Billionaire Decoded (3 page)

After he had been seated and while
he waited for Heather to arrive, he replied to a few messages on his cell phone,
left a few of his own, and glanced up occasionally to watch people arriving and
departing the dining room. He didn't see anyone he knew, which was just as
well. Still, he was always careful to pay attention to anyone who eyed him a
little too closely or seemed to pay an inordinate amount of attention to him.

While Brecken knew that he was
good-looking, as numerous women had told him so, he tried not to be stuck up
about it. He didn't spend a lot of time on his appearance, although he did care
to dress nicely. He made a lot of money and he liked to spend it. He could wear
anything from cut-off jeans to an Armani tux and look good in it, but he did
try not to preen.

Sometimes he laughed at himself,
paying too much attention to what others might think of him. He was who he was,
and while he hadn't gotten where he was today because of his looks, they
certainly didn't hurt.

He had dated plenty of women before Alyson,
and he planned on dating plenty of them after. He wished he could buy her out,
but when he first broached the subject after their breakup, she had thrown a
conniption fit. Still, if he offered her enough, he wondered if she would
continue to turn him down, if for no other reason than to maintain some sort of
connection to him. The thought made him frown.

From where he sat, he could see the
front entrance of the restaurant, as well as the hostess stand. To his
surprise, his heart gave a little leap of excitement when he saw Heather. He
slid his phone into his shirt pocket as he stared. She wore a simple, figure-hugging
black dress and nude pumps with two-inch heels.

Even though the dress was simply
cut, it enhanced her gorgeous figure, hugging her well-formed breasts,
accentuating her lean waist, and flaring slightly at the hips. The dress was
conservative, with cap sleeves, a V-neckline that showed just a hint of
cleavage, and fell to just above the knees. He saw the hostess give her a
critical look, and then force a smile as she gestured for Heather to follow her
toward where Brecken waited at the table by the window.

“Good evening, Heather,” he said,
standing as she slid onto the banquette. “May I tell you how lovely you look?”

“Thank you, Mister Shaw-”

“Brecken.”

“Thank you, Brecken,” she smiled as
she tucked her hair behind her ear bashfully.

After Heather was seated, the waiter
approached. Brecken glanced at her with a lifted eyebrow. "Would you care
for a glass of wine? Riesling perhaps?" He could tell she was nervous, but
she nodded.

"We'll each have a glass of Riesling,"
he told the waiter, who nodded, left them with two menus, and departed.

Brecken watched as Heather opened
the menu and quickly began to scan it. "Do you like seafood? Game? Or are
you a meat and potato girl?"

Heather glanced up at him in
surprise. "I like just about everything," she said. “Although, I absolutely
refuse to eat bugs."

He laughed. "I don't, either, so
I think we’re safe here." He paused. "Would you like me to suggest a
few items? I eat here quite frequently."

She offered a slight nod. "By
all means."

He smiled. He had eaten here so
often he practically knew the menu by heart. "For the first course, may I
suggest the Roasted Hudson Valley foie gras with ginger beignets, Matsu take
mushrooms, rum apple, and mulled cider?"

"Okay, I understood everything
but the ginger beignets,” she replied, unabashed that she didn't know what they
were.

He liked that. "Think English
fritters, or in better words, a deep-fried square of sweetened dough."

"Sounds good," she nodded.
"And for the main course?"

"Do you feel like meat or
seafood?" He was finding her delightful company. She made no bones about
the fact that she probably didn't eat in such fine restaurants, and he liked
that. It showed self-confidence, a sense of understanding of who she was.

"I'll try some seafood
tonight."

"Then may I suggest butter
poached sea bass with Maine muscles in a fine oyster purée?”

She nodded. "That sounds good,
too. I’ll have that."

After the waiter returned with their
wine and Brecken gave the waiter their order, he sat back in his chair, trying
to engage Heather in light, conversation without staring. He found it difficult
to pull his eyes away from her direct gaze. She oozed self-confidence.

Brecken also worked at projecting
confidence because in his line of business he had to. He could never appear
wishy-washy, uncertain, or hesitant about any decision he made. He had enough
deals going on right now that would stress out Socrates, and he was enjoying
Heather's company, a welcome distraction.

"So, tell me a little bit about
yourself, Heather," he commented, sipping his wine.

She offered a shrug. "Nothing
too much exciting to tell," she admitted. "Since I graduated from
college, I've just been staying busy working."

"Fiancé? Significant
others?" He knew his questions were fair game now that they were outside
of the office.

She smiled and shook her head.
"None of the above." She looked like she was about to ask something,
and then changed her mind, taking a sip of wine herself. "This is
good," she commented. "I've never had Riesling."

"I can see that you want to ask
about Alyson," he said. “Might as well get it over with. I want to
apologize again for her behavior in your office this afternoon. We broke up
just a couple of months ago, and to say she hasn't gotten past it is an
understatement."

Heather nodded in commiseration.
"I'm sorry to hear that."

"She's troubled," he explained.
"Unfortunately, she hasn't been able to let go of our relationship. I
suppose I should warn you that her outbursts are quite common. Don’t be
surprised if you find her storming into your office on occasion. And don’t
worry, she can’t fire you." Heather said nothing, which Brecken found unusual.
Alyson had a quick opinion about everything and wasn't hesitant to express it.
It seemed to him that Heather absorbed what she heard before responding
immediately to it.

"We are still co-owners of the
business, and while I have suggested buying her out, she doesn't seem too
interested in that suggestion, at least, not at this time. I will try to keep
her out of your hair."

"Don't worry about it,"
Heather said. "As long as I know she doesn't have the power to fire me, I
can handle her."

Looking at Heather, he had no doubt
that she could.

Over the next hour and a half, Brecken
and Heather enjoyed their dinner. He was pleased that Heather enjoyed the food.
She didn't seem at all self-conscious sitting across from him. He found it
rather amusing that he didn't intimidate her. Usually, he found that the fact
that he was a billionaire tended to intimidate many of the women he went out
with. A lot of them, at least as far as he was concerned, went out with him
simply to see what they could get out of the date, but Heather didn't seem to
care one iota.

He kept the focus of the
conversations on her, not wanting to answer too many questions about himself,
although she certainly wasn't asking. He asked her about where she had grown
up, the kinds of things she liked, just innocent stuff and nothing that would
be considered untoward between a boss and a new employee.

She seemed to have taken him for his
word that Alyson was merely reacting the way she was because of the newly
broken relationship. Why shouldn't she? He was telling the truth about that at
least. Toward the end of their main course, he felt his phone vibrate in his
shirt pocket as it received a text message. He didn't want to look at it,
didn't want to interrupt the nice time he was having with Heather. It was casual.
No pressure. An evening free of business worries and woes, sitting across the
table from a beautiful woman.

The second time his phone vibrated,
Heather looked up from her plate and glanced at him. "I can hear the phone
vibrating in your pocket. It's perfectly all right with me if you respond to
it."

He glanced at her, offered a slight
shrug, and nodded. "Thanks," he said. "Sometimes, it's hard to
get away from business." He reached for the phone in his pocket while she
nodded in understanding.

He pushed the icon on his screen and
accessed his text messages.

We need to talk.

Business is potentially going under.

Shit. Just what he needed. Still, he
didn't want the evening to end. He didn't respond to the message, but continued
with his light conversation until it appeared that she was finished eating. He
could tell she had wanted to eat everything on the plate, not wanting to waste
money, which made him smile.

"Would you care for any
dessert?" he asked, wiping the corners of his mouth with his white cloth
napkin.

She leaned back in her chair with a
soft laugh. "Heavens no," she said. "I'm stuffed! That was
delicious. Thank you."

And with that, their evening came to
an end. While Brecken would have very much enjoyed sitting with Heather at the
table and continuing conversation with her, he knew that doing so would
probably make her feel uncomfortable. Besides, it was time that he got back
home and dealt with some business.

Glancing around, he caught the eye
of their waiter and slightly raised his hand. The waiter nodded, disappeared
for a moment, and then returned to the table with the check. Without even
opening the fine leather folder that contained the check, Brecken pulled his
wallet from his back pocket, retrieved a credit card, and handed it to him.

"Thank you, I'll be right back,
Sir," the waiter said, and then once again disappeared.

As he waited to sign the check, he
watched as Heather finished off her wine. "Let me catch you a taxi to take
you home," he suggested. "I'm sorry, but I have to respond to the
text message I received and go back to the office."

"Thank you, that'll be just
fine," she said.

He liked her. He really did. She
wasn't too inquisitive, which was fine with him. She had been pleasant, and he
enjoyed her company. When the check arrived, he quickly signed the receipt,
slid the credit card back into his wallet, and then stood, offering a hand to
her. Together, they walked out of the restaurant. He walked her to the curb and
then glanced down the street for a cab. He saw one, held up his hand, waved,
and then stood and watched as it quickly pulled up to a car along the street,
double-parking while a horn honked behind it.

Heather quickly hurried toward the
door of the cab, which Brecken had to hurry and open for her. "I really
enjoyed the evening," he said, watching as she quickly scrambled in so as
not to hold up traffic. "I enjoyed your company. I'll see you in the
morning at work… I'll reimburse you for the cab ride!"

She nodded, smiling. Seconds later,
the cab moved forward and she was gone. His thoughts immediately focused on the
text message he had received. Once again accessing his phone, he called his
driver, who had parked nearby after Brecken had told him to go grab a bite to
eat, not sure how long his "date" with Heather would last. In a
matter of minutes, his driver pulled up and he climbed into the backseat.

"Take me home," he said.

In a matter of fifteen minutes, the
driver pulled into the circular driveway of his turn-of-the-century home. The
estate was beautiful: an old house dating back to the late eighteenth century.
A few renovations here and there, a bit of modernizing, and Brecken enjoyed
coming home to what he termed his "retreat from the madness of the
world." That he contributed to that madness didn't faze him.

The minute he closed the front door
behind him, he ventured upstairs to his office, yanking the tie from around his
neck and tossing it onto the floor next to the walnut desk. He logged onto his
computer and sent a chat message to an anonymous source. He set up a meeting
for the following morning and then quickly accessed the rest of his e-mails. He
frowned when he saw at least five from Alyson.
Good God
, he thought. Would she never leave him alone? What did he have
to do to get rid of her? It was obvious that buying out her half of the
business was not an option, and with her threats hanging over his head, he
frowned.

He just hoped, for her sake, that she
didn't go overboard with her threats. He was used to her threats, but when it
came to business, he took it a lot more seriously. Not to mention the fact that
he wouldn’t be the only one to grow concerned whether she would decide to carry
through on them.

A few moments after she settled in
the taxi, Heather pulled her cell phone out of her small purse and quickly texted
a message to Melanie. She replied less than thirty seconds later.

"Can I give you a change of
address?" Heather asked the taxi driver after they pulled away from the
curb and began to make their way into traffic moving west out of downtown.

The driver glanced in his review mirror
and nodded. "Sure. Shoot."

Heather knew that Melanie was a
night owl and had texted to see if she could stop by, tell her about her first
day at Shaw & Burks, as well as her dinner out with the boss. As she sat in
the back of the cab, watching the lights and the traffic of Boston sweep past
her window, she thought back to that dinner. It had been delicious, was definitely
expensive, and she had enjoyed it.

Still, she had trouble reading her
new boss. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised. After all, she had just
started working for him. But he seemed a bit closed off, as if he carefully
thought of every word before he spoke, like he had to guard everything he said.
Opposite his ex-fiancée, that was for sure. Was she being silly? She didn't
think so. She got the distinct impression that he had been holding himself in
check, but check from what?

She certainly hadn’t felt their
dinner could in any way be construed as a date. He’d kept the conversation
light and relatively non-personal. He had insisted that it was an apology for
the way Alyson had treated her, and she accepted it. She hadn't gotten any
mixed signals to the contrary, or at least she didn't think so. Again it came
right back to her not really knowing her boss, his mannerisms, his habits, or
his expressions.

Right now she had to accept them at
face value-

"Okay, lady, here you
are."

Heather refocused her attention and
realized that she had arrived at her friend's apartment complex. She reached
into her purse, pulled out a twenty, and gave it to him, telling him to keep
the change. Brecken would reimburse her, although she didn't really expect or need
him to. She always took taxis when she needed to go somewhere, and wrote the
expense for most of them off on her taxes.

"Thanks," the driver said,
accepting the bill. "Have a nice evening."

"You, too," Heather said
as she opened the door and stepped out of the cab, closing the door behind her.
He pulled away from the curb as she headed to the main door of the complex and
pressed the buzzer for Melanie's apartment.

"It's me," she said as
soon as her friend answered the buzzer. Without waiting for a reply, Heather
stepped to the door. It clicked a few seconds later. She pulled open the door
and stepped inside the building. Melanie lived in a nice complex. As an in-demand
model, she could afford it. She kept busy, especially during the fall and
winter seasons, when magazines, catalogs, and newspapers needed a plethora of
images for jewelry, clothes, you name it, for holiday shoppers.

She and Melanie had met at college
and had been friends ever since. While Heather didn't consider her apartment
quite as nice, it wasn't as expensive as Melanie’s, either. Every time she thought
about what it would be like to have to pay Melanie's rent, she cringed. She'd
rather have a smaller apartment in a not-so-nice neighborhood and have enough
left money left over to eat.

By the time she took the stairs up
to the second floor and was halfway down the hall, Melanie had already opened
her door and stood waiting with a smile.

"Oh my God," she
exclaimed, her voice barely above a whisper so she wouldn't disturb her
neighbors, who were most likely in bed already. "Hurry up, Heather, I want
to hear every juicy detail!"

She smiled and shook her head.
Melanie always wanted the juicy details, even when there weren't any juicy
details to tell. At any rate, she was quickly ushered to a comfortable
upholstered sofa in the middle of the living room. A tray with a teapot and two
coffee cups already sat on the coffee table, a bag of chamomile tea in each
cup, ready for the hot water. So old-fashioned. So Melanie.

"Okay, spill!" Melanie
urged as she poured steaming hot water into each cup. She took her place on the
sofa and eyed Heather up and down. "By the way, love the dress. Elegant,
yet understated. Sexy, but not too much."

"Thanks," she said,
laughing again at her friend. Over the next forty-five minutes, she told
Melanie about her first day at work, Brecken, describing him as closely as she
could, and then the incident with Brecken’s ex-fiancée.

"What a bitch," Melanie
remarked before sipping her tea. "She actually barged into your office
with that kind of an attitude?"

Heather nodded. "And then
some." She shrugged. "Brecken told me at dinner that she wasn't
dealing with the breakup of their relationship very well. I get the feeling
that he regrets going into business with her. It's like she's an anchor around
his neck now. Can you imagine? My first day on the job and she's already
accusing him of messing around with me?"

Melanie shook her head and then
insisted Heather describe everything they had for dinner, which she tried to do
the best of her ability, but then there was nothing left to tell.

"You're not holding anything
back?" Melanie asked. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive, Melanie," she
insisted. "He's cute and everything, and no doubt about it, he's filthy
rich, but I'm not about to get involved in a relationship with my boss,
especially when I just started. Besides, I think he's got all he can handle
between his business and Alyson."

"So exactly what you doing
there? Accounting?"

Heather nodded, although after what
she had seen on the spreadsheets today, she knew that she wasn't dealing with billing
accounts for the company itself, but merely for the employees and ingoing and
outgoing invoices and receipts. She explained that, and Melanie seemed
satisfied, although the question had gotten Heather thinking.

For a company that focused on
computer programming, they certainly pulled in an awful lot of money. There was
more to Shaw & Burk that just computer programming, but she didn't know
what. She supposed it didn't really matter. It was above her pay grade, and as
a new employee, she believed that eventually she would learn more about the
company, its history, the services they offered, and of course, where they
generated most of their income. For now, however, she would focus on the billing
invoices, accounts receivable, and when needed by HR, employee payrolls.
Anything above and beyond that would probably just come later.

She finished her tea and smiled at
Melanie. "I should probably be getting home. I'll need to catch some shuteye
so that I can concentrate on all those numbers tomorrow. I was trying extra
hard today to focus. Despite my experience, it was a little intimidating. The
amount of money that company pulls in is staggering! I have to be extra careful
to keep all the zeros straight."

Melanie laughed with her as she
picked up her cell phone. "I'll call a cab for you. There's usually some
cabs meandering around the block, but it is going on eleven, so I don't want
you standing around at the curb."

"Thanks, Melanie."

Melanie dialed, spoke into the
phone, gave the address, and then hung up, smiling at Heather. "Well,
girlfriend, I will admit that I'm a bit envious. Then again, you deserve a
break. It's about time you landed a job with a company that has a reputation
and
the funding of an outfit like Shaw
& Burk. You've put in your dues and now it's time for you to start reaping
the benefits."

"Thanks, Melanie," Heather
said, standing and moving toward the front door. "I'll give you a call
tomorrow, let you know how things are going."

"You better," Melanie said
as she walked her friend to the door and then bid her goodnight.

By the time Heather got downstairs
and stood just inside the main front doors, she saw the cab pulling up out front.
She left the building, gestured to the cab, and then climbed into the backseat.
She gave the taxi driver her address. In a matter of ten minutes, the cab
driver pulled up in front of her own apartment building. Unlike Melanie's
building, this one was older, constructed of antique red brick and wood molding
that looked a bit worn in places. Still, it was a nice enough and quiet enough
neighborhood to suit her and her budget.

She paid the taxi driver, climbed
out, and then punched in the security code to get inside the building. The main
door clicked open and she walked inside, digging her apartment key out of the
bottom of her small purse. The building was equipped with one of those antique
elevators that had two metal doors that you had to pull open and closed. Heather
didn't like to take it because it looked rickety and it rattled and shook. She
preferred the stairs – might as well get a little exercise.

The stairs were constructed of
heavy, highly polished oak. The middle of the steps were slightly concave, worn
down by the shoes of hundreds, if not thousands of tenants over the past few
decades. Heather stepped softly so her footsteps didn't echo too loudly as she
made her way up to the third floor and her apartment, two doors down from the
top of the landing.

By the time she got inside, she felt
bone tired. She supposed that some of her weariness was likely the aftereffect
of a first day on the job, trying to concentrate so hard on the figures, the
drama involving Alyson, and then of course concluding the evening with a nice
dinner with the boss. For the first time today, she acknowledged the sensations
that thrummed through her when she thought of Brecken.

He was so handsome, so sexy. After
all, he wasn't that much older than she, and he oozed charm. The more she
thought about it, the more her pulse began to pound, and before she realized
it, she was definitely feeling horny. She hadn’t had sex in… She started to
count back and then pushed her last encounter from her mind. It had been over
six months ago and had turned out to be more awkward than fulfilling.

She tried to push thoughts of what Brecken
might look like underneath his clothes out of her mind as she headed for the
bathroom and a quick shower before bed. That way she wouldn't have to take one
in the morning and she could lounge in bed for an extra ten or fifteen minutes.

She undressed, leaving her clothes
in a pile on the bedroom floor, and walked into her bathroom naked. She
definitely felt some sexual urges tugging at her. She turned on the shower and after
testing the water with her foot, stepped inside, allowing the water to wash
over her. She reached for her bottle of lavender body wash, squeezed some of
the thick gel into her hand, and then began to lather her body. As her hands
grazed over her breasts, stomach, and hips, she decided
the hell with it
. She needed release.

Leaning against the shower wall, the
warm water pouring over her, her body slick and smooth with the luscious aroma
of lavender, she stroked her hands over her breasts, tweaking her nipples and
imagining Brecken doing the same. It wasn't her fingers playing with her
nipples, it was Brecken’s. Strong. Firm. Confident.

She slid her hands down her abdomen,
past her carefully sculpted mound, and then cupped her pussy. She gasped. Damn,
Brecken had certainly left an impression on her. With her left hand playing
with her nipples, first one, and then the other, she began to masturbate, her
thoughts filled with vivid and imaginative thoughts of Brecken standing naked
and ready in front of her, his penis hard and erect.

Then, he dipped his head and his
mouth encompassed her nipples, sucking, gently tugging, and his tongue lathing
them into hard little nubs. She imagined his engorged cock, hard and ready to
plunge deep into her as he pleasured to her with his mouth, his tongue, and his
fingers. She imagined him widening his stance, pulling her hips closer to him,
and nestling the tip of his head against her slit. Then, slowly and steadily
delving inside, filling her, and then stroking slowly in and out, his buttocks
muscles clenching beneath her fingertips.

It didn't take long for Heather to
achieve orgasm as she stood in the shower, breathing heavily, with waves of
pleasure washing over her. She had a feeling that she would enjoy working for Brecken,
despite the unpleasant presence of his ex-fiancée. In fact, just thinking about
him made her feel happier than she had ever felt before about getting hired for
a new job.

*

To say that she had slept well the
previous evening was an understatement. After pleasuring herself, she had
climbed into bed and slept like a baby. She woke earlier than usual following
morning, even before the alarm went off. She decided to make good use of the
time. While her coffee brewed, she toasted a muffin and moved to the narrow
counter that divided her kitchen from the living space. She turned on her
computer, which she kept on the counter, and decided to do a little research on
Alyson Shaw.

By the time her computer booted up
and she had typed in some search terms, her muffin and coffee were ready. As
she began reading, her heart sank. Crap. She’d found plenty of gossip articles
about Alyson and Brecken and their whirlwind romance. As she already knew, Alyson
co-owned the company with Brecken. Talk about a thorny work environment. The
details regarding their breakup were scarce, but innuendo and the hint of a
possible affair surrounded their tumultuous relationship.