Playing With The Billionaire

Chapter 2

ELOISE

“God, Eloise! What were you doing over there?” Jenna accused me incredulously and on the verge of laughing.

“That was embarrassing, Jenna! Where were you? That guy out there made me a laughingstock because of you!”

She burst into laughter. “Are you crazy? Did you really think I know a guy like him? I mean, just look at him,” Jenna continued to laugh.

“I know, I know,” I sighed.

“He’s hot. Want to go back?”

“It’s not funny. Get me out of here, cover my face, do something!” I rolled my eyes.

“I’m sorry. Did you seriously think it was him? Oh, God.” She cleared her throat. “By the way, this is Nick. Nick, meet Eloise.”

Nick seemed decent. He had a preppy appearance—polished and youthful. He wasn’t exactly the person Jenna had described. No wonder I mistook Mr. Suit for him. But honestly, I didn’t care anymore. Nick shook my hand and started a conversation.

“Pleasure to finally meet you, Eloise.”

I managed a half-hearted smile. “Likewise.”

We settled at our reserved table, with Jenna sitting beside me.

“So, Nick, tell me about this yacht of yours,” Jenna began while I remained silent.

“Oh, yes! I’d love for you to come aboard and sail with me,” he said.

I nodded, pretending to smile, but deep down, I wanted to go home.

Jenna and Nick engaged in a conversation that flew right over my head. I simply listened and gulped on my wine.

At one point, Nick tried to place his hand on my waist, but I evaded his advances. Unfortunately, I had to endure a pointless blind date because I had lost interest. Maybe if I hadn’t encountered Mr. Suit, I might have given Nick a chance. Oh God, but if this was the only way to salvage the earlier embarrassment, so be it. I would sit with Nick and engage in idle chatter.

I stole a glance in Mr. Suit’s direction, still curious about him. He glared at me, his gray eyes piercing and intimidating, as if he were about to explode. He was sipping his champagne while his gaze remained fixed on the three of us. I averted my eyes when I felt Nick’s hand inching closer to my shoulder again. I quickly shifted my gaze to Nick, who smiled sweetly at me and rambled about incomprehensible topics.

I looked back at Mr. Suit, only to discover he had left.

It had been an hour since I was seated in the restaurant, and Jenna had already left me alone with Nick. Nick turned out to be quite indecent, and it became painfully clear that he had ulterior motives for being here.

“I have a political science degree and secured a government position under a state governor. It’s a shame we won’t be able to exchange ideas about politics. What do you say?” he said, trying to impress me.

“I’m not into politics, anyway,” I replied simply, taking a bite of my food.

“But women these days have to be. Besides, you don’t look like someone who works in the film industry. You look... plain. Aren’t people there supposed to shine? What about your fashion inspiration? Is that the new trend?” he continued with his insensitive remarks.

What? Plain? My blood boiled.

What was wrong with wearing a shirt and slacks instead of a dress? “I just came from the office,” I explained.

He shrugged. “But you look good enough with that ginger head of yours. It’s actually a fantasy of mine to have a girlfriend who’s a redhead. I had so many ideas about what to do in bed with you. How about we finish this dinner and invite me to your place? This night will be more interesting!” He took a big bite of his steak, gulped his wine, and loudly chewed his food like a maniac.

I cringed. I had reached my limit. It felt as though he was purposefully pushing my limits. He’d already insulted me more than enough.

I stood up abruptly.

“Yes?” he asked, looking surprised.

“I’ll just go to the restroom.” I excused myself, but I cunningly escaped from the restaurant. The room spun around me, and my vision blurred. I was so intoxicated that my body became a marionette beyond my control.

Goddammit, Jenna! How could she leave me like that? That guy was seeking nothing more than ‌casual f**k. I hadn’t signed up for that.

Blind dates were now completely off the table. I should accept forgetting about the whole marriage ordeal.

All my friends had tied the knot except for Jenna and me. Well, she deliberately chose the single life. She was a stunning blonde, and everyone loved her. She liked to revel in her singlehood until she reached thirty-five. She wanted to enjoy the freedom of being unattached.

None of this would have happened if my ex-boyfriend had been honest, allowing me to move forward.

Dear God, why was I even reminiscing about Chase now? He shattered my confidence. No, it wasn’t his fault. It was my stupidity. I lost him to a cousin—of all the people in the world.

She was well aware of how deeply I loved Chase. I poured out my heart, expressing my dream of marrying him. So, what did she do? What had I done to deserve such a betrayal?

How could a cousin who is practically like a sibling steal my boyfriend? Heck, Zoey. She was the devil behind all of this!

“It’s not my fault Chase chose me. Did you really think he could love someone like you? You can’t even take care of yourself!”

Were those words really coming from a true family?

But it had been six years since I cut them into my life. I went to Edinburgh to finish my degree, and I have been doing fine alone. Now, I had the best career in the film industry back in Manhattan, and I was paid well.

But damn it. I heard Chase and Zoey were doing well in their careers now, and they were filthy rich. I was lucky I hadn’t crossed paths with them since I was back in New York last year.

I stumbled through the parking lot, searching for my car. After finally finding that shiny silver thing, I clumsily rummaged through my purse for my keys. But, oh boy... I was about to puke, and it could happen any second now.

There was no time to search for a decent spot. I puked right out of my car window. Ugh! Why does my life have to be like this?

“Hey!” Suddenly, some guy appeared behind me, and I turned to face him.

His face was unforgettable, like the definition of perfection. How could I ever forget? He was the sexiest man I’d ever seen. Mr. Suit, as I called him in my mind.

“What did you do to my window?” he blurted out, running his fingers through his hair.

“I’m so sorry,” shifting my gaze back to the car—the silver, shiny Aston Martin my father had given me because he didn’t know what to do with his money.

The pain in my chest grew stronger as it felt like the people I loved had abandoned me for selfish reasons. What the hell did I do so wrong?

“Wait. This is my car,” I whispered.

“This is mine,” Mr. Suit snapped, clearly annoyed.

My head was pounding, and my vision was blurry. “Hold on, Mr...” I stumbled toward him, bursting into silly laughter. “Are you drunk? It’s my car,” I insisted, chuckling.

“So you’re trying to tell me your car is an Aston Martin?” he smirked, mocking me.

“Yeah! Dad gave it to me last year. Can you believe it? He pretends he cares, leaving me with this car and ten-million-dollar apartment I don’t need. What good is an expensive house and a car when you can’t even be there for your family?” I laughed uncontrollably, tears streaming down my face. Did I really spill all that to him?

He let out a frustrated breath. “Let’s just say we have the same car—with the same color, which is strange, but you’re clearly wasted, so please step aside. What am I supposed to do with this?” He pointed at the mess on his window.

“You’re quite the comedian, stealing someone else’s car. Is that your day job?” I laughed until I got dizzy from shaking my head. He caught me before I fell.

I hiccupped. I needed to go home, and he needed to stop claiming it was his car.

Another wave of nausea hit me. “Wait!” I blurted out and promptly threw up again. This time, right onto his vest.

“Seriously.” He groaned, letting go of me and guiding me aside.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t help it,” I mumbled, wiping my mouth.

“This is insane,” he muttered. He removed his suit jacket, leaving only his white shirt and vest. “Stay still.” He pulled me back towards him, his hand wrapping around my waist, sending tiny electric bolts on my skin, and chivalrously used the suit fabric to clean my mouth, then wiped off the mess from the window with it.

“Better?”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“Now, what am I supposed to do with you?” He looked gravely at my face.

“Please don’t leave me. I can’t drive.” I hiccupped again and giggled. “You’ll be the prime suspect if anything happens to me,” I crooned. “I just wanted to go home. I felt so sick.”

He sighed and opened the car door. “Alright, get in.”

I couldn’t refuse. I wasn’t sure if I could even stand anymore. My knees felt like jelly. I climbed into the passenger seat, and he slammed the door. Then he took the driver’s seat.

“Where do you live?”

“The Mondrian, East 54th Street,” I whispered.

I heard the engine start as I slowly closed my eyes, realizing the car smelled like musk and sandalwood, completely different from mine, before I drifted off to sleep.