Page 24 of Interning For A Billionaire

I remember the intern, Lauren, her name was. Very attractive in that model way, all skinny legs and long hair and lips that had been surgically enhanced to look all plump and inviting. If anyone had been manipulated into the relationship, it was Darian. He’d fallen for her, hard and fast. He moved out of the house he had with his family, into an apartment with Lauren.

I was sure that she’d used him to get into the company, but she had not been discreet and when word got out, the gossip was mean and damaging. She decided to do an about-turn, accused Darian of coercing her, essentially raping her. Poor guy. He was devastated. Lost his marriage, his new girlfriend, his reputation, and most of his hair. Last time I saw him in Chicago, he was bald and fat.

I didn’t want that happening to me.

Not because of a woman.

And another intern at that!

Belle was good at her job, though.

She had pulled off the comedy night and that had impressed me. Her Feelgood Fridays idea was another winner. I had to hand it to her and Josie, clearly, she was a good appointment.

If I were to take things further with her, what were the chances of it going south? If I was honest, very good, probably over ninety percent.

Those are not good odds.

I switched off the TV and went rummaging through my fridge.

Only healthy food everywhere, no chocolate or biscuit in sight. Not even a little bit of candy or the smallest tub of ice-cream. Disappointed, I grabbed some carrot sticks and munched on them.

I believe in being healthy but really, what was the point of a healthy life if you couldn’t enjoy it? At least, I had booze. I poured myself some whiskey and stared at the night sky.

I thought about what Hassan had said the other day about Carmen and how he was willing to consider the whole baby idea because he didn’t want to lose her. That had never happened to me. The moment any woman became too demanding in any way, she was out the door. I told myself I was too busy, too stressed but the truth is, I am selfish, and I don’t want to compromise.

The world is full of beautiful women and most of them will say yes to at least one date with me. I know it sounds arrogant, but I’ve never had trouble attracting women. I always have a list of women I can contact if I want a date to a party or some event.

Of course, sometimes, you want someone you can get comfortable with, put your feet up, not have to talk too much. But those relationships are costly, and not financially speaking. Alice had been the woman I had probably cared about most. After about a month of seeing her regularly, I was beginning to think of taking things a step further, which was basically introducing her to a friend.

But, she had to go back to New York. She’d been in San Francisco on a break from her practice. She had just gotten divorced and was enjoying her freedom. She had her own money, which I liked too. She was renting a cute spot, doing yoga on the beach, taking long walks and contemplating the real meaning of life. That sort of thing is great for women, it seems, makes the skin glow and relaxes the shoulders.

But seriously, I really liked her.

Then her replacement at her practice in the city fell ill and she had to rush back to work. It was going to be temporary, she told me she would look for someone to take her place. I flew in to see her once and hated every minute of being there. Well, not every minute. The time spent in bed with her, drinking wine and talking was good. She’d grown up a lot like me, privileged and wealthy, but had parents who were cold and emotionally unavailable.

We tried to make the relationship work long distance for a while.

I get myself another whiskey and then another.

Thinking about ex-girlfriends is thirsty work, I find.

Eventually, I try to go to bed again. In a few hours, I can get up, go for a run or go climbing, plenty of things to do.

But I fall asleep, of course, dreaming of Belle, the one thing I don’t really want to do. I dream of her in a cornfield, naked, the green leaves caressing her body, gently tickling her in a light wind. She turns to look at me, walking towards me, her breasts swaying, her hips moving as if she is dancing. Even though she is walking towards me, she does not come any closer. Oddly enough, it’s like she is moving further away. Every step she takes towards me, does not bring her closer. I wake up, confused and disorientated.

But, I think the dream is a warning.

I’m not a big one for signs and premonitions, astrology and all that gunk. Give me numbers and stats and page views and I know what to tell you. But waking up from that dream, I had a bad feeling.

Most of it, probably had something to do with hunger and a need for coffee. That, and an email from a client about their pages not loading properly and what the fuck was going on. I immediately called our dev team and got all our top developers onto the problem. Then I made my way to work to get a head start on things.

It was late afternoon before I took a break, sitting back from the screen to give my eyes a break from all that code. We’d found the problem code and the developers were fixing it.

Maya came in with some coffee for me.

“Everyone is talking about the massages,” she said to me. “They’re amazing, did you have one on Friday?”

“I did, yeah,” I said, thinking of Belle’s tongue in my mouth, the way her nails dug into my scalp as she held the back of my head. So much passion in her grip, such strength in her arms.

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