Secret Nights with the Billionaire

Season 1, Episode 7: A French Connection

SATURDAY

Natalie stood inside the lobby of the Grand Lisboa, pacing nervously as she kept checking her phone. She had barely made it on time, and his car was obviously running a couple of minutes late.

Smoothing her dress nervously, she scanned the lobby quickly once more. Her eyes admired the wide columns that held up the ceiling, which was covered in circular light fixtures. An art display of white flowers hung from wires attached to the ceiling, and they ran the entire length of the lobby on both sides of the front entrance. White marble floor tiles stretched in both directions, and the click of her heels was lost in the din of the busy lobby.

She had purposefully selected a modest pencil dress with long sleeves. It was a simple, yet professional black dress with a dainty belt secured around her waistline. Connie had helped to style her hair in a chignon while Natalie did her own makeup to save time, before she hailed a taxi to make it across the peninsula to the lotus-shaped skyscraper.

She couldn’t help but wonder why he was going to all this trouble with her. Sure, they had shared a night of mind-blowing s*x the night before, but he was a Belvedere – he could have any woman he wanted. Surely, he had better things to do than spend his evenings with his staff while on his business trip.

As soon as Finnick Belvedere stepped into the lobby, Natalie felt her heart beginning to race once again. Her eyes scanned his tight-fitted navy suit, which accentuated his broad chest and shoulders. His eyes glanced around the lobby from his chiseled face until they landed on Natalie, and they lit up in recognition.

Looking entirely too debonair for her comfort, he crossed the lobby with a mischievous smirk on his face, strolling casually through the crowd of tourists as he approached. Natalie took a nervous gulp as he walked toward her, trying to will her nervous, racing heart to slow down.

“Good evening, Natalie,” he greeted, eying her up and down. “You look lovely tonight, but you didn’t have to dress up for me!”

“It’s a nice restaurant with a dress code,” she answered curtly. “Shall we head upstairs?”

“But what about dinner?” he asked, stepping closer to her.

“I mean, the restaurant is on the top floor,” she explained, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes.

“You weren’t asking me up to your hotel room?” he joked, pretending to be shocked by her behavior.

“No,” she shook her head. “Our reservation is at the Robuchon au Dôme, which has spectacular views of the city from the top floor of the hotel.”

“Sounds romantic,” he winked. “Lead the way.”

Natalie turned quickly on her heel and walked toward the elevators, not even bothering to see if he was keeping up with her. She breathed a sigh of relief as other people crowded into the elevator with them, since she didn’t want to be awkwardly alone in the elevator with him.

Especially after what happened the last time they shared an elevator ride.

As the elevator pinged open, light piano music reached their ears as the occupants emptied out into the restaurant. Natalie’s eyes gazed around the restaurant in awe as they made their way to the host stand. The glass windows stacked in triangular shapes all around, offering 360-degree views of the city below. The glass came up to a domed point high above their heads, allowing the diners to eat beneath the night sky, and a massive, crystal chandelier spiraled down above a grand piano in the center of the restaurant.

Natalie’s heels seemed to glide across the plush carpet as their host led them to a table next to the window. He handed them their menus and placed their napkins in their laps for them before disappearing from the table.

The glittering skyline of casinos cut through the foggy evening, giving the city a hazy, neon glow below.

“I can already tell this is an excellent choice,” said Mr. Belvedere approvingly.

Before Natalie could respond, a well-dressed waiter had already appeared at their table.

“May I offer you a cocktail?” he asked, glancing at Natalie.

“Just a sparkling water for me, please,” she said hastily.

“I’ll take an Old Fashioned,” Mr. Belvedere answered.

When the waiter disappeared, he glanced over at Natalie.

“You sure you don’t want something else to drink?” he asked. “Dinner and drinks are on the hotel, after all.”

“I can’t,” she replied curtly. “This is technically a work dinner, so I’m not supposed to drink. Hotel policy.”

“Wow, you’re not as much fun as I remember,” he chuckled, leaning back in his seat. His hand ran across his stubbled jawline, appraising her with a humorous expression.

Natalie sighed, steeling herself for the tough conversation that was about to come.

“I thought we were going to pretend like last night didn’t happen,” she said, avoiding his gaze as she stared at her menu. “But clearly I was wrong.”

“Why would we pretend like it never happened?” he asked. “That was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

“We really should forget about it altogether and keep things professional,” she continued. “I really don’t want to lose my job.”

Even though she didn’t glance up, she could feel his deep, brown eyes studying her closely from across the table, which made her incredibly nervous.

Fortunately, she was rescued by the waiter, who approached their table to promptly deliver their drinks, before he could make a snide remark. Natalie sipped on her water nervously while the waiter stepped back, waiting silently. It took her a minute to realize that he was waiting for them to order, which was a custom she was still getting used to here in Macau.

Quickly, she glanced over the menu, eager to place her entrée order to get this dinner over with as soon as possible. However, Mr. Belvedere beat her to it.

“Let’s start with an order of caviar for an appetizer, shall we?”

The waiter nodded and disappeared from the table, leaving Natalie to groan inwardly.

I guess this dinner is going to take longer than anticipated, she thought dejectedly.

“Alright,” he finally said, breaking the tense silence between them. “I can respect that. I should be glad that we have such a professional team working at our hotel. Can we at least be friends?”

Natalie sighed as relief began to wash over her. Finally, they were clearing the air, and they could put this whole fiasco behind them.

“Sure,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Good,” he nodded. “Now that all that’s settled, I looked into you a bit today.”

Natalie almost spit out her water, but instead she began coughing when it went down the wrong way. After regaining her composure, she glanced up at him with wide eyes.

“You…looked into me?” she squeaked timidly.

“Yes,” he answered, as if that was a perfectly normal thing to do to someone he’d just met only yesterday. “I saw that you put in the transfer request from the Las Vegas hotel to Macau, and I’m curious as to why.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, nobody just packs up their life and moves to a small territory in the South China Sea on a whim,” he challenged, studying her closely with curiosity. “So, why did you do it?”

“Well,” Natalie said, taking a sip of her water as the seconds ticked by, “I was just looking for a change in scenery. You know, something new and exciting.”

“Bullshit,” he snorted.

“It’s not bullshit!” she insisted quickly. “As a casino hostess, I make my money off of commissions from my players. Macau has three times the gaming revenue as the entire state of Nevada, but less than half the number of casinos of Las Vegas alone, so there’s a real opportunity for me here.”

“Yes, I am very well aware of the statistics,” he chuckled, but the intensity of his gaze did not let up. “You don’t need to rattle them off to me. What’s the real reason you’re here?”

Does he know? she wondered with a start, her eyes growing wide with fear.

“Just how deep did you go into my employee file?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“I mean, nothing invasive,” he replied. “Obviously, I’d break a lot of laws digging around in HR’s files. I just know you requested the transfer.”

Okay, maybe he doesn’t know, then, she thought with hesitant relief.

“Let’s just say I was ready to start over,” she said firmly. “Can we leave it at that?”

“Fine,” he sighed, scrutinizing her for a moment longer before taking a sip of his drink.

The waiter approached with their plate of caviar, which was presented on a white plate with a filigree silver border. The black caviar was arranged in a perfect circle in the middle of a yellow butter sauce, with white caviar placed in concentric circles around the dish.

“Would you be opposed to me ordering an entrée for you?” Mr. Belvedere asked.

“No, go right ahead,” she shrugged.

Honestly, the menu was a bit overwhelming with all the French phrases, so she was actually grateful for the offer.

“I will take the duck, and for the lady, the risotto,” he said quickly, handing his menu to the waiter. “And can you bring out your best wine pairing for both dishes?”

Natalie also offered her menu before the waiter disappeared once again with nothing more than a nod.

“So, Natalie,” Mr. Belvedere asked, turning his complete focus back onto her. “Are you originally from Las Vegas, or are you from elsewhere?”

“Oh, right.” Natalie quickly swallowed the bite of caviar from her spoon. “I grew up in a small town in Colorado. I moved to Las Vegas as soon as I graduated high school and became a blackjack dealer. I just worked my way up the ranks from there to become a casino hostess.”

“Fascinating,” he said, watching her intently. “I can imagine the small town life was a bit stifling for a firecracker like you.”

Natalie had to suppress a laugh.

“You have no idea,” she answered with a smile. “What about you? Aren’t you a Las Vegas native?”

“I am,” he nodded. “I see you’ve done your homework on me as well.”

“That’s not necessarily true, since your father is the CEO of the company I work for,” she shrugged.

“Right,” he agreed, although a hint of disappointment flashed across his face. “Yes, I was born and raised in Las Vegas, although I went to Wharton for college. Had to get my business degree to work for the company, since I’ll be taking over as CEO one day.”

“Oh, wow!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening. “I had no idea I was sitting with such American royalty!”

He threw his head back and laughed at her sarcastic remark.

“I’d hardly consider the Belvederes royalty,” he chuckled. “But if that means you see me as a prince, then perhaps I should change my perspective.”

Natalie was about to open her mouth to remind him to keep things professional, but the waiter approached their table with their wine glasses, setting a glass of white wine in front of her, and a glass of red wine in front of Finnick Belvedere.

“I really shouldn’t be drinking, Mr. Belvedere,” she insisted.

“Please, call me Finn,” he replied quickly. “Mr. Belvedere sounds like you’re addressing my father. Besides, we’re friends now, right? We should be on a first-name basis.”

“Okay, fine, Finn,” she shot back. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I shouldn’t be drinking at a work dinner.”

“But you obviously need to relax,” he chuckled. “You’ve been so wound up all day, and a glass of wine will help. Besides, I won’t tell HR if you won’t.”

She glanced back at his playful, amused expression as he took a sip from his glass. Wine might be necessary if she was going to make it out of this dinner without having a heart attack.

“Fine,” she sighed, raising her glass to toast with him. “To breaking the rules.”

“Cheers to that,” he grinned.