365 Days with My Billionaire

CHAPTER 5

ONYX

The weather was chillier than I expected once I stepped out of the building. Little drops of snow fell from the sky as I looked ahead. Surburbia, the place Kathy used to get my morning coffee from, was being turned to rubble right before my eyes. A crane was moving cement and residue from one point to the other, along with workers in their thick boots, shoveling the snow that had managed to gather in front of the building.

“Where am I supposed to get coffee from now?” I wondered, a deep frown gracing my cheeks. Surburbia’s coffee was a far cry from being the best in Angelwood, but it was drinkable. As I deliberated about my next move, my phone rang. Without looking at the caller ID, I swiped.

“Onyx Bradford,” I answered tightly.

“Right behind you, Onyx.”

I turned in time to see Bryson emerging from the company building with a big smile on his face. I gave him a scowl in return and he raised a thick brow.

“Would it kill you to smile?’ he called out.

Would it kill you to be on time for work?

I turned my attention back to the demolition of Surburbia as Bryson stood beside me.

“Now I see why you’re in a foul mood. Surburbia’s gone and never coming back. I heard the owner sold it for a pretty penny and it’s going to be converted to a bookstore,” Bryon explained. I grunted and he put his arms around my neck.

“Would you stop that?"

“No,” Bryson answered cheekily. “Aren’t you happy to be alive? To smell the snow?” Hardly. “I swear, you’re worse than that blue grumpy Smurf.”

It was my turn to raise a brow. “Did you just compare me to a Smurf?”

He nodded and I sighed. How he even knew about the Smurfs was beyond me but I wasn’t going to question him about it.

Bryson and I were the same height, standing at six-foot-one although Bryson loved to tell people he was taller by an inch, much to my dismay. He was of African-American descent; his father was an immigrant from Ghana and his mother, was from the Caribbean.

His outfit contrasted mine drastically which was again another display of our distinct personality traits: grey track pants from Adidas, a red T-shirt tucked into them, and dark converse. His afro, which he sported on most days, was braided into cornrows.

Bryson looked like he stepped out of a sports-magazine cover even though we had discussed the dress code of the company numerous times.

Suit and slacks. It was that simple.

“You were supposed to be at the company hours ago.”

Bryson was supposed to help me with the interviews, but he was a no-show. It wasn’t that he was unreliable, I’d never have formed a company with someone I couldn’t depend on, but he knew that I’d be just fine on my own. It was an interview for my personal assistant so I’d know better.

Still, a second opinion was necessary, especially if that opinion was from my best friend.

To pacify me, Bryson rubbed my back and I shrugged him off. “I told you I was downstairs. Plus, I was busy.’’

“f*****g a bimbo?”

Bryson was attractive. Magazine articles and news outlets dubbed him as ‘Lakeith Stanfield’s twin.’ He did have some facial similarities with the actor, save in exception for the mustache. He liked a smooth plane.

“Among other things,” Bryson smirked.

Typical.

“Since Surburbia is...well what it is now, how about we go to Coffee Hop?” He always spoke highly of the place but I was too busy to go with him. They apparently had the best soy latte in the entire country although that was most likely an exaggeration.

“Coffee Hop is two blocks from here,” I groaned. “You’re driving if we’re going.”

“It’s not that far.” It was snowing for f***s sake! “Plus you need the exercise. I’m sure your back is stiffer than a rock because you’re cooped up in your office all day.”

“I’m not walking because it’s snowing,” I insisted. Granted, the snow was not heavy, but the weather forecast had predicted that things might take a turn later in the day. Plus, I was freezing my ass off just standing here.

Without waiting for his response, I said. “Meet me at the parking lot.”

…………………………….

‘’How are the interviews going?’’

I took a sip of my black coffee, letting the caffeine register into my system. My headache was subsiding which was a good sign and I wasn’t as irritable as I was this morning. Coffee Hop was a quaint, coffee shop, housed between a bakery and a clothing store. They didn’t have a lot of customers this afternoon, thus, it was quiet enough for me to gather my thoughts together. Bryson had good taste even though it pained me to admit it. The oil paintings on the walls, coupled with the hand-made wooden chairs and tables gave the coffee house a chill vibe.

It was nice and different from what I was used to.

“Good. I’ve found a few candidates I like. I’ll run them by you and we’d make the final decision together.’’

“Noted. But, why couldn’t you leave it to HR? That’s their job.’’

“I don’t trust HR with anything concerning me. I fired Kathy yesterday.’’ A look of surprise and curiosity graced his face as he waited for an explanation.

“So the interviews were for a new personal assistant?”

I slanted my eyes. “I sent you a text yesterday, didn’t I?’’

Bryson looked at me bashfully. “Oops.”

“You’re irredeemable.”

I took another sip of my coffee and continued. “I had the intention of firing her months ago. She messed up my calendar and I ended up missing the meeting with Mr Han.’’

‘’The investor?’’

‘’Him. He scheduled the meeting for four pm but Kathy said it was six. He got pissed. I looked irresponsible and so I fired her. She was a pain in the proverbial ass.’’ She overstayed her welcome because I knew she was a single mother and needed all the help she could get. I paid her last salary in full yesterday and added a bonus for the sake of her son.

I wasn’t a heartless jerk after all.

“Yikes. Did you at least explain s**t to him? I heard he’s a grouch but he doesn’t look unreasonable.’’

“I did. He rescheduled the meeting for Saturday.’’ After a lot of begging on my part.

‘’You’ve been busy,’’ Bryson said with a proud smile. ‘’I like it.’’

‘’You’ve also been busy.” Bryson’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he put a bagel in his mouth. I burrowed my eyes into him and he lowered his back into the chair like a child who knew he was in trouble.

‘’I don’t know what you’re talking about.’’

Bryson was a bad liar. He knew damn well what I was talking about.

‘’The tabloids.’’

‘’Oh?”

“You made the headlines again. Congratu-f*****g-lations.’’ I avoided the media and the paparazzi like the bubonic plague. Ninety percent of the things they wrote about me were either untrue, completely false or was made a bigger deal than it actually was. Bryson however was a media magnet, stirring up trouble and conversation wherever he went.

He liked the attention.

“Really? A s*x orgy at a brothel?’’ I paid very close attention to anything written about him. Why? Because ninety-percent of them were true and pictures never lied. His publicist, Keira Snow, was most likely tired of him. She had warned him several times to be more discreet and sensible with his affairs, but Bryson never listened to anyone but himself, to an extent his parents, and me.

I pitied her. He made her work very difficult.

“That’s a lie,” Bryson adjusted his back. “Those tabloids need to mind their business.”

‘’Is it really a lie, Bryson?’

“Absolutely.’’ He took a sip of his soy latte, and dropped it on the table slowly, ready to prepare his defence. ‘’It was a hotel, not a brothel. I don’t frequent brothels anymore. The ladies there are too thirsty.’’

I sighed, a long and deep one, and ran my fingers through my hair. “You need to be more careful, Bryson. You might get a girl pregnant one day.” He visibly shivered. “and that, my friend would be the nail on the coffin.’’

He shook his head vigorously. “I always strap it before I tap it, Nyx. I’m safe.”

Are you really?

He continued. “You need to take a chill pill once in a while and live a little. When was the last time you had s*x?’’

‘’None of your business.’’

“See, it has been forever.’’

“I just said it’s none of your business,’’ I snapped and he gave me an amused smile.

Unlike Bryson, I didn’t flash my sexcapades like a diamond ring. I preferred my relationships lowkey and out of the spotlight. My preference for relationships was friends with benefits. It was easier that way. There was no form of emotional attachment, it was just s*x. The beauty of it all was the women I dealt with would never dare to run their mouths to the tabloids. They signed contracts that meant they would be sued if they breathed a word to anyone.

My last relationship ended five months ago because I was an i***t.

“It hasn’t been forever.’’ I stared out the window and looked at passers-by. “I’m just a little more discreet with my affairs.’’

Bryson waved me off. “Discreet, misfeet, the point is, you need to let loose once in a while. I’m a CEO and I’m not as uptight as you.’’

One of us had to be the responsible one in order to keep the company afloat.

‘’Maybe we could go to a club on Saturday, after your meeting with Mr Han. You need to get laid.’’

‘’Pass.’’

‘’You’re a party pooper,” he sulked.

“And you’re a careless party-goer.’’

“You could bring your sister, I haven’t seen her in forever.’’

My glare turned lethal. ‘’No, and if you so much as look in her direction, you're as good as dead.’’

Ayla was much too innocent to be tainted by his best friend.

“Sheesh, don’t get your panties in a twist.’’ He extended his half-eaten bagel as a peace offering but I declined. “I was just messing with you.’’

‘’Better.’’

“Speaking of families, are the parents still pressuring you to marry?’’

“They are and I’m sick of hearing it.”

My parents, Daniel and Grace Bradford, had been on my case since the day I clocked thirty on finding a wife. They wanted me to have a fairytale wedding and seemingly perfect marriage like they’d had for forty years. They wanted a wife and a child because I was the oldest and Ayla was still in college.

‘’Maybe you should take their advice,’’ Bryson shrugged and I glared at him again. ‘’You are getting older and time waits for no man,” he joked.

Whose side are you on?

‘’We’re thirty-five, the same age, asshole.’’

“That may be so, but you and I both know that between the two of us, you’re the one most likely to get married.’’

I begged to disagree. Save in exception for his man-w***e ways, Bryson was more husband-material than I was. He was nicer and more approachable.

“I’m not the commitment type but you are.’’

I instantly denied it. ‘’I’m not.’’

“You are,’’ He wasn't going to lose this argument because he thought he was right. “You just haven’t found the right one to commit to.’’

I wasn’t actively searching for the right one. What my parents had was, well what is was, and it brought forth my sister and I, but I didn’t see that future for me.

“You’re rich, successful, good-looking, and smart,’’ Bryson continued. “No homo, but it’s the truth. Girls dig that s**t but you have a stick so far up your ass so you can’t see it. You don’t give people a chance to know the real you, Onyx’’

“You know me.”

“We’re practically family. I don’t count.”

“I’m not interested in marriage,” I mumbled.

“Tell that to Daniel and Grace. Knowing them the way I do, they won’t stop till they get what they want. They’re like relentless bloodhounds.”

Bryson was not far from the truth. My parents knew how to always get their way, just like how my father practically forced me to study business when I really wanted to major in the arts.

‘’I’ll figure something out.’’

“Maybe you could hire a wife or something,’’ Bryson joked, stuffing the last bits of his bagel into his mouth.