The Billionaire's Desire

  The Billionaire’s Desire

  Table of Contents

  The Billionaire’s Offer

  The Billionaire’s Heart

  The Billionaire’s Love

  The Billionaire’s Offer

  Vanessa listened to her car alarm beeping, signaling it had locked successfully, before she headed towards work. She scoured her environment for anything out of place, her mouth dry and palms sweaty. Her spine still tingled as though his eyes dissected her from within each shadow. Even after years of running, of diligently hiding, that resolute fear kept her sharp.

  Ready.

  Mike had left a scar like no other; running beneath her skin, it pierced and numbed her core in equal parts. At the tender age of nineteen, she had already learned the darker side of love. Jealousy and obsession had turned Mike from a sweet kid into a cruel man, and their love into boiling pot of pain and disappointment.

  Vanessa had almost learned too late not to blame herself for everything Mike did, for everything Mike broke, for every way Mike failed them both. But once she learned, after a too close call and a fractured skull, she finally found the strength to leave him.

  As alert as ever, with one hand on her cell phone, the other on a panic alarm in her deep coat pocket, her mouth watered when the oaky smell of good strong coffee came from a café she had not yet tried. She never went to same places, at the same times. It wasn’t clever to form habits when in hiding from crazy ex-boyfriends, so today, she thought, why not give this place a try, and entered The Cafe on the Corner.

  Waiting in line to be served, she stood behind several cool looking twenty-somethings, all giggling and chatting about nothing. Vanessa longed be so carefree.

  The song on the radio changed to Fleetwood Mac’s, ‘Think About Me.’ She used to love the band, but couldn’t listen to it anymore, and her breath caught in her throat when it reminded her of how Mike had cried and begged for her forgiveness at the hospital, after the beating that almost killed her, as he always did. She had pretended to forgive him on her return home, as she always use to. She had even allowed him to ‘make it up to her’ while recoiling beneath his amorous touch.

  Vanessa squeezed her eyes shut and breathed away the foul image, remembering instead, and with renewed elation, how right after that vile sweaty experience, while he had snored away, entwined in her white cotton sheets, in her beloved first apartment in suburban Illinois, she had crept into the dark night to begin her escape.

  Guilt for leaving him plagued her conscience—a harsh habit she would eventually break—but an odd mixture of fear and freedom had fuelled her determination to move beyond him along with all he had bestowed, and to forget about Mike and his punishments. Or, at least, to try.

  The servers were on a go-slow in the cafe, but unlike Starbucks staff, they smiled and appeared pleased to be there. People sat around on purple denim worn-in sofas, talking, sharing stories and giggles. In one corner, she found it difficult to take her eyes off two lovers holding hands with sinful secrets shining in their eyes.

  The place had a great vibe and Vanessa wondered if Danielle from work had ever visited. This reminded her and she said, “Shit!” under her breath. She had to get to work, to a job as a graphic designer for Jergan Property; one of the biggest companies in Hawaii. She loved it there, apart from Beth, her line manager, but getting to use skills she was proud of made up for that. Deciding she would take Beth an, ‘I’m sorry for being late,’ coffee too, she exhaled and hoped her five-minute delay would go unnoticed. It was rare for her to be late because she ran several miles every morning, taking different directions, chosen by the flick of a coin. By the time she got back, showered and ate breakfast, she had been awake more than two hours. Getting to work on time was rarely an issue. But she had been struck sleepless by the threat of nightmares last night, so she woke late and unrested.

  Shuffling her feet, willing those ahead of her to decide between a Cappuccino and Soy Latte, Vanessa thought she might have made this place a regular stop, but accepted that habits and routines were a fair trade off for safety.

  She had learned this the hard way after making her escape. She had enjoyed six months away from Mike and even began to relax: into a new life, into a new routine, but also into dangers she never dared imagine. She had presumed to feel safe, even a little positive about her future, but she had never considered how far Mike would go to get her back.

  She still experienced nightmares about that night in Chicago; posttraumatic something or other, they called it.

  * * *

  It had been around midnight one damp Saturday evening, after her shift ended at the Chicago diner where she worked to support herself, and to pay for her online courses in Photoshop and Illustrator. She studied while others partied and dated, preferring to stimulate her mind to her body.

  She left work and walked alone, to her car. On the way, her phone rang. It was her mum, Linda. “Hi, Mom. Listen,” said Vanessa. “Can I call you when I get in?”

  Ignoring her request, Linda asked, “You pass your test, Sweetheart?”

  Vanessa sighed while searching for car keys in her bag and her coat pockets, with her cell phone clinched between a cold cheek and stiff shoulder, “How on earth would I know that yet? I just took the test this morning and I’ve been working all day.”

  “Well, there’s no need to snap!” said Linda.

  Guilty, Vanessa groaned. “Sorry Mum, but seriously, it’s raining, it’s dark, and I’m tired. I need to get in the car and can’t do that until I find my damned keys, which is difficult to do while I’m on the phone to you.”

  “You’re outside … at night … alone?” asked Linda, shocked. “Well, for heaven’s sake girl, what are you doing talking to me? Get in the car and get yourself home.”

  Trying not to scream, Vanessa said, “K!” rang off and threw her phone in her bag. Just then, after finally putting her hands on the damned car keys, someone knocked her to the ground with a blow to the back of her head.

  Her head was still healing from the skull fracture inflicted by Mike only seven months before, so the impact of this fresh blow was harsh.

  Lying on the cold damp floor she saw through blurred vision as Mike, crying and cursing at her, smacked her about the body with his fists. “How could you leave me, you fucking bitch?” he pleaded, the stench of cheap liquor on his breath. Even then, her heart broke a little more for the loss of the boy she had fallen in love with once.

  Lungs of wind left her with each blow to her torso, despite trying to shield herself with her arms. Defenceless, all she could do was scream as loud as her airless lungs would allow, before it was too late. “Help! Someone, help!”

  Yes, that night, she might have paid the ultimate price for trying to forget all about the dark times with Mike, but when two guys heard her screams and tackled Mike, she escaped him once more. Only this time, she knew she would never make the mistake of forgetting about him, about the dangers of relaxing, of routine, of moving on, ever again.

  * * *

  Over the next five years, Vanessa ran from town to town, crossing the eastern seaboard in search of a place where Mike would never find her. In an effort to become invisible, she dyed her blonde hair a mid-brown colour, restyled her long flowing locks into a jaw length bob, wore dark brown contact lenses to conceal pale grey eyes, and lost most of her curves through hours of rigorous kick boxing training and daily running.

  She would be prepared for another attack.

  Living in ten different states during those years, Vanessa soon tired of being on the run, but knew she could not settle long enough for him to find her. Standing in an airport, feeling lost, frustrated and weary, she decided, quite on a whim, to change tactics completely.
Taking the first flight available, leaving in the next half hour, she flew to Hawaii; Mike had always been scared of flying, and it was as far away from the east coast as Vanessa could imagine while still staying in the States. She had earned and saved enough to cover the basics, but on top of the other expenses of someone in her position, a flight stretched her income, so she had no choice but to charge it to her credit card obtained illegally with her fake identity. She felt like thief, but knew she would pay it back once she got a job. She was, after all, a woman trying to survive as best she could.

  Once in Hawaii, she found and sublet an apartment in Honolulu, and soon began her job at the property investment firm, where in only five years it grew from a nonentity into one of the top 500 companies in the country. This immense success was of course aided by picking up properties for peanuts during the Global Financial Crisis.

  She had built some semblance of a life there and often wondered why she never flew away sooner. But Mike hated flying, so it made sense to move to a destination where he would have to take a flight to reach. Although money would always have been an issue before then, she would have saved quicker, harder, if the thought had entered her head.

  Thinking the Aloha State would be the last place Mike would look for her, she told herself she could finally settle in one place.

  She smiled at how she escaped and because it was her turn to order coffee she might still make it without being late. Plus, a cute guy walked in and clearly liked the look of her. He just stood there in the doorway, blocking other folks, blatantly looking at her.

  She looked into her eyes. What’s he looking at? thought Vanessa. Does he think he knows me? A friend of Mike’s, perhaps? Ignoring the awkward tension between them, praying he was an innocent stranger who would get the hint and get lost, she turned away from him and towards the counter.

  “Excuse me.” asked the stranger, hand on her upper arm.

  She pulled away from him, “What do you want? I mean, do we know each other?”

  “You’re not a regular here, are you? It’s just that I am and I’ve never seen you here before. I’d remember.”

  The guys behind the counter smiled, loving the story unfolding before them, unconcerned that it held up the line. Vanessa’s cheeks burned and feet itched to move. “Can I get two Americanos to take out please? Quickly would be great if it’s possible, I’m late.”

  The server shrugged then moved to fill her order. Vanessa’s heartbeat refused to let her ignore the guy to her left. “My first time here actually,” she said bluntly, her eyes glancing at the four walls, at the exit, but not at the guy’s great teeth.

  “Fancy joining me for that coffee?” he asked, getting Vanessa’s attention. “Spare a little time for me?”

  “No.” His shoulders sagged and she told herself not to care, not to notice how well his t-shirt fit him. But it had been years since … “I mean, I’m late for work. Sorry.”

  Hoping he might humbly retire to the sofa alone; after all, he had chatted up a girl in a queue who publically snubbed him. But nope. Instead he squared his shoulders and said, “Dinner then. I’m feeling brave. Are you?”

  The server winked at Vanessa when handing over her order and her change. Everyone’s a goddamn romantic in here, she thought, stepping past the guy. Before she left the café, she looked at him and said, “Guess I’m not as brave as you.”

  Several patrons and the guy all said, “Aw!” as the door closed behind her.

  Well, that was embarrassing, she thought, with a small smile, a flush growing on her cheeks.

  She made it to work with a minute to spare and although her ego had been massaged, she felt a little sad that she couldn’t just say yes for a change. There must be good men out there who wouldn’t dream of hurting her, who would prefer to dream of pleasing her. But she couldn’t take the chance. And anyway, what did she know about love and dating and men?

  Nope, Vanessa knew that things were only going well for her because of her rigid rules: she avoided routine, kept people at arm’s length, told no one her dirty little secrets, and most importantly, absolutely no boyfriends.

  Vanessa was helping create literature for potential tenants for the properties her company rented out. She was good at this kind of work, and was proud that she sought out and earned the qualifications necessary to do it well, in spite of her turbulent life at the time.

  She got on with it for a few hours, absorbed within the creativity required, until a message popped up on her computer screen.

  Danielle: Come say hi, the bitch is out! And Jonathan’s always out.

  Vanessa: Coffee?

  Danielle: Make it green tea. I’m on a detox. Left some bags by the water heater.

  Vanessa enjoyed a somewhat new friendship with Danielle who works as a PA for the elusive company boss, Jonathan Jergan, mainly because she wouldn’t take no for an answer—ever, and because she lived with her boyfriend and didn’t pester her to go out all the time.

  “Here.” Vanessa placed Danielle’s green tea on her work station, away from the pile of paperwork she had scattered about, and sat, half-assed on the side of the desk, sipping her steaming coffee. “How do you drink that stuff?”

  Danielle grinned, “I put this in it.” She squeezed some honey into her mug and stirred before taking a sip of the hot liquid. “Yum. So, what’s up? Tell me you did something crazy over the weekend.”

  “You know me, training, running, sleeping. Watched a few movies, but nothing new.”

  “How is it that my life’s more interesting than yours and I’m a sad old wifey with … no life?”

  “You love Roy, you love your life.”

  Danielle blushed, “Yes, I do don’t I?” Smiling she added, “Which is why you need to get yourself a Roy, girlfriend.” She offered a diva gesture.

  Vanessa leered and shook her head, but kept her eye out for Beth—‘The Bitch’ and Vanessa’s boss—and relayed the coffee shop incident to her friend, to shut her up.

  “What did you say to him? Oh please tell me you’re going out with this guy … he sounds romantic, and so confident.”

  “Or just cocky? Arrogant? Nah, he’s not my type. Anyway, I have no time for all that crap, as you well know. You have enough romance in your life for the both of us.” Vanessa tried not to feel the aching gap in her heart.

  Danielle sighed, “Will no one ever be good enough for our lovely Vanessa? You’re not gay are you? Because that’s fine with me, unless you’re in love with me and then well, I’m taken.”

  They locked eyes and burst into fits of giggles.

  “It’s not that no one’s good enough, or that I’m gay. I’m just not like you; I don’t want to share my life like that,” she big fat lied, to them both.

  “Yeah, we all know that honey.” Danielle shook her head. “That’s the problem.”

  Vanessa took a gulp of coffee and said, “Hey, don’t make me reconsider our friendship by nagging. Not nagging is the one reason I love you.” Vanessa smiled softly at her pal then checked the hallway through the glass partition. “Shit, she’s back.” Vanessa noticed ‘Bitch’ Beth exiting the lift into the lobby and made her way to Vanessa’s desk. “Check you in another hour, for lunch.”

  “Cool.” said Danielle. “The Café on the Corner?”

  “Err, no. Think we’ll go somewhere normal, where no one speaks to each other. Shrimp truck by the beach?”

  “Boring, s’pose we haven’t been there in ages though. K. Later.”

  After lunch, where Danielle invited Vanessa to yet another friend’s wedding that she failed to wriggle out of, they both settled back into work. She had a meeting due with the creative staff, of which Vanessa was one. She enjoyed the respect her work earned her these days. Waitressing paid the bills, just about, but as physically demanding as the job could be, it never demanded admiration. When she knew it damn well should have done.

  While collecting samples together, ready to show off to her team, she noticed Beth heading straight for her.
Her stomach leapt and her chest tightened in preparation. It was always a complaint when Beth stopped by, never a compliment. Beth was young and in a senior position, and just that kind of control freak.

  “Vanessa,” summoned Beth, “I have allotted a timeslot for you to attend a meeting with Mr. Jonathan Jergen. Whatever he wants, you will give it. Do not show me up or let your team down. Do you understand?”

  Vanessa’s tongue swelled and slipped to the back of her throat. She spluttered a little and stood. “Mr. Jergen wants to see me?”

  “Are you having trouble hearing me?” Beth put a hand on her boney hip. “He’s not told me why—are you in any trouble?”

  “Well, I don’t think—“

  Beth spoke over Vanessa, “…he’s a busy person you know Vanessa. He does nothing without good reason. He hardly ever comes to this place, he’s so busy.” She leant towards Vanessa and lowered her voice, “Are you aware of anything I should know about?”

  “Absolutely not.” Vanessa lied, but worried that someone might have reported her frequent work-time chats with Danielle. Damn it, she thought. Please don’t fire me. I do my work; it is never late or shoddy. Please don’t fire me.

  Beth checked her watch and then compared it to the office clock behind Vanessa, looming above her head. Something she did every day, at least twice. “Well, whatever his reason, he’ll see you in ten minutes.” I’ll expect you to come straight back to your desk, or to the design meeting if you’re less than half an hour. I’ll be expecting an update about this. Do you understand?”

  “Of course. I’ll go now then shall I?”

  Beth sneered, “Yes. It wouldn’t do to keep his holiness waiting. Drop those samples of yours off on your way. The rest of us are still working, remember?”

  What's her problem, it’s not like she’s doing me a favour or anything?

  Vanessa grabbed her samples folder and moved swiftly on to the rest of the design team, leaving Beth to stare impatiently at the back of her head. She knew not being in the loop on this must be killing her. “Here, look at these and tell me what you think. I won’t be long, hopefully.”