Page 1 of My Cruel Billionaire

Chapter One

Jenna

“Would you like another glass of merlot?”

I glanced up from my phone, a smile finding its way to my face. I met the waitress’s gaze as she hovered nearby. Viviani’s proved busy that night, every table taken and a line of people waiting to be seated going out the door.

It’s no wonder that the place was so popular. Not only was it one of the most elegant, most lovely eateries in town, the head chef was world-renowned as a culinary expert.

The waitress was waiting for my answer. I made an effort not to look out the picture glass window, which displayed a magnificent view of the city skyline. Instead I focused on the waitress, so as not to be rude.

“No thank you,” I said, glancing at my wine glass and finding it empty. Again. “I don’t want to get plastered before my date even gets here.”

Somewhere out of sight I heard a string quartet playing. I think they were on the opposite side of the raised gazebo-like structure that occupied the middle of the restaurant lobby floor. I think it was a concerto by Vivaldi they were playing, but I was always more of a Grateful Dead kind of music fan.

She nodded, but a worried frown etched its way onto her pinched face.

“He’s twenty minutes late at this point, isn’t he?”

“Twenty?” I blew air out of my lips in a razz, my face turning into a glower. “More like thirty at this point.”

“Is that why you’re on your phone?” she asked, pointing at the device on the tablecloth. “I noticed you’ve been looking at it constantly.”

“No, I’m dealing with work stuff,” I said, flipping the phone over so the screen didn’t show. I worked for Evan Jones, one of the richest men in the world. The things that are discussed via text can move mountains, figuratively if not literally, and I didn’t want the screen visible while she was standing so close.

Not that I believed she was going to turn into a corporate spy or anything. But these days you have to be careful. If the waitress had gone on social media and blabbed about something she saw on my phone, stock prices could take a hit.

I had to be responsible. Also, I will confess, I was being a bit of a workaholic. It just seems like there’s always something going on with work and I couldn’t take even a brief moment of respite for myself.

“Well, I applaud your hustle, working while your deadbeat date makes you wait.”

I laughed softly, feeling her comment down in my bones.

“Men, am I right?” I said.

She laughed, because really, that’s all you have to say to another woman.

“Yes, you’re right. Let me know if you change your mind about that merlot.”

“Will do.”

She fluttered off to deal with other guests, and I flipped my phone back open. It was kind of odd that my date, Joe, hadn’t shown up yet. It was even odder, not to mention rude, that he had made no attempt to contact me whatsoever. I knew he was busy, hell I was busy too.

I think that date was the first time I’d been out and about for months.

I tried to ignore my mounting anxiety and concentrated on answering work emails. I must have gotten a couple hundred of them every day, and most of them were important. As in millions of dollars important.

First date jitters aside, I was glad to be out on the town, in a nice place with nice music and nice ambience.

My table was scaped to perfection, with a dark red cloth laden with decorative flourishes. The crystal vase with an exotic purple blossom in the center was only the start. The napkin rings, made of the purest silver, featured an engraving of a waterfront scene complete with an old-timey ship with more sails than you could shake a stick at. I pictured some craftsman meticulously putting in all of the details on that napkin ring and it made me tired just thinking about it.

I glanced around the restaurant, looking for something to take my mind off of the empty chair across from me. A couple nearby appeared to be on an anniversary date. They were a bit older than me, but the looks in their eyes made them seem young. I guessed that love was the magical ingredient in their fountain of youth.

Me, I just wanted my date to actually show up this time.

Because I was bored, and getting eyestrain from looking at all of those emails, I kept looking around the restaurant. My eyes naturally gravitated toward the VIP section, the gazebo-like structure in the center of the restaurant floor. The lattice work gave a sort of anonymity to the denizen occupying it. I could see a man inside. I couldn’t see his face, but I could see by the cut of his suit everything he had was custom-made. His haircut was impeccable, worn in a short style.

I saw the red flash of light on his face for a brief moment as he lit his cigar. That really threw me for a loop. Nobody was supposed to smoke indoors in the city, it’s a law. I wondered how that guy got away with it. My first thought was he was probably a dangerous mobster or something and nobody wanted to mess with him.

---