Page 2 of Flirting with my Billionaire Boss

I walk away from my dirtbag of a husband and head to the bathrooms where I meet up with the janitor.

“I heard my ex back there on the phone,” I tell her once we’re inside the bathroom. “He was talking to another woman. He called her darling and said he wanted to meet up with her after he drops me off at the house.”

“Cheating sack of garbage,” the janitor says. “It’s a good thing you’re running. You’re better off without him.”

“I know you’re right, but it still hurts to think he’s been cheating on me. What’s wrong with me? Am I not enough for him?”

“It’s not you. It’s him. He’s a loser, and you shouldn’t waste a single tear on him.”

It never feels great to be lied to and cheated on. That’s why I need to get out of here and start a new life. Somewhere where Markus won’t find me.

I take off the smock and wig and hand it to my new friend. “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry you’re not having a better day. You deserve better. No one should have to put up with what you’ve been going through.”

I give her a hug. She smells like cleaner and something else I’d rather not imagine. But I don’t care because she took the time to help a stranger.

“You take care,” she calls out to me.

“Thank you.” I turn to leave the bathroom and weave through the crowd, dragging my suitcase behind me. Walking until I get to the escalator that takes me down to the train that connects the gates, I pause and look over my shoulder. People push past me in a hurry to make their connecting flights or collect their baggage.

Can I leave without knowing where to go? Credit cards are traceable, so those are out of the question. I only have five hundred dollars on me, the last of the money Markus gave me for my spending cash in Hawaii. That should be enough to get me transportation and a place to stay until I can figure out what I’m going to do next, but more would always be better and can get me further. I ask directions to the nearest ATM and take out as much as it will let me.

After taking the escalator down to the lowest level, I ride the train all the way to the part of the airport that has the baggage claim and the ground transportation. Just before I head outside, my phone rings. It’s Markus. I ignore it and step through the doors that lead outside.

I’m done with wealthy, entitled men. All Markus cares about is his money and how he can either earn more or spend more. Family and friends mean very little to him. I don’t want this baby to be raised to be anything like him. I’m sick of Markus’s money and him trying to use it to threaten and manipulate me.

A text message buzzes on my phone, and I glance down at it.

Markus: Where are you? I’ve been waiting forever for you to get out of the bathroom.

I don’t respond. Instead, I hail a taxi. After I put my luggage in the trunk, I’m greeted by the warm smile of my driver. He’s a bigger guy in his mid-twenties with thick black glasses, messy hair, and a day’s worth of beard.

“Where to?” he asks.

My head spins as I climb inside. “Somewhere far from here.”

My phone vibrates again.

Markus: Hello? I’m about to send someone to the bathroom to go look for you. You need to respond to me right now. I’m not kidding.

The driver chuckles, oblivious to my plight, and I look up from my phone.

“Are we in a movie or something? You’re going to need to be a little more specific than that.”

“I don’t know this area well. Just take me somewhere at least a couple of hours away and where it would be hard to find me.”

He scratches on the patchy beard covering his chin. “Ever heard of Blue Mountain?”

“No.”

He turns around and faces forward. “My uncle lives there. You’ll love it. It’s a little town in the North Georgia mountains. I go up there to see him all the time.”

I buckle my seatbelt. “Sounds good to me.” He pulls out into the crazy Atlanta traffic.

“What’s Blue Mountain like?” I ask.

“It’s a bit of a tourist town. Lots of people in Atlanta have their vacation cabins up there.”

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