The Hated Billionaire by Erica Frost

Chapter 19: Christina

I was standing in a shop in the mall when my phone went. I was dressed for work – nice white silky blouse, black slacks, high heels – and people were looking at me strangely. I wanted to say that I meant to go to work this morning. The small problem was that, when I got there, someone was waiting for me.

I still felt sick.

I had walked up the stairs after parking my car, and there he was. Bold as brass, not even bothering to get out of the way of people who were hurrying past him into the big front doors. He was wearing a stained hoodie and trousers and he’d looked exactly like he had when I was young – angry, entitled and needy, all at once. I’d panicked and run.

My feet gave out after a hundred meters down the sidewalk, and I’d run into the mall – crowded spaces are the safest spaces. It was something I’d learned early on. Disappearing into a crowd could save your life. I’d spent the last three hours wandering around the mall, trying to figure out a strategy to get my car back and get home. I’d called in sick at work – I wasn’t going back there today. I remembered that my phone had buzzed and I wondered if it was Neela, looking for me.

I pulled my phone out. It was a message from Brett. I stepped out of the way of a lady with an armful of clothing and went around the corner to read it.

Hey Christina. I saw you weren’t at work. I hope you’re okay.

I let out a sigh. He had noticed I wasn’t there, and I felt bad because I was skipping work for no good reason. He sounded worried – I knew him well enough by now to know that he didn’t tend to express emotions like worry or fear. The very terseness of it suggested to me that he was upset. I hastily wrote a reply.

Sorry, Brett…I couldn’t come in today. I’m fine.

I sent the message and then as the sales assistant came over, I pretended to be absorbed in feeling the quality of a suede blazer.

“We have them in all sizes.” She was a young woman wearing a black uniform with thick makeup and an earnest smile.

“Thanks,” I said.

I pretended to contemplate the blazers a bit longer, just until she had gone over to the front of the store. Then I walked out and went to find another place to think. My feet took me to a café. I ordered a coffee and sat down to contemplate what I could do.

I had two options. Either I could hide out here until lunchtime, when I could call Neela and ask her to help. Or I could risk going back to work to get my car, and driving to my apartment.

The first option felt a lot nicer, except that I had work I desperately needed to do. I could stay here in the café for another three hours and work, ordering coffee on a regular basis until lunchtime, I guessed – but it would be good to go home. I just didn’t know if I could face seeing my father again.

“Someone would have moved him on,” I told myself firmly. There was no way security was going to let anyone hang around outside the doors for hours without at least asking them what they were doing there. I had to at least check if he was still there.

I took a deep breath, called the waiter over and paid for my coffee. I would walk over to my office and check out what was going on.

As I went to the ground floor, my phone rang. It was Neela.

“Hi!” I greeted breathlessly. “How’s everything?”

“I just went past your office to chat. I noticed you weren’t there. Is something up?” She sounded concerned.

I swallowed hard. “I’m fine. Actually, I’m at the mall – near where we go to have lunch. Maybe you could come and chat at lunchtime?” I checked the time on the clock across the room – it was eleven a.m. I could work here for another hour before going across to our usual café for lunch.

“Um, sure, Christina,” Neela agreed. “I’ll be over there at half past twelve.”

“Great,” I replied.

I wondered, afterwards, why I’d done that.

I guess everybody should know when they can’t take on something alone – that’s a mature thing to be able to do, to ask for help. I couldn’t take this on alone and it was time I acknowledged that. It was time I told somebody what was going on in my life.

I worked on the budget for an hour and then paid for the two coffees I’d ordered during that time, packing my things away and going to the café across the street. I went to our table at the back and, after half an hour – during which I worked and ordered water – Neela came in.

“Hey!” she greeted me, a big smile on her face. She was wearing bright red lipstick and a gorgeous black-and-white pants suit that looked stunning on her angular form. She sat down opposite me. “Great to see you. I guess I should order something.”

“I haven’t ordered lunch either,” I said with a smile. “So good to see you, Neela. I guess I have a lot of explaining to do,” I added, feeling bad.

“Not at all,” Neela said. “Hell, Christina! I’m your friend. You don’t owe me anything.”

I felt an ache in my heart. Nobody had ever told me that – nobody besides Brett, weirdly, had ever made me feel that comfortable, as if I was enough in myself. I took a deep breath, smiling at her. “Thanks,” I said.

We ordered our usual sandwiches, and I tried to think of what to say, how to tell her my story. At the end of a few minutes, I launched straight in.

“I came from a pretty rough background,” I began. “I grew up on the wrong side of town, in the best apartment my father could afford by then, which wasn’t great. He was…well, he was addicted to gambling. Probably still is. He kept on thinking he’d hit a big win and make all the money back.” I sniffed, remembering how angry that used to make me, the emotion still raw and burning inside. “I remember how he used to come back late at night, roaring drunk, shouting and talking loudly with his friends. And how if I did anything – if I sneezed, for pity’s sake – there could be hell on earth. He’d lose it completely, shouting and swearing at me.”

My friend just looked at me, eyes full of tenderness.

“I finally got away from there when I was fifteen. My uncle Hal paid for me to go to high school in another town. I boarded there and only saw my father sometimes after that. Throughout college the one thing I dreaded – worse than exams, worse than anything – was when he would come and visit. It always happened unexpectedly. He’d turn up and usually try to get stuff out of me – money, information. I had almost no allowance – I relied on my housemates to feed me. I worked for years to pay off my college debt, and I never got a chance to pay back my uncle.”

I was sobbing now, tears running down my cheeks. I was aware that we were surrounded by people, but I couldn’t hold back. I sniffed, dabbing my face with a paper napkin. Neela reached out and took my hand.

“I’m so sorry, Christina,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

I sniffed again, taking a deep breath. “You didn’t do anything,” I said, smiling at her and drying off my tears. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

She smiled. “I do – I am sorry that I wasn’t available for you to tell me before, that I didn’t act like someone you could trust.”

I shook my head. “Neela, that isn’t your fault. I learned not to trust. It’s not your fault that it didn’t occur to me to trust you.”

She nodded, but I could see how emotional she felt. “I guess,” she said carefully. “Anyhow. I’m so glad you told me now. Shall we order dessert?”

I chuckled. “That sounds like a great plan. I could do with something more to eat.”

We finished our lunch in companionable quiet.

“My father is the person who’s stalking me,” I said as we finished our coffees. “That’s why I’m so frightened and why I can’t say anything. No matter how vile he was, I don’t want him going to jail.”

Neela looked at me compassionately. “Christina, I understand,” she said gently. “If there’s anything I can do – like maybe talking to him on the phone next time he calls – just tell me.”

I nodded slowly. “That’s really kind of you, Neela,” I said gently. “But I couldn’t possibly lay that on you.”

She just smiled kindly and I knew that she would do her best to help me. I just couldn’t expose her to his lying manipulations. I would feel like I was putting myself at his mercy, letting him contact my only friends.

We finished lunch and I paid the bill – it was the least I could do. Neela gave me a hug as we went out through the door into the street. I held tightly onto her, the caring gesture bringing tears to my eyes again. I was feeling so emotional! I squeezed her hard and looked up at her, blinking back tears.

“I’ll walk back with you,” I said. “I might as well get my car.”

Neela nodded, grinning at me. “Good idea. And if we see that guy, we’ll sort him out.”

I grinned back. I couldn’t imagine what we – as two slim, smartly-dressed businesswomen – were going to do about it, but then again I was sure that the pair of us could take on almost anything together.

It felt good having someone to get my back.

We walked up to the building and I let out a sigh of relief. He’d gone! I felt weak with the sudden drop in my tension levels. I looked up at Neela, who had stopped on the sidewalk to wait with me while I took stock of the front step.

“He’s gone,” I said. Even I could hear the sound of deep relief in my voice. “I’ll get the car and drive back to my apartment. I think I can spend the night there by myself tonight.” I sounded confident.

“Are you sure?” Neela asked, concerned.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I said. I was amazed by how strong I felt. “If he tries anything funny, I really will call the cops. He would have asked for it if he actually threatens me.”

“That’s quite right,” Neela agreed. “You have no need to be scared.”

“Thanks.”

I gave her a quick hug, then waved as I hurried around to the car-park. She went off up the stairs and I stepped quickly around the side of the building towards where I’d parked. I looked about quickly – there was nobody here waiting for me. I found my car, still where I’d left it this morning, and unlocked it, then drove swiftly out the gate and towards my apartment.

I was amazed by how much lighter I felt, since I’d confided my story to somebody. She had received it so kindly, with no judgment and no speculation – she’d just let me talk until my heart was freer. I slowed down at the stoplight and waited, and I was surprised by how excited I felt about getting back to my own home. It would be so good to sleep in a bed, and be able to cook my own dinner! Not that I hadn’t loved staying with Neela – it would just feel good to be independent.

I drove around the corner, and my mind wandered to Brett. I couldn’t decide what I should tell him. I reckoned it was best to leave him thinking I was sick – we didn’t know each other so well yet and I couldn’t guess how he would receive my story. I would feel better if I could wait a while and get to know him better before I shared the story of my past with him.

I drove up to my apartment block and around the back. I would be pleased to sleep for a bit before I got down to the last bit of work I had to do for the day.