The Billion Dollar Contract

Chapter Eleven

Mia

Adam and I never had a relationship more than just an employer with an employee. Despite working late and spending more time at the office with each other, we knew our boundaries—we never broke the rules because we both knew it could become a bad situation if anything happened. I kept my distance as a very good employee and he kept his professionalism.

It was one thing I appreciated most. Until he dropped the 'fiancé' bomb on me in front of his mother, which made me run out of options. If I had run out of the restaurant, it was bound to create a scene. I was never the one to embarrass my boss. If only, just only, he had given me a heads-up, and maybe I could've acted better.

I had a feeling that he never planned this to happen. Maybe, just maybe, he was frustrated with his mother and all he wanted to do was make sure she stopped asking him to get married. He wanted to appear as if he was in a serious relationship with someone and that his dear mother could leave him alone; I was crossing my fingers for this to work. Not only because I was being a good employee to my sexy and hot boss, but I also needed the money he was going to offer me.

As soon as our deal was done, I could start a new life with that money—I could quit my job, which was going to be necessary when we decided to end our engagement contract, and I could open a café, just like how I always wanted ever since I dreaded going to a nine to five job. However, for now, I was going to put my best act and become the perfect fianceé to my dear boss.

I was going to fake it, pretend it as good as I could, that nobody could tell we were lying.

Then, I began to think about Jean and I felt horrible. I had agreed with her son to enter an engagement contract where we were going to act as lovers because he wanted to run away from any responsibilities. Jean was excited, she was thrilled and wanted nothing more but the best for her son because, believe me, I could clearly see it on her face when Adam told her. I knew he regretted it a little bit whenever he was home alone, and it crossed his mind, but for a person like Adam, he just wanted things to go his way. Nothing was going to stop him.

He had the money. He had the looks. He had charm.

He could get every single thing he wanted. Nobody was getting in his way.

And here I was, in the kitchen, helping my supposedly future mother-in-law while he was in his office, getting some work done.

That was nothing new about Adam. He never knew when to rest; he was a workaholic. I was so sure that whenever he fell asleep, he was dreaming about his workload too. I never saw him leave earlier than anyone else in the office, even though he came earlier. Sometimes, I swore I saw him taking a few minutes of a break, but then he got back to work as if he was running on a deadline every day. If I were him, I would've taken a few days off whenever because all the hard work and all the stress at the office were never worth it.

"Adam seems really happy," Jean said, interrupting my thoughts.

I smiled, looking down at the cordial drink I had been making. "Do you really think so?"

Jean turned to look at me, placing her hand on my shoulder. "I see it with my own eyes. He seems a bit more relaxed and easy-going with you around. Believe me, we haven't been grocery shopping together or cooking at home for dinner in the longest time. He was always busy with work and, honestly, I've been missing my son a bit too much. Sometimes, I feel like I'm losing him."

"You'll never lose him. I'm sorry if you have been feeling that way all this time," I replied.

"Oh, dear. It's not your fault if that is how I've been feeling," she shook her head, sighing. "If there was anybody to blame, it would be me and Marc. You know, Adam could've had a little brother, but I had a miscarriage, and we couldn't get over the fact that Adam was our only hope. Our only heir. So, we may have been a little bit too hard on him growing up."

No doubt. Adam was an only child, he had to carry the responsibilities and the dreams of his parents. They wanted what was best for him, and they were lucky because he became the best out of them all. He succeeded in his studies, appearing to succeed in his career and life—he was becoming the perfect son any parent could ever want. Marc and Jean were proud parents. Even though Adam wasn't self-made, his parents were rich enough to support him, but he never took advantage of that.

I respected him because of how he was.

"You both raised a wonderful son, Jean."

Her eyes watered a little, "That's very nice of you to say. I do hope he has been kind to you, Mia."

"He has been more than kind to me. Please, don't worry."

"I do worry about him sometimes. I know, and I understand that he's a grown man, but he will always be a little boy to me. Now, he has you and I just want to make sure that he can be fully responsible towards you. I've always raised him to respect and treasure the woman he loves," she responded.

I had continued to help Jean in the kitchen as we talked and laughed about Adam's childhood stories. When we were done, we had gone to the living room where she took out some of his baby pictures. Adam was adorable and chubby when he was a child; the part where Jean seemed to miss the most. She kept telling the story of when Adam had first learned to ride a bicycle and he fell. They had to rush to the hospital, and he had gotten about four stitches to his knee—Jean had cried because she was worried, even when Adam didn't shed a tear.

I pointed at a picture of Adam in a pink dress, "Is that still him?"

"I didn't think I had brought that with me. Don't tell Adam," she laughed.

"Don't tell me what?"

Jean and I both looked up at a standing Adam, near the hallway before he made his way towards us. He had come to sit beside me, wrapping his arm around my body as he snuggled close; it took me a few seconds to readjust my body and act natural. I didn't expect his warmth to overwhelm me as he placed a short kiss on my shoulder, "Been talking about me behind my back, baby?"

I chuckled nervously, looking at Jean.

"I was just showing Mia your baby pictures," Jean responded.

"Mmm, I'm pretty sure she finds them interesting."

"As a matter of fact, I do. Especially when I saw you in that pink dress,"

Jean and I burst out laughing, we couldn't hide our laughter anymore. Adam, on the other hand, continued to stare at me with a smirk plastered on his face.

He tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear, saying nothing at all. As my laughter died down, I cleared my throat before shifting in my seat.

Jean didn't seem to notice anything as she put away the pictures, "I'm going to check on the chicken. Then, we can have our dinner."

It wasn't a good idea to leave me alone with her son, but I couldn't object. I was going to stand up and follow her to the kitchen, but Adam had grabbed my hand, making sure I was staying put in my spot. Our faces were inches apart when I had turned to look at him and I knew better not to move if I didn't want to feel his lips—besides, Jean had gone to the kitchen and there was no one else here for us to put a show on.

I blinked a few times, trying to control my breath. "I won't tell anyone."

"About what?"

"You in that pink dress," I bit onto my lower lip, preventing myself from laughing.

"Really? You seem to really enjoy looking at me in that dress, especially with the ruffles."

Adam's fingers were slowly caressing my arm, as if it was something normal for us. Both of his eyes were focusing on mine and, honestly, I never thought I could feel this nervous around him. I felt as if my heart was going to thump out of my chest, he was really making me feel uneasy. Uneasy but in a good way.

"Not really. I just find it cute," I muttered.

"Why are your cheeks red, Mia?"

I shook my head, "They're not."

"They are. I'm the one looking."

I felt like a turtle trying to hide in its shell. Unfortunately, I couldn't hide even if I wanted to.

Adam slowly reached out to touch my face, and it surprised me at how big his hand could cover.

"You're warm, too." He added, "Are you nervous?"

I cleared my throat, "Far from it. I'm just hot. You're being too close!"

As I kept trying to move away from him, he wasn't giving me a chance as he kept holding me close. Our noses were almost touching as he kept moving forward, but before our lips could meet, Jean had called out our names from the kitchen, which caused me to turn around, standing up and quickly leaving him on the sofa.

I stood quietly for a few minutes behind the wall, making sure I was out of his sight. As I calmed myself down, I placed a hand on my chest and wondered why my body was starting to betray me.