Mad for the Billionaire Read online

  His regret pulled my pin. My body deflated. I wanted to sink into the wall, to disappear. “It wasn’t for me. Not for me at all.”

  “Ssh.” Alexander pulled me into him. Cupping the back of my head, he brushed his lips against my neck and whispered, “I’m never going to leave you again. I swear it. It’s in the past, little chick.”

  My voice came from far away, echoing the betrayed teenage girl I still was and the unforgiving woman I’d become. “Not for me. You broke my heart, Alexander. Twice. I don’t think it’s there anymore. All that’s left is something ruined…pathetic. I’m so sorry that I love you. Really I am.”

  * * *

  Present Day and Time

  I blinked back reflexive tears. Those ugly, humiliating memories would dog me for eternity. I stared at the passing ground, watching the marble turn into cherry hardwoods before morphing into an oversized rug.

  Can’t you understand me yet? It wasn’t that I didn’t love you. I loved you like a maniac. I hated who I had become around you, Alexander. Jealous, insecure, violent—everything I didn’t think I was capable of being. Especially since I wasn’t like that with you the first time around.

  Love isn’t supposed to be that way. I’m not supposed to be that way.

  Alexander stopped. His polished shoes pointed to the exact spot of our savage lovemaking. He maneuvered me so I stood next to him. Side by side, fingers still entwined, we viewed the scene of our crime.

  “I didn’t know it then, but it didn’t matter who left who, Sophia. It was going to end anyways.”

  “I know.” I shifted so my free hand could reach out for him. I wanted to touch Alexander as I mourned the passing of what could never become. I brushed his arm in short strokes. Illusion stated as long as my palm didn’t stay still I wouldn’t really be bound to needing him.

  It was simply the gesture of one friend comforting the other. Nothing more. Definitely much less.

  Definitely, definitely a lie.

  “We should’ve never happened, right?” I grimaced, wanting so badly to bite my tongue for saying the words again and again. Why did I have to point out the crack ruining all our shared memories?

  “No. You’re wrong.”

  “No?” Damaged, wilted, and neglected, something akin to hope sprang from the dormant ashes of my wounds.

  “We absolutely should’ve, should, and will happen.”

  I tripped over his name, finding it impossible to do anything else. I tucked my wandering hand behind my ear, using the messy strands as an excuse for abandonment. “Do you really want to go back to who and what we were?”

  “No. Never, actually.” His clasp pulsed once. “At least not like it was.”

  “Then what? We’re the same people, Alexander. Nothing’s changed, you see?”

  “Everything’s changed and I can prove it.”

  Alexander’s words led me down the candy trail, away from stagnant pools, cold ashes, and miserable endings. “What do you mean?”

  “There are things about us I understand now but didn’t before.”

  “Like what?”

  He crooked a smile at me. Alexander lifted our linked hands and turned mine towards his lips. He kissed it reverently, eyes closed for the sanctity of the gesture.

  “Like what?” I repeated inanely, unnerved and unsteady when he released my hand. Alexander ignored me. He strode to the massive monstrosity of a desk and sat behind it.

  I stood in place, anchored to the spot he had left me. The symbolism mocked me. Forever on the shelf, put away and no longer needed until nostalgia drew attention to my dusty form.

  Just a porcelain figment of his sexual imagination.

  I planted hands on hips and prepared to walk away when Alexander commanded me to “Come here.”

  2

  Present Day

  Six Hours Before

  I tapped my foot in nervousness. Grateful for the conference room’s carpeting, I jiggled my left leg while my stomach flirted with nausea. Low murmurs padded the undercurrent of respective silence.

  I’d been dreading this meeting for weeks. When I originally had gotten the news from up top that MLM Industries had been bought out, I’d been just as ecstatic as the next executive.

  MLM wasn’t going down in flames, ripped apart and sold off in pieces for profit by their major competitor Source West Financial. The morale-destroying bouts of layoffs were finally at an end. Instead of just focusing on staying afloat, MLM could turn its sights on being great again. The new owners were liquid and prepared to pour as much money as needed into MLM until it was safely back into the black.

  Unfortunately, elation died a gruesome death when I learned exactly who had saved our collective bacon. Our white knight was none other than Draven Systems International. Implosion courted the calmest musings in me even as my world rolled off its axis.

  Things can seem fine…better than fine…and then things can go to shit. Just. Like. That.

  When our CFO commented on my white face, I had smiled weakly and passed it off as delayed relief. Thankfully Mark bought it, eager to continue basking in the ephemeral glow of surviving just long enough to see MLM finally turn the corner.

  I smiled on cue, throwing out the obligatory joke or two of how I really, really knew we were going to make it all along, before spending the rest of my day alternating between numbness and a sick sense of anticipation.

  Can this be happening? After all this time?

  Alexander Monroe Draven II, my ex-boyfriend, love of my life, and object of my secret unwavering obsession, could not have bought out MLM. What were the chances?

  When I went home I fired up my laptop and clicked on a folder named “AD.” An array of photos and PDFs filled the screen. I systematically cycled through each picture, studying every line of his face, noting the changes I hadn’t had the privilege of witnessing in person. My favorites were those of him alone, arms crossed and smile cool as it ever was. The worst were of Alexander accompanied by some young starlet, exotic fashion model, or aristocratic socialite.

  He goes through them like paper.

  What hurt the most, beyond the obvious of Alexander being with someone other than myself, was each beautiful woman looked nothing like me. Taller, willowy, with hair spun the way of fairytale gold, all of Alexander’s companions were the anti-Sophia Carter.

  I couldn’t help but feel it was a purposeful statement.

  Haven’t I done the same? Dated men who wouldn’t remind me of Alexander? Shorter, blond, and blue-eyed? Not as intellectual or as driven? Safe, easy to fuck, easier to forget. No hard feelings, light friendships even after things came to an evitable end.

  The ultimate anti-Alexander.

  I blinked away the ridiculous prickles assaulting my eyes. Fatigue pulled at me like a needy child. I doggedly kept clicking, ignoring my basic needs as I kept at my unhealthy fixation—one I hadn’t indulged to this degree for a while.

  I haven’t gotten anything new. Maybe six or seven months? Wouldn’t hurt to bring everything up to date.

  I hunched over the keyboard, knowing the thought would continue to drill at me until I rectified the situation. Bringing up an incognito browser window, I typed his name and waited for the illicit cornucopia to appear. Shame diseased me as link after link populated the screen. A quick glance showed several new images I’d yet to capture. Cheeks aflame, I blew out a sharp breath.

  You can stop right now. Close it out and walk away.

  I spun in my desk chair. I got up, paced throughout the house, mindlessly tidying up and trying to pretend I didn’t want to race back to the laptop. I went into the kitchen and poked around in the refrigerator. Water, fruit, leftover KFC. Nothing appealed.

  Who was I kidding with this?

  I slammed the door shut. I knew what I wanted, what I was going to do. Stalking back to the laptop, I yanked back the chair and threw my rigid body onto it.

  Five minutes and you’re done, okay?

  Mouth compressed into a nonexiste
nt line, I powered through the images first. Click, right-click, save as, name, OK. The articles took a bit longer but soon I had a ridiculously long list of web pages added to my stash.

  I eyed the PC clock, satisfied I overshot my prescribed time by only seven minutes. There had been too much new information to gather, too much guilt to manage. Each click brought an instinctual glance over the shoulder, afraid for the phantom audience to correctly judge me deviant. Now bloated with new file names, “AD” promised to provide hours of delicious torment.

  I caught sight of my reflection in the window. I cringed at the thought of anyone seeing me like this—mascara smeared from rubbing my bleary eyes too many times, old lipstick clinging to the corners of my dry mouth, and hair knotted and tangled from nervous, tugging fingers.

  Where was the clear-eyed, even-tempered, meticulous Controller of Accounting & Finance? Just when I dared to believe I’d moved on, wiped clean the dirty remnants of that time, it all came back. I should really have known better by now.

  Dormant, but never dead, obsession had that way with me and always did when it came to Alexander Monroe Draven II.

  When asked, most people can’t answer exactly when they fell in love for the first time. They remember the general time period, maybe a few snapshot memories to fill in the blanks, but not me.

  I remembered everything.

  Alexander Monroe Draven II had sat next to me in fourth grade. I had thought he was cute, smart, but not so friendly. He was very solemn and serious, hand always raised with the right answer. Whereas I had a pitiful number of outfits to wear, Alexander’s clothes were numerous, fashionable, and neatly pressed. My sack lunch held a sandwich and maybe a piece of fruit if I was lucky. His colorful lunchbox was always filled with the tastiest of snacks.

  He was rich and I was poor. Our paths were destined to run side by side like the train tracks dividing my side of town from his. In sight but never touching.

  The fateful, irrevocable moment of when everything changed forever came when Alexander noticed I didn’t have any craft sticks for the log cabin project we were all going to be working on.

  Staring down at my too-tight pants, I blinked back my tears, dreading the exasperation and pity I’d soon see in my teacher’s gaze. This wasn’t the first time I didn’t have my supplies and I knew it wouldn’t be my last.

  I noticed Alexander staring at me. I was too ashamed to look away from my lap. Without saying a word, he opened up his brand-new package and handed me half.

  Grateful and awestruck, I accepted his generosity in the same manner it was given—silently. Alexander had saved me from the humiliation of having to either take a zero, accept more handouts from the teacher, and/or admit my mother hadn’t wanted to waste “good money on a bunch of stupid shit that was going to get thrown away anyways.”

  I shoved the sticks in my desk before anyone could see it.

  Perhaps that action set the tone for my feelings forever after. They were something to be hidden, denied, and suffered through mutely. All I knew was on that day at 12:43pm, little Sophia Marie Carter had fallen hopelessly, forever and always, in love with Alexander Monroe Draven II.

  For years afterwards, my gaze searched for his tall slim form in the halls, cafeteria, and school grounds. Just seeing him was enough in my younger years, but then high school came and with it a slew of hormones.

  I needed to be closer.

  So I worked like a demon during freshman and sophomore years to get into the same Honors classes as Alexander. My weekend was made if I happened to run into him and his mother at the town’s only grocery store. Once old enough, I got a cashier job there just so I could ring up his family’s groceries. My hands were always careful and quick when handling the food he would eat and the toiletries he would share. Being that Alexander accompanied his mother everywhere, I saw him there at least once a week.

  My memories scattered.

  Eventually I got him. The girl literally from the wrong side of the tracks got to shine in the light of the town’s brightest star. I got to see myself in his eyes. Then I lost him. Twice.

  All my juvenile fantasies of marrying Alexander, having his children, and spending the rest of my life by his side collapsed. It had taken years of therapy for me to find peace without having Alexander Monroe Draven II in my life.

  Close the laptop. Don’t slide back into that insanity. You are in enough control to stop this. Come on! Do it!

  I shrugged off the macabre warning, acknowledging it was already too late for me to pretend to be anything other than twisted. Stubbornly reading each new article, I was already familiar with Alexander’s meteoric rise from computer wunderkind of not one, but two Internet startups which had sold respectively for 334 million and 527 million.

  Most people would’ve been content with living the rest of their charmed lives on a private island. Overachieving and obsessive as always, Alexander didn’t know the meaning of resting on one’s laurels.

  Instead he turned his attention to salvaging historically sound companies that had fallen on hard times. Shrewd and particular with those few firms he acquired, Alexander had taken his newly-formed Draven Systems International into the stratosphere. All the top financial magazines speculated his net worth to be well north of a billion dollars by the time he was thirty-two.

  I wasn’t surprised. I always knew he was special and not just to me.

  Now a year later I was about to finally cross paths with him.

  My calf started to ache. I stopped bouncing it and took a deep breath. The glass doors opened. The present CFO and CIO ushered in Alexander and his entourage. I, along with everyone else, sprang to my feet. I locked my jaw tight before relaxing it. Closing my eyes briefly, I summoned a serene expression.

  Nobody has to know. Nobody will know. You’re just a face in the crowd. He probably doesn’t even know you’re here.

  I opened my eyes and nearly screwed them shut again. Alexander’s black gaze burned into mine before sliding away.

  Holy baby Jesus he saw me! My heartbeat went into overdrive. My noodle limbs threatened to give out. Fingertips lost all feeling. I fixed my attention on the CFO, unable to let my gaze rest on Alexander for fear of anyone else realizing how shaken I was. My cheeks felt warm. Just the idea of blushing over him made my face burst into flames.

  Damnit! Swallowing a dismayed groan, I concentrated on taking deep, unobtrusive breaths and hoped no one noticed my humiliating reactions.

  Alexander reached the end of the table and faced us all. “Please, have a seat. Since it’s Friday I’ll make sure to keep this as short as possible, okay?” Laughter peppered the room.

  Relieved he hadn’t pointed a finger at me and yelled, “Fire that cold-hearted, crazy bitch now!” I sank down into my chair.

  “Are you okay? You look flushed.”

  I returned the whisper from Connie, my Assistant Controller, with a friendly “Oh, it’s just my stomach. I’ll be fine.” To keep up the ruse, I uncapped my water and took a quick sip.

  I grimaced before hurriedly relaxing my pinched expression. Did I really think Alexander would take the time to fire me publicly or even acknowledge my existence? Crazy. He probably never thought of me anymore. For all I knew he didn’t even realize it was me. Besides, I probably wouldn’t see him privately since the CFO would most likely handle all direct communication between Alexander and my department.

  You’re getting into a tizzy for nothing, girl! Buck up and be the grown-up you usually are.

  Now that the worst was over, I managed to string together bits of finer logic. I could do this. MLM needed my focus and attention. Contrary to my recent behavior, I was not a lovesick teenager or tetchy grad student or borderline-obsessed basket case any longer. I was a fully grown woman with towering responsibilities that did not include mooning, fretting, obsessing, and preening over Alexander.

  Fuck him and the luxury SUV he rode in on.

  I picked up a pen and swiveled my chair to face the most important pe
ople in the room, ears alert and brain ready to process. The hour passed quickly as Alexander outlined expectations for the next quarter by using data from the reports I’d run. Idly I wondered if he knew and had been impressed by my spreadsheet prowess. I immediately stomped the rogue thought into the ground.

  Stop being such a lovesick dork.

  “Any questions?”

  Imagination made it seem that he had specifically looked at me. I maintained my relaxed position, even making time to jot down a note. Pride lightened the heavy stone in my gut. I had held it together. Disintegration faded from threat.

  Various questions came. Alexander answered them with thoughtful care. The trait wormed through me. It was one of the things I loved so much about Alexander—he took heed with his words, owning the responsibility for their meaning. He never flung them in spite.

  Yes, I loved it and hated it for the same reason.

  Alexander meant exactly what he said when he said it.

  “Sometimes I just wish you never fell in love with me, Sophia. It’s too much pressure because nothing I do ever seems to make you happy.”

  I cleared my throat, caught up in something dark, dank, and grasping. The wound from those long-ago words still festered, especially because I left him the next day.

  “All right. I think we’re done here. Thank you for your attention today and I look forward to working with you all in the upcoming weeks. Enjoy your extended weekend and see you all bright and early on Tuesday.”

  I clapped along with my colleagues. I pretended Alexander hadn’t glanced my way when he walked out, obviously brilliant retinue trailing faithfully behind him. I wondered if it irritated him to have so many people keeping at his heels. The Alexander I knew was an introvert and someone who hated crowds. Then again, the Alexander I knew wasn’t the type to hang out on a pop star’s yacht either and pose for pictures.

  Things change and usually so do people. Those who stay the same usually go crazy for a reason. And yes, that obviously means me. The word of the day is change.

  I found my feet and managed to make conversation for a few minutes before excusing myself. I took the long way to my office, hoping to avoid seeing anyone I knew. I may have survived being in the conference room with Alexander but I desperately needed to decompress.