Billionaire Boys' Club

By: Simone Holloway

Billionaire Boss

“I’ve been watching you,” he said.


The razor moved smoothly over his face and along his cheek bone, removing the short dark stubble of hair. He ran his hand over the smooth skin, then through his black hair.


He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She dropped her gaze to the floor. His piercing blue eyes unnerved her.


“That surprises you,” he stated it as a fact. “It shouldn’t, not much escapes my attention certainly not a woman like you Bree.”


Bree flushed; she hadn’t been sure her boss knew her name. His eyes returned to the mirror and he continued shaving.


Mr. Evans stood in the executive washroom that was attached to his office. He was wearing  a white tailored buttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black pants and a towel around his neck to keep the soap and water off his clothes. His jacket rested on a chair beside her; it looked like it cost more than she made in a month.


Bree sat outside the door staring at her worn pumps. She crossed her legs self-consciously and folded them underneath the chair suddenly ashamed of her meager clothing. She wore a dark knee length skirt that was starting to fade, an eggplant colored top and a dark blazer.


Mr. Evans shut the water off and removed the towel from around his neck. He wiped the remaining soap and water from his face and tossed the towel on the counter.


Bree watched the discarded towel fall and imagined him undressing: discarded clothes cascading to the floor around his feet like a curtain unveiling a marble statue.


The smell of mint aftershave wafted through the door, snapping her out of her fantasy.


“Mr. Evans- I- I’m not sure what you want.”


The bathroom light turned off and Mr. Evans walked into the office. Carefully, he unrolled his shirt sleeves and buttoned them at the wrist. Then he took his jacket off the chair and spun it around him like a matador. He shrugged his shoulders and pulled at his coat straightening it.


“I want you Bree.” He said this as casually as ordering a coffee. “I want you three nights a week- either here in my office or at home. I may also need you to escort me to parties. You will be compensated of course.”


Bree nervously ran her hands over her hair. “I-” she cleared her throat and began again more forcefully, “I wouldn’t need to be compensated.”


“I insist. Let me take care of you.”


He smiled at her and crossed the office to his desk. He put his hand out gesturing for her to join him while they talked business. Absently, she wished the situation wasn’t so formal and professional.


“How does forty thousand a week sound? Plus expenses, of course. I will provide transportation, clothing, whatever else you require.”


Her mind began to race through all of her bills: her student loans, car loans, mortgage, credit cards. After a months work she could pay them all off and be free of debt collectors. The best part: she wanted Mr. Evans.


The first time she saw him, a spark was ignited inside her. It was a sensation she had never felt before or believed in.


She had never had the attention of a man like Mr. Evans and she was not going to let it go to waste. True, he did present the offer in a very business-like fashion but maybe it would grow to something more; a mutual respect and need.


He had selected Bree: of all the women, he wanted her. These thoughts raced through Bree’s mind as she hastily nodded and said, “I accept.”


“Fantastic,” he smiled and opened a desk drawer. Rummaging inside for a moment he settled on a business card. On the back, he scribbled a time and date.


“I will have my driver pick you up. Show him this card. In the mean time, I will have some clothing sent over for you to try on. Pick whichever you like, but I do think red would suit you nicely.”


He passed the card to Bree and stood up, signally their meeting was over. She stood and he escorted her to the door, his hand firmly on her elbow; his grip sent shivers through her body.


At the door he stopped and said, “Oh, and when we’re alone, you may call me Alex.”


As the door shut behind her, she couldn’t help wondering how she got here. What did Alex mean when he said he’d been watching her?


She walked in a haze to the elevator. It all seemed too good to be true, but sometimes life turned on a dime.


Stepping on to the elevator, she repeated her new mantra: fortune favors the bold. This was her moment and she had to seize it.



At home, Bree had just taken off her old heels, vowing to throw them away after her first check, and settled on the couch when there was a knock at the door. With a frustrated groan, she rose and marched to the door.


She looked through the peephole, but the view was obstructed. Puzzled, she opened the door. The UPS man was standing in the doorway stacking several large boxes.


“This is just the beginning,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder to the truck, “…whole lot more.”


She let him in and he stacked the boxes in the living room, making trip after trip to the truck. She gave him a ten dollar tip as he left and began to examine the room. The once small living room was stacked wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling. Many of the boxes had designer names, most she didn’t recognize.


She sighed and laughed to herself, amazed that this was her life now. Her last boyfriend had never even bought her a meal. They spent two years together and to the bitter end he insisted they split the check on everything.


She thought, good riddance to bad rubbish. Throwing off the top of the nearest box, she pushed him out of her mind forever.


Reaching inside, she pulled out a full length sheer, tight black dress. Even in the poor lighting of her apartment it sparkled. She pressed it against her body; it looked like a perfect fit. Alex had a good eye.


She threw open more boxes and found long gloves, more dresses and a dozen stiletto heels.


Bree sighed and sat down surveying the room. She was beginning to feel overwhelmed and half of the room was still filled with unopened presents. She chastised herself: now was not the time to complain.


She pulled down the nearest box onto her lap and opened it: it was full of lingerie. There were tiny string underwear and lacey bras. The reality of what she would be doing with Alex hit her.


All at once, the gifts were forgotten. She would be wearing this in front of him. He wanted her to wear it in front of him.


She clutched the clothing to her chest, more than the money she just wanted to be with Alex. She wondered if he imagined her wearing this… the two of them together… She shook her head and laughed out loud. Tomorrow night could not come fast enough.



After trying on several dresses, Bree had a hard time choosing one… until she came to the red dress. It was a deep crimson like a glazed apple. It looked the best on her and she knew it would make Alex happy.


Waiting for the driver, she stood in front of her closet mirror, running her hands over the dress. It clung to her curves, lifting her brea**sts and as**s making them seem fuller and firmer.


Suddenly, she noticed her hair. Without thinking, she had pulled it into the severe bun she wore to work every day. Pulling the pins out she ran her fingers through her hair and shook it violently.


The door bell rang. Nervously, she turned checking herself again in the mirror. Her hair was a bit wild with a slight curl at the ends. It changed her whole appearance, adding youth and vitality to her look. Bree thought it suited her well.


She selected a pair of stilettos for the night. She walked down the hallway with one foot in front of the other like she was on a tightrope.


Opening the door, the driver smiled at her appreciatively. She let him indulge for a moment before picking up the card Alex had given her off the coffee table. She handed the card to him and he gave it back without looking at it.


“Hold on to it Ms. Cregg. When you get to the house, show the man at the door.”


He stepped aside and held out his arm inviting her to the car, a Mercedes-Benz. Bree stepped out of the house and closed the door behind her and locked it. Walking towards the car, she couldn’t help laughing at how out of place it looked in front of her small house in the suburbs.


“It is a bit much, isn’t it Ms. Cregg?” the driver said laughing with her as if they shared a confidential joke. He opened the door for her and before sitting she turned to him.


“What is your name?”


“Marcus.”


“Marcus, you may call me Bree.” She sat down in the car. Marcus nodded to her and closed the door.



It was a twenty-five minute drive through the hills and past several gates before they arrived at the mansion. As they drove, Bree looked out at the setting sun and the orchard fields. For a moment she let herself believe that this was her new life. She imagined she owned this land with Alex. She had to stop, she told herself: Alex probably just wanted a fling.


They approached the sprawling mansion from a long driveway. Every light was turned on. Silhouettes of people moved in front of the windows. Bree could faintly hear music. It was as if the whole house was alive.


The car stopped and a man opened her door. Marcus turned to her. Shaking his finger at her and smiling he said, “Don’t have too much fun now.” She returned his smile and stepped out of the car.


The man shut the car door and offered her his arm. She slipped her hand in his elbow. Remembering the card, she pulled it out of her small purse and showed him. He examined it briefly and handed it back.

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