Meeting Mr. Mogul: A Billionaire Contemporary Romance (3 page)

As I entered Terry’s apartment, the place was empty. There were no signs of him. So, I grabbed the opportunity for some alone time. I went in the bathroom and started filling the tub with warm water. When there was enough water, I poured a little bit of white colored bubble bath, which was one of many of Terry’s secret stash. Then, I soaked in the tub, not really caring that the water was still hot enough to scald my skin.

I didn’t know how long I submerged in the tub. It wasn’t until I heard Terry’s loud voice calling my name that I realized I fell asleep. But before I could get up and answer him, the bathroom door suddenly opened. I screamed as a man, wearing square glasses, a fitted white linen shirt, and jeans, burst in.

“What the—Get out!” I threw the nearest bottle at him in mortification.

“Andy, there you are!” Terry exclaimed as he appeared behind the stranger, looking at me with relief. “Oh,” he breathed in alarm as soon as he grasped the situation.

I looked at him in anger and embarrassment and pointed at the door. “Get out! Both of you!” I snapped, which made Terry and the stranger walk out of the room frantically. This had to be the most humiliating encounter I have had with a man,
straight or not.

When I finished my bath, I silently slipped out of the tub, made sure to close the door behind me, and got myself dressed with the clothes I brought in. I took a steady breath before stepping outside, where I heard Terry’s voice. He was talking to someone.

“Hey,” I greeted as I stopped on the threshold leading to the living room. They were sitting in my makeshift bed, a.k.a Terry’s couch.

“Andy, I would like you to meet Andrew,” Terry said proudly. He was smiling from ear to ear as he said those words. It was the first time I saw him glow with happiness since I met him.

I walked towards the couch and offered Andrew my hand, which he shook without hesitation. “Nice meeting you, Andrew,” I said with a friendly smile. “Do you need some alone time?” I asked Terry after releasing Andrew’s hand.

“No. We are good,” he replied with a small smile and then looked away.

I didn’t reply after he said that. I understood clearly from the way Terry blushed and turned away that he felt sheepish.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you something this morning. Are you still looking for a job?” Terry asked when his expression turned back to normal. His eyebrow slightly rose in question when I didn’t reply.

“Yes, I’m still looking,” I replied after a moment, glancing at Andrew on the couch, who just looked clueless. But when he caught me looking at him, he quickly averted his gaze. From the way he looked away from me, it was clear that he was embarrassed.

“A friend of mine is looking for an assistant. It pays well,” he emphasized the last word, clearly luring me with that last statement. He knew that I needed the money, and a job that pays well is very welcome — as long as it doesn’t involve me selling my body.

I stayed silent as I cautiously thought of an appropriate reply. After a few moments, Andrew broke the tense mood when he stood up. “I think I’ll be going now. I still have some things to finish up.”

Terry jumped up from his seat and turned to Andrew. “I’ll see you out. Andy and I have to get to work in a few minutes, anyway,” he said softly to him.

Andrew nodded in reply and turned to me with a friendly smile. “It was nice meeting you, Andy,” he said as he stood up from the couch.

I stayed in the living room and sat in my makeshift bed while I waited for Terry to get back. Terry wouldn’t be returning for a couple of minutes, so I took that time to get ready for work. When I was done, and he still hadn’t turned up, I sat on the couch again and waited for him to come back. By the time he did, he abruptly stopped a foot away from the couch, looking at me with curiosity.

“You’re very friendly and accommodating today. Why is that?” he asked, still eyeing me suspiciously.

“Is it that hard to believe? I don’t always have a foul mood,” I replied with a smirk.

“True. But you looked like you wanted to say more,” he disputed with a soft chuckle as he sat beside me. “So are you ready to go?” he asked, looking at me from d to toe.

“This doesn’t look ready to you?” I asked, feeling a little insulted. Maybe my plain white shirt, jumper, and Converse aren’t an appropriate outfit for him.

“I may not be the kind of guy you expect, but I still know fashion, woman,” he stated cockily, his lips twitched in amusement.

I lightly punched his shoulder before standing up. “Let’s go before you receive more than a punch from me. I don’t want to murder anyone yet. It’s still too early in the evening for that,” I said as I grabbed my jacket and satchel, shaking my head in disbelief.

Peak hours in the restaurant started at seven in the evening. I was jumping from table to table, taking orders, and serving meals. The night started out like any other. The only difference was that I didn’t have a whole roster of douches I had to cater.

“This must be your night, Andy. No douches yet, and it’s almost nine,” Terry remarked when he passed by me as I got a tray of orders from the counter.

I rolled my eyes at his words and stuck my tongue out like a kid, which only compelled him to tease me more by mentioning what I said last night.

“So, you have a thing for tall and muscular blonds?” he asked as he stood next to me as I punched in an order.

“Really? That’s what you’re using against me?” I asked him in disbelief when I finished.

“Yes. Why ever not?” he asked, talking in a British accent.

I raised an eyebrow and smirked. “If you were straight and talked like that to a girl, she would swoon,” I remarked with a menacing grin, voicing my counter attack. I would not let him get away with teasing me about that.

“You know we can talk about men, right? After all, I am —” he explained, trying to reason with me.

“Don’t even start, Terry,” I interjected, shooting him a deadly stare, as though I was daring him to contradict. I know that he doesn’t like talking about his relationship (even men in general) and only opened up the topic to tease me. Besides, he knows that I had almost zero contact with men since my father and I came to the city for his treatment. And I had a good reason for my lack of dating prospects.

“I wasn’t saying that you should sleep with the guy, Andy. I was only implying that he was your type,” Terry stated, sighing in defeat.

I looked at him, feeling slightly guilty for getting worked up. “I know what you mean. And yes… maybe, once upon a time, he was my type,” I admitted reluctantly.

Terry was about to tell me something else when the manager interrupted by telling us to stop chitchatting and get back to work. Well, there goes the immunity I thought I had due to yesterday’s incident.

That night, I decided that I would tell the manager I had to change my shift to accommodate my new job. However, it dawned on me that I had no idea what the job was about. So, I had to wait for Terry to finish his shift since he was the only one who knew about it.

I immediately asked Terry about the job when I saw him outside our locker room. I had to be quick, too, because he might forget the subject if I delayed mentioning it.

“You’ll be working at my friend’s club. And if you are wondering, yes, it is the club I always go to at night,” he replied with an evil grin.

“Are you really that desperate to get me to a club that you had to kill the previous worker to get me this one?” I asked after I regained my wits from that revelation.

“Yes. I am,” he replied with a booming laugh. “Actually, the previous worker got this new, hotshot job in another state and disappeared when he got hired. He was a prick, so I told Jack about you. I also told him you play nice as long as no one messes with you,” he added after he slightly calmed down.

“Good. Bartending it is,” I said in defeat. I looked up at the heavens for a second and shook my head in disbelief. I can’t believe I’m doing this out of desperation. And I am desperate for a job.

The ride to the club wasn’t long, maybe ten… fifteen minutes tops. When we arrived there, I got off Terry’s motorbike as he was turning the engine off. And after I carefully took off the helmet, I found myself studying the exterior of the club. There was a huge neon light sign above the door that read ‘Black Jack’. The walls outside the club were made of brick and painted black. All in all, the place was very gothic chic, but it smelled like trouble.

“Are you sure this is it?” I asked nervously, which was hopefully drowned out by the noisy people lining outside the club.

“Yes. Come on,” he replied as he took my helmet and gave me an enthusiastic smile.

When we reached the front door, the guard simply let us through without asking who we were. I looked at Terry with my eyebrow raised, alarmed at how easily we got in. With his hand holding my wrist tightly, Terry dragged me towards the bar. I was too mesmerized by the dim lit room and the sea of people in the middle of the dance floor before I noticed the bartender.

“Jack, this is Andy. Andy, Jack,” Terry shouted close to my ear, which made me abruptly turn towards the man behind the bar counter.

In the dim light, I could only make out a small portion of his features. He looked like a guy in his forties, with dark hair, grey highlights, and a scruffy beard. But it was his deep, dark eyes that drew me to look at him longer than usual. His stare was stern yet weary, a stare I was quite familiar with. It was the kind that had seen a lot of things in this world that normal people had not. It was the same as my father. At that very moment, I gave him my respect.

“Marines or navy?” I asked after Terry introduced us. There was an awkward pause after I said that.

Jack looked at me seriously for a second, and then smiled. “I served for five years in the army, but I was recruited in the marines. I served for seven years until I retired to run this club,” he shouted in reply, his voice deep with a thick southern American accent.

“You’re from the south?” I asked, reeling back in shock. I can’t believe I’m starting to like this guy the longer we talked.

“Yes, ma’am. Born and raised on a small farm in Texas,” he replied with a slight twinkle in his eyes, though his facial expression remained serious and unnerving.

“My father was from Texas too. He served in the marines for fifteen years,” I said with a small smile.

Jack smirked in response then turned to look at Terry, whom we had almost forgotten during our conversation. “I think I like this one,” he stated.

“I told you,” Terry countered in glee as he glanced at me proudly.

“So, when do I start?” I turned to Jack and asked.

“Since you are here, how about giving me a hand with some of these?” he replied as he tilted his head in the direction of a crowd of people on the other side of the counter.

I glanced at Terry for a second, eyeing him for permission, which he replied with a nod. “Sure,” I replied to Jack as I looked back at him. “How do I get there?” I added as I pointed at the inside of the bar counter

“Climb over,” Jack replied, after which he excused himself when a customer called him relentlessly. He was gone before I could react.

“Was he serious?” I asked Terry, looking at him dubiously.

“Jack is always serious. I rarely even see that guy crack a joke,” Terry replied as he looked at Jack’s retreating figure.

I hesitated for a moment. But as I kept thinking about that piece of information, it made this job seem more daunting. However, I desperately needed a job. Without further ado, I stepped on a stool then put my knee on the counter and eventually climbed over to the other side. I was glad that I wore comfortable clothes. As soon as I was behind the bar, Jack immediately handed me an apron to wear, a sign that I had to start work.

About half an hour into the job, I was getting the hang of it. Terry stayed in the bar until Andrew showed up with a bunch of people. I was in the zone, getting beer bottles and hosing glasses as the people came and went. But it was slightly hard to manage people’s orders when they are all shouting at the same time.

“Excuse me! Can I get a whiskey please?” a man, with a slight British accent, called to me when I passed by him to hand out another customer’s order.

“Wait for your turn. You just got here,” I replied without looking at him as I gave a few bottles of beer to the customer I was currently serving. I said those words out of courtesy to the other customers. It was unfair to serve a newcomer — even if that newcomer has the power to ruin your life.

“Excuse me. Are you just going to ignore me?” the man asked in disbelief when I went past him a second time, ignoring him to serve another customer on the other end of the bar.

His words finally caught my attention, making me look at him directly. I eyed him for a second in irritation. I couldn’t make out his features because the room was poorly lit, but my voice was clear when I said, “Sir, with all due respect, there are people who waited in line to get their drinks before you, so please be patient and wait for your turn. This is not too much to ask.” My eyebrow scrunched together impatiently at his outburst.

A few of the people nearby heard my reprimand and turned to look at us in awe. A girl on his right clapped her hands and cheered me on while the other guys just smirked and told the guy to wait. This silenced him for a second before he walked away disappointedly. As I stared at the man’s back, I had this strange notion that there was something familiar about this man, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.