The Solitary Billionaire (3 page)

She won’t last the week, he
thought as he gazed at her, his expression unfathomable.
 
He expertly directed the boat towards the
pier.
 
They both stayed silent, lost in
their own thoughts as he switched off the engine.

Jake carried her suitcase
up the hill towards the main house.
 
Minx
was entranced by the peaceful palm-fringed beach views as they passed hammocks
hanging between the trees and sun loungers to relax on.
 
Jake admired her extravagant curves from
behind, as Minx swayed her luscious hips from side to side gracefully walking
up the hill.

The interior of the house
featured an elegant staircase leading to the bedrooms and a spacious common
area on the ground floor, with an impressive bar and an open log fire.
 
Minx admired the massive flat screen TV, deep
luxurious sofas and antique telescope by the bay window.
 
The communal dining area consisted of a large
mahogany table with some great views out onto the tennis courts on one side and
the sea on the other.
 

“It is perfect,” gushed
Minx, her eyebrows raised in wonder and expectation.

“I guess, it’s time you met
the man,” said Jake in a matter of fact tone.
 
He dropped her suitcase by the stairs and motioned Minx with his right-hand
to follow him down a long, marble corridor towards Stanley Marx’s study.
 

“This is Stanley’s private
study.
 
He spends hours alone in this
room,” he whispered as he knocked on the door.
 
Minx stood like a statue behind him.
 
There was no answer.
 
Jake slowly
turned the handle and slowly opened the door as they entered softly.

***

The raw bricked sitting room
was in stark contrast to the rest of the modern house.
 
The room was lit by a single lamp and
seemingly without a window of any sort.
 
Stanley
Marx did not look in her direction as she entered the room.
 
He sat sipping a stiff drink and smoking a
cigar on a grey worn down armchair as he stared into an empty grate.
 
The curtains and sofas looked worn, frayed and
moth-eaten.
 
Minx noticed a vast number
of books, whole shelves full of classically bound novels.
 
There were volumes of old newspapers and
magazine cuttings littered everywhere.
 
None
of the newspapers were of a recent date.
 
There seemed a strange stillness in the room and Jake coughed nervously
as he entered.

“Stanley, the girl is
here,” he whispered politely.

“What girl?”
 
His
voice was gloomy, slightly breathless and compelling.

“She won the competition in the Evening Bulletin, her
name is Minx Valour.”

Minx Valour moved towards
Stanley Marx to get a closer look at his profile.
 
She was taken aback by his appearance.
 
His looks had changed dramatically from the
youthful pictures in past newspapers.
 
He
looked twice Minx Valour’s age.
 
His
features were stern, craggy-faced and heavy-browed.
 
He had a shaggy mane of silver hair that made
him look almost beastly.
 
His eyebrows
were massive.
 
His mouth was fixed and
rather cruel-looking.
 
His chin was broad
and strong and his cheeks firm though covered in rough stubble.

“Don’t’ you know what day
it is?”
 

“No, Sir,” Jake said, Minx
noticed a bead of sweat on his forehead.

“I won’t be seeing anyone
today.
 
Get out!”
 
He barked in a state of barely contained
fury.

“Yes sir,” Jake whispered
backing towards the door as Minx’s blue-diamond eyes widened.

Minx felt her knees tremble
as Stanley Marx turned briefly and looked at her.
 
His eyes appraised her briefly.
 
The anguish in his expression was palpable
and his dark eyes burned.

“Get out,” he roared as his
eyes flashed dangerously.
 
He watched as
tears welled up in her eyes and Minx fled the room.

“He was horrible,” Minx
choked back a sob, “I could have chosen a week with royalty or a ridiculously
good looking Golden globe-winning actor.
 
No, I chose that brute.
 
What was
I thinking?”

Minx followed Jack towards
the kitchen.
 
The kitchen was a fully
equipped gourmet kitchen decorated with fine polished granite countertops and
wood cabinetry.

Jake put his head in his
hands and sat on a stool.

“Today is the anniversary
of his son’s birth.
 
He was born thirteen
years ago today.
 
How could I have
forgotten that?”

“Is this his son who died
in a car crash?”

“Yes, Stanley never got
over losing his son.
 
He adored that
boy,” he said in a hoarse voice.

Jake blinked at her, truly
bewildered as she sat and faced him.

“Should I go?”

“No, stay the week.
 
Enjoy the Island, its paradise here most of
the time,” he said as she glanced anxiously at him.

Minx wiped the tears off
her face and refused to think of Stanley Marx again.
 
She might as well try to enjoy the rest of
the week.

“Good girl, let me show you
to your bedroom, you must be tired,” said Jake smiling up at her.

***

Jake took her arm and they
chatted as they went up the elegant staircase leading to the guest bedroom.
 
The bedroom was furnished with a relaxing and
indulging large leather sofa and TV.
 
There was a private nook in the corner of the bedroom with desk and
chair to just email or phone.
 
Minx
admired the King bed, private bath steam shower, Jacuzzi tub, and large walk-in
closet

 
“You must be tired.
 
You should rest a while.
 
There is a bell by the side of the bed, if
you need anything.
 
I have to be away for
the rest of the day but, come and go as you please. ” Jake said as he gave a
courteous bow and left.

Minx felt no desire to answer
the incessant ring of her mobile she had ignored since landing.
 
She switched off her mobile and placed it in
a bedside drawer.

Minx lay sprawled on her
bed and thought about Stanley Marx.
 
She
ran a frustrated hand through her blonde hair as she thought about his appalling
social skills, stern features and heavy brow.
 
He looked like the type of person who liked to order people around in a
gruff, often brutal manner.
 
Minx closed
her eyes and parted her lips as she inhaled.
 

Minx spent the rest of the
day walking barefoot on the tropical beach, watching movies and drinking pina
coladas.
 
Minx enjoyed the fact she was
in a foreign country with a different culture and attitudes.
 

For supper, Minx sat on a
stool munching on crab in the kitchen while chatting with the housekeeper,
Matilda.
 
She was a funny old gal.
 
She seemed awfully old, her face was all
twisted like the bark of a tree and she had a wonderful hooting laugh.

“How long have you worked
for Stanley?”

“Two Years.
 
The housekeeper before me lasted a week
before she quit,” she said hooting with laughter.

“His bark is worse than his
bite.
 
If Stanley Marx can’t out argue
you, he bullies you and then takes your silence for agreement with his views.
 
He sure likes to sit brooding in that
armchair,” Matilda hooted wiping the tears from her eyes as she chopped onions
on a wooden board for a stew she was making.
 
“He has a noble heart though and I like him,” she continued in a smooth
deep voice.

They sat a while and Minx
told Matilda about the competition and why she picked the notorious billionaire
recluse, Stanley Marx.
 

Minx looked out the window
and saw glorious lights scattered all over the small Island.
 
She brushed the few strands of golden strands
from her face and for a moment she felt as if the pall of gloom which weighed
her down since her introduction to Stanley Marx was lifted.

“How funny, I originally
felt anger towards Stanley Marx but now I feel pity.
 
He reminds me of a middle aged alcoholic who
likes to wallow in his own self-pity,” she said quite simply.
 
She noticed Matilda paused, embarrassed.
 
Matilda frowned awkwardly and raised her
finger and pointed past Minx.

“I can assure you, there is
no need to pity me,” Stanley Marx said dryly.
 
Minx felt the colour in her cheeks rise.
 
Minx stood rather shakily and tried to suppress her nerves.

“I didn’t hear you
approach,” she mumbled awkwardly.

“Looks are deceiving.
 
I am known to be light on my feet when I hear
my name mentioned in conversations I am not part of,” his hooded eyes regarded
her shrewdly as he stood in the shadows of the room.
 
He sank into a black leather chair opposite
Minx and asked Matilda to make him a stiff drink.

“Why would a young woman
who has the opportunity to spend a week with any celebrity, choose a middle-aged
alcoholic who likes to wallow in his own self-pity?” He enquired with a deep
belting voice.

“I wanted to get to know
the man behind the tabloid image.”

“How do the tabloids
portray me these days?”

“You are an enigma.
 
This is probably because you have not been
seen in public in ten years.”

“I enjoy a solitary
existence, or at least I did.”

“Honestly, I was surprised
you agreed,” Minx squirmed uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze.

“I was flattered, but now I
think I made a mistake as I’m in no mood for the company of strangers,” his
tone was stern.
 
“Tell me, Miss Valour, has
my appearance changed from the pictures in the tabloids?”

“The last public picture of
you was at the funeral of your wife over ten years ago,” she said as she
watched his facial expression darken.
 
His entire body tensed.

“I bid you goodnight, Miss
Valour,” his tone was full of warning as his eyes glittered dangerously.
 
He left the room abruptly.
 
Matilda’s long spell of silence made Minx
look at her.
 

“Did I say something
wrong?”

“It’s best not to mention
his dead wife and son,” Matilda murmured softly as she smiled kindly at Minx.

There was nothing further
to be said.
 
Minx bid her goodnight and
left Matilda chopping vegetables in silence.

The following afternoon, Minx
Valour was in the middle of a spirited confrontation with the butler.
 
Her voice was raised and she was stabbing at
the butler with her finger.
 
She looked
stunning in white tailored trousers and a white chiffon blouse.

“I’d appreciate if you do not
walk into my bedroom again without knocking.
 
I happened to be naked,” her eyes blazed with fury.
 
The butler’s balding head recoiled and his droopy
eyes widened.
 

“The name is Joe and sorry,
I had no idea we had such an important guest,” he gushed with a sneering grin
as he prepared a light lunch for Stanley Marx in the kitchen.

“Bullshit,” she snapped.
 
“You are a bloody pervert.”

Minx did not notice Stanley
Marx enter the kitchen.
 

“I don’t appreciate you
calling my staff perverts,” he gave her a small smile, looking genuinely
amused.

“I don’t appreciate having
a fat, balding creep enter my room without knocking,” she shouted, watching Joe,
like one would watch a dangerous predator.

“I must remember that,”
Stanley said, his eyes danced with humour.

“You seriously need
therapy,” she shouted as Stanley raised his eyebrows.
 
Minx felt her burning cheeks with her
manicured hands.
 
She took a deep breath
and closed her eyes.

Minx huffily walked towards
the exit before turning towards Stanley, “What do you see when you look in the
mirror?”

“A mere mortal,” he replied
with a glint in his eye.

“That’s good.
 
Because when we reach the other side, we will
all be equals at God’s feet and you will have a lot of explaining to do.” She
yelled, “It won’t be so easy to fire everyone who looks at you the wrong way.
 
You will be in someone else’s kingdom unless
you are sent downstairs.
 
Though I’d have
no problem if you fired that bloody pervert,” she hissed at Stanley while
pointing at Joe.