The Billionaire Bastard: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance Read online

  (Today)

  “So come on then…if you don’t want to talk to the press, talk to me!” Chrissy says, assuring me that my secret is safe with her, and that hopefully, she won’t be bought off by the paparazzi. (I did have to bribe her with a visit to my favorite spa though) Chrissy has always been my friend since forever ago. She’s blond and wears glasses but she’s still twice as hot as I am…probably because she’s got that “friendly face” that just doesn’t fly in my job description.

  “Who is Simeon to you? Did you used to know each other?”

  “Because long before I read his books and immersed myself in those worlds he created…I fell in love with a man. I’ve known Simeon for over ten years. I loved him then. And I love him now. I’ve always loved him, even before he became the billionaire every woman wants.”

  “So why didn’t anything happen back then?”

  “Because…the timing wasn’t right. Everything was off, it was a farce, a comedy of errors. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

  “And now?”

  “Now…I think…I hope that things are going to be different. For the first time in our lives…we’re both free.” I looked at Chrissy and smiled at the thought.

  I lost my smile, recollecting about the past. Even so…even after such a spontaneous admission of love and commitment…I couldn’t help feel that something was wrong. Something was going to ruin this happily ever after fairy tale.

  “I just think…god, Chrissy. He’s everything I ever wanted. I’m so happy it actually pains me. It’s dreadfully terrifying because I keep thinking I’m going to screw this up. Again. And this time, it’s going to hurt twice as bad as it did the first time.”

  “Because why?” Chrissy said with an unsavory grin. “Because he’s got all this wealth and fame and-?”

  “God, why does everyone think that? I’m a CFO I don’t need any man to buy me shit! I’m more than happy to go out and get fame and money all by myself!”

  I sighed and looked down, thinking of old memories. “I just think reopening old emotional wounds is dangerous. I don’t want to scare him away but I don’t want him thinking I’m aloof or cold-hearted. I don’t know how women, you know, married to billionaires are supposed to act. I hardly remember what dating feels like I’ve been so consumed with work!”

  “Well there’s really only one question to answer when you think about it,” Chrissy says. “Is he still in love with you? All these years later, does he still think you’re the most beautiful woman alive?”

  “He certainly said so,” I say with a weak, tired but joyful smile. “He promised me in fact.”

  I can only wonder if Simeon Hollock remembers me as fondly as I remember him.

  Chapter 2

  Simeon

  Memories are a bizarre and yet heavenly thing. We don’t realize we’re having them until they’re in the past. It takes full concentration to LIVE in the moment, to appreciate all of what we have. Wasn’t it Thornton Wilder who wrote, “We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.”

  We don’t notice much about the scene in front of us, only about tomorrow, only about the whole world and its unsolvable problems. When do we take time to enjoy the now? When do we stop to listen to the music and taste the wine? Why are we so quick to analyze but not to enjoy? If we could actually slow down time what would we do with twice the lifetime we have?

  I once asked these questions of the beautiful Denise Downton ten years ago. I usually ask all of my deep and existential questions when I’m slightly intoxicated and my, was the Riesling good. I still remember the scene. Vividly. As if it happened yesterday, even though it was so long ago.

  The room air was warm, as it was early spring outside. A light rain shower could be heard in the distance. Both girls were relaxing, Denise reading a book, and Sarah surfing on a 2nd Gen iPhone.

  I was sitting inside Mickey Downton’s living room, along with Mickey’s beautiful wife Denise and my girlfriend at the time, Sarah Jennison. Mickey, my best friend, had gone out to buy some beer. This gave me a chance to drink my remaining wine with Denise and Sarah. I sat on the couch next to Sarah while Denise sat on the two-person reclining loveseat facing away at a 90 degree angle.

  I quizzed Denise about my “moments” theory, wondering what she thought of my existential nonsense. Most women by now would opt out of the discussion. It was a bit brainy and nostalgic, I know. I know my girlfriend Sarah didn’t really see the point of the topic. She had always called my rambling “intellectual garble”. I was halfway expecting, halfway anticipating the hilarious reaction Denise might have to all these confusing words.

  To my surprise, Denise offered a reply that was something close to profound.

  “Hmmm,” she said, “I’ve never thought of that before.” (But not that part!)

  “I know, silly string of questions. My mind goes to metaphysical places sometimes after wine.”

  “Well…let me see,” she said, humoring me a good sport, or so I thought. “When I think of life I think of every moment as eternal, if that makes sense? I mean, it’s like…whatever we’re talking about, our homes, our family, the earth, or heaven…it’s all eternal. It’s us, it’s humanity.”

  “Huhh, well I guess…”

  “And see, in college I used to take world history,” she said, looking into my eyes. “And for a while I used to read about poets, world leaders, you know quotes from great and important people.”

  “Right…”

  “And it seems like many of them were saying the same thing. That through all of human history there was a running theme. One that people keep losing sight of. That the eternal and spiritual thing we know and understand is inside every human being.”

  “And what is that eternal thing?”

  “Love, I suppose. Or at least that’s what I think it is.”

  “Love is eternal?”

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s the one thing I see in every person. They all love. In very different ways and they show it differently. But as a species, you know, we all want love and we give love freely. That’s what makes it unique.”

  “That’s an interesting theory,” I said, pleasantly surprised she kept up with the flow of conversation. “That reminds me of what we were talking about…”

  I looked over to Sarah and smiled. But she was mentally checked out. She shook her head vapidly. “I don’t really know.”

  “Sorry, a bit of an odd topic. Maybe a conversation I’ll have with Stephen Hawking one day. You know when I’m famous.” I laughed.

  “Oh and what will you be famous for?” Denise asked, her shy smile glowing in the soft lighting of the room.

  “Writing, of course. I hope to build worlds, ideas, based on some of these deep questions.”

  “And what do you write? I love to read.”

  “Well!” I said with a grin. “That’s a long story in and of itself.” I knew what she was doing. She was caressing my ego. Getting me to open up and share with her my dreams and opinions. Fondling my brain and making sure she asked all the right questions so that I kept talking. She was a graceful, masterful performer who knew how to read “her audience” very well. But I was thoroughly seduced.

  “A little sci-fi, a little fantasy. But really it’s about the human condition that we talked about…”

  Our conversation went on for quite some time. So long into the night, in fact, that Sarah fell asleep after surfing her phone for an hour. But Denise was glued onto my eyes as I described the premise of my great, never-going-to-make-it novel that I was so sure was going to change the world.

  “One of the more interesting things I’ve read has been about the theory that at some point the entire universe will end in five billion years. Now some physicists say that it will be a Big Bang Rip. But I like the theory that says it may also freeze. Because the idea of a frozen-in-time universe, a total freezing of time, sounds kind of like Nirvana.”

  “But when will that happen?
”

  “Estimates say five billion years? So don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing.”

  She laughed. “Well still, my great descendants might.”

  “Good point, maybe we should warn them somehow.”

  “So is this what you write about? Strange futures and existential angst?”

  “Of course. The questions no one ever asks about existence. Like this other idea I have for a novel…”

  I grew more excited as the conversation went on – and the longer Mickey took with those drinks. God knows what he was doing or what was taking him so long.

  Denise’s excitement also grew, her eyes becoming wild just like mine and her voice mirroring my own rapid-firing enthusiasm.

  “One of the things that really got me into metaphysics was the theory of the universe being a hologram? Ever heard it?”

  “No…what is that?”

  “Basically, it’s the idea that a lot of your perception of events happening to you is simulated. The universe isn’t as big as it seems. Everything in your universe is programmed for just you, as an individual. All the random people you meet teach you something, all the events you experience you learn from. In fact, everything we know could be like a ‘stuck in the matrix’ computer program.

  “Whoah! That’s so trippy!”

  “I know, right?” I laughed. “So it’s weird to think about.”

  “So if all that’s true what’s on the other side of the matrix or whatever it’s called?”

  “God. Aliens. I have no idea. All I know is that the theory that human beings are the only sentient species in the entire universe is far-fetched.”

  “Wow that’s kind of mind-boggling too. And the way you say it…so interesting!”

  I blushed a little bit. “Oh no, it’s just mindless chatter.”

  “But you write and speak of it so well! I’d love to read your book.”

  “Ah well, some day it will be a bestseller.”

  The more I talked to Denise that night, the more I realized that we had a special connection. No, not destiny or fate or astrological signs. Just the simple attraction of a smart woman enjoying an interesting conversation with a man—a man who was amazed at her conversational flexibility.

  Denise could talk about anything, I soon found out. Speculative science, television, relationships, movies, art, science, all the way to her religious upbringing, you name it she spoke of it honestly and without the slightest trace of ego.

  She also had a wonderful sense of humor which I would describe as sarcastic, teasing and playful. But the truth is that I only felt attraction to her mind at that time. I hardly even noticed what she looked like physically.

  My mind, or more specifically my conscience, had successfully “blocked” any sexual response to a woman I stubbornly saw as unavailable.

  Mickey later came home, an hour and a half late, and was in an unusually foul mood.

  “Jesus Christ, Denise,” Mickey snarled. “Are you not wearing a bra? You just want dudes to stare at your hard nipples?”

  “Whatever, it’s my day off! I don’t care.”

  “I see you didn’t do the dishes either like you said you would. What, are we just welcoming ants, rodents and flies into our daily lives now? Awesome job. You’re such a considerate housewife.”

  At first I chortled…figuring that was just Mickey being difficult and getting a rise out of women as he always seemed to do. But then I realized Denise wasn’t laughing. Nobody was laughing, not even Mickey. It was an absurd moment in the conversation, one that got progressively weirder the longer we overstayed our welcome.

  “Why don’t you pull your skirt up too so he can look at your ass?”

  “Why are you being this way?” Denise said with a scowl. The emotion of the moment was palpable. Within seconds, she went from a scowl to a smile…and then to a sad little lippy pout.

  Just as I was fixing to say something, then Mickey laughed joyously. “You’re such a naughty girl. I’m just teasing you, honey.”

  Denise smiled and giggled, still gazing at her husband.

  I was relieved it was all an “act”…though I couldn’t shake the conversation, even on the drive home. I smiled, still thinking about my fun otherworldly conversation with Denise.

  “She’s a smart girl,” I said, bearing left on the long drive home. Mickey and Denise lived about a half hour away from us, so it was a small price to pay in gasoline for having fun weekend friends.

  “Yeah you said that already,” Sarah snapped back. “I’m aware you have the hots for Denise.”

  “No,” I said with a furled brow. “I just it meant it was fun talking to her. Sort of like how it’s fun talking to you, darling.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” she said, on her phone, once again, checking her damned email once again.

  “You know, we talk too! Remember our conversation about multiple universes and universe holograms and such?” I smiled and looked over at her.

  “Umm sort of,” she said tiredly. “Listen I've been attending IT keynotes and presentations for the last two days. My brain is mush. The last thing I want is to talk about that shit on my day off.”

  “All right, all right,” I laughed nervously. I was not lost on the irony that Sarah was lacking in fun conversation, or even basic civility. Or that she never really read my book all the way through. But even then, even as I was contemplating the natural end of my then-current relationship, I still never thought of Denise as anything other than a friend.

  I still found dinner dates with Mickey and Denise very enjoyable, especially when Mickey and I began discussing politics, social civics and technology. He was a surprisingly smart man for being so…crass.

  “Damn, Denise. Do you just want the restaurant to bring you a whole trough of fries? Do you want to double your stomach size? Get another order of pizza I want to snuggle an extra belly roll.”

  “Come on, is that necessary?” I said

  “What business is it of yours?” Mickey said, temporarily forgetting our years of friendship and then staring me down like I was little more than a business colleague.

  I shrugged.

  “If Denise wants a tough Dom to spank her when she’s being a spoiled little princess that’s our business.”

  “Fine.”

  “It’s okay,” Denise said. “He always goes on like that.”

  Sarah and I listened to Denise and Mickey argue all through dinner. At some point I became convinced the whole thing was “roleplay” and I was just reading too much into it. Maybe Denise was happy and maybe they just got off on arguing in front of people, who knows? I know Mickey was a friend, perhaps my best friend, but it’s not like I ever asked what he wanted in the bedroom. Way too much information!

  We went out for burgers the next time, wondering what strange and surreal demonstration from our friends we might see next. As predicted, they argued off and on all night. Mickey seemed aggressive but Denise egged him on, talking about her ex-boyfriends and challenging him in the weirdest of ways.

  “You’re such a good wife,” he said with a cocky smile. “I would do anything for you, you know.”

  “Anything?” Denise said.

  “Anything. I’d share our bed with another girl if you wanted me too.”

  “Oh that’s so generous!” Denise laughed. “How about with my ex-boyfriend Jeremy? He’d be down with it.”

  Mickey lost his smile. “So are we going to order food yet or what? Nobody wants to hear about your slutty teenage years, darling.”

  Even Sarah whispered to me at one point, Denise sure likes it rough. We really didn’t know what to think of Denise—the way she seemed hurt and defenseless one minute and then a naughty party girl the next.

  “I ought to pull your pants down and spank you right in front of everyone,” Mickey said.

  “Ooooh do it! I’ve been a bad girl!” Denise giggled, then staring at her husband as if eyefucking him right then and there, oblivious to the waiters and other customers—not to mention us
sitting right in front of them!

  We decided to throw caution to the wind and get drunk later with the Downtons at their house. What can I say, I was quite enthralled with Denise and just dying to have another conversation.

  We actually didn’t get to talk much that night, since by the end, the Downtons were fighting yet again. This time a little less on the roleplaying side and more melodrama the likes of which made us both uncomfortable.

  “I’m going to bed now because I’m tired of your passive aggressive bullshit,” Mickey said excusing himself early.

  “What did you say?” Denise hollered back. “Jesus he is such a woman sometimes.”

  “Sorry. I hope I didn’t start anything,” I said, backtracking and wondering if I said anything stupid.

  “No, it’s him. It’s always just him and his warped perception of the world!”

  Sarah was annoyed and Denise was shaken up. I was caught in the middle of a drama triangle and for the sake of my girlfriend tried to ease my way out.

  “Ah right. I hear you. Mickey is uh…you know.” I shook my head, once again torn between loyalties. “He’s-”

  “I know. He really is a nice guy. I just think he drinks too much.”

  “Well…yeah, I guess so,” I said, slightly embarrassed that I had a few drinks myself. But I was always a happy drunk. Whenever I got tipsy, the universe seemed to be at peace. Life was beautiful. But to Mickey, life was shittier the more wasted he got.

  “And I’ve talked to him about it before. But you see that one bad side of him and you wonder why I stay.”

  “Right…”

  “ But then you see what he buys me. This house. The car. He loves me in a different way than most other guys. I guess…”

  “I guess.” I was just on the verge of saying something a little more dramatic, when Sarah jumped in, tired of me playing mediator.

  “Well…maybe you should go talk to him. And we’ve got to get home. Got to get up early you know.”

  “Of course,” Denise said, looking into my eyes and hardly paying attention to Sarah. “Thanks for coming. Sorry about all this bullshit you had to see. Sometimes I don’t know how much more I can take...but I know in my heart I love him. And I can’t give up…”