The Hated Billionaire by Erica Frost

Chapter 11: Christina

I finished the report just on time on Friday evening. I went to Burgess’s office to give it to him, my back stiff and my face schooled to calm. I was angry with him, but I couldn’t be that angry, since, after all, something really good had come out of that night.

“Here,” I said. “The report. I sent you a copy, but here is a hard copy too.” I put the freshly-printed sheets down on his desk. He raised a brow.

“Thanks, Christina. That was fast. I really owe you one.” He sounded sincere. He was already leafing through the pages, his brows raising as he looked at the columns of figures, the long explanations, the charts I’d made.

“Yes,” I said lightly. “That’s true. I’ll think of something.”

Burgess raised a brow. “That surprises me, Christina.” His eyes were wide and he looked a little affronted, as if I’d insulted him.

I felt a wash of annoyance at that. Had he really been planning to take advantage of my good nature? I was taking no more than my due, claiming a favor from him, but he didn’t expect that. He expected me to simply smile and say thank you and go back to my office. I put my head on one side.

“I am full of surprises, Mr. Burgess. Have a good weekend.”

I walked out of his office, leaving him looking after me with a confused expression. I couldn’t help a chuckle. He was well and truly flummoxed by all that had changed about me. Leaning back in my office chair, I contemplated that. I was well and truly confused, too. I thought back over the events of yesterday night, my mouth lifting with a smile.

I had never felt like that before. In my previous relationships, I had never felt that connection, that wonderful feeling that I’d had last night that I couldn’t quite explain. I opened my eyes again, hastily sitting up as I heard someone going down the hallway.

“Good night, Christina. Have a good weekend.”

I smiled at the secretary from our department. “Thanks. You too.”

She waved and walked away, her shoes making a thump on the carpeting as she went down towards the stairs. I stood, sleepily gathering my things and packing them away. I was lost in a haze of thoughts. I didn’t know what would happen from now, but I weirdly wasn’t worried about it. A strange calmness had settled on my heart. I felt that whatever was going to happen, it was bound to be good.

I hadn’t really put any thought into what I expected to happen – if Brett talked to me, good; if he just forgot about it, I reckoned that would also be fine. After all, we were adults and I had no idea what he was really like – if he chose to act like I was just his senior executive, I felt that was for the best as well.

“Weird,” I said aloud to myself. I had never felt like that before. My whole life had been shaped by the fears of my childhood – my fear that my dad would finally lose it and hurt me, my fear that we’d have no home and be out on the street. It was only when Uncle Hal had paid for me to go away to high school that I’d had even an inkling of relief, and even then I’d been terrified my dad would show up and find me. It was strange – so strange –without constant fear. I realized that yesterday night had been the first time someone had held me when I was frightened, had comforted me and told me I was safe and it was okay.

I picked up my handbag and went to the door. It was both wonderful and strange to be without constant fear – I felt a bit like I imagine a butterfly would. Discovering you have wings can be scary, and sometimes you think it was safer and more comfortable without them.

I was walking across to the printing-room to pick up some last documents when someone walked in, quite silently.

“Christina?”

I turned. I would recognize that voice anywhere. I found myself looking at Brett. He smiled, a slow, shy smile; one lip quirked downwards in what I was starting to learn was his embarrassed grin.

“Brett,” I said. I spoke softly, just in case any of the employees in the corridor were still here. It was six o’ clock, so I doubted it, but it was better to be safe. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled. “I wanted to check on you. How are you? Did you get that work finished?”

“Yes,” I said. I felt my stomach tense with nerves and excitement. Just being with him felt like a wash of cool seawater across my body – exciting.

“Good,” he said. He frowned. Came to stand a little closer. The tension – the sense of waiting – was so strong I could have reached out and touched it like the string on a guitar. “You feel okay this morning?”

“Yeah,” I said. I frowned up at him, feeling a grin tug my own lips. “I feel good, actually.”

He smiled and the brightness in his eyes showed that he knew exactly what I meant. “Good,” he said. “I slept beautifully.”

“Same.”

We grinned at each other, delighted to be sharing a secret. I felt my tummy tingle as he stepped closer. I ached for him, wanting his lips on mine, his touch on my skin, his hands on my waist as he drew me toward him. I knew it was dangerous – here in the printing-room, anybody could see us. He rested a hand on my shoulder, gently.

“Christina,” he murmured. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“Um…” I wet my lips, heart thumping. If I had expected him to say anything, the last thing I’d expected was that! He raised a brow, and I tried to get my thoughts into some kind of order where I could actually answer him. “Um, nothing,” I said honestly.

He grinned. “No meetings to prepare for?”

“Um, not really,” I said. My heart was beating crazily fast, my face flushed, my body hot. I tried to control my breathing. “I was just planning to relax and maybe prepare something for the budget meeting next week…” I gasped as he rested his hands on my shoulders, drawing me close.

“Well, then,” he said, looking into my eyes, his own eyes sparkling with interest. “If I may, I would like to visit you. Shall we say ten tomorrow morning?”

“Um, yeah,” I said. I was too shocked to think of anything else to say. Brett wanted to visit me? At my apartment? I tried to breathe.

“Great,” he said. He stepped closer, so close that his body was pressed to mine. Then, just as quickly, he stepped away. “Well, then. I’ll see you then. Will you text the details?”

“Um, sure.”

I waited until he had gone until I let out a long, slow breath. My brain was racing and I could hardly think.

I fetched the documents from the printer and went down to my car. I couldn’t believe it. I was going to see Brett tomorrow.

I drove back to my apartment and the first thing I did – after making myself some dinner, just some pasta to reheat – after putting on the washing-machine, was to clean. I tidied up the sitting-room, packed away clothes that had been lying around waiting to be put away, and swept the rooms. Then I showered and collapsed gratefully into bed for an early night.