Trapping the billionaire✓

Chapter 8: Diner with Madison

Tristan's POV

I leaned my back into my chair, slowly massaging my neck. I had another busy week and so far, everything has been hectic. All everyone has managed to do is give excuses and I can't deal with incompetence.

My mind returned to the girl from two nights ago. What happened that night remains a mystery to me. I don't know why I can't remember anything from that night, surely, I would have remembered her. She was hard to miss, simply irresistible.

I needed to get her out of my thoughts, all she was after was my money and she failed at it.

Luke knocked on my door before entering.

"Sir, your mother called. She said it's time for you to your up your end of the deal, you have to bring a girl home." He spoke.

I rolled up my eyes.

"Tell her I'm busy," I spoke. "And also remind the architects that I want to see their ideas for the renovations immediately."

"Sir, they still have another week to work on that project," Luke spoke.

"Well, tell them I want to see it before the end of the day," I spoke.

"One last thing, Maddison is waiting. I've tried to get her to leave in the last hour, but I think it's best if you deal with this yourself." He spoke. "Besides, she is starting to annoy a lot of people."

I sighed, another problem.

The last time she came to my penthouse I had to lie that I had a doctor's appointment.

Usually, I'm a lot better at getting women off my back but her family has been doing business with mine for a while. Messing with them would just ruin any further business deals for me. This is why I was just hoping that she would get a hint and leave me alone.

Luke stepped out of my office as Maddison walked in.

"Well, since you weren't feeling well yesterday, I brought you some soup. It would still be warm if your assistant wasn't so rude and annoying." She rumbled.

She placed the lunchbox on my table.

"How was the doctor's appointment?" She asked.

I sighed.

"It's really bad, the doctor said I'm terminally ill. I don't know how long I have left." I touched my chest pretending to be sick. "In fact, he said I needed to rest, and I was just about to do that." I continued.

I was hoping she would get the hint. Instead, she pulled out a chair to sit on.

"Poor baby, you work too hard." She spoke. "You never got back to me about what you thought of my idea, I think you and I will really work well together." She winked.

I really doubt it.

"Well, if I manage to live that long it would be a great project," I whispered trying to fake a headache.

I can't believe any of what she said, all I remember is trying to get away from her.

"Maybe we should have dinner together one of these days. Maybe it just might help you feel better." She spoke.

"Sure," I answered.

My phone vibrated; it was another message from mom. I only had to look at the exclamations at the end of her sentence to know what it was about. I needed to bring someone for dinner.

"You know sugar, if you ever need anything from me at all, you can call me anytime." She continued.

"Well, too much sugar can give you diabetes," I answered.