Billionaire Flawed 2(218)

“I’m in,” she said as she answered.

“Great, I’ll pick you up tomorrow around six.”

Dana hung up and couldn’t hide a smile from spreading across her lips.

She closed The Treasure Chest early the next day and hurried home so she could shower and dress. She once again wasn’t sure of how to dress, but she figured for a drive to New York City she should be comfortable, so she settled on shorts and a loose shirt that was low cut enough to show off some cleavage.

Greg picked Dana up in the same cherry red sports car, but once he was on the highway, he headed away from New York.

“Where are we going?” Dana asked.

“I hate driving into the city,” Greg answered cryptically though it didn’t take long for Dana to discover his meaning. He pulled off of the highway, and ten minutes later, he was parking in the small lot of a tiny airport. On a nearby black top tarmac, there was a helicopter, the pilot inside already, and the rotor blades beginning to turn.

Dana had never been on a helicopter before, but her nerves were overpowered by a sense of excitement and adventure, and soon she was hundreds of feet in the air, the ground a blur as it slipped song below them.

As interesting as the ride was, nothing could have prepared the young woman for landing on the roof of a massive skyscraper. She was led inside, and to a penthouse apartment, where they dined and then made love.

The weekend was a blast, Greg only disappearing for his meeting on Saturday morning. They saw the sights for the rest of the day and then retired to the penthouse for more food, wine, and sex. Sunday they planned to go to a local museum, but they never managed to leave the bed. They returned to Apple Tree early Monday morning, and after being dropped off once more at her apartment, Dana hurried to open the shop.

Bad news was waiting for her. She was behind on her bills for the shop, and the bliss she had felt that weekend was quickly washed away. She called up a realtor. She would have to sell the place.

Greg remained in her life, calling her that evening. As the weeks wore on, she met him more and more, and they fell into what could only be called a relationship. She never bothered the rich man with her problem; she didn’t want to borrow money from him. She would never want such a powerful man to have that much power over her. She was enjoying their relationship, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for anything more than the dates and the screwing.

He was rich, and it opened Dana to a world that she could have never imagined she would ever be a part of. The extravagance, the seemingly wasted money. Dana often teased the older man on what she would do with so much money. “I would give most of it to charity,” she said from bed one evening.”

“Which charity?” Greg asked, a smirk upon his face.

“A lot of charities,” she said, and he had laughed and nodded.

The problem with the sex shop seemed to be resolved in a better way than Dana could have hoped for, a month after she put it up for sale. Someone had purchased it, apparently a businessman from across the country. He wanted to keep the business open, and wanted her to run it. The only real difference, other than the fact that she didn’t own The Treasure Chest anymore, was that she was now drawing an actual salary.

“Did you buy my shop?” Dana asked Greg over dinner one night. They were back in New York city, having flown in on Saturday, and planning on staying until Sunday night.

“What?” Greg asked, looking at her. He had found out about her problems a week before the shop was bought. She had been stressed out on one of their dates, and after a couple of glasses of wine, he had gotten the whole story out of her. He had promised her not to get involved, however.

“A man named Mr. White bought the shop. Some mysterious business man from California. Wants me to run the place. Was it you?”

“My name isn’t Mr. White,” Greg said, smiling and cracking a joke.

“I know it isn’t, but I haven’t met him or anything, he’s just some mysterious rich man who wants my business?”

“Sex sells.”

“Not that sex. The internet is killing me. He won’t make money.”

“He must think he will, eventually.”

“Did you buy it? I don’t want your help.”

“I know,” Greg said. “It wasn’t me.”

“You promise?””

“Yes.”

“Alright,” Dana said, and she smiled across the table at her lover. “What are we doing tonight.”

Greg smiled. “I have a surprise for you actually.”

After dinner, they returned to his penthouse, the massive open space in the skyscraper they had landed on once more after flying into the city. Greg led the way out of the elevator, heading down a long hall to the only door there. He unlocked it with a keycard, as he did each time they visited the room. Flickering light met Dana as she stepped inside; there were, at least, a hundred lit candles in the open living room, and more leading back towards the far corner of the massive apartment, where a king sized bed sat under a long window with an impressive view of the city.