Page 3 of My Mystery Billionaire

“Elusive Hank Enders, founder and sole owner of MetriCooks, sells his entire stake in the business for $12 billion.”

“Hank the Hermit sells multi-billion-dollar tech company.”

“Where has the reclusive Hank Enders gone with his billions?”

I don't know wherehe'sgone, guys. I'm just happy you're after this Hank fella and notme!

Out of the corner of my other eye, I'm noticing a tall, dark, beautiful woman intent on what I'm playing. Looks like she's alone. Well, it's about time to wrap up.

But this beautiful woman is coming my way.

Don't panic. Just another person walking around the club.

I couldn't help but notice she was tall—almost as tall as me—and had nice curves that her soft clothes could not possibly hide. And contrary to my straight thin, sandy hair, hers looked like a dark riot of tight unruly curls.

Nice.

Even to someone like you who shies away from all human contact? Yeah!

“Hello! I just had to tell you how I enjoy your music,” she gushed.

It seemed she was addressing everyone in the club; her voice was so loud!

“I was tired from moving. I just noticed the club today, so I came in to relax. First time I've been in. The bartender over there,” she waved toward Ralph the owner of the club, “told me that you play several nights a week.”

I didn't respond with more than a short nod.

“One of my college friends played 12-string acoustic, but he was a toddler at it compared to what you can do with the guitar.”

I continued to pack up and even moved toward the exit with a wave to Ralph.

She didn’t relent, “I'm on my way home now, so can I walk out with you?” I just nodded.

The woman took my arm! What a brazen woman! But don't be rude to her.

At the exit, I looked to the right with a sort of nod to tell her that is the way I was going. Thankfully, she seemed to be able to read my mind. She was saying, “I'm going this way as well. If you're going very far we'll go right by my building.”

Hendrik! Wake up! What are you, twelve? Speak to the woman!

“So you're from the neighborhood like me?” I looked at her.

She is so beautiful. Wow... Those eyes are amazing.

Yeah, and her curves, not to mention those soft-looking breasts that are leading her way?

Don't be rude!

She was already responding, “Yes, I got a new job the other week and the commute was a killer from the very start,” she laughed. “So I looked around for something that I could afford, and where my mother wouldn't faint if she came to see me there. And something way closer to the office.”

That she lived in this neighborhood at all really surprised me. Certainly, we were sort of on the borderline between gangland and a safe-ish neighborhood and an industrial zone that the freeway divided into two sections. But it sounded like she was living alone. That couldn't be good.

And I said, “Didn't you realize that this is a dangerous neighborhood to live in for a single woman? For anyone really now that I think about it.”

I noticed that she leaned into me. I don’t speak loudly. Plus I’ve been told that my voice is so deep that it always sounds like I’m whispering.

Oh, well. I got what I got.

“Well, do you live here?” she asked, looking at me. I nodded. “Yes, I do. And I get your point,” I had to laugh. Something about this loud (really loud!), exuberant, gushing, chatty woman was … comfortable. “I live about six blocks from here. The wrong way.” I looked at her pointedly and flashed my eyebrows up and down as if to say that I was aware that I wasn't following my own advice about the safety of the neighborhood. She couldn't know that I had an ace in the hole.

---