Mr. Garnet: A Mr. Billionaire Short Story Read online

  “You did. And now your flower is about to solve some of your financial problems.”

  I lunge for her, shaking her by the shoulders. “Can you stop kidding around for once? This is crazy. I don’t even think I can cancel an auction listing.”

  “Then you have no choice, babe. You have to deliver the goods to the highest bidder.”

  It’s midnight, two days after the auction ended. The room is dark and I’m staring at the light blue screen of my laptop, my stomach still clenched with nerves.

  I’ve tried everything to cancel the transaction, but nothing worked. I even contacted the highest bidder, who goes by the screen name of Mr. Garnet. I gathered up the courage to send him an email last night and now I’m looking at his response.

  No way.

  Regards,

  Mr. Garnet

  I first read his response an hour ago, and I’m still reeling. What kind of sick person is he to buy someone’s virginity? On the other hand, he must have thought I was sick too, when he stumbled upon my listing.

  I slam my laptop shut and dig for my phone under the pillow. It’s late, but I need to speak to someone. Since only Samantha knows, I call her.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t stop me from doing it,” I say as soon as she picks up. I’m pissed at her for telling me the story of the woman who sold her virginity, and also for letting me go through with it.

  “I’m sorry, Dixie,” she says warily. “I was not thinking straight that night. I also didn’t really think someone would bid.”

  Three people had actually bid on the listing.

  “Yeah, me too.” I push my laptop to the other side of my bed and lie down, knees drawn to my chest. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have drunk to the point of not knowing what I was doing. It was stupid.”

  “Don’t blame yourself, darling. And I’m sorry if I acted like a bitch the other day. I won’t stand in your way if you decide to end the transaction.”

  “Thanks, but I can’t. That Mr. Garnet guy wrote back. Two words. No way.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yep.” My stomach churns with anxiety. “I really don’t know what to do now.”

  Samantha says nothing, but I can hear her chewing softly. She always has a piece of gum in her mouth, but even at midnight? “I’m sorry, honey, but if you can’t get out of it, maybe you should, you know, make the most of it.” She lowers her voice. “The money could really help you out. You could pay off some of your student loans. And if you don’t want it, you could always give it to me to pay off mine.”

  “If I sleep with this guy, wouldn’t that make me a prostitute?” I squeeze my eyes shut. My mind takes me back to a time in high school when one of the mean girls had told me that Dixie is the kind of name a prostitute would choose. That hit me to the core because I had always disliked my name, the only thing my birth mother left me.

  “You’re not a prostitute. You’re too innocent to be one. You could always pretend it’s a one-night stand with huge benefits. People have one-night stands with strangers all the time.”

  “You’re nuts.” I find myself laughing in spite of everything.

  “I know. And I really wish I could get you out of this mess, but I don’t know how.”

  “Look, I better go. I have a lot to think about.”

  “Let me know what you decide. I’m here for you even if you decide to escape to another country with the goods intact.”

  “The goods? Okay, I better get off this call before you say another crazy thing.”

  After we hang up, I reach for a grocery store receipt on my nightstand and a pen. Then I make a list of everything I could use the money for.

  Pay for Mrs. Briggs’s eye surgery

  Pay off student loans

  Starting capital for business

  When I get to number three, I realize with panic that I don’t even know what the guy looks like. Before I can stop myself, I pick up my laptop to respond to his message.

  I need to see a photo.

  “What’s on your mind, dear?” Mrs. Briggs asks when I serve her the cabbage soup I just prepared.

  I shake my head and put on a smile. “It’s nothing. I hope you’ll enjoy the soup.”

  She lifts her spoon. “You know I always do.”

  I toss my braid over my shoulder. “Is there anything else you want me to do for you before I go?”

  It’s 6:00 p.m. and I spent most of the day at her place, cleaning, washing, and just keeping her company. Every time I visit, she tells me stories about her daughter, stories she had told me hundreds of times.

  “You’ve done more than enough, Rosie,” she says without even glancing up.

  She does that sometimes, calling me by her daughter’s name. Sometimes I worry she might be suffering from Alzheimer’s. But since it only happens once or twice a month, maybe it’s just a slip of the tongue.

  I never correct her. The last thing I need is for her to start worrying. If it starts to happen more often, I’ll bring it up.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I put the lid back on the pot.

  “Will you be accompanying me to church tomorrow?”

  I clear my throat. “I don’t think I can. I’m sorry. I have a lot of job applications to fill out.”

  It’s a lie and I feel terrible about it. But I can’t go with her to church, not when I’m considering doing something God might not approve of.

  As I kiss Mrs. Briggs on the cheek, I can’t help wondering what she would think about the whole idea of me selling my virginity.

  Am I even still considering it or have I already made up my mind?

  “Maybe next time.” Mrs. Briggs gives me a smile. “Make sure to lock your doors.”

  Three weeks ago, someone broke into our apartment building. Since then, she has been telling me to be careful.

  “Don’t worry, I will.” I hoist my handbag onto my shoulder and walk out of her apartment.

  Less than two minutes later, I’m sitting at my small dining table, a mug of hot chocolate in front of me, staring at the piece of paper that proves that no man has ever slept with me.

  The fact that I had a doctor provide me with that proof terrifies me. It means I might actually be doing this.

  At first, I was offended that Mr. Garnet would want proof that I’m really a virgin, but after thinking about it, I do get him. After all, he’s paying a lot of money for my virginity. He would want to know if I’m telling the truth. What would stop any woman from going out there and claiming she’s a virgin?

  Still staring at the paper, I finish my hot chocolate and call Samantha.

  “It’s done,” I say, my stomach in knots.

  “What’s done? You slept with him already?”

  I shake my head. “No, silly. I went to the doctor yesterday and got the proof the guy wants.”

  There’s silence on the other end. When Samantha speaks again, her voice is serious. “You’re really going through with this, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know. I think so.” I lay a hand on my forehead. “You were right, it is a lot of money.” As disgusted as I feel with myself right now, I have a feeling I might regret not going for it. I could do a lot of good with the money, maybe donate a portion of it to the orphanage that used to be my home, where I still help out once or twice a month.

  “I know I kind of pushed you into this, but I feel a little guilty now.”

  “It wasn’t you who put up the listing on Bidders, Sam. Even though I was drunk, I did it.” I’m an adult and I’ll take responsibility for my actions.

  “Well, I guess it helps that the guy is a hot billionaire.”

  “But what if he sent me a fake photo?”

  “It would be stupid of him to send you a photo of someone who’s well-known.”

  Mr. Garnet isn’t just anyone. As soon as I had shown Samantha his photo, she instantly recognized him as the founder of the Garnet Jewelry Group. It totally freaked me out to think someone that wealthy and good
looking would want to sleep with me. I stared at his photo for hours, unable to peel my gaze from his captivating blue eyes, full lips, and aquiline nose.

  “You’re right,” I say. “He would be stupid to do that.”

  “Anyway, it’s kind of a good thing that we know who he is. If he does anything to hurt you, we’ll sue him for so much more than $300k. And I would personally drag his name through the mud.” Samantha pauses. “Have you sent him the results yet?”

  “I almost did today, but I chickened out. I guess I should, right?” I chew a corner of my nail.

  “Darling, if it would make you feel less scared, I can come with you the first time you meet him, just to make sure he’s who he says he is, and not some weirdo.”

  “What do you mean you’ll come with me?”

  “You could ask him to meet you for dinner or something and I’ll book a table in the same restaurant.”

  “Sam, he’s a billionaire. What if he takes me to a restaurant where a glass of wine costs more than someone’s weekly salary?”

  “Then I’ll order water. Or I’ll just go ahead and order myself a glass of wine. You can always pay me back once you get the cash.” She laughs.

  “You’d really come with me?”

  “I’m partly to blame for all this. So, yeah.”

  “What if he wants to meet in a hotel?” I feel sick to my stomach at the thought that he might want to sleep with me soon after we meet. “You know what, I don’t want to get you in any kind of trouble. Don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

  “Fine. Just make sure to charge your phone so I can reach you. And call me immediately if something’s not right.”

  “I promise.” Oh, God. I have made a decision.

  CLYDE

  The moment she walks through the glass doors of the restaurant, I hang up on my mother.

  She’ll be furious when I speak to her later. There’s nothing she hates more than someone hanging up on her.

  But she had refused to get off the phone, busy pressuring me to get married and settle down in Misty Cove. She also wanted to know when I’ll be returning home.

  Dixie2017— her profile name on Bidders—is even more stunning in real life. Watching her look nervously around the restaurant, her hand stroking her thick braid, I feel a tightness in my pants that gets more uncomfortable the closer she comes to my table, her curves swaying gently from side to side.

  I wanted to take her straight to my condo, so we could complete our transaction, but she had insisted that we need to talk first before anything happens.

  It’s not such a bad idea since I need to see the written proof of her virginity. But to tell the truth, right now I don’t give a damn about proof. I would fuck her without it.

  “Mr. Garnet?” she asks, coming to stand at the table.

  “That’s me.” Like a perfect gentleman, I wave the waiter off and pull out a seat for her.

  As she moves past me, her black dress brushes against my skin and I catch a whiff of her fresh, lemon-scented perfume.

  A warm sensation I had never felt before spreads through my chest.

  When the waiter asks for our order, I ask for a bottle of champagne, my eyes never leaving her face. Tonight, we have something to celebrate.

  She says she won’t have anything to eat, so I pretend not to be hungry either. I won’t be able to keep anything down anyway, not in her presence.

  “Why did you do it?” she asks when the waiter walks away. Her voice is as sweet as strawberries dipped in chocolate. She’s pretending to be confident, but I can see right through her.

  “What do you mean?” I raise an eyebrow.

  “Why would you pay so much money for someone to...” She lowers her gaze, but it’s too late. I’ve already seen the discomfort in her gray eyes. They remind me of a cloudy sky.

  “For someone to fuck?” I ask with a smirk.

  “Yes,” she says below a whisper. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes wide and innocent. She doesn’t look like the kind of girl who would want to sell her virginity online.

  “Because I was intrigued.” That night, I had planned to have some fun with one of Allan’s girls, but she was late. To kill the time, I had gone on Bidders to check out a fake product my assistant mentioned was being sold under our name for a ridiculously high price. I have no idea how I stumbled upon Dixie2017’s listing, but there it was. After seeing the photos of her in her teal bikini, I couldn’t help myself.

  I lean back in my chair. “How about you? Why would you sell yourself online?”

  The waiter returns before she can respond. From the look on her face, she’s relieved to be given a moment to think about what to say.

  After the waiter leaves, I offer her a glass of champagne but she shakes her head.

  “Alcohol is the reason I’m here right now.”

  “You did it because you were drunk?”

  “Yep.” She twists her braid around her hand. “It was a stupid, drunken mistake, and as you know, I did try to get out of it.”

  “I’m a businessman,” I say, pouring her a glass of sparkling water. “And I’m damn hard to get out of a deal with.” I raise my own glass and take a swig. “Do you have it?”

  She reaches into her purse and hands me the piece of paper. We understand each other even without words. I just know that we’ll be great in bed together. That innocent look she has on right now will be gone by the time I’m done with her. It will be a one-night-only thing, but she’ll remember me for the rest of her life.

  I glance down at the paper, but I’m no longer interested in what it says. The only thing that stands out for me is her real name. Usually, I don’t care to know the names of women I sleep with, but I find myself curious to know everything about this one.

  “Satisfied?” she asks, chewing her nail. She must have been doing a lot of that lately because they’re pretty short.

  “Dixie Munro is your name?”

  “That’s me.” She bites into her bottom lip and I almost go insane with desire. “I also know who you are, Mr. Clyde Garnet. But I still don’t understand why you would want to pay someone to sleep with you. I’m pretty sure there are all kinds of women throwing themselves at you.”

  “You did your research, huh?” I eye her over my glass of champagne.

  “I needed to make sure I’m not meeting up with some weirdo.”

  I chuckle, then glance at a nearby waiter. “Come on, Dixie, I’m hungry. Let’s get some food before we continue this discussion.”

  This time, she doesn’t say no. I can be quite convincing that way.

  During most of the time our food is being prepared, she’s in the ladies’ room, probably calling a friend. I get that she’s uncomfortable, so I don’t feel offended. It’s not long after she returns that our dinner is served.

  “So, what do you want from me now?” she asks, piercing her green salad.

  “Aside from the obvious, you mean?” I lean forward. “I only have one rule, Dixie Munro. I want you to enjoy what we’re going to do as much as I will.”

  From the way her eyes dilate and the color in her cheeks deepens, I know I’ve entered her panties without lifting a finger. She raises her glass of water to her lips and takes a long sip. “Anything else?”

  “Only one more thing,” I say. “I’ll give you the address to my place and I want you to be there tomorrow at 8:00 p.m. You will wear nothing but a black trench coat and red stilettos. I also want you to wear your hair loose.” I could arrange for her to be picked up, but I want to respect her privacy. I don’t need to know where she leaves. After tomorrow, she’ll just be someone I once slept with.

  When she takes a drink this time, she almost chokes. “Are you serious?”

  “I am,” I say with the tiniest of smiles. “Would that be a problem?”

  She’s silent for far too long, and then she exhales. “No, no, it won’t be a problem.”

  After dinner, Dixie is surprised when I hand her a couple of
hundred dollars. At first, she refuses to take the money for doing nothing, but I insist.

  “This is for your time tonight and a little extra to pay for the trench coat and shoes.”

  When Dixie arrives at my condo in a trench coat and killer stilettos, I’m ready for her.

  When I take her to my bedroom, she comes to a screeching halt in the doorway.

  “Wow,” she says, glancing at the dancing flames of the nine-foot-long fireplace, the roses my housekeeper left around the room, and the bucket of champagne. Then she peers at the large windows that cover most of the walls. “This is beautiful. You put in so much effort.” She clearly didn’t expect romance. Maybe she’d thought as soon as she entered my home, I’d fuck her against the door and send her back home.

  “Just because I’m paying for tonight doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy your first time.” I don’t allow the women I sleep with to remain in my life, but when they’re with me, I treat them well.

  I close the distance between Dixie and I and cup her chin with my hand, tilting her face upward so she can look into my eyes, to see the hunger I feel for her.

  “Are you going to kiss me?” she asks in a choked whisper.

  “Would you like me to kiss you?” I lower my head until I feel her warm breath on my face. She ate something minty.

  “I...I don’t know.” She bites the corner of her lip. “I don’t know the rules.”

  “You do.” I move my lips closer to hers until I almost kiss her, but not quite. “Remember what I said at the restaurant? When this evening is over, I want you to walk away from our arrangement with more than just money. I want you to enjoy every moment.” I swallow hard as the pressure inside my pants becomes unbearable. I wish I could just turn her around right now, bend her over and fuck her until she forgets her name. But it’s her first time. This is a night she will remember for the rest of her life. “Do you want me to kiss you?” While my other fingers tighten just a little more around her chin, my thumb strokes the side of her cheek.