The Billionaire Princess

The reflection that stared back at her told the world exactly what she wanted it to believe. She was a confident woman who had everything she wanted. What would the world think if it knew the truth? Sure, she possessed all the material items a person could want and had a family that loved her even if they didn't always take her ambitions seriously. While her father and brothers supported her political aspirations, her mom believed she should be the wife of a politician not a politician herself. As far as being confident, well that was a relative term. In some areas of her life confidence flowed through her, and in others, insecurities plagued her, especially when it came to relationships. Too many times in the past she'd been burned, the worst being at the hands of Phillip. Memories of how he'd used her made her cringe. She should have seen through his ruse. Thank goodness she learned the truth before he could damage her father's campaign.

  I don't need to worry about that with Christopher, do I? He didn't need money and if he wanted connections he already had them with Jake. If he wanted to see where things went between them, he must be attracted to her. Nothing else made sense.

  Regardless, she didn't know if getting involved with him was such a good idea. Before she made any decisions, she needed to consider Jake. How would a relationship with Christopher impact her relationship with him? How about Christopher and Jake's friendship? What kind of effect might it have on that?

  Frustrated by her indecision, Sara dabbed more concealer on the dark circles under her eyes. Last night after Christopher left, she went to bed but sleep refused to come until sometime around three that morning. Now she needed to hide the evidence of her sleepless night before Christopher arrived.

  Once satisfied with her eyes, she covered her lips with a pale pink lipstick. “Not perfect but it will do,” Sara said to her reflection in the bathroom mirror. With nothing else to do but wait, Sara fixed herself some hot tea and reviewed her email.

  Just before nine o'clock, a knock on the door pulled her attention from the email on the screen. Christopher. They'd agreed to meet at nine, and he wasn’t the late type. In one fluid movement she pushed back her chair and closed her laptop, a sense of anticipation surging through her body. When had she last felt that?

  Sara pulled open the door without looking through the peephole. "Good morning. I'm all ready to go, just need to grab my things." She turned on her heel before he could answer. Sara wanted to leave as soon as possible. If they stayed in the room they might return to last night's conversation. Something they needed to address at some point, but not now. First, they needed today's business out of the way. Then they could discuss things between them.

  “We have time. No need to rush."

  Sara looked over her shoulder at him. Today he wore a black Armani suit, the same style Jake favored, with a light blue dress shirt and striped tie, and as he stood there with his legs braced slightly apart and his hands in his pockets, she was once again struck by how much he'd changed since their first meeting years ago. Nothing from his appearance back then even hinted at the gorgeous man he was now.

  "I like to be early. It's safer that way." In fact she couldn't recall an instance when she hadn't been early. It was simply the norm for her and everyone knew it.

  Christopher opened the door when she approached. "Okay. I don't have a problem with that."

  Sara expected him to lead her to a limo outside, but instead he opened the door to a midnight blue Maserati. "Did you buy this for your parents too?" she asked when he slid behind the wheel.

  Christopher laughed. "Not exactly. I keep it in LA to use when I'm here. I've only convinced my father to try it once." He shifted the car into first gear. With ease he moved into traffic on the road. "He says it makes him nervous. He'd rather stick with his pickup. I keep telling him he doesn't know what he's missing," he said as he accelerated and switched lanes.

  She agreed with Christopher there. At the same time, she admired that his parents hadn't changed as their son's economic status grew. Or at least it sounded as if they hadn't.

  "Did you hear back from Senator Healy?"

  Sara tapped her fingers against the leather portfolio on her lap. "He liked the changes. Said we should proceed as we see fit." She never doubted that he'd agree. He had never ignored her suggestions since she'd been working for him.

  "Excellent. I think we'll get this wrapped up quickly then." Christopher stopped at a red light and looked over at her, his eyes dropping to her fingers.

  She followed his gaze and asked, "Are you anxious to get home?" An unexpected stab of pain shot through her chest. Had she read him wrong last night? Was he only looking for another couple nights of sex and used the line about giving her time as a way to soften her up? Maybe he thought she'd be more agreeable if he appeared to be a gentleman?

  "It's not that, though LA isn't my favorite place. I thought the sooner we finished this, the sooner people learn about this new education initiative.”

  His answer washed away her concerns. Los Angles had never been one of her favorite cities either. True it had fabulous shopping but she much preferred New York or Washington overall if talking about US cities, though she couldn't pinpoint exactly why. “What is your favorite place?”

  “Depends on the time of year, but overall I'm not a huge fan of cities.” Christopher turned his gaze to the road.

  Thanks to the image he'd cultivated over the last few years, she'd expected him to say New York or maybe London so his answer surprised her. “I love the city. You can always find something to do,” Sara admitted. “But it is nice to get away from it too.”

  When they entered Bruce Gordon’s office forty minutes later his entire team had gathered around the conference table. He was a well-known executive who worked on ad campaigns for several senators and representatives as well as the previous president, so she'd expected someone older. She guessed Bruce was only in his mid-to-late forties. Yet, there was no denying the authority he held. There was also no missing the fact that he thought very highly of himself and assumed everyone shared his opinion.

  "With some adjustments we can work these ideas in," Bruce said, his arm brushing against hers again.

  Sara tried to inch away a little farther without moving onto Christopher's lap. Already she'd moved away from Bruce while she explained the changes they wanted. The first time his arm touched hers, she considered it an accident. But it happened too many times now for it to be accidental, especially considering the space between them. The fabric of Christopher's pants slid against Sara's legs as she angled closer to him. He must think I'm nuts. I'm practically sitting on his lap? She'd have to explain later.

  "How long will it take?" Christopher asked, his voice all business. The more carefree tone he'd used when he picked her up disappeared the minute they walked into Gordon's office.

  "A day. Perhaps two. We should be able to start shooting on Thursday as planned."

  Sara liked it when everything ran smoothly. From the sound of it, even with the changes everything was right on track. "I will let Senator Healy know." She scanned the questions she had prepared that morning for the second time. A tiny check mark set beside each one now. "We've covered everything on my agenda." She closed the cover for the portfolio.

  "Once the new scripts are ready I can either have them emailed over or I could give them to you over dinner."

  It took every ounce of her control but she kept herself from cringing at the suggestion. At least she thought she did. She felt Christopher's hand grip hers.

  "We have plans for this evening, Bruce. So email them to Sara when they're done," Christopher said, his voice polite but insistent.

  How had he guessed she didn't want dinner with the ad executive? Maybe her expression gave her away after all. Whatever the reason for his interference, she'd have to thank him later. It had gotten her out of what could have been an uncomfortable situation.

  By the way she kept moving closer to him during the meeting, he'd known she didn't like Bruce Gordon. Not that he blamed her. In many ways he re
minded him of the stereotypical used-car salesman seen in the movies. The man's dinner invitation hadn't come as any surprise to him either. Bruce's eyes hadn't moved off Sara since they walked in. When he'd heard the invitation and Sara's sharp intake of breath, he'd reacted without any hesitation just like the night he'd walked into the ballroom and saw her ex-boyfriend giving her a hard time. That night he'd reacted more out of a need to protect. Today, jealousy fueled his actions. Just the idea of Sara out with Bruce tied his stomach in knots. Rationally, he knew it shouldn't. She hadn't hinted about her feelings toward him. Still the emotions had him moving in to protect what he perceived as his.

  Now with Bruce and his office behind them, he felt more like himself again. "I hope I didn't overstep back there. You didn't look like you wanted to have dinner with Gordon." Before she could open the car door, he pulled it open.

  “No, thank you.” Sara placed a hand on his upper arm. The heat from her palm seeped through his suit jacket branding his bicep. "And if you don't already have plans why don't we get together."

  Her words sent a shot of adrenaline through his system. "You name it."

  Sara beamed up at him from the passenger seat, her large gray eyes bright and a full smile on her face. "I hoped you'd say that," Sara answered before closing the car door and preventing him from responding.

  A thousand different potential outings went through his head as he walked to the driver’s side of the car. None of them had included dinner at the Charter House, an upscale seafood restaurant near the ocean and then listening to a local band play on the beach before a fireworks show. Yet that was exactly what Sara wanted to do that evening. She told him she'd read in the hotel magazine that the band REAL played every Tuesday at Venice. He vaguely recognized the band’s name from the popular reality show Do You Have What It Takes. He knew they hadn't won but couldn't remember how they'd done overall.

  Since neither had been dressed for that type of outing he dropped her off at her hotel before returning to his apartment where the first thing he did was grab a quick snack. The meeting with Bruce and his associates had included lunch, yet his stomach already wanted more food and dinner was a few hours away. In fact he figured he'd have enough time to eat and get in a quick swim before he went back to the hotel for Sara.

  The refrigerator contained a wide variety of items. Before arriving he'd had the kitchen stocked, however nothing appealed to him. He wanted something simple and quick, nothing that required much preparation. As a kid his favorite after school snack had been a marshmallow fluff and banana sandwich. Even to this day he enjoyed the combination. He knew all three items were in the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of iced coffee from the refrigerator he closed the door and pulled the jar of fluff from the cupboard.

  A few minutes later he sat down at the table with two sandwiches, his iced coffee, and his laptop. Email didn't stop just because he wasn't in the office. With the first bite of the sandwich memories of coming home from school and spreading his homework out on the kitchen table flooded his mind. It had been almost a ritual for him every day throughout elementary and middle school. By high school, he'd often go straight to his part-time job or the library after school. With four younger sisters, home wasn't always the quietest place to study.

  Halfway through the second sandwich, his phone rang. Christopher's shoulders slumped when he heard the ring tone. Jake. He'd avoided his friend's calls and texts for weeks. He couldn't do it any longer.

  "How's it going?" Christopher asked after answering the phone.

  “No complaints. You? I heard you're working on an ad campaign with Sara."

  He instantly envisioned them kissing in her hotel room after the movie. What his friend didn't know wouldn't hurt him. "We should start shooting later this week."

  "Good luck with that. Listen I wanted to thank you for keeping Sara company after the wedding. We all bailed on you two that night, it was poorly done on our part."

  Christopher bit back a curse. He didn't need anyone reminding him of that night especially not Jake. "We both understood. No big deal." He leaned back in his chair and raked his fingers through his hair.

  "I still wanted to thank you. By the time I rolled out of bed the next morning you were gone."

  That morning in Hawaii he had packed his bag and left the hotel less than half an hour after Sara left his room. He hadn't seen anyone except Charlie's mom. Even now he felt a bit like a robber sneaking away while everyone still slept.

  "Don't worry, we enjoyed ourselves." More than you want to know.

  “Good glad to hear it. Make sure she has some fun while she's out there. She doesn't have much time for fun anymore."

  Christopher shook his head. If his friend only knew what they'd done that night in Hawaii he'd probably be saying something much different now. "I'll try." And he planned to, despite all the complications.

  "I need to go. Next time you're in the area stop by and join Charlie and me for dinner."

  After ending the call, Christopher finished the sandwich on his plate. His conversation with Jake only reinforced his guilt over his feelings toward Sara. On the one hand his rational self told him to keep as far away from her as possible. They'd already crossed a line once and managed to avoid any negative consequences. Perhaps they should leave it at that. If they went back to their infrequent run-ins, his friendship with Jake would be safe.

  His gut kept telling him something much different. In a way he'd never experienced before, he wanted to learn everything about Sara and be on the receiving end of her real smiles, not just the polite society smile she shared with most people. He wanted to hold her close while they watched movies and make love to her until the early morning hours.

  Backing off last night had been torture, but it'd been the right thing to do. Under no circumstance did he want to push her into anything. Has she thought about it today? Christopher pushed back from the table. He had more than two hours to kill before he went to pick her up. Would she have an answer for him tonight? Or would she pretend their conversation never happened? Only time would tell.