Resisting the Billionaire Collection (25 page)

"He is not and the sooner you realize that,
the better. You and I both know that joker is just one
screwed-up order away from being homeless."

The two lapsed into an angry silence. Alison
took a nervous pull on her cigarette. MJ looked at her
disapprovingly.

"And when are you going to quit those things
as well?"

Alison stubbed out her cigarette and gave
her friend a guilty look.

"Well I can't argue with you about those.
I've picked a day and I'm going to do it. But look, MJ, I need a
favor."

"You know you only need to ask, Alison. What
is it?" The truth was that MJ really just wanted to help her friend
and couldn't bear to see her used up by men she considered selfish
dogs and hopeless cases. Alison was like her long-lost little
sister. She was an only child herself and apart from her senile
aged mother in a nursing home, she was alone in the world.

"I need another sub." She looked at the
ground, sheepishly.

"How much this time?"

"Two hundred bucks. Three hundred if you can
manage it."

"What's it for?"

"Look, can I just have the money without the
third degree?" 

"Alison, I can lend you money if you want,
it doesn't have to come out of your next pay check."

"I've borrowed enough money from you
already, MJ. I'd rather let Tête-á-Tête cover this one. Then I know
it’ll get paid back on time and I won't have to leave anyone
waiting."

"Tell me what it is, Alison. Please, just
let me help."

"It's for this month's rent. Happy now?"

"It's that asshole, isn't it? Brad. He's
come up short again?"

Alison had taken pity on Brad when he was
evicted from his last apartment and had nowhere to stay. She
couldn't bear the thought of her sweet, goofy colleague sleeping
under a bridge or on a park bench so she had allowed him to crash
on her sofa for a night or two. Then when her roommate moved back
to Seattle, she figured why not let Brad have the spare room? After
all, he had a steady job with Tête-á-Tête and earning about the
same money as her, maybe a little less, but still plenty to cover
his share of the rent. Within a week, the good-looking,
sweet-talking Brad was sharing her bed most nights while his room
rapidly took on the look of a stoner's trashcan.

He was so goofy, so cute,
and so helpless; just like a puppy dog but as MJ had predicted, he
was always,
always
, late with the rent. If he weren’t so thoughtful to her in
other ways, she would have thrown him out on the street months
ago.

MJ sighed.

"Don't worry, I'll sign for it. But when are
you ever going to learn?"

The two women stood close to the back
entrance of the café. The rain had stopped and the mid-morning sun
reflected brightly on pools of fresh New York rain. The untidy
back alley gleamed like a new world.

MJ stared at her friend's bowed head and her
heart sank when she saw the huge teardrop slowly roll down Alison's
soft cheek.

"Oh my God. Come here, baby." She said, her
voice full of emotion, and drew her friend to her. "Don't worry
baby, everything's going to be alright."

Chapter Two

Sebastian entered his luxurious Upper East Side
Manhattan condo and gave only a fleeting look at the spectacular
vista of midtown skyscrapers that his living room afforded.

"It’s Sebastian. Get me Jonas. Now."

He paced the floor while the call was
connected to the Drummond Corporation’s head of security.

"Jonas, it’s me. The girl’s name is Alison
Myers. She works at the Tête-á-Tête Café in Midtown Manhattan."

"What do you need, Mr. Drummond?"

"Twenty-four-seven surveillance. I want you
personally and bring your best guys. Find out where she lives.
There might be a guy called Brad hanging around. Blonde hair, slim
build, about 5’10". If he’s still there, let me know right
away."

"We’ll get right on it, Mr. Drummond."

"Thanks, Jonas. I appreciate it."

"Sebastian..."

He frowned. Although Jonas was on the
payroll, he had been with the company for years. Whenever he used
his first name it meant something personal and right now, personal
was not what he needed. He sighed.

"What is it, Jonas?"

"Your father wants to know when--"

"When I’m ready to come back?"

"Yeah. Well, among other things. It’s been
nearly a year now since--"

"I’ll come back when I’m ready Jonas. If I
ever am."

"Come on Sebastian, how long are you going
to beat yourself up over Melanie? And this crazy idea of pretending
to be poor--"

"Not poor, Jonas; just normal. It’s how
normal people live, how normal people meet, instead of at damn
society dinners, gala fundraisers, and exclusive golf clubs."

Almost a year ago to the day, he had lost
the woman he loved to his twin brother Alex. Since then, he had
vowed that he would behave differently with women. He had grown
accustomed to being gruff, almost crass, taking women when and how
he wanted them. Then when he had met Melanie and had feelings for
her that he had never had for a woman before, he went off the rails
by lying and cheating, ready to do anything just to have
her. 

And he had almost succeeded, but only by
pretending to be his older brother. He had come so close to having
her, she had reacted to him as though he were the love of her life
but as soon as she had realized her mistake, the illusion had been
shattered and he had become the villain of the piece. 

This time there would be no
mistakes. 

His brother was far, far away on the West
Coast, still with Melanie as far as he knew, although he had
gradually ceased almost all contact with them. He had moved to the
East Coast to put as much distance between himself and his former
life as possible. His billionaire status had helped him get laid
his whole life but never helped him fill his deeper need to have
someone for himself. He craved someone to take care of in every way
that mattered. A woman that would take away the need to have other
women in his life.

"I’ll be ready when I’m ready, Jonas."

He ended the call, went into his
ultra-modern kitchen, and took a cold beer from the tall
refrigerator. There was nothing else there, just one six pack of
Corona and not even a lime to push into the neck. He would have to
order out again if he got hungry, but he had no appetite.

Not since he had laid eyes on Alison.

He settled down on the sofa and looked out
at the twinkling lights of Manhattan.

He woke the next day to the sound of
insistent buzzing. He was still on the sofa, where he had fallen
asleep with the last of his beers in his hand. He stumbled to the
intercom.

"Mr. Drummond, sir. First call for your pick
up."

"Thanks, Simon. I’ll be down soon."

Chapter Three

"Let me get that for you."

Maria forgot to even say a word of thanks to
the tall and incredibly handsome new guy. She just handed over the
trash bag as though it held the keys to her heart -- and her
pants.

He smiled and her smooth, tanned, Latina
complexion almost reddened.

"He's just the trash boy, you slut." Her
‘frenemy’ Jennifer whispered to her with a mocking grin.

"He can take out my trash any time." Maria
said suggestively.

"Jesus girl, that doesn't even make any
sense, you know, sexually?"

The two girls gazed at the tall, straight,
muscular man, flexing all kinds of unnecessary muscles to lug the
trash to the back entrance.

Maria pushed her friend's jaw shut with a
finger.

"Don't forget to breathe, honey. You look
like a bitch in heat."

The two girls burst into giggles and went
back to work.

Daniel had only been on the job for three
days but already he had proven to be a huge hit with the
predominantly female staff at the Tête-á-Tête café. Even though he
was assigned to trash duty, cleaning toilets and mopping the floors
out back, there was something about his tall, commanding, supremely
self-confident manner that made all the girls want to be near him.
All except for MJ and Olivia, the third member of Alison's
Tête-á-Tête sisterhood. Not only were her two closest friends not
interested in him, they were both also fiercely opposed to their
innocent friend Alison being taken advantage of yet again by some
good looking, charming loser with an eye for the ladies.

The two sat in a quiet corner of the café on
a break and watched what was going on.

"Did you just see those two sluts?" MJ
scoffed.

"See them, mi amor? I can smell their heat
from all the way over here." Olivia was a Latina born in the
southern states and spoke in a languid southern drawl when she
wasn’t faking a strong Mexican accent.

"What is it with that guy? He's just another
smarmy loser for Christ's sake."

"Have you seen the way Alison looks at
him?"

"No freaking goddamn way Olivia, I will not
let her. There’s something up with that guy. Have you noticed how
quiet he is? He never talks about himself. He's got some secret
he's not being up-front with."

"He can be up front with me anytime." Olivia
said, her eyes narrowing to visualize the scenario. 

"Jesus Christ, not you too." MJ hissed.

"Oh, come on. You've got to admit the guy is
hot. I mean, just one night of the wild thing, you know? A little
jungle fever? Let him have his dirty way with you and then toss him
aside like the trash he hauls all day long." She grinned.

MJ was serious for a moment but then
returned the smile. 

“
Okay, I'll admit that I
wouldn't mind rocking that man's world for just one night, you
know? But only for one single night, and I mean uno, une, eins. Not
a day more, then he goes back to taking out the garbage." She
paused. "Oh yeah, and he should be blindfolded as well."

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Dios mio, mi
amor. I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff."

"I’m not. I just don’t want it to be awkward
at work the day after. He should have earplugs, too -- and cotton
wool up his nose. I don’t want him to recognize my perfume,
either."

Olivia stared at her friend for a while, her
mouth hanging open. "Lord almighty girl, you need to get some."

MJ held up a middle finger in response and
then the two women snorted lasciviously into their coffees. When
they recovered themselves, MJ was serious again.

"Come on Olivia, back to reality here. I’m
telling you -- no, I’m swearing on my mother’s life that I will not
let him lay one gorgeous, penniless finger on our little Alison.
That poor girl cannot do one night only. She's a serial monogamist,
a seeker of true love, a believer in love at first sight and
unfortunately for her, a queen-sized loser magnet."

"You got that right, honey." 

"Yeah, electro-magnet. We have to protect
her from herself."

"By sleeping with any hot-looking losers she
sets her sights on."

"Sure, if you want to. Me? I'm not
interested. All I want to do is make sure that any signs of heat
between those two, coming from either one of them, need to be shut
down."

"I'll shut him down. Don't you worry about
that."

"But first we have to get rid of uber-loser
Brad and find her a real man. Somone with a real job, even someone
with just a damn car for Christ's sake. All Brad has is that
beat-up old courier bike of his."

"He is cute though."

"Sure, if you find total lack of ambition in
life cute."

"He's polite; a real gentleman."

"Whose side are you on, Olivia? I need you
on board here."

"I'm just saying the boy could be alright
with a little work."

"Forget it. Not possible. I know from
experience. And Mr. Take-Out-The-Trash-Toy-Boy Daniel? He's
the same. He's 32 years-old and starting a job here emptying trash
and mopping floors. If that's all he's achieved since he left high
school, then I see a problem."

Olivia looked down at the table. The smile
had left her face.

"What's wrong now, Olivia? What is it about
that guy?"

Olivia was thinking about herself. She had
to quit school early to look after her sick father. There had never
been any time to study. He had lingered for years and they hadn't
had the money to get proper care to help them out.

"There are a lot of reasons someone could
end up working here at that age, MJ." She said without looking
up.

MJ sighed, rolled her eyes at the ceiling,
and quietly cursed herself.

"Me and my big mouth. Olivia baby, I'm
sorry. You know I don't mean it that way."

"You're always so quick to judge, MJ. How do
we know why he's that old and at entry level?"

"You're right, Olivia. We
don't know. But what we do know is that he
is
that age and he
is
at entry level. So
until we know more about him, he needs to be taken care of. We
need to find out his story, find out if he has a girlfriend, a
wife, kids, and whatever else is important so we can be sure he's
being straight with Alison if it comes to that. If he's single and
interested, then we can see how serious he is. He can take his pick
from any one of the ten willing lady horndogs we have right here
in-store if he wants. It doesn't have to be Alison."

"Maybe you're right." Olivia said. "Alison
should have a little fun. She's had it rough. It would be nice if
she met a guy with some dough for a change. She's way too
kindhearted."

"That's our friend, Olivia. You know her as
well as I do. In the meantime, we need to keep those two apart --
very, very far apart. Separate shifts, separate duties, separate
everything."