The Hated Billionaire by Erica Frost

Chapter 10: Christina

I woke up the next morning to the smell of toast. I sniffed, not quite able to believe what I was smelling. I rolled over, memory instantly telling me where I was. I was in Brett Caden’s house.

I sat up in bed. It was soft and warm, the brown coverlet velvety-soft and pulled up around my shoulders. I looked around.

The bedroom was white-painted, I saw now, with white curtains and a thin dark line about the wall as an accent color – everything either white or chocolaty-dark. I looked at our clothes, strewn on the bed, on the floor and bedside-chair, and flushed scarlet.

Memories of the night – so passionate and intense – washed through me. I grinned.

My stomach growled as I got out of bed. I realized we hadn’t eaten anything – we had slept, and kissed, and slept again. I tiptoed to the shower. I was sure he wouldn’t mind if I had a shower before I went. I wondered what the time was and whether we were going to make it in time for work without notice.

I showered, hurrying to find my clothes. My underwear was discarded on the mat, my trousers left in one corner. I went red, remembering last night and how we had undressed with such urgency.

I dressed and tiptoed out of the room. I looked over and watched Brett Caden, CEO of one of the biggest magazine publication companies, carefully buttering whole wheat bread.

He seemed not to know I was there, but I bumped against the doorframe as I tiptoed forward.

“I made toast,” he said, his voice gentle. “I also have muesli if you would prefer. And nice milk. I always try to get the best products I can around here.”

“Sounds good,” I said. Tiptoeing across the thick carpet, I joined him in the kitchen. It was a masterpiece of black countertops and dark tiles. I loved it. I rested a hand on his arm. He looked up at me.

I felt my body tingle as he rested a hand on my shoulder. I could see longing in his eyes and my heart thudded as he stroked my hair.

“We should eat,” he said. “You didn’t eat anything last night. I’m worried about you.”

I chuckled. “You didn’t, either.”

“I did sneak in here and eat some bread,” he said with a grin, cheeks red. “Then I got back in beside you – I thought you should eat something to, but I didn’t think it would be right to wake you.”

I smiled. “I slept so well.”

“Me, too.”

I felt my heart tug, and this time it wasn’t just longing, but something much deeper. He looked so young, his shirt unbuttoned, his smile warm below messy hair. I wondered if he’d showered yet. I went to join him at the table.

“So,” he said, passing me a plate with some slices of toast on it. The toast was crisp and well-buttered, the butter spread across it properly, right up to the edges. I bit into a piece, and he chuckled. “I hope you’re going to have muesli as well…you didn’t have dinner and you need lots of energy.”

I nodded. “Sounds good.”

I had to admit I was hungry. I grinned to myself. I had never actually experienced anything like this before – the feeling of intense joy and fulfilment that I felt, just being with him.

“So,” he said, standing and fetching something from the sideboard. “I hope that you are going to discuss something with your boss today.”

I felt my brow raise. “I don’t want to think about work,” I said.

He chuckled. “No. I don’t blame you. You’re right. We shouldn’t be talking about work.”

He looked down, and I could see his cheeks reddening. He was so awkward this morning. I wanted to kiss him. I felt his hand move towards mine and I gently took it, my fingers tight on his.

“You have helped me so much,” I began carefully. He shook his head.

“You have nothing to thank me for. I thank you,” he said gently.

I looked into his eyes and then felt my own cheeks red with a flush as he tenderly stroked my hair back behind one ear. I felt that same ache in my heart.

We ate breakfast in silence.

I washed the dishes after we had finished, and I heard him go through to the bedroom. I thought he was going to shower – I didn’t think he had yet. It was so sweet of him to make breakfast first, I thought. I rinsed the bowls and cups, listening to the sounds of him in the shower.

I smiled to myself. I had never actually felt like this about anyone. I couldn’t quite believe that I really felt this way for him – but, then, I had seen another side of him when he comforted me so sweetly; though I thought that I had seen that side before, when we had talked in the hallway, for example.

I just hadn’t acknowledged its truth.

I dried my hands on the towel. It was eight a.m. and, depending on the traffic, we would definitely make it on time. He came out of the bedroom. He was wearing casual trousers and a white shirt, a blazer thrown casually over his shoulder in a black that matched the trousers. I felt my body light up.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go to work.”

I felt my heart thump as I followed him down the stairs. I didn’t know what our colleagues would think if they saw us arrive together. He seemed unworried, but I couldn’t help expressing some doubts.

“What will everyone think?” I asked.

He frowned. “What do you think they’ll think?” He shrugged. “They can speculate as much as they want, about us.”

I went red. “Brett,” I said. I felt my throat tighten. “I don’t want people to say things about us. I don’t want to think of what the people in the office would say if they thought I’d…done that.”

He looked confused. “Well, okay. But I am not letting you walk to work. At least let me take you as far as the store. Just that.”

“Okay,” I said. I took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure about anything anymore. I didn’t know how I felt, how he felt, or what anyone would think. I needed to think clearly. I followed him down the stairs to his car. I got in, feeling uncomfortable.

“We’ll be there early,” he said, looking at the clock. It was quarter past eight. I frowned. We would probably need more time, if the traffic was bad. As it happened, though, he was right. It was much clearer than it usually was when I drove to work.

We didn’t say much as we drove. I commented on the traffic. He explained that it had cleared. We drove through the town. On the one hand, I was wishing we would hurry, so that none of our colleagues would see us in the car. But also, I liked it in here. I liked the scent of his cologne, his voice as he talked. I liked being here with him.

I watched the downtown area come into sight. We had been in the car for a few minutes, but I felt like he was deliberately not making conversation and so I stayed still, not wanting to disturb him or to say or do anything that he wouldn’t be comfortable with. I sensed that he didn’t want to talk for some or other reason.

We drove along through the street. I could see the store now – the shopping mall that was just round the corner from the big high-rise where we worked. I felt my heart thump and glanced over the street as the light changed. I didn’t know how we were going to do this, but this seemed like a good chance.

“Shall I get out?” I asked.

He looked across at me. It was so hard to read his expression. It could have been neutral, but there was a storm in his dark eyes, a sense of so many emotions I couldn’t discern.

He nodded. “If you like. I’ll unlock it.” He clicked a button and my door unlocked. I stepped out and into the street. I waved at him.

“See you at work,” I called.

He nodded, raising a hand. I wished I could understand the secrets in those dark eyes. They were too complex for me to read.

I wished I could understand what they meant.

I walked down the street, the image of his face at the forefront of my mind, again and again, no matter how much I tried to blank it out. I walked up the stairs and greeted the secretary at the front desk woodenly as I went through to sit at the desk in my office.

I couldn’t believe that I was sitting here, in my office, as though yesterday had been an ordinary day at the office.

My eyes scanned down the screen. I couldn’t recall half the stuff I wrote yesterday. Some of it made sense. It was good. I read through my own work, feeling impressed. I had gotten about a quarter of the way through, which meant that if I really worked hard today, I could get it done by the end of the workday.

I bent over my keyboard and started work slowly.

I tried to focus, but the figures swam in front of my eyes and I kept on thinking of Brett and me. I recalled his face close to mine, his eyes shut, the sound of how he spoke; so soft and low, his voice loving as he talked to me.

I took a deep breath. He had been so caring last night! I would never have imagined him capable of such sweetness. But then, I would never have imagined what had happened.

I focused on the screen, trying to think about work. Images of Brett filled my mind – his gorgeous body, his handsome mouth. I tried so hard to think about values and investments and I think, to some extent, I managed.

By the time it was lunchtime, my focus was absolute. I had been working solidly for about two hours when I heard someone coughing. I looked up to find my boss in the doorway. I tensed.

“How is it, Christina?”

“It’s fine,” I said. I looked at him wearily. I hoped he could see how exhausted I was. I thought he looked uncomfortable, and I was quite pleased about that.

“Look, I know it’s a lot of work,” he said carefully. “I wouldn’t have entrusted it to anybody else.”

“Yeah,” I said. I hoped he could hear the anger in my voice. “I know.”

He had threatened me, or I wouldn’t have agreed to do this. And I wanted him to know that I hadn’t forgiven him for it, and that I was unlikely to. I was angry.

“Christina, let me know if you need anything, okay?” he said.

“Yeah,” I said.

I didn’t say anything else, but went across the room to get one of my files out of the cupboard. Somewhere in there, I had written down my part of the calculations. Burgess left, and I got on with my work.

I worked through lunchtime, and by two o’ clock I was lightheaded with hunger. I went wandering out of my office and into the coffee-room. There was a fridge there and a machine with candy. I really needed something to eat – anything, really. I just needed to raise my blood sugar before I fell over.

“Christina!” Neela greeted me as I came out of the coffee-room, a sandwich in my hand. “Hey! How’re you?”

“I’m fine,” I said. I swallowed a bite of my sandwich. “I’m just working quite hard today.”

“Yeah, okay,” Neela nodded. Then she looked at me carefully. “Christina? Something’s made you smile.”

“What?” I blushed. Was it that obvious? I might have a hectic workload, but I had been smiling more today than I think I had smiled in a week before today. I just hadn’t known that it was so apparent.

“Nothing…just that you look different,” Neela said. “Happier. I guess maybe I’m just imagining it, seeing as you say that you’re really working.”

“Well, I am happy,” I said carefully. “No reason someone can’t work hard and be happy, is there?”

Neela frowned at me. She smiled, a slow smile that suggested that even if I was crazy she still loved me. She shrugged. “Well, no, I guess not,” she said. “You look after yourself though, Christina.”

“I will,” I said. I gestured with the sandwich, the drooping lettuce hanging out of the sides unconvincingly. I suppose, as lunches go, it didn’t exactly look like I was practicing self-care.

“I’ll see you later,” Neela called over her shoulder as she went up the hallway. She ignored the sandwich; a sensible course of action, I thought. “I’ll be passing this way in a couple of hours to deliver some stuff to the technical guys.” She gestured to some forms in her hand.

I nodded to her. “I will hopefully be finished by the end of today, and then maybe we can talk properly,” I promised. At least, I would try and be finished by then. I had no idea if I would actually manage it, and, by this stage, I didn’t really feel any responsibility to do so.

“Awesome. Can’t wait!”

I nodded and she hurried off, going back up the hallway to her own office at the end of the corridor. I went in and sat down at my desk. I was exhausted. I had decided that I wasn’t going to focus on getting it done, but instead I was going to focus on doing my best.

I opened the spreadsheet and moved to the next column. I was explaining things one column at a time, more or less. I opened the document where I was writing the report and set to work. I only had a few more hours and I reckoned I was slightly more than halfway. Not too bad. Having spoken to Neela had raised my spirits a bit, I had to admit – to say nothing of what the previous night had done, despite being confusing.

I tried to focus on numbers and letters when all I could think about was Brett, and smile as I thought about how obvious it had been to Neela that I had a good time last night.