Billionaire

Chapter 13

I set Benjamin's coffee down on his desk rather hastily, intent on getting out of the room as quickly as possible. Unfortunately for me, though, the slightly unkempt attire that he has on this morning distracts me momentarily, giving him enough time to notice me standing there.

Why does he look like he just rolled out of bed? He's usually so professional...

Unwanted images of Benjamin sleeping in late with a girl suddenly flood my mind, causing my heart to sink.

He probably went to dinner with someone else last night, didn't he?

"Oh, Aria. I meant to ask you, what's your business email address?"

At my blank expression, he elaborates.

"So I can send you the details for the business trip next week- the one you're organizing?"

My eyes widen, and I inhale deeply before muttering a reply.

"Oh, um...I don't have one right now."

Just as expected, his fingers halt their typing.

"You don't have a business email?"

I nod impishly. He really loves repeating what I've just said but in a ruder tone, doesn't he?

He sighs loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly and giving me yet another chance to stare at his striking face. I swear, he is the only person I've ever met who actually suits bed-head. The way his dark locks are falling over his forehead and curling slightly just makes me want to run my hands through them even more. It gives him a boyish charm that he doesn't usually have when he's all groomed and tailored to perfection.

"Well, can you make one as soon as possible, please?"

I inhale sharply again in reply.

"Um, well, I don't actually have a, uh, laptop at home right now-"

He stares at me as if disbelieving what I've said. I sigh exasperatedly.

"I have cereal for dinner, remember? A MacBook Air isn't exactly a priority of mine."

To my utter surprise, the corners of his mouth turn up slightly, although he tries to hide it, and a feeling of pride washes over me when I realize that I just cheered him up.

"Windows or Apple?"

"What?-"

"-I'm asking you for your preference of laptop brand. I'm ordering you one now."

All the air leaves my body. After a few seconds of silence, I realize he's still waiting for my reply.

"You don't need to." I shake my head in exasperation.

"Windows or Apple?" He repeats slowly.

I stutter as he glances at the ceiling in exasperation.

"Okay...um, Windows, please...thank you."

He begins to type away again, and I stare down at my clasped fingers nervously; why am I so anxious all of a sudden?

I feel as if it's my cue to leave, but then he suddenly speaks again.

"Are you alright?"

He looks up from his screen, leaning forward and resting his chin on his clasped hands with his brow furrowed. I nod quickly, smiling widely at him to prove my point.

Why does he look so hot when he's concerned?

"What did you have for dinner last night?"

My face falls.

Another conversation about food? Are you kidding me?

We lock eyes, and I swear he reads my mind because his jaw clenches and his eyes harden.

"You need to eat." He says sternly, pronouncing each syllable separately as if I'm a child.

My eyes roll on their own accord. I know I'm walking on eggshells here, but I can't help the question that slips past my lips.

"Why do you care so much?"

He parts his lips to speak, undoubtedly to give me the same reason he did before, but I get in before he can say a word.

"The actual reason, preferably."

"Aria- you're my assistant. I'm not obligated to tell you anything."

"Yes, that's true. And you're my boss, so I'm not obligated to obey anything you tell me to do outside of work."

He exhales loudly

"You really want to know?"

Again, I roll my eyes. Thankfully, he understands my reply as a yes, but I can tell he's not impressed by my attitude.

"Okay then. I'll tell you tonight at dinner, but only if you promise me something in return."

I glance up, cocking my head to the side to show I'm listening.

"Promise me you will eat the equivalent of the meal you skipped last night."

My eyes widen, but I manage to nod slowly, agreeing to his deal as I'm pretty sure it benefits me more anyway. Unfortunately, he doesn't give me long to take in the rare, joyful gleam that appears in his eyes before he's patted the large stack of papers in front of him pointedly.

He smiles charmingly as I grasp the towering pile, and I wonder why he suddenly looks so happy with himself when all he got was a promise that I'll eat a lot tonight.

What a weirdo.

What an insanely attractive weirdo.

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