The Billionaire's Sweet Trouble

10

Sebastian

Sweet and I discussed the terms and conditions of the agreement, and then the contract was printed, signed, sealed, and executed. James, Max, and Sweet's assistant, Marie Laude, were our witnesses.

"Congratulations. You're now dating." Ted, my company lawyer, shook our hands.

Marie waved her hand, her eyes rolling. "I would rather say condolences."

"Now that we've settled the deal, maybe we can start by having lunch," I invited Sweet.

"Nope, I'm still full," Marie answered, rubbing her tummy. "I ate a lot of biscotti."

I cleared my throat and faced her. "I'm not asking you Miss Laude. I meant just the two of us." I looked at Sweet, who just stood there, clasping her bag. Charles and Keith. I read the brand. I wondered if it was heavy. She was clasping it with both hands.

"I can't." Sweet shrugged her shoulders. "We still have errands to do here in the city before heading back home. If possible, we want to arrive in Dansville before dark."

I was a bit disappointed. I wanted to show her the new futuristic cafe restaurant I built downtown. She would have been amazed at the aesthetic dishes and out of this world interior design. In fact, there were many places that I couldn't wait to show her. The painting of grandpa Kristov at the New York Museum, the first Stavrakos building, my dog store and grooming salon, my favorite park, and many more.

"Next time then." I chuckled to hide my disappointment (and embarrassment) at being turned down in front of everyone. My pride started talking. "We have three months to eat together. Wow, that's like a century for two people who can't stand being with each other."

"I'd rather say, an eternity," she corrected bitingly, her chin lifted. "Goodbye, Mr. Stavrakos."

"Let's call each other by our first names. It's more appropriate now that we're dating."

"Okay." Her mouth twisted in the corner. "Goodbye then."

I waited for her to say my name, but to my disappointment, she didn't. When she strode out of my office, I waited for her to turn around one last time and look at me. Women always did. It showed their attraction to me.

But, to my disappointment, Sweet Treble never did.

***

"What's going on?" Mom strode inside my office later that day without warning. She was wearing an all-black outfit, a colorful scarf around her neck, and was holding a Birkin bag.

I dropped the dating agreement with Sweet that I had been holding for the past ten minutes, staring blankly and thinking about how soft Sweet's hand had been when we shook hands earlier.

"What do you mean?" I leaned my back against the chair.

"They informed me that Sweet Treble was here in your office. What was her reason for coming to see you?"

Anything that happened in my office didn't escape Mom's ears. She had sources who would report to her as fast as a news flash. That was why I was cautious about letting anyone come here, especially women.

"She came to interview me."

I watched her expression. She had acted so coldly towards me since Sweet exposed me on Live TV.

"Good to know that you've finally come to terms with her." She smirked, putting her bag on my desk. With animated grace, she settled in the chair—the same one that Sweet occupied earlier.

Lately, all Mom did was scold me like a child. She kept on reminding me of my not so appealing behavior that mostly happened years ago—heavy partying and drinking, hanging out with notorious rich kids, hooking up with different girls, engaging in extreme sports. Things that any normal bachelor did.