The Boss's Proposal (Billionaire Bad Boy BBW Romance)(12)

"Oh, I prefer gin." Aisha responded and quickly climbed the stairs. Upon  reaching the top, she saw four doors to the right and two to the left.  They all looked pretty much alike, made of oak, with golden doorknobs on  the side, except the first door to the left. It had no knob on it. In  fact, Aisha could not see any kind of lock on that particular door.  Curious to see for herself what Sam meant by "fancy dresses", Aisha  opened the second door to the right and pressed the light switch on the  left hand side of the wall.

"Oh, my God … " She murmured when she got in. Each side of the room was  filled with all kinds of dresses, on separate hangers. Her attention was  drawn to the first dress on the left. It was a beautiful, peach silk  georgette dress with sparkling rhinestone accent, featuring a removable  fabric flower and contoured hem with ruffle detail. The dress was fully  lined and had a side zipper, on the right.

"I think I've died and gone to heaven … " Aisha checked for matching shoes  in the tall shoe case further down the room, to the right. At the  bottom, to the left, she found a pair of light pink, mare fabric dress  pumps.

"Bingo … " The shoes were her size. She picked them up and heard someone  knocking on the door. She opened it and saw no one. There was a silver  tray on the floor, with a bottle of gin and a tall glass in it.

"Damn, that guy looks so gorgeous … " Aisha said to herself, before she  downed her drink like a cowboy. It had already been a long night and she  had no idea what to expect. She tried to forget the incident on the  beach and focus on Sam. There was something different about him. He was a  bit too cocky and did not show any understanding, but his manly looks  and his deep voice had won her over. Even though Aisha was a beautiful  woman, she had not had been in a relationship for more than six months  and she missed being with a man. As a barmaid, she had met a few  interesting guys, but no relationship lasted more than a few weeks.

"They all run like hell when things start to get a little too serious … "  She used to say to her good friend, Ava. Of course, Aisha was right, at  least to an extent. Men will not commit easily, much to her frustration.

Lost in her thoughts, Aisha changed clothes and had another two drinks  of gin, before she stood in front of the body size mirror to the left.  She looked wonderful in that outfit; her black, smooth skin seemed to  glow in the pale light. The dress was tight on the chest, accentuating  her cleavage and a little loose around the waist. Perfect for her  athletic figure. The shoes emphasized her long, slender legs. She ran  her fingertips across her curly hair and struck a pose. Then, she  overheard two men climbing the stairs. One of them was Sam. The other  voice belonged to someone much older than him. Aisha could tell by his  tone: It was way too hoarse. She hastily put the glass and the bottle  down, back on the tray, anticipating a knock on the door. The muttering  outside stopped, briefly. A sound of a power door sliding open filled  her ears.

"That must be the door I saw earlier … " Aisha felt a little dizzy; for a  moment, she thought the room was spinning. She would only drink alcohol  on special occasions. Had she been drinking every night, she would have  ended up in "Alcoholics Anonymous". That is probably the reason why she  felt slightly intoxicated. It was not every day she had three drinks of  gin in a matter of a few minutes.

She straightened her dress and tried to snap out of it. Right after  that, she heard someone approaching the door, in a slow, relaxed manner.  There was only one man she had met that night who walked like that:  Sam.

"Sweetheart, may I come in?"

"Yeah, come on in."

Sam opened the door. The young athlete he had saved earlier had turned into a gorgeous woman, feminine, classy and dashing.

"Wow …  Just wow." He mouthed silently to her and clapped his hands three times.

"Are you sure you're not a model?"

"Smooth talker. I like that … "

Aisha gave him a broad smile, for a first time that night. Before they  left the room, he closed the door behind him and went closer to her. He  then took her right hand in his palms and tried to refresh her memory.

"Ok, do you remember what I told you outside? That prick's in my study. I  gotta make a good impression and I need you by my side. Are you sure  you can handle this?"

Aisha wasted no time in answering his question.

"Hell, yeah … " She chirped. Sam paused for a few seconds and stared at  her from top to bottom. A crooked smile formed on his face. It was more  than obvious to Aisha that he had something in mind, but he would not  share it with her.







"Alright, let's do this … " Sam's commanding tone returned, as he led  Aisha towards the room across the hall. He had left the power door open.  There was an elderly man in Sam's spacious study. He was almost  completely bald and only had some white hair on his temples. In a navy  blue suit, carefully reading a newspaper in front of him. He had sat in a  black, leather armchair to the left of Sam's, white, wooden desk. The  room was filled with posters of sports cars. Right above Sam's executive  armchair, the picture of a red Ferrari 458 Italia. To the right, more  posters of several other cars: Lamborghinis, McLaren's, Zondas and  Porsches.

"Man, this place is oozing with testosterone." Aisha's mind was filled  with every possible word to characterize a macho man like Sam.  Nevertheless, she had a job to do and did not want to ruin everything  her savior had prepared.

As soon as they entered Sam's study, the old man literally popped out of  his luxurious armchair and looked at Aisha, right into her eyes. His  jaw dropped; Aisha had drawn his attention.

"There she is! Damn, Sammie you got a great taste!" He groaned hoarsely  and opened his arms for a big hug. He was much shorter than Sam. A lot  less than 6ft, nearly as tall as Aisha, not counting her heels.

"You never mentioned she was black, but hell, she looks so fine, Sammie.  Name's Jack Martelle, dear. I am the president of 'People's Bank', New  York. Nice to meet you." The young woman would be a lot more embarrassed  if it had not been for the alcohol. She smiled at him and offered her  right hand politely for a handshake.

"My name is Aisha Wilson. Nice to meet you, Mr. Martelle."

Meanwhile, Sam stood behind her, watching Jack's every reaction. Taking a  cleansing breath, he sat back in his executive chair, while Aisha sat  in the large, black, leather couch across his desk and crossed her legs.  Jack would not take his eyes off of her, though.

"Hmm … " Sam cleared his throat.

"Now, Jack …  Where were we?" The banker turned his head to the left and faced Sam.

"Oh, yeah. You need to understand, Sammie. You got yourself a great  piece of software; I'll give you that. But, who's to say that it can't  be …  What you call it?" Jack paused, looked up at the ceiling and put his  right index finger on the edge of his forehead.

"Hacked?" Aisha interjected. Jack looked back at her and opened his eyes wide in disbelief.

"Right!" His voice got louder.

"Ass and brains!" He added. Aisha got a little shocked at his crude  remark, but smiled at him. Sam, on the other hand, started laughing  hard.

"Good one, Jack. But, let's just stick to business."

"I am talking about business, Sammie. Can you guarantee your software is hack-proof?"

"Sir? If I may answer … ?" Aisha raised her hand, like a young schoolgirl in class.

"Sure, go ahead." Jack urged her. Then, Aisha arose slowly from her seat.

"Well, I don't think any antivirus or Internet security developer can  guarantee total security. It's just a risk everyone has to take. Has  anyone ever promised you -- in writing  –  that his software is  hack-proof? I don't think so. There's an unwritten law in computer  science: Everything can be hacked. It's just a matter of will, skill and  time. Isn't it?" Aisha kept walking up and down the room as she spoke  to the elderly banker. Her relaxed tone seemed to convince Jack. After  all, she did have a point. Jack's initial surprise had turned into sheer  admiration. Even Sam kept staring at her, unable to believe his ears.  None of them expected her to know anything about computers, let alone  security software.

"Sammie, remind me to send you a big ass present on your wedding day.  You make sure you marry this girl. If you don't, I'm gonna smack some  sense into you."

Once again, Sam chuckled, in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. Aisha  would not just sit back in the couch, though. Instead, she noticed the  empty armchair across the aging figure and decided to seal the deal, in a  way only women can.

"Thank you for the nice comments, Mr. Martelle. I am right … " Aisha sat  in the chair and paused for a moment, before she crossed her long,  luscious legs.

"Aren't I?" She finished her sentence. Of course, the old banker could  only stare at her amazing figure. With her left, almost fully exposed,  left leg on her right and gently rocking the armchair back and forth,  Aisha even leaned slightly forward, offering him a good chance to stare  at her cleavage. Men loved her perky, full C cups.