BREATHE: A Billionaire Romance, Part 2 (7 page)

“Will you go to my doctor’s appointment with me?” he asked, in a child-like manner, as we were finishing up work for the evening in his living room.

He was seated at the couch, and as soon as the papers were filed away—by me, of course—he began lounging lazily. I had watched him from the corner of my eye as I began cleaning up our work-mess.

But as soon as the question left his lips, my eyes darted over to him so that I was fully looking at him rather than looking only with the corner of my eye. I sighed. The question was a sad one, really. He had no one else to take him? He had no one else to go with him? It was then that I realized just how sad Derek Sholts life was…

He had no one.

Just me.

His PR rep turned assistant…

I was all he had.

And for some reason, being all that someone had, was a little nice. I mean, sure, I felt the pressure, but there was something nice about being needed.

“Sure,” I said, faintly, before flashing him a sideways smile.

“But first,” he replied, raising up from the couch. “We go out.”

My eyes rolled. It was nice to see that not even cancer could make a party-boy billionaire stay in for the evening. I mean, why would the rich need rest, I suppose…

I groaned but agreed. I felt too invested to possibly let him go by himself. And I was glad that I had agreed, because where we ended up that night looked rough.

As we pulled up, I noticed that Fredrick stayed in his car. And I couldn’t blame him. The place was called “The Hole”—and it really was a hole.

A shit hole.

The bar was dirty looking from the outside, and it was so small and out of the way that I was sure most didn’t know it even existed…

It looked like a typical redneck bar from where I was from, and it was crazy to imagine that Derek would have ever been somewhere like it before.

“Uh, who told you about this place?” I asked, a little worried as I gazed out the back window.

“I just sort of found it months ago. I love it here.” And then my worst fears were realized. No one recommended it. Derek found it. But why would a man of his stature ever go to a place like this? It didn’t make sense.

“Come on!” he reassured, pulling the door open, just before gently escorting me out. He grabbed my hand and together we walked in and what I saw on the inside was no more beautiful than the outside.

There were maybe eight or nine guys in the entire bar. It was small, but there was plenty of room for more than double that.

One single bartender comprised the bar, and around it a majority of the men sat. The pool table, tucked away in the corner, was unoccupied, and that was something I rarely ever saw in a bar back home. There were quarter lines on the side for people awaiting their turn. Indeed, it was strange.

But something even more strange happened that evening…

“Eric!” Six of the guys sitting around the bar yelled out in unison just before I felt him tense beside me. I almost laughed. Finally a place where they didn’t remember his name, a place where he wasn’t important enough.

I wasn’t sure how he felt about it. But personally, I loved it. In fact, it almost made me like the place. Almost.

He smiled and waved to the guys before joining them.

“Hey guys… this is my girlfriend, Zoe,” he said in the friendliest tone I had ever heard him use and immediately I felt the wind knocked out of me.

Girlfriend?

“Hi, Zoe!” the men said in unison once again, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they all shared a brain.

“Can we get a couple of beers, Jack!?” Derek called out to the lone bartender, and he smiled in response and immediately handed him a couple.

“I’ll start you a tab, Eric.”

“Thanks,” Derek replied, just before leaning in to whisper to me.

I couldn’t believe it.

It was the first bar that I had ever been to where someone could whisper and be heard. There was music playing, sure, but it was low—incredibly low for a bar atmosphere. And I had no problem hearing him over it.

“My name is Eric here,” he whispered in a cool, soft fashion, and I could tell by his tone that he didn’t want me to leak it. It was a secret. His name was Eric. Not Derek. And he didn’t want me to say otherwise.

And then I realized that they didn’t have his name wrong. Derek had lied about his name. Purposely.

My only question was why.

He handed me my beer—my lukewarm beer at that—and led me towards some of the tables nearby.

“Why is your name Eric here?” I asked as soon as we had a seat—in a hushed tone so that others couldn’t overhear.

“No one in this little hole in the wall recognized me when I first came in,” he said, amusedly. “And when I discovered the same regular ol’ people came in here—with the rarity of stragglers, I decided to make up a new name.”

He smiled, proud of himself, and leaned back in his chair.

“Derek Sholts has a problem with people recognizing him?” I asked, shocked. “Since when?”

Derek was more than full of himself. You would think that he would love the attention.

“Sometimes it gets old. Sometimes I just want a beer. Sometimes I want to be left alone… and sometimes I need to shoot the shit with a bartender and bar-goers without the worry of my words being sold to the highest media bidder.”

I sighed, betting it was hard to always be in the spotlight.

I had to wonder though, how was possible for people not to have recognized him? Did they not have internet? Did they not read magazines?

Were they living under a rock?

I scoffed, looking around the dingy old bar…not that this place was much different than living under a rock.

“So it’s a place where you can be yourself?” I smirked.

“Exactly.”

“Well,
Eric
… who are you, exactly?”

“I guess you’ll find out.” He smiled at me, and I back at him… and I wondered if Derek might finally show me who he really is…

And the truth of it was, he did.

At least, I hoped it was who he was.

We played tipsy Jenga with the bar’s large foot-long pieces, and then we played pool. We were the only two who actually played the entire night, in fact.

It was funny how good he was at Jenga and pool, really. And it took me a moment to remember that Derek Sholts hadn’t always been rich, and he hadn’t always been extraordinary.

Derek Sholts used to be ordinary.

Well, to everyone else he was ordinary. Derek Sholts was born extraordinarily brilliant; that much was true… but there was a time that Derek Sholts did ordinary things, with ordinary people.

And I was glad to get a glimpse of the past that night in the bar.

It made me truly believe, without a shadow of a doubt, that I might have been wrong about him all along. Something of his past-self might be left. Derek Sholts might actually—somewhere deep inside—still be that little inventive boy whom he used to be.

He leaned against me, as I held the pool stick in my hand, trying to teach me how to properly shoot. And I could do nothing but smirk. He might have thought I didn’t know what I was doing.

But I did know what I was doing.

And when push came to shove and we decided to play one on one, I smoked him.

I didn’t know what I enjoyed more, beating him, or the fact that he didn’t see it coming.

All I knew was that I enjoyed it. Probably a bit too much as I smiled, smugly, relishing in the moment. “Remember, I’m not your typical, every day girl. I know a thing or two.” I laughed, twirling the pool stick in my hand before doing a small dance with it.

I could hear the guys at the bar snickering, and that almost made it even better. They had seen him lose, and even if they didn’t know it was Derek Sholts, it was still enough for me that other people had at least seen it.

He smiled back at me and replied, “No. You’re definitely not typical.”

After an exhausting night of drinking, I slept at his place—in his guest room—so that I could be ready to go first thing in the morning to accompany him to his doctor’s appointment.

One thing I didn’t know before agreeing to go was that his appointment was with a doctor located an hour away. Why he wanted to go to that specific doctor, I didn’t know, but he did. He said that the man was his doctor, and he didn’t trust anyone else.

I thought it was cute. But it didn’t mean it wasn’t inconvenient.

More so for Fredrick though, I was sure, who drove us the entire way.

For us, the drive went fairly quickly. Or at least for me it did. Derek and I conversed about the night before, our interests, and goals for the future—almost like we were two people rather than just boss and employee—and it seemed to pass the time in a  wonderful manner.

What didn’t pass the time quickly though… was waiting in the doctor’s office.

We were brought back to a room right away, which was nice. But it almost seemed like a false alarm when it took the doctor over an hour to join us. I sat in the guest seat, while Derek sat on the bed, and we hardly spoke. We only looked at one another for an uncomfortably long amount of time.

I didn’t want to get wrapped up in conversation only to be interrupted when the doctor showed, and something told me he thought the same…

I was glad we didn’t because just as I was about to begin small talk a slight knock at the door sounded, and the door opened. And my God, when the man in the white coat entered the room, my mouth fell open in shock.

He was tall—around six and a half feet—and gorgeous. He had beautiful chestnut hair and facial scruff to match. He looked rugged, masculine, and delicious as all get out.

“Hey, guys!” the doctor said as he closed the door behind him. His smile was intoxicating—so intoxicating that I nearly fell off my seat.

“Zoe,” Derek said as the incredibly good-looking doctor entered the room completely and made his way towards us. “This is my stepbrother.”

My brows contorted into pure confusion, as I looked at the man. “Your doctor is your stepbrother?” I asked, still confused.

He smiled at me extending his hand to shake my own. “I’m Dr. Freeman; and my patient here happens to be my stepbrother, yes.”

“But isn’t that a conflict of interest?” I asked, taking his hand and looking from Derek to Dr. Freeman and back again.

“He was my doctor before he was my stepbrother, so it just remained that way when his mom married my dad,” Derek spoke, his voice soft and weak.

“But legally or ethically speaking?” I asked, my attention shooting from one man to the other.

“Legally, we aren’t related, so there’s not a lot that can be done. In the eyes of the law, as well as ethics, we are no different if you became friends with your doctor,” Derek said in a manner that seemed a little more rehearsed than I was comfortable with.

I looked at him and dread immediately filled my body. He looked so pale, so weak. And it was then that I wondered if I really should have come along. He looked terrible…

And I wasn’t expecting to see someone so brave, so strong, so intelligent become someone so weak and frail…. he was so frazzled, in fact, that he could barely formulate sentences. And I wasn’t sure he even would have had the strength to say what he just had if he hadn’t rehearsed it beforehand.

“I’m still not sure it’s a good idea,” I said and sighed, my nose clearly in their business. I wasn’t sure what gave me the authority to say something like that, or think that I should have, but something in me told me that it was ok.

“Live a little!” Derek laughed, his IV jutting out, making me nearly pass out. I couldn’t handle the sight of human blood. Pig blood, cow blood, horse blood even—those were fine, but not human blood.

I turned away. “Little being the keyword in my case.” I heard him say, and immediately no matter how queasy I felt, I looked up at him. My eyes glistened with sadness, I knew they did. I hated hearing that sort of attitude. I hated hearing about his fate, and I wasn’t sure if it was because I wanted him to fight, or if because I hadn’t really faced the truth… Derek Sholts was probably
going to die.

Dr. Freeman squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t worry, we aren’t that lucky,” he said, smiling down at me.

I knew that he was trying to make me feel better, and I appreciated it. I faintly smiled up at him in response, silently thanking him.

But after that, Dr. Freeman’s demeanor changed a bit.

The longer that I was in the room, the more that I felt there was something about him that I didn’t like. I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he was making light of every situation, or if it was the fact that there was something else that I felt was wrong with him.

I was fine with jokes, and I was fine with his light-hearted spirit. I felt that Derek needed that…but there was something about the way that he joked that seemed almost morbid, especially for a doctor—and especially for someone who was supposed to love him.

But I shook it off, realizing that other families had different dynamics, and morbid jokes were part of some family dynamics.

“Alright,” Dr. Freeman said after a while. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave now, Zoe.”

He smiled at me as a way of ensuring that nothing was wrong, and I knew why I was being asked to leave.

They were about to begin another level of treatment.