The Billionaire's True Love

Chapter 4 - Cristian

The last thing I wanted at the end of a shitty day was to go to a party for thanks to customers, for cocktails and cold appetizers, faces that looked like looked after Jasmine Valentino's shot. I received inquiries from people all day who weren’t assholes, as well as jokes and taunts from people who definitely were assholes. I think few have smoked my lie that I slipped in the shower and collided with a marble soap dish. But they didn't know it wasn't me at all care what they think of my private life. As long as they respected me at work, I was fine. I could make money out of almost anything. So what if on an emotional level I was nothing. I simply didn’t experience whatever for those women, although I probably would have meant something more to me than s*x itself. But I never felt anything but admiration for their beauty, as well as a desire for mutual satisfaction, if they were interested in the same. I was not stingy. Before we finished, he took care of it I wish they were well satisfied. I didn’t know how to function differently, and until I did I collect, I should just stay away from women. That would make the most sense. That my father’s law firm organized this gathering was is the only reason I will step foot inside. Part of me still wanted him to make me proud, even though I created a career independent of him. Now that it was no more, I took over his job, and I knew his colleagues they follow closely to see how I will fare. My brothers had their personal pastimes and money, in addition to a stake in Dad’s shares, but were not involved in running the company like me. Lucas lived as a hermit on the island, designing game systems, about which no one knew much. Since I was the oldest child, after whom the identical twin brothers came, and then five years later other twins, this time a fraternal girl, I was an intruder. Willow was engaged for her college professor, and Winter was in college, so everyone focused on their own goals, as they should. My mother was very proud to have given our father five children and suffered only three pregnancies. And Mom made sure we all know how each of her births was suffering from the worst kind. Maybe that's why she despised me. All that effort and she got only one child - me. The relationship with my mother was just the beginning of my troubles with women. I already had a not-so-pleasant phone conversation today. Jasmine quickly reached out to my mom, through tears telling a story of disrespect and broken promises. I did not tell her that just five minutes after she left me she was sucking Arron Blakney’s d**k. Holding that my mother wouldn’t want that picture in my head, I didn’t say much in response except that Jasmine is not the girl we all thought she was and that for me from now on she will be nothing more than a family friend. Mom also took the opportunity to tell me how I had made her friendship with Jasmine’s mother difficult. I offered her advice that a generous donation to their nonprofit organization would probably smooth things over. I guess she didn’t like my proposal because she hung up soon after. I will drink a maximum of two drinks before I run away. Nodding and saying the right things, I shook hands with colleagues who knew my father and accepted sympathy from others. I will have to remember the people who made the effort to mention his name to me, so I will write down their names along with the event and the date as soon as I get home. I visited all the guests, the way my dad taught me - and he knew best how to handle a full room of potential clients - when I decided I had achieved what I had set out to do for tonight. It was time for me to leave. As I set my glass down on the empty table, I headed for the door, and then I saw her. Just so. She appeared in front of me and I watched her without blinking.  The beautiful girl I saw at Starbucks this morning. Her blonde hair wasn't as downy this morning, though; she tied it in a neat tail. But was she there to ... serve? 

I saw her walk Into that layout studio subsequent to Starbucks. She likely had  jobs. Valuable ... beautiful ... sexy.

I quickly returned to my half-empty glass and grabbed it from the table. Suddenly I felt like taking a bite or two. She saw me approaching and approached with a tray.

- What's this called? I asked without even looking at her tray. Bad move on my part, however I become too busy staring into her golden eyes and hair, and the whole lot else I ought to see up near now. Perfect skin, dark lashes that framed super eyes, and a scar along the road of hair increase at the proper facet of her face. Something had harm her in her past and I was utterly insane that it upset me. She pursed her pink lips as if trying to suppress a laugh.

- Well, they told me it was something called ... meatballs. A very unusual gourmet creation. You should try which one. Apparently, they are very tasty.

Her voice was ... f*****g beautiful. 

- Good. I took a meatball and put it in my mouth. I didn't feel anything. I could also chew the by-products of the slaughterhouse, and I wouldn’t even know it. My brain shut down for everything but her beautiful voice.

- Either you're kidding me or the blow you received in the head was nasty. I would bet you already ate meatballs.

- Yes.

She lost her smile.

- Are you kidding me?

- No, I'm nasty ... I mean a blow to the head ... it was nasty. What the f**k was I even saying to that girl? I sounded like a Rain Man without intelligence. I had to stop talking.

- I'm sorry to hear that. It looks painful.

- I'm not in pain now. I think I smiled and shook my head, but I can’t be sure.

Call me a village fool due to the fact I knew I turned into performing like that. However, I really fell in love with the sound of her voice. She handed me a tray, this time watching me closely. She must have disgusted my looks and my demeanor, but she didn't show it.

- Yes, please. I took another dumpling, but I didn't eat it. You are Australian.

- You're an American,  she said, winking at me before turning to serve the other guests.

I watched her leave, feeling the pounding of my heart pulse throughout my body. Something just happened to me. I wasn’t entirely sure what, but the reason was crystal clear to me. She.

***

I DIDN’T go as I planned. I stayed at that silly party to stalk a girl I didn’t know. I, Cristian Richards, became a spy at that point, but I wasn’t the least bit sorry. Oh, for the next hour and something I acted so well, chatting with people I barely paid any attention to so I could watch her stroll across the room, serving meatballs in her skirt and boots calling for f*****g. I even managed to paint a picture in my head of her wearing only those boots. My thoughts were dirty, so much so that my d**k wanted to take action. How else. This doesn’t happen to me in a room full of business associates. My d**k doesn’t just rise from watching a pretty girl serve food. Yes, it's rising. I also figured I wasn’t the only one watching her, and those boots didn’t help her blend in with the background at a banquet like this, where there were only men who would think about having s*x once every fifty-two seconds. Looking at her, it was impossible to think of anything else. I would f**k that nice ass nice and slow ... I wouldn't even take those f*****g boots off of her.

Kevin Aldrich was an investment banker, a bald and fat peasant, with a rich foundation he inherited from his great grandfather. He also had a spouse, three or four teenagers, and a drinking problem. The truth was that such beauties probably slept with him because he had enough money to overlook the fact that he was a complete jerk. I said nothing, but I felt my blood begin to boil. At that moment, I truly understood the meaning of the phrase "my blood boiled." Mine was on the verge of a nuclear explosion. Aldrich picked up the drink and almost salivated in her direction, calling to her. She spotted it and approached with a tray that, I knew, contained individual shrimp cocktails. I did not repeat the same mistake.

- Would you like a shrimp cocktail, gentlemen? she asked politely.

- We'd try you, Sexy Boots, Aldrich said, obviously grinning. Okay, the fellow turned into worse than a disgusting asshole. He was an i***t with social skills cockroach.

- Smart. I've only heard it fourteen times in the last hour and a half, she said is smooth. She repeated, obviously displeased, which could be clearly seen in her golden eyes.

However, Aldrich was too drunk or too stupid to realize when he had had enough. 

-AND your number maybe? I'll take you somewhere where we can eat shrimp for as long as we can. He snapped his tongue, and I was pissed. What a boil of blood, I wanted to kill him.

- No f*****g way, Aldrich, you didn't do just that?

Almost instantly, he did two more really stupid things. He provided an arm and wrapped it around her to draw her body to his and said to me:

-Don’t stop me and Sexy Boots. We just meet, and she meets us it seems that a slow ride in those hours would be good for her ... 

Aldrich, however, did not finish the sentence because he received it lightning-fast and skillful defensive move of the elbow to the nose. Her elbow. In his nose. Too bad I tried to arrive first and push him away from her. The back of his ball head stuck to my chin so it fell hard, dragging me with it, as well as cocktail glasses -sauces and flying pink shrimp scattered in the bows, catching anyone who found themselves within a five-foot radius.

There was silence as all conversations fell silent and turned our attention to us.

- f*****g b***h! You broke my nose! Aldrich shouted from behind his palm trying to stop the blood gushing from his evil leaves.

- You touched me. No one has the right to do that anymore and go unpunished, she told him in a steely voice before running off in the direction of the kitchen.

 I pushed him away and stood up. - f*****g stupid move, man. Damn stupid, "I said, taking off the shrimp that stuck to my jacket with its tail.

- But she attacked me. You saw it yourself, Richards! he shouted. I'm going to sue that b***h and get damn f*****g w***e!

I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him towards me, slipping into his face.

- You won't do anything like that or you may remorse it. Go to your house to your spouse and family if they will receive you like this at all.

- f**k you, Richards. But it sounded more like: - Emmy, Richstad, thanks to a broken nose. That's why it didn't sound very impressive.

An arrogant asshole.

- And call a taxi to protect citizens from themselves, I added. - You're f*****g drunk and standing, let alone driving.

Then I let him go, watching him fall to the floor and stretch across him, soaked in his own blood and a large amount of shrimp cocktail. I found her arguing with the chef in the kitchen.

- Why the hell did you hit him?

- s****l assault is illegal, i***t. Why the hell did you put me in this situation tonight, Martin, and then leave me to that pack of dogs over there? Do you know what I had to endure tonight? ”

Ouch. I sincerely hoped she didn’t put me in the same category as the rest of those dogs. She reached into the front pocket of the purple apron wrapped round her waist and took out a lot of enterprise cards and tossed them at the boss.

- So many dogs want to get to know me better and have a f*****g good time with me, emphasis on f*****g! I shouldn’t have to deal with things like that while trying to work.

- Jesus Christ, he's right.

- Oh, f**k, Sarah, it wasn't that bad. You overreacted. It really isn't.

- He put his hands on my ass and slammed his tongue, and you think I exaggerated?

Her boss at least had enough brains to silence the last comment.

- Go back there and get names and numbers, apologize and clean up the mess. We will have to pay for at least dry cleaning. Do it and you can keep the job.

I don't think you know your employee. She's done asshole. She looked at him in shock for a moment, her mouth gaping, then put her hands down and began to untie her apron. It took her a few seconds to untie the laces, but as time went on, her anger, radiating from her, grew visibly greater. The i***t from her boss just stood there and watched her, waiting for her to throw off her apron. Which she did. She tossed it at his feet, on the scattered pile of business cards the dogs had given her. Good girl.

- No, thank you, Martin. I quit, and you never tried to call me again. Smart girl.

- Sarah! he shouted after her. Who will pay for all this ?!

I think it will be you, Martin. But Sarah had already grabbed her belongings, standing in front of the door the last time she turned, so violently that the hair in her ponytail curled around her neck. She was very angry, but her composure was magnificent — and the words, uttered by that accent of hers, evoked awe. I couldn't look away from anything.

- Take it from my last paycheque. And then you can f**k off.

My d**k is so stiff because of this girl. Then Sarah really left.

- I will pay the damages, but I sincerely doubt that there will be any damages. The guy who grabbed her was definitely exaggerating, and I saw the whole thing. I will also cover the cost of dry cleaning.

I handed the fool my business card and left it in the kitchen, my mouth gaping like a goldfish dying. I stuck up together along with her on the road in which she was waiting for a taxi. She measured me as I approached her, but she didn't say a word.

- Hey, those were pretty impressive defensive moves, I said.

- I'm sorry you found yourself in the middle of a fire. She nodded at my suit, which had been ruined by a shrimp cocktail.

I shrugged.

- It'll clean up. And you? Are you okay after that disaster?

- I'll be fine when I get home. Her voice didn't sound as loud as before.

I sensed her adrenaline dropping a bit. She was upset, and rightly so.

- Can I take you? My automobile may be right here in 5 minutes, and I’ll be satisfied to take you any place you want to go.

She shook her head.

- That's impossible unless your vehicle can drive on water surface. She looked at her watch. "Besides, I don't know you and I'd never get in a car with a man I don't know."

- Alright, I told her. Even though I turned into disappointed that she could now no longer take delivery of my offer, I needed to consider her overriding logic.

A girl who looks like her should definitely not go out with any man she doesn’t know. It would be dangerous. For some reason, I was disturbed by the thought of her and in what danger.

"I'm really sorry you had to put up with that crowd tonight." I hope I didn't do anything to offend you ...

 I noticed you get up to him, and." And No, you did not offend me along with your lack of knowledge approximately about meatballs. I'm glad I helped you solve that problem. Now you’re a gourmand of a unprecedented delicacy referred to as meatball, and also you owe all of it to me, she answered with a touch of a smile.

She was great, trying to joke even though it was obvious she was still upset about that s**t that happened to her at the party. She looked beautiful but very ... Sad. If I needed to pick a phrase to explain the way it regarded to me, that phrase might need to be sad. And it bothered me a lot.

- Thanks for teaching me about meatballs. I enjoyed it. I'm Cristian, by the way. Cristian Rich…

I was interrupted by her cell phone, which rang with the strange but unmistakable sound of Ricky Martin's "Shake Your Bon-Bon." An interesting choice, I thought, when she turned to answer.

- f**k, I'm so glad you called me.

A word of f**k with that accent

- Damn ...

- I still get to catch the ferry at eight-thirty if I hurry, so I'm going home anyway. I won't sleep with you. Ah.

This is impossible unless your car can float on water. I get it.

- A long, hard story. I'll just tell you I'm looking for another job.

Does she need another job?

- See you tomorrow.

Edit where I saw her.

- I love you too.

Boyfriend or just a friend? My spy skills were improving more and more at any given moment if I were now able to eavesdrop on entire conversations and decipher them. I heard every word she uttered. The taxi stopped, and as she entered, she said very clearly to the driver:

Richmond Island Ferry Company.

I watched as her taxi turned into traffic and pulled away until it disappeared from my sight. She didn't even look back to greet me. She didn't even tell me her name, but I knew her name was Sarah. Sarah lived on Richmond Island and worked in a design studio near Starbucks. She was beautiful, witty, and combative. I was also more than impressed by her resolute attitude she showed towards the boss and the guests. Sarah was not a delicate flower, and besides, she had the most beautiful voice I had heard. That become all of the statistics I had controlled to acquire approximately her, but I had gathered quite enough of it that I could find her again if I wished. But there was no if. When. And that was more than enough.