tries not to look too closely at what that means.

  There’s a lot of laughter coming from that side of the room. Sometimes she’s the one laughing, sometimes she’s the one making them laugh. Amber’s a social butterfly, always ready to adapt to whatever environment she’s in. Occasionally he catches a smile that doesn’t really reach her eyes, but she seems like she’s having a good time for the most part. He’s considered going over there and rescuing her a few times, but he needs to get as much face time with Pearson as he can this weekend.

  Amber meets his eyes as she takes a sip of her drink. Chase winks at her in solidarity, sending a little bit of friendliness her way in this sea of strangers. Chase is used to working events like this, and Amber’s been to her share of them throughout the years too. But they’ve never been to a place like this together, where the setting is so intimate and the group so small that it’s almost impossible to slip away for a few minutes and get a break without someone noticing.

  “I’m surprised you brought her,” Pearson says, swirling his whiskey in his tumbler. “You seem reckless with your personal life, but I thought you were a smart enough businessman to not shit where you eat.”

  Chase bristles at the reference to anything involving Amber being shit. He takes a sip of his drink to settle his mind and keep him from saying something he knows he’ll regret. He doesn’t want to piss Pearson off, but if he didn’t believe this deal was necessary for Jentech, Chase would have Pearson laid out on t
he ground in five seconds flat.

  He itches to knock him out anyway, his knuckles burn as he clenches his fist.

  “I understand that you have some issues with me personally, Michael, but leave Amber out of it. To be quite frank, our relationship isn’t any of your business. No matter what you think of me, Amber has always been kind to you and treated you and Janice with respect. I expect you to treat her the same way.”

  Pearson looks maddeningly impressed with Chase.

  The impulse to punch is still going strong.

  “I’ll be honest; I expected you to keep your mouth shut considering how desperately you need my help. I’m impressed,” he says sarcastically, to indicate he’s definitely not impressed.

  No sense in keeping it all in now. He’s got to lay his cards out.

  “I’d like your help because I’m invested in the smart wearables, but I don’t know what kind of future that investment has if I can’t show that I’m taking the security vulnerabilities seriously. Our personal issues aside, I know that Pearson has an impeccable reputation, as does Jentech.”

  Michael lets out a derisive snort, but Chase ignores it.

  “I’m aware that nothing could speak more highly of my product than your willingness to associate with it. You’ve had products—immensely successful products—that have had a few stumbles in their early days, you know what this is like. The vulnerability wasn’t due to any gross negligence on our part. This happens all the time, and you know it. I’m just getting singled out because I’m the new kid on the block in this particular area, and the vulnerability was discovered by a kid who’s a hacking genius at a well-publicized event. I’m committed to excellence. I’m committed to making sure this doesn’t happen again. That’s why I want to partner with your company.

  “And you can hold that over my head if you want to, I won’t stop you. But you will respect Amber. You and I both know that you might have me over a barrel with these smart wearables, but I can mess with your life in ways you can’t even dream about. I want to keep this civil, I want to win you over without threats. Amber is off limits, you got that?”