Christmas Billionaire Read online

  “Did he kiss you?” she asked, almost as though the words were about to burst out of her.

  “No.”

  “No action at all?” she sounded as though she didn’t believe me.

  “Nothing…not that I offered anyway.”

  “I know, you’re such a prude,” Laura teased.

  “God, it was the first date, and I wasn’t going to sleep with him so that he might feel guilty and call me again.”

  She laughed, as though she knew something that I didn’t.

  “Wow, you really don’t have a high opinion of yourself, do you?” she looked concerned as she stared at me with wide, slightly troubled eyes. “Listen,” she added before I could say anything, “a guy like Dex isn’t going to try to take you to dinner and actually have a good time with you if he is just trying to get you to do something for him. Especially if he didn’t try to sleep with you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, if he seduced you, then it would be a blackmail fuck. He’d make you have something to lose if you told anyone.”

  “Dexter’s not like that,” I retorted, “I don’t think he would do something like that.” Her hard stare made me reconsider my opinion though, and I amended my comment, “Okay, fine. Maybe he would, but I don’t think he’d do that to me.”

  “Why not? You haven’t seen one another in years. Sorry to tell you but while you might still think you have a tight friendship, the Dexter you grew up with and the Dexter you went on a date with are not the same person.”

  I understood what she was saying; I refused to believe that he had completely changed. However, I wasn’t about to tell her that.

  Instead, I let out a long breath and shook my head, trying to get away from the subject entirely.

  “It’s probably for the best, anyway. I haven’t heard anything from him, and besides, I can’t tell my dad about us being together, and we have to be careful where we go. It would never work out anyway.”

  When it appeared I might have an escape from this menacing conversation, I heard my phone ding.

  I checked it and was unable to hide the obvious expression that crossed my features.

  “Speak of the devil?” Laura asked in a cool fashion, as though she didn’t even need to have an answer to know that she was right.

  “Something like that,” I told her.

  “What does it say?”

  “He wants to know if I want to go on a date tomorrow night,” I told her, unsure of how I wanted to proceed.

  I heard her snicker slightly, but when I looked up, she was giving me a snarky, told you so look.

  I narrowed my eyes at her.

  “This doesn’t mean anything. What were you just saying about the kind of man he is?”

  “No. If he was being the kind of man I warned you he was capable of being, he would have wined and dined you until you were too guilty to even remember being with him and then ghosted you. He wouldn’t have asked for a second date.”

  “So…I’m guessing that means that you think I should go?”

  “Hell yes, I think you should go!” she burst out, “And we are going to get you a dress!”

  “We’re gonna do what, now? I don’t need a dress!” I insisted.

  “Believe me, you do,” Laura insisted, walking closer to me to stand over my shoulder. After reading the text, she nodded as though agreeing with her own thoughts, “Alright, so…we’re going to get in the car and drive to the mall. When we get to the mall, you’re going to text him back, so he doesn’t think you’re lonely, waiting by the phone to hear from him. You’ve got to prove you have a life.”

  I rolled my eyes as I started to type a response.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Being myself, Laura. I got his text. I’ll text him back because I can, not because I’m desperate. Besides, he’s a busy man. I want to let him know that I want to go before he makes other plans.”

  She shook her head but didn’t comment any further as I told him I would love to go to dinner with him.

  He texted back almost immediately that would be great and that he would pick me up at seven.

  I had to admit that I felt good. I had wanted to hear from him, and now that I had, I couldn’t wait to see him again.

  I wondered if he had thought about me as much as I had thought about him but decided not to voice that to Laura.

  “Alright, well, will you at least let me help you pick out something to wear?”

  Feeling encouraged by Dexter’s seemingly eager response, I was renewed and excited.

  “Sure! Why not?”

  With that, Laura practically dragged me out the door toward the car.

  When we got to the mall, Laura went through every aisle hastily, as though she were running a marathon, picking out some of the weirdest dresses and outfits I had ever seen.

  I, on the other hand, wanted to enjoy the shopping experience and browsed the racks calmly, frequenting the sales racks.

  “Girl, what are you doing?” Laura demanded, coming back with a whole closet of clothes, apparently for me to try on, “No, no, no! You do not go on a hot second date with a man you’ve had feelings for since before you knew what those feelings were in a dress you bought off the clearance rack.”

  “Why not?” I demanded, unable to help sounding somewhat insulted.

  “Because, the whole reason they’re on the clearance rack to begin with is because they were too ugly for anyone in their right mind to pay full price for.”

  “I’m a bargain shopper, Laura; you know this.”

  “Not when you’re trying to impress someone like Dexter,” she insisted, shoveling her hoard of clothes in my direction, “Here; try these on and tell me these don’t make you feel like a woman way more than those thrifty rags.”

  I frowned and shoved the pile against a nearby rack so that I could go through it. I picked out everything that I liked and stubbornly took a few clothes that I found from my searching, to Laura’s dismay.

  The first few dresses I tried on were not me. There was barely anything to them, and I didn’t feel right leaving the dressing room in them, let alone going out to dinner.

  So, I picked a dress that I liked from the bargain pile but Laura quickly shut it down, saying that unless he had a thing for frumpy Catholic schoolgirls, it wouldn’t work.

  “Really? Frumpy?” I groaned.

  “Please. Go change,” she insisted, and when I begrudgingly returned to the dressing room, insulted but nonetheless enlightened by her perspective, I had to admit she had a point.

  Therefore, I went back to her pile and searched for a dress that had at least a good ratio of skin to fabric, trying it on but still blushing before I even unlocked the door.

  With Laura’s confidence, she could pull dresses like this off, but while there was nothing wrong with the way I looked, I was far more conservative than my best friend. While she had always been the spontaneous, fearless one; I balanced our friendship out by being the voice of reason.

  Unfortunately, that voice of reason did nothing for the next few dresses I tried on, from either pile.

  Yet, when I hadn’t emerged in a while, there was a knock on the door.

  “Mazie, it’s just me. I took a walk and found this…I think you might like it,” Laura said without even a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

  I told her to throw it over the door, and when she did, I was immediately drawn to it.

  It was black and sleek, sensual and feminine, but it had an air of sophistication that I liked.

  Instead of going through any more of my dress options, I decided to skip to this one.

  I was curious about how it would fit.

  I slid it on and up, noticing the cleavage and the slit up the side, but I wasn’t drawn away from it.

  In fact, I liked how it hugged my body and showed off the best parts of my femininity.

  It was nice; easy to wear and exponentially comfortable.

  Yet, it was nothing like what I was used
to wearing, and that was blatantly obvious.

  Fortunately, the more I looked at myself in the mirror, the more in tune with the dress I became. Instead of shying away from my womanliness, the fit of this dress helped me to embrace it.

  “Well?” I heard Laura yell eventually from right outside the door and I took a deep breath, hoping that she thought the same way about the dress as I did.

  In my mind, it was perfect, and I didn’t want Laura to cast any doubt.

  I opened the door and watched as Laura backed away, her eyes gliding over me easily.

  I felt as though I was being judged, but remained still and firm, trying to look confident.

  Finally, after a long, agonizing wait, Laura’s eyes grew wide, and she grinned.

  “Oh my God! It’s perfect!” she exclaimed, and I felt like jumping for joy.

  “I know. I thought so too!”

  “See?” she retorted smugly, “I know what I’m talking about.”

  I rolled my eyes as I turned to return to the dressing room.

  As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Laura was right. She had found the perfect dress, and I couldn’t wait to show Dexter!

  However, after we drove home and Laura left, I started to have second thoughts.

  So, I pulled up the dress and held it against my body, drawing in a deep breath as I brought it to the mirror and studied my reflection.

  Although the quick show of the dress didn’t nearly do it the justice it deserved, the way I looked with it on stuck in my head.

  I didn’t think I had ever found a dress that fit me so well and yet, as I remembered the price tag and the time I had spent, nearly an entire day, to get ready for this date, I couldn’t help but wonder…why?

  After everything that had happened and the difficulty of us dating, it was hard to imagine why Dexter would want to try to work it out.

  He could have any girl he wanted; I was certain of that. He had money, power, and excitement where I, on the other hand, was basically a leper to his social crowd. No one, including his parents, understood my decision to give up the money and the power to become a teacher.

  I knew that every time I came up, among the wives in our family’s social circles especially, I was deemed strange and beyond their scope of comprehension.

  Therefore, despite all the family dynamics that would have to be maneuvered in order to even date openly, should it get that far, he would be dating social pariah.

  I was certain the only reason I received any respect in their company was due to my father’s influence, and that was shallow at best. With Dexter’s social standing and the expectation that he would one day take over his father’s portion of the company, I couldn’t understand why he would be interested in dating me.

  Looking at the mirror again and noticing how out of place I looked, even simply holding the dress up to me, I genuinely regretted agreeing to a second date.

  After all, I thought, what would a guy like Dexter want with a girl like me?

  Chapter 15

  Dexter

  I had spent most the day getting ready for the date; if not physically, I had done my best to prepare myself mentally.

  Yet, for the past hour, I had been working on my outfit and grooming. I had no idea what was wrong with me but it all boiled down to the nervousness that I felt, bellowing in the pit of my stomach.

  As I straightened my tie and fixed my hair, my mind wandered back to the last time I had felt this overwhelming sense of nervousness.

  It was the first time I had given a presentation for my father’s company. After all, there wasn’t much else that usually bothered me. I had the confidence to do whatever I pleased and the funds to buy whatever I needed. Therefore, if the bank account was still healthy and well-fed, so was I.

  That day, though, I worried about everything, fretted over putting every hair in its place and straightening every portion of my suit until I looked more like a billboard than a man.

  Little did I know I would have a natural talent for these presentations and it would soon become fun to me instead of nerve-wracking.

  Eventually, it was a game, which was why I was so confident about getting Mr. Wilson to sign the deal. Aside from solely putting my blood, sweat, and tears into this damned thing, I had done it enough to know when I was winning and I was most assuredly winning with Mr. Wilson.

  With Mazie, however, I wasn’t so sure.

  While she might have agreed to have another date, that didn’t mean that she was actually into me. She could be having fun and or she could be unsure.

  Staring at myself in the mirror, debating whether to bring flowers, I realized how I was acting and how dumb I was being.

  What the hell is wrong with me? I wondered, trying to shake the feeling of nervousness from my mind. She’s just a girl. Get it together.

  However, even as I tried to convince myself that Mazie was, in fact, just a girl, I knew it was a lie.

  Even though I wouldn’t admit it, deep down, I knew, from the moment I set eyes on her again on her father’s balcony during the party, that she still meant so much more to me than simply that of a girl.

  I’d had plenty of women. I’d loved and left a trail of broken hearts in the wake of my lust. There were plenty of women that I had flat out lied to, simply to add them as a notch in my belt, but with Mazie, it was different.

  Who the hell was I kidding? With Mazie, it had always been different.

  I had always wanted her, lusted after her, and even yearned for her, but everyone takes different paths in their life and the older I became, the more I realized that our paths couldn’t be farther apart.

  While we might have been forced into friendship, before either one of us could remember our adult years had caused a divide in our lives, peeling us apart. Thus, I never felt that it was appropriate to pursue her.

  However, when I saw her there, after two years, I had to say hello.

  I thought that was going to be the end of it though, probably for another two years, since we both had such hectic lives, but fate put us back together and I thought, why not?

  Looking in the mirror, trying to ensure that I looked my best for the date, I could think of a lot of reasons why not but I ignored them all.

  After standing up to my father yesterday, I felt different.

  It was almost as though I finally came to terms with what I had long since realized but never had the balls to act on: my father cannot control my life. I cannot continuously worry about the approval he never gives or the acceptance that I have earned but never once received.

  Of course, at work, there were certain things he could do, and I couldn’t say anything about. He was the boss, after all, and I had learned to respect that. Yet, in my personal life, regardless of who it was that I chose to date and hopefully chose to be with exclusively, was none of his damn business.

  It might have been slightly different if Mazie were involved in the company, but she wasn’t. She had no interest in it at all and therefore, keeping her off limits wasn’t fair.

  So, I sent the text yesterday with the intention to find out, once and for all if there was truly anything between us, or would the infatuation fizzle out.

  After twenty years of having something always bringing us back together, I didn’t think it would, but I thought two decades was high-time to get my shit together.

  I looked at my wristwatch, but before I was certain of the time, I knew instinctively that it was time to go.

  I always had a knack for knowing the right moment to do something, from pressing a client to leaving for a meeting to get there at exactly the right time.

  Right now, with the out of character nervousness that I was experiencing, all I could do was rely on the talents that I knew I possessed to get me through. By now, logical thought and normal practices were lost to me.

  Instead of the Aston Martin, which seemed to make Mazie a little uneasy when we were last together, I settled for a more conservative BMW and took my time driving to her h
ouse. I had left with plenty of time so that I could think and try to calm myself before arriving.

  However, I found myself, once I was on my way, simply wanting to get to her doorstep so that I could see her again.

  As I drove, I allowed my mind to travel, wondering what she would wear on the date tonight and what might possibly be underneath…

  Yet, when I pulled into the parking space in front of her building, I stopped, turned off the car, and took a deep breath in order to collect myself.

  Even though I would love to see her naked and feel her body press against mine as I kissed those perfectly formed lips, I didn’t want to go into this in a strictly sexual manner. If sex was a result of a passionate evening, I certainly wasn’t going to complain, but first, I wanted to get to know the woman Mazie had become.

  In addition, I was also preparing myself to be more open and honest with her.

  After all, I felt as though I owed that to her, at least. If I was serious about trying to make this relationship either work or run its course, I had to allow her to break down a few of my barriers.

  If anyone could, I was sure that Mazie would be the one to do it.

  When I arrived at her door, even though I had taken the elevator, my jumbled nerves made me feel as though I had run a mile.

  I paused before knocking, drew in another deep breath, and slowly released it, attempting to settle myself.

  When I was certain I was as calm as I was going to get, I knocked on the door and waited patiently for what seemed to be an eternity.

  In that time, a million different thoughts ran through my head. I wondered if I had the wrong apartment, the wrong time, or the wrong day, even though I was certain I wasn’t mistaken and yet, I couldn’t hear any movement behind the door.

  When I was almost running out of willpower, ready to rap on the door again, it finally opened, and of all the visions I had of Mazie in the way over here, none could compare to what I saw in her now.

  She was truly angelic, standing there with an innocent grin. However, my eyes immediately fixated on the form-fitting dress, with the slit up the side and perfectly pronounced cleavage that made me think of anything but innocence.