Resisting the Billionaire Collection (5 page)

"I'm sorry sir--"

"No more 'sir', Melanie. Please just call me
Alex."

"Thank you sir -- I mean Alex. But I have
regular flights all week--"

"Canceled. Reassigned." Mitch said.

This was a disaster. Her mother was in real
danger of being evicted.

"Is there a problem?" Alex asked. He sounded
so kind. Melanie just couldn't put the two pictures together. The
charmer on the Columbus flight followed by the manipulative
billionaire. Then the crass asshole at the check-in counter this
morning followed by the magnetically charming hunk from her dreams
who stood before her now.

"I'd love to go." She stammered, "It's just
that...."

Mitch glared at her, willing her to shut up.
He knew that no one ever said no to Alex Drummond, Jr.

"There's no problem Mr. Drummond," he said.
"Her schedule will be absolutely cleared; I'll see to it
myself."

Screw you. A flash of defiance ran through
her. Mitch was trying to run her life again, even after she had
broken up with him. You're not in charge here. Although a little
overwhelmed and star struck in the presence of the tall handsome
billionaire, she was still a woman and sure he liked her. He had
offered to pay her mother's medical bills for God's sake. She
decided to lay it on thick to get a little revenge on Mitch. God
knows he deserved it. She dropped her head demurely and then looked
up at Alex with coy little girl eyes.

"Mr. Drummond," she said, and then flashed
him a shy smile. She saw his pleased response, which he tried to
cover up quickly. There really was something there.

Mitch stood there fuming, just visible from
the corner of her eye.

"It's just, well, my roommate left suddenly
and I'm short on rent this month..."

"Stop right there." He said. "Mitch will
take care of that, won't you Mitch?" He turned his commanding gaze
to the stooping manager with a look that threatened doom if
disobeyed.

"Of course, Mr. Drummond." He said.

"Mitch will give you the details before we
board the flight. Don't worry Melanie; I consider this a special
service so you won't be out-of-pocket. Mitch will make sure that
your rent is covered and then some. Isn't that right?"

Mitch nodded unhappily and gave another
sharp look to Melanie as if to say he would get even with her for
this indignity.

"Any other problems, Melanie?"

She searched her mind for something to say
other than the problem with her mother. She didn't want Mitch to
know and she didn't want this Drummond guy to somehow use it
against her again. She was somehow still looking for a reason to
escape. Was she really going to be a serving girl for this guy with
his huge sense of entitlement? Didn't she have a say? After all, he
was still a virtual stranger and here she was suddenly changing all
her plans and getting ready to spend nine hours on a flight with
him and then eight days with him on Tahiti.

"If it's a question of money," he added,
"then don't worry in the least. Whatever financial commitments you
have, and I mean whatever they are, they will be covered by the
additional time on this flight. This trip is a personal flight for
a family vacation. This means that the money you earn wouldn't be
at your standard Drummond Airlines rate of pay, am I right
Mitch?"

Mitch was churning inside but didn't dare
disagree.

"That's right Mr... uh, Alex."

"What do we usually pay cabin crew staff for
these trips?"

"I'd have to check that out sir."

"Alex."

"Yes, Alex. I'd have to check it out."

"Do it."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes Alex."

"Yes."

"Do it now."

Melanie was loving it. This was even better
than watching him nearly cry as she destroyed his iPad, his
MacBook, and his iPhone with the baseball bat.

Mitch got onto his desk computer and quickly
had an answer.

"Two nine-hour flights, approximately and
then a period of eight days in between with a vacation day--"

"Paid vacation?" Alex asked in a way that
made the answer obvious.

"Sure, I mean of course. All that would come
to..." he did the calculations "$500 per flight."

Melanie was stunned, realizing that was over
$50 an hour. After six years with Drummond, she still made less
than $10 an hour on her usual flights.

"That's $1,000 plus seven days at $50 per
hour--"

"It's eight days."

"Yep. Of course. Eight times eight--"

"Eight times twelve. Bill her for twelve
hours a day just in case we need her for something. Oh, and
Melanie, do you speak French?"

"I... uh, yes I do. I majored in it and
spent a year in--"

"That's fine. Put in the supplemental rate
for translation work."

"That comes to $80 an hour, Alex. Are you
sure?"

"Mitch, stop kidding around!" He said with a
laugh and an edge of absolute seriousness. "I want to know how much
to pay her, not figure out if we can afford it or not."

“Okay, that comes to $80 per hour by twelve,
which is $960. Multiply that by eight gives you $7,680 then add on
the $1,000 for the round trip, and that's a total of $8,680."

Melanie breathed in and out very softly. She
was afraid to move or speak in case it all went away. That was
nearly the whole amount she needed to keep her mother in the home
for another month at least. With only $1,320 short, she might be
able to negotiate something with them.

"What about expenses?" Alex asked.

"What about them?" Mitch said. "She can keep
receipts and then submit them."

"Put her on a per diem. Tahiti is an
expensive place and Melanie is doing us a favor. I don't want her
worrying about keeping receipts for bottled water and deodorant.
What's the US State Department per diem rate for Tahiti?"

"Those are very high--"

"It's not what I asked, Mitch."

"Of course not." He could barely hide his
resentment. He took a deep breath as he read out the numbers.

"The current maximum rate is... $421."

Melanie's jaw dropped.

"Multiply that by eight days and that comes
to $3,368, for a grand total of $12,048."

It was more than half her annual salary and
more than enough to keep the nursing home happy.

Alex looked at her.

"So what do you say Melanie? Do you want the
job or not? It's entirely up to you."

"I... I..." she stammered, "I only have an
overnight bag." She finally said.

"Is that all?" He smiled. "Don't worry, we
have everything you need at our place on the island, and whatever
we don't have, we can find. I never travel with anything other than
hand luggage anyway." He held up his designer hand luggage and
Melanie winced as she saw the large scuffmark from where she had
knocked it out of his hands. He noticed her expression and looked
at the large black dirty line. He gave it a brush or two with his
big strong hand, making no impression on the stain.

Then he laughed chivalrously.

"That mark has been there for ages," he
said, but she knew he was fibbing. "Come on, let's go." He put out
his hand for her. She felt like a princess in a fairytale as she
put her slim white delicate hand into his strong tanned fingers,
feeling them close gently around hers. She hadn't been this excited
or terrified about anything in years.

Chapter Six

Melanie normally arrived with the rest of the crew to
the aircraft first in order to get things ready for the passengers.
But today, she was escorted like royalty to the steps of the
Drummond Family’s personal jet. It was all she could do to prevent
her head from spinning as Alex put out his hand like the perfect
gentleman to help her down from the runway vehicle. He smiled and
nodded for her to go first and she felt a flush of
self-consciousness. She would have to mount the steps one by one
with him following close behind her, getting a front row view of
her rear tightly packaged into her flight attendant's skirt. She
wished she didn't have to wear work clothes for this. These days it
felt like she was never out of the uniform since she worked every
flight she could in order to barely cover her rent and
expenses.

Just so this rich playboy can have his
private jets, she thought. Then pay you over $12,000 for one single
trip.

She could feel him following behind her.

I hope you're enjoying yourself. She
thought.

She needed to stay focused. The last thing
she wanted to do was totter over and trip up the steps. How
charming would that be? Nevertheless, she couldn't help but put a
little sway into her hips as she carefully mounted higher.

He's the boss after all, might as well give
him what he wants. Somehow, the thought was exciting to her. This
powerful man behind her, the owner of this sleek jet and employer
of everyone at Drummond Airlines was her boss, and she was going to
serve him for the next nine hours like a palace slave.

I need to get some air and come back down to
earth. She thought. Most likely, all he wanted was a bag of salted
peanuts with a seltzer and she just happened to be the only
available employee to serve him on his South Pacific jaunt. He had
probably bedded hundreds of beautiful girls and plenty of flight
attendants among them. He was way out of her league and even if
they did get involved, it wouldn't be for long. Probably only long
enough for him to 'do' her and then move on.

But she wasn't that kind of girl.

No way. Just earn your money, pay the
nursing home bill, and then get back to reality again.

So then why was the highly improbable
thought of something happening between them exciting her so
much?

This flight threatened to drive her crazy.
It was going to be one long nine-hour stretch.

She was almost at the last step when her
footing went and she felt herself slip backwards. For a moment she
panicked, fearing where she might land, combined with the indignity
and the embarrassment. She was a flight attendant for God's sake.
How many sets of air stairs had she climbed over the last six
years? Hundreds, maybe thousands, and never a slip on any of them.
And now, just when Mr. Super-hunk Gorgeous Billionaire who also
happened to be her boss’s, boss’s, boss’s, boss is right behind
her, she keels over like an idiot.

Right into his arms.

"Whoa there!" He said, effortlessly scooping
her up as though she were a doll. "I don't want to lose my
beautiful air hostess before I even set foot on the plane."

His mouth was close to her ear as he spoke,
his breath causing just the slightest tingle as his strong arms
wrapped themselves around her, encircling her, protecting her.
Mitch had put his back out once fooling around and trying to lift
her into his spindly arms. There was no sign of that here.

"Mr. Drummond--"

"Alex." He said firmly.

"Alex... just because I'm flying with you to
Tahiti--"

"Hmm, you make it sound almost romantic when
you put it like that."

"Just because I'm a flight attendant on your
holiday doesn't mean that you got what you wanted."

"What do you think I want?"

He was still holding her. A whole lot longer
than was necessary. She wanted to care but made no move to liberate
herself. It had been a long time since someone had held her like
that. She had been so busy trying to make ends meet and traveling
the world these last few years that she hadn't really had time for
relationships, apart from her recent disaster with Mitch.

Alex slowly set her on her feet again. His
rugged cheek brushed against hers as he lifted her, his arms
rippling with powerful muscles, his hands lightly swept across her
hips as he released her.

Melanie could feel blood rushing to parts of
her body that weren't appropriate for someone who was on duty and
standing right in front of her boss.

"I'm sorry." She stammered. "I just want to
do my job, that's all."

"Don't apologize," He said. Everything
sounded like an order from him, but in a kindly way. "That's all I
want too, really." His easy smile belied the intense burning of his
eyes as he stared into hers.

Inside, the aircraft was pure luxury from
floor to ceiling. It was a Boeing Business Jet. Not a flashy
aircraft, but a very expensive luxury nonetheless. Working in
aviation, Melanie had often seen these on the runway or in the sky
and knew the value to be somewhere between $50 and $60 million. She
had never been on one and although she had often flown business
class and occasionally first class with her flier miles, nothing
could compare to the absolute luxury aboard the custom designed
interior of this aircraft.

"Do you like my ride?" Alex said
casually.

"Where's the galley?" She asked.

"The galley?" He seemed perplexed. "Oh, you
mean the kitchen area, of course. This aircraft may be a little
different to what you're used to. But don't worry, you'll soon get
used to it and feel right at home."

Home was right. It was larger and more
spacious than her apartment. The fixtures and fittings were all the
most expensive, nothing had been spared. Unlike any aircraft she
had worked before, there were no rows of seats. Everything had been
taken out to form comfortable five-star dining arrangements, an
entertainment area with the largest flat screen TV she had ever
seen and a chill-out space that would put most people's living
rooms to shame.

"The master bedroom is over here." He said,
indicating an area to the far end of the living spaces. "The other
bedrooms are adjacent."

"This is really beautiful." She said.
"Where's the rest of the cabin crew?"

"You're it!" He smiled. "Don't worry though,
it's just me and my brother and we're both low-maintenance. Just as
well, it isn’t all three of us. It’s little Drummond, the younger
one who’s got some crazy notions about himself. He’ll grow up
though."