Mad for the Billionaire (3 page)

He was rich and I was poor. Our paths were destined to run side by side like the train tracks dividing my side of town from his. In sight but never touching.

The fateful, irrevocable moment of when everything changed forever came when Alexander noticed I didn’t have any craft sticks for the log cabin project we were all going to be working on.

Staring down at my too-tight pants, I blinked back my tears, dreading the exasperation and pity I’d soon see in my teacher’s gaze. This wasn’t the first time I didn’t have my supplies and I knew it wouldn’t be my last.

I noticed Alexander staring at me. I was too ashamed to look away from my lap. Without saying a word, he opened up his brand-new package and handed me half.

Grateful and awestruck, I accepted his generosity in the same manner it was given—silently. Alexander had saved me from the humiliation of having to either take a zero, accept more handouts from the teacher, and/or admit my mother hadn’t wanted to waste “good money on a bunch of stupid shit that was going to get thrown away anyways.”

I shoved the sticks in my desk before anyone could see it.

Perhaps that action set the tone for my feelings forever after. They were something to be hidden, denied, and suffered through mutely. All I knew was on that day at 12:43pm, little Sophia Marie Carter had fallen hopelessly, forever and always, in love with Alexander Monroe Draven II.

For years afterwards, my gaze searched for his tall slim form in the halls, cafeteria, and school grounds. Just seeing him was enough in my younger years, but then high school came and with it a slew of hormones.

I needed to be closer.

So I worked like a demon during freshman and sophomore years to get into the same Honors classes as Alexander. My weekend was made if I happened to run into him and his mother at the town’s only grocery store. Once old enough, I got a cashier job there just so I could ring up his family’s groceries. My hands were always careful and quick when handling the food he would eat and the toiletries he would share. Being that Alexander accompanied his mother everywhere, I saw him there at least once a week.

My memories scattered.

Eventually I got him. The girl literally from the wrong side of the tracks got to shine in the light of the town’s brightest star. I got to see myself in his eyes. Then I lost him. Twice.

All my juvenile fantasies of marrying Alexander, having his children, and spending the rest of my life by his side collapsed. It had taken years of therapy for me to find peace without having Alexander Monroe Draven II in my life.

Close the laptop. Don’t slide back into that insanity. You are in enough control to stop this. Come on! Do it!

I shrugged off the macabre warning, acknowledging it was already too late for me to pretend to be anything other than twisted. Stubbornly reading each new article, I was already familiar with Alexander’s meteoric rise from computer wunderkind of not one, but
two
Internet startups which had sold respectively for 334 million and 527 million.

Most people would’ve been content with living the rest of their charmed lives on a private island. Overachieving and obsessive as always, Alexander didn’t know the meaning of resting on one’s laurels.

Instead he turned his attention to salvaging historically sound companies that had fallen on hard times. Shrewd and particular with those few firms he acquired, Alexander had taken his newly-formed Draven Systems International into the stratosphere. All the top financial magazines speculated his net worth to be well north of a billion dollars by the time he was thirty-two.

I wasn’t surprised. I always knew he was special and not just to me.

Now a year later I was about to finally cross paths with him.

My calf started to ache. I stopped bouncing it and took a deep breath. The glass doors opened. The present CFO and CIO ushered in Alexander and his entourage. I, along with everyone else, sprang to my feet. I locked my jaw tight before relaxing it. Closing my eyes briefly, I summoned a serene expression.

Nobody has to know. Nobody will know. You’re just a face in the crowd. He probably doesn’t even know you’re here.

I opened my eyes and nearly screwed them shut again. Alexander’s black gaze burned into mine before sliding away.

Holy baby Jesus he saw me! My heartbeat went into overdrive. My noodle limbs threatened to give out. Fingertips lost all feeling. I fixed my attention on the CFO, unable to let my gaze rest on Alexander for fear of anyone else realizing how shaken I was. My cheeks felt warm. Just the idea of blushing over him made my face burst into flames.

Damnit! Swallowing a dismayed groan, I concentrated on taking deep, unobtrusive breaths and hoped no one noticed my humiliating reactions.

Alexander reached the end of the table and faced us all. “Please, have a seat. Since it’s Friday I’ll make sure to keep this as short as possible, okay?” Laughter peppered the room.

Relieved he hadn’t pointed a finger at me and yelled, “Fire that cold-hearted, crazy bitch now!” I sank down into my chair.

“Are you okay? You look flushed.”

I returned the whisper from Connie, my Assistant Controller, with a friendly “Oh, it’s just my stomach. I’ll be fine.” To keep up the ruse, I uncapped my water and took a quick sip.

I grimaced before hurriedly relaxing my pinched expression. Did I really think Alexander would take the time to fire me publicly or even acknowledge my existence? Crazy. He probably never thought of me anymore. For all I knew he didn’t even realize it was me. Besides, I probably wouldn’t see him privately since the CFO would most likely handle all direct communication between Alexander and my department.

You’re getting into a tizzy for nothing, girl! Buck up and be the grown-up you usually are.

Now that the worst was over, I managed to string together bits of finer logic. I could do this. MLM needed my focus and attention. Contrary to my recent behavior, I was not a lovesick teenager or tetchy grad student or borderline-obsessed basket case any longer. I was a fully grown woman with towering responsibilities that did not include mooning, fretting, obsessing, and preening over Alexander.

Fuck him and the luxury SUV he rode in on.

I picked up a pen and swiveled my chair to face the most important people in the room, ears alert and brain ready to process. The hour passed quickly as Alexander outlined expectations for the next quarter by using data from the reports I’d run. Idly I wondered if he knew and had been impressed by my spreadsheet prowess. I immediately stomped the rogue thought into the ground.

Stop being such a lovesick dork.

“Any questions?”

Imagination made it seem that he had specifically looked at me. I maintained my relaxed position, even making time to jot down a note. Pride lightened the heavy stone in my gut. I had held it together. Disintegration faded from threat.

Various questions came. Alexander answered them with thoughtful care. The trait wormed through me. It was one of the things I loved so much about Alexander—he took heed with his words, owning the responsibility for their meaning. He never flung them in spite.

Yes, I loved it and hated it for the same reason.

Alexander meant exactly what he said when he said it.

“
Sometimes I just wish you never fell in love with me, Sophia. It’s too much pressure because nothing I do ever seems to make you happy.”

I cleared my throat, caught up in something dark, dank, and grasping. The wound from those long-ago words still festered, especially because I left him the next day.

“All right. I think we’re done here. Thank you for your attention today and I look forward to working with you all in the upcoming weeks. Enjoy your extended weekend and see you all bright and early on Tuesday.”

I clapped along with my colleagues. I pretended Alexander hadn’t glanced my way when he walked out, obviously brilliant retinue trailing faithfully behind him. I wondered if it irritated him to have so many people keeping at his heels. The Alexander I knew was an introvert and someone who hated crowds. Then again, the Alexander I knew wasn’t the type to hang out on a pop star’s yacht either and pose for pictures.

Things change and usually so do people. Those who stay the same usually go crazy for a reason. And yes, that obviously means me. The word of the day is change.

I found my feet and managed to make conversation for a few minutes before excusing myself. I took the long way to my office, hoping to avoid seeing anyone I knew. I may have survived being in the conference room with Alexander but I desperately needed to decompress.

“Hey you. It’s been a while.”

I whipped around. My heart stupidly leapt at the thought of Alexander waiting for me. Tragically it believed he must still care and if he still cared then there was hope.

Easily ripped, flimsy, delicate, stupid hope.

“Hey.” Internally I winced at the lameness of my reply. Hay was for horses and dumbasses. Or women named Sophia. “How are you?”

“Good.” Alexander came forward, hands in pockets and tiny smile firmly in place. “You’re looking well.”

“You too.”

“Thank you.”

I stood my ground. Desire itched. I suffered the familiar pulses demanding I close the distance between us.

No way was I going to listen to that side of me.

Aware of his piercing ebony gaze, I chose my next words carefully, making sure I communicated the appropriate tone for our respective positions. It was a tricky thing but I managed. “It was a great meeting.”

“Really? Which part?”

My belly fluttered. I had the sense he was mocking my attempt to pretend we weren’t anything more than two people engaging in corporate pleasantries. “I couldn’t choose one at the moment. Suffice it to say I’m excited to work on implementing the changes in reporting and upgrading our report manager.”

I was proud of myself for saying all the right, impersonal things. Maybe I’d survive this with my dignity and walls in tact.

“Have lunch with me.”

“Pardon?”

Alexander glanced at his watch. “I’m starving. Let’s grab something quick and greasy.”

Excitement pooled. He had waited for me and now he was talking to me, acknowledging me as someone he wanted to spend his time with. I remembered precious moments like this all the way back to high school.

“
Sophia, help me carry these supplies up to Ms. Rider’s room.”

…

“
Hey, Sophia, sit down with me and watch the game.”

…

“
I’m hungry. Let’s go by Home Econ and get some pie, Sophia.”

Alexander would toss out his wishes and I would lunge, balance, and stretch to make every one of them possible. Even now my mind had already gone down a list of places he might like, dismissing several in favor for those that served pie.

My ridiculously tender lip suffered a quick bite, betraying my nervousness and shattering my impersonal facade. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“You’re you and I’m me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Although his expression remained bland, Alexander’s gaze snapped with impatience.

What the hell do you think it means?
bounced on my tongue, wanting to spring out. Courage deserted me. I fell back on a safer excuse. “I’m sure Mark wouldn’t approve.”

Alexander leaned over me, gaze kept trained on the wall far above my head, and murmured in my ear, “I wouldn’t be so worried about what Mark thinks. I own this place now or haven’t you heard?”

He was still high-handed, bossy, and arrogant as ever.

“Sophia, there you are!” Connie called out before she fully rounded the corner. Reaching us, she smiled apologetically to Alexander before turning to face me. “I’m
so
sorry to interrupt but Mark asked me to tell you to come by his office ASAP.”

“Sure thing.” I wondered what Connie thought of seeing Alexander standing closer than conservative etiquette deemed appropriate. If she thought anything odd, Connie kept it hidden beneath her pleasant expression. She touched my shoulder briefly, nodded respectfully to Alexander, and then strode down the hall, creamy pink heels contrasting beautifully against her gray pant suit.

I appreciated Connie’s interruption in a way someone surely appreciated having her punishment dismissed. If I felt
at all
irritated it was simply a case of nerves catching up to me. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Sure. Keeping telling yourself that.

“Lunch. Twenty minutes. Don’t keep me waiting.” Alexander strolled off, hands still in pockets, and proud head held high.

My mouth dropped open. “I can’t make it—”

“Downstairs. Twenty minutes.”

“I’m not going.”

“You will.”

“No—”

“Yes. Nineteen and a half minutes.”

I turned on my heel, inwardly fuming at Alexander’s colossal arrogance. I wasn’t going and that was final. It didn’t matter how much nostalgia poked, whined, and screamed. I wasn’t going to travel back down that moonless, rutted road. I wasn’t that same girl anymore.

I wasn’t. I really, really wasn’t. And if I still was, well, too bad. I may be crazy but I wasn’t
that
crazy. I’d living the past eight to nine years proving that very well.

Alexander and I weren’t a good mix. Period.

Mind made up, I soon slipped into Mark’s office. He waved me towards a seat. I sat and waited; content to stare out the window while he finished up his call. Mark wrapped it up quickly, issuing several friendly “Gotcha!” and “No problem!” before disconnecting.

Just as I was going to ask him what he needed, Mark cocked a thick blond brow and barked, “What’s going on with Draven?”

My own slim eyebrow raised in question.

“That was him on the phone. He told me he had an appointment with you in fifteen. So again, what’s going on with Draven?”

“Is that why you had Connie tell me to come here?”

“No.”

My temper flared beneath his presumptuous prodding. “What are you really asking Mark?”

“Why’s he meeting you for lunch? You’re just the Controller.”

Just the Controller my ass! Who the hell juggled money around when there wasn’t any to juggle? Who the fuck managed to get a line of credit so we could cover payroll? Who the hell was in the trenches when our staff was cut by three-quarters?