How Not to Be Seduced by Billionaires

By: Marian Tee

I blushed at the unconcealed admiration in his eyes, flattered and uncomfortable at the same time. My parents sent me to an all-girls high school and persuaded me to enroll in a ladies’ college as well. It was the same setup in our company, with me being surrounded by lady pharmacists and researchers from R&D. So trust me when I say all I knew of guys was what I got to watch from The Bachelor and Vampire Diaries, which – if you thought about it – didn’t exactly make great reference material. I could end up with a vampire willing to trade me in for a million dollars if I wasn’t careful.

“Thanks,” I said with a little nod and quickly sidestepped him, dragging a smirking Alyx behind me.

“He wanted to ask your number, you know,” Alyx said after giving our orders to the waiter. She had ordered salad and coffee. I had asked for the same – together with a small plate of fettuccine. Diet had never been a valid word in my dictionary. As far as I was concerned, it was a word made up by evil anti-pleasure monsters.

“Hmm.” I made the noncommittal sound, busy snipping price tags so I could have an easier time calculating my expenses later at home. Both my grandfather and Alyx’s were ex-military with Quaker backgrounds, and they figured very strongly in our childhoods. Add those two elements together and you got girls more comfortable shopping off the rack even though our credit card limits could afford a lot more than that.

While waiting for the appetizers, I told Alyx about the two other job offers I received from companies that were just as well-known as Kastein Inc. “One of them even offered me a thousand dollars on the spot as a signing bonus.”

Alyx choked. “And you didn’t take it?”

I chewed on my lip. “I really want the job at Kastein. It’s my dream job---”

She smirked. “Plus your dream boss, too, with his dream dick---”

I choked on my coffee. “That has nothing to do with it.”

But Alyx just crowed, “So you do think his dick is a---”

“No, I do not.” Alyx still didn’t know what happened or almost happened to us and how I totally had my walk of shame after my one-on-one with Netherland’s #1 playboy.

Last night, I stayed up late just so I could Google everything there was to know about Constantijin. Wikipedia told me he was an Eton and Cambridge graduate and an only child. His father had long retired, but his mother was Chairman of the Board while he had taken on the mantle of CEO a few years back, personally spearheading the company’s entry in the American market.

At thirty-two years old, what he accomplished for Kastein Inc. was mind-boggling. But what really filled me with shock and not a little self-disgust was how the names of his former lovers, hook-ups, and floozies could easily fill up a phone directory.

“Just be warned, Yanna,” Alyx murmured. “Office romances never end right.”

I let out an unladylike snort at that, unable to help it. Romance was definitely not something in Constantijin Kastein’s vocabulary. Mind-blowingly hot sex, yes, but a grand sweeping romance?

He might have given me my first (mini) orgasm, and he might keep me awake with consecutive wet dreams, but he was not the Mr. Right I have been waiting for.

Lesson #3

Focus on looking for Mr. Right –

And not Mr. Fuck.

If your billionaire finds out, he won’t let you go until he has you.

I am not going to look for Constantijin Kastein.

It was a mantra I repeated in my mind continuously when I made my way to the 34/F reception area of the executive offices of Kastein Inc. The girl behind the front desk, Megan, smiled at me warmly. She looked young and bubbly, but she, too, was dressed in black, and it was proof that I had made the right decision to shop for an all-black corporate wardrobe. In this office, any other color could probably get me tagged as Al-Qaeda or something equally horrible and to be avoided at all costs.

“Ms. Everleigh?”

“That’s me. Is Ms. Charli in already?”

“Yes. She’ll appreciate that you’re early. Let me take you to her now.” Megan escorted me to the very same conference room that I had the highest-lowest point in my life. I was already blushing the moment I entered the room, the same sense of shame attacking me when I recalled the older woman’s look of shock upon seeing me in her boss’s arms.

God. The memory made me feel like a slut.

Constantijin was nowhere in sight – not that I was looking or anything. Only one woman was inside the room, and boy, did she look scary! She made Vogue’s Anna Wintour look positively warm.

She stood up the moment I entered, looking svelte in her black buttoned up polo, which was worn over a black-and-white striped turtleneck and paired with a leather-belted mini and black stockings.

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