The Billionaire's Sweet Trouble

02

"Alright! The night's young. Let's have fun." I poured more tequila into our glasses, then shouted, "Bottoms up!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Max waiting for me by the entrance, frowning. I untangled myself from the girls seated next to me and approached him.

"What is it, Max? What's the problem?"

"It's not my business to say, sir."

I chuckled. "Come on. You can tell me anything. Spill it out. Forget I'm your boss tonight."

"Well, it's a pity that that blogger drove five hours from Dansville, rented an Airbnb, and will get nothing."

"Ah—so she's not just an old-maid librarian but a village woman." I smirked. "Well, life is not always a bed of roses, Max. You have to work hard to get to the top."

Max's eyebrows rose questioningly, but he remained silent.

"I may be rich," I continued, "but even I still have to prove myself to my parents to secure a position in the company. It sucks, you know."

"Don't you want to run your family's business?"

"I do. Business is in my blood, I enjoy the thrill of closing a deal, engaging with people, and managing, but I'm still young and want to live my life to the fullest. Life is too short to focus only on making money. We can't even bring it to our grave! We have to enjoy life, experience new things, and meet different kinds of people... to be happy and fulfilled. Do you get what I mean?"

"Yes, sir. I understand. But the blogger—"

I waved my hand, settling back at the table with Tucker and the girls.

Immediately, my phone rang. It was my executive secretary, James.

"Sir, it's eight twenty already. You're late for your dinner interview with Miss Treble."

I let out an exasperated sigh, weighing up if I should go to the interview. I wanted to please my parents and prove I was worthy of being the future CEO of our company, but what the heck? Tucker was in town, the drinks were flowing, and I was having the time of my life.

The girl beside me started kissing my neck, melting my resolve.

"I can't make it tonight. I'm busy. Cancel the meeting, James," I said, turning to the girl and capturing her lips with mine.

"But sir, your parents set up this interview. This is critical to divert the media's attention from the princess drama."

"I said, cancel it. I don't need a boring spinster to interview me," I replied more firmly, kissing the other girl sitting on my left.

"I can't, sir. Your position at the company will be at stake if you upset your parents again. This is your last chance to prove that you're capable of staying as a COO of the company and heir of your family's business empire."

"Ah—they can't do that to me. I'm their only son." My lips twisted, suddenly upset. "Give the phone to Miss Treble. I'll cancel it myself."

Sweet

I wore an all-black outfit for dinner while Marie was in fuchsia. We arrived at eight on the dot at a very fancy restaurant in New York. The high ceiling and unique chandeliers hanging in every corner were very impressive. The metallic motif gave the ambiance of a futuristic diner.

We sat at an elegant table, but there was no sign of Sebastian Stavrakos.

Again.

"It's eight fifteen, and he's not here. What is fucking wrong with that guy?" Marie whispered to me before turning to James, who looked dashing in a black tuxedo. "Did he reply to your text yet?"

"No." He shook his head vigorously, staring at Marie. "Maybe he's in-in another emergency."

"Again!" She rolled her eyes.

"Let's just wait. If he doesn't turn up, then we're done with him." I stood up, feeling so upset already. "I'll go to the ladies' room."

While inside the bathroom cubicle, I heard women enter, talking loudly.

"Tell me what happened?" a girl asked.

"I had dinner with Sebastian Stavrakos last night," the second girl—with a thick Russian accent—replied.

"Oh wow, you're so lucky." The first girl sounded so impressed.

"Yeah, but not lucky enough to get into his bed. He left with that German model at midnight."

"I'm jealous. She definitely had morning sex with him."

"For sure."

That bastard! These women had just confirmed my suspicion that he was with his fuck buddies.

What an unprofessional liar and time-waster!

He treated me and my interview as unimportant and a joke. He should have said that he did not want to be interviewed before I bet my career on it!

I strode out of the restroom and back to our table. James was on the phone and turned to me.

"It's Mr. Stavrakos. He wants to talk to you," he said, passing me his phone.

"Yes, Mr. Stavrakos?" I answered in controlled anger.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Treble. Something bad happened tonight. I can't see you. I have another emergency." His voice sounded disappointed, but by now, I knew he was faking it.

"Pretty sure your French friend came for a visit."

"You're right, Miss Treble." He laughed coolly. "I'm amazed that you're good at wild guessing."

Time to bring out the heavy artillery. This man needed to be put in his place.

"Of course! I can even read your mind, Mr. Stavrakos. You're going to postpone our interview to tomorrow morning. And tomorrow morning, you'll call again, postponing it to dinner because your Filipino friend arrived!"

He chuckled. "Miss Treble, you seem upset."

"Ha! Mr. Stavrakos"—I could not hold onto my anger any longer, and I was feisty as hell—"I'm sure you're having fun fooling me. You can take all your fake emergencies with you to hell for all I care."

"Miss Treble, if you're jealous of my friends and want a date...all you have to do is ask," he answered mockingly.

"Oh my God!" I laughed sarcastically and replied bitingly, "Mr. Stavrakos, I wouldn't date you in a million years! Adios, Mr. Stavrakos. You wasted my time. Goodbye!"

I hung up before he could come up with a smooth reply.

That bastard had not just wasted my time, money, and effort but also ruined my book deal! Men like him needed to learn a lesson.

I was going to find a way to make Sebastian Stavrakos wish he'd never stood me up.