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Billionaire's Bet: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #12) by Claire Adams (33)


 

Chapter Five

Aria

 

“He sounds amazing, Aria!” Stacey said the next morning when I went home. “Swoon, baby, swoon. Can’t even imagine how you feel.”

“Amazing.” I hadn’t been able to wipe the huge grin off my face no matter how hard I tried.

“You already said that,” Stacey chuckled. “Like, about 500 times. In the last hour.”

“I know. But you don’t understand. He’s so—“

“Amazing?” she offered.

“Yes. And sexy. Did I tell you he’s getting my paper published?”

“Yep. More than once. And I’ll have to butt in here and remind you that you got your paper published. He simply geared it towards the right direction.”

“But it wouldn’t have happened without him.” I sounded way more defensive than I had intended. “And he even helped me research it. You know how confident I am about my work, Stace. Not at all. I would never submit my work to an influential journal. I kind of owe him a lot.”

“I’m sure he thinks you don’t, since you seem to be already returning favors,” she said and winked.

I hit her with a pillow. “Shut up, Stace. And it’s more of a favor to me anyway.” Trying not to blush, I changed the subject. “So what’s new with you, anyway?”

“Nothing on the scale of enthralling romance with a handsome billionaire.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for completely ignoring my attempt to change the subject.”

“You’re welcome, anytime. And you know I’m just teasing, right? I am happy for you. I’ve never seen you this excited about a guy in all the time I’ve known you. One might even say you’re in looove.”

I gasped. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Yeah, I don’t really think you are either. I’ll probably know first since I know you better than you know yourself. I am going to make a wild guess and say that you are beginning to fall for him.”

“Yeah…I am so screwed,” I said, burying my head underneath the pillow on the couch. Was I really beginning to fall for him? I couldn’t be! I didn’t even know him very well. I mean I did, on principal – I knew what he did for a living and I knew where he went to college. I knew all these random facts about him. Me and every other girl in the world with a magazine and internet access. 

Plus, everything he’d done for me since the contract.

Zayden Sinclair was an absolute pleasure to hang around. I could be myself with him, I realized to my own surprise. I never pretended or put on a face; I always said the first thing that came to my mind and he found my lame jokes funny, and enjoyed my company, just the way I was. Being with Zayden – around Zayden – was comfortable, easy, and natural. The fact that we seemed to get along so well was incredible given the differences in our social status. Yet this did not seem to matter at all when we were around each other. We were always just two people, enjoying each other’s company, and no external factors about who he was and who I was seemed to ever matter.

Stacey was right. I was falling for him. I was in trouble.

 

---

 

By the time I got to work that day, I was still reeling thinking about Zayden and last night. Every customer and coworker could sense my giddiness from a mile away, I was sure, and it didn’t bother me at all. Every chance I got, I looked over at him through his glass doors, feeling wonderful. There was nothing like watching Zayden hard at work. His passion shone through the distance between us, and I had noticed that any time he was frustrated, he would screw his nose in the most adorable way and crush his stress ball. It made me wish I was his stress ball.

At some point I saw him loosen his tie in what I assumed was frustration, and I just wanted to go over and put my arms around him, kissing his forehead. Unfortunately, we had an audience to worry about. Things would be so much easier if we weren’t doing this in secret. At the same time, I wasn’t sure Mrs. Brian’s judgmental looks were entirely welcome, and I didn’t want people to think there was any favoritism going on.

Not that this affected my job in any way. I still had the same shitty hours and the same shitty pay, and I was glad about it. I wanted to earn any career advances I made; however, people loved to talk, and they would somehow manage to make me feel like I was getting special treatment—like extra-long bathroom breaks or something.

But more importantly, I wasn’t sure Zayden wanted to make our – I wasn’t sure what to call it, not relationship in any case – dalliance public just yet. Or ever, I realized with a sinking feeling in my heart. One of these evenings I would have to bring this up with him; yes, it was a contract, and yes, I knew where this was supposed to go all along. But things had obviously changed for me, and I wondered – and hoped more dearly than I liked – that they had changed for him too. He had taken me out in public, after all! And brought me a present from New York. Though that was hardly saying something. I had yet to even see the inside of his apartment. He had hinted a few times at taking me over there, but somehow, we almost always found ourselves confined to his office. I mean, to be fair, we had both always been too eager to take each other’s clothes off the moment we were alone together. Still. It would be nice if he asked. I would like to feel more like a part of his life and get to know more about him, like his family, friends, hobbies, and all that jazz.

And I would like to learn more from him. A lot more. One of the greatest unimagined benefits of our tryst had been just how much I had learned from Zayden. More than I had from most teachers. He was always willing and eager to talk me through the basics of management in the banking industry and whenever we talked about this stuff, his teasing persona would completely vanish. Solemnly, he would get into telling me details about his own experiences during his MBA, and getting into everyday examples from his job as CEO. When we were “studying,” he would even ignore my playful sexual advances, leading me to believe that he actually took me seriously. Coming from a misogynistic philanderer, it surprisingly meant a lot.

I couldn’t wait until everyone went home and I could walk into his office with all these new questions that I had been thinking about. With my shirt off. I would challenge him to keep his serious tone and make it very difficult. It would be amusing. Then, after we walked through all my questions, we would get back on his couch. Or maybe he would even invite me home…if we managed to keep our hands off each other through my long list of questions, after all, we could manage another few minutes to his house. I wondered what it was like. Probably bigger than any place I had ever seen. His bedroom was probably the perfect Martha Stewart representation of the alpha male. Dark sheets and curtains. A drawer full of kinky things, I could bet. Things I would have no idea the purpose for. And he would probably want to show me.

“Aria,” I heard a male voice say, breaking me out of my embarrassing daydream. I looked up hoping to find Zayden, and was disappointed to find Dick’s face smiling down at me gleefully. Rick. I forced a smile.

“Hey! You look really pretty today,” he said. “Well, every day. But really, really pretty today.”

Annoyed but trying not to show it, I cleared my throat. “Thanks,” I said awkwardly. “What are you doing here?”

“Snappy. How flattering for my ego.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude or anything. Just wondering how come you’re at the bank. I’ve never seen you here before. And I thought you banked with Wells Fargo!”

“I am thinking of changing it.” He shrugged. “There are some things only this branch of South National has to offer. Exclusively.”

I sighed. “Rick. We have been through this already. You know where I stand on this whole thing.”

His smile didn’t falter. “I know. I thought we stood at being friends.”

That made me smile back at him, and at the exact moment I saw Zayden looking at us sternly. “Yes, that sounds about right. But you really shouldn’t be here.”

“I am not stalking, I promise. I had to go visit a friend next door and I remembered you telling me you worked here. It probably sounds like bullshit – given the age-old ‘I was in the neighborhood’ line – but I really was. I can give you his number if you like.”

I laughed, trying not to look at Zayden. His fierce stares were starting to make me uncomfortable. “I believe you, and thanks for stopping by.”

“Of course, anytime. I thought I would also check up on our coffee hangout. I owe you a delicious cup of Frappuccino for everything I made you go through.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Like I said, I am over everything that happened. But yes, we can grab that coffee sometime.”

“Perhaps you could plan that coffee date when I am not paying you by the hour,” I heard a different, angrier voice say. Zayden was standing in front of us, looking about ready to commit murder. I had never seen him this angry before. Not even when he was yelling on the phone the other day. My knees trembled and I looked over at Rick. He looked petrified, his face turning pale white.

“I’m sorry,” he was saying in the voice of a mouse. “I did not mean to distract her from her job.”

“You know who I am?” Zayden said, his eyes almost red.

“Duh. Most people do around here. I’m Richard Kruz. A friend of Aria’s.”

“I don’t care if you’re the mother of Jesus. If you need to flirt with my employees, do it on your own time. Now please leave the premises of my building before I call security.”

Rick looked like he was about to throw up and muttered another “Sorry” before strutting out of the building. If I wasn’t so terrified myself, I would be laughing hard at the look on his face. He definitely deserved this.

“You,” Zayden snapped. “In my office. Now.”

He had never spoken to me like that, and now my amusement and fear was starting to turn into anger. God, he was being an ass. I followed him to his office, rage spreading through my body.

“Close the door behind you,” he said in the same angry tone.

I complied, if for no other reason than to avoid a scene. There was never a good time to be chastised by Zayden Sinclair, but the worst time ever would be during the middle of the day at both our workplaces with everyone listening as they pretended to work.

It would be difficult to continue to keep my cool if he kept acting this way, though.

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