A Wife for the Billionaire
Chapter 102: RICHARD

Chapter 102: RICHARD

The word I used wasn’t just rare, it had been intentional. I hadn’t wanted her to know that I was wasted when I sent that text. In an attempt to confuse her the more, I listed other barely used thesaurus of drunk.

"Bung fu, adrip, bombed, flooey, corned, razzled, they all fucking mean the same thing, so do you get the idea now?"

I hadn’t expected her to get the idea through those words, but Sofia has been nothing short of surprising since I met her.

"So you’re telling me that you sent such a text by 11pm because you were drunk? How typical" she surmised.

Rolling my chair to its normal position, I regrettably agreed,

"As much as I hate to acknowledge it, but that pretty much sums it"

"Hmmm,"she mused, cupping her jaw like someone in deep thoughts, "be that as it may, people are usually more truthful when intoxicated, so yeah, it’s either you tell me the truth or we can keep this shit going"

"Bitch" I muttered under my breath.

"What was that? She asked, "don’t tell me you talk to your lapels now"

She was enjoying this immensely. It was clear in her face, her eyes once dull held more lustre, her lips, quirked in a smile and her stance asserted more confidence.

She might take pleasure in vexing me, but I won’t give her the satisfaction of staying that way for long.

So I laced,

"At least, I can own up to my mistakes, but what about you? What would you say that prompted you to dress like a slut to an official appointment, was it weed or wait a minute, are you high?"

Her smile died away as she clicked her tongue, outraged. I had done it, turned the tables.

"This," she said, pointing to her outfit, "was not by choice"

"Oh really," I crooned, leaning forward, "so you want me to believe that you were coerced into wearing that, but I have to ask, was it by someone or certain objects of intoxication?"

It felt wonderful seeing her glower and lour. And keeping her in her own lane. Her expression felt like she could rip me to shreds.

"That’s why I hate your kind, you are always quick..."

"My kind?" I repeated, amused.

"Privileged pricks," she offered in explanation, "you are always quick to dismiss the sufferings of others as a joke. A trivial matter, and that is the height of your insolence"

"What the hell was she talking about?" I thought to myself. How was it that when she vexed me, it was rational, but when I do the same thing to her, it’s wrong. Like what the hell?

Relaxing in my chair, I waved off her words and broached the main topic,

"So, tell me, have you made a decision yet and what’s your answer?"

She tsked. Not at all happy with my switch. But what did she expect, I wasn’t really insulting her, all I did was make an attempt at a joke. It’s not my fault if the bitch took it serious and apparently she wasn’t letting go,

"Why did you do that?" She asked.

"Do what exactly?" I asked, more irritated than perplexed.

"Dismiss my words like they are of little consequence, like I don’t matter" she replied, not meeting my gaze. Almost as if she regretted saying that.

Making an effort at clearing the air, because I needed this to end with a mutual understanding, I said,

"I just thought you wanted this to be over as soon as possible, and before you lie, it’s clear in your mannerisms, why else would you not want to sit down?"

"You are right," she strangely concurred, "I want this to be over as quickly as possible, so yes, I have made a decision and my answer is no"

I would be lying if I said that I didn’t expect that answer. But I know her, she’s desperate or was desperate, so what changed?

"Why?" I dared ask.

She kept mute for some seconds, as if pondering how best to answer or perhaps not answering at all. Until she replied,

"I can’t take the job, because I’m not cruel enough to pull the rug from under a man who has been nothing but kind to me ever since our paths crossed. I just can’t do that"

So this was about Cole Trail, the blond I

hired two days ago. He was not even her type, so what is she doing?

"I never saw you as one of the good ones, at least not one to pass up such a once in a lifetime opportunity especially for a boy. A boy who only showered you with something as slight as kindness" I laced, angry that she was willing to throw this away for a boy.

"You will never understand" was all she offered in her defense, and to be honest, I hated that answer.

"Oh I understand just fine," I stated, not bothering to hide the bass my voice had taken, "let me guess, you are not used to kindness and because a boy showers you with a token, it becomes everything to you"

"Here we go again," she exasperated, "you think you know me. That you understand what my life is like, but I’ll have you know that I didn’t just turn down this job for him. I did it also for me, because I’ve decided to succumb to my fate, it was no use fighting in the first place. How foolish of me to think I even had a fighting chance"

That wasn’t how I expected that to go. She had started strong and suddenly switched to vulnerability, something I never thought she would ever do.

I had a feeling she was no longer talking about the job, and for her to reveal such detail meant that she was kinda screwed and I didn’t want to make things worse, but don’t get it twisted. I was doing it for me, not her. I don’t care one bit about her pathetic life.

"What happens to your dreams, or have you forgotten about them already?" I asked, softly.

For a moment, her eyes glazed with tears, and in spite of my resolve against pity, that sight disturbed me. But before I could ponder what I said or why she had almost been on the brink of crying, she sniffed back her tears and said,

"Those dreams don’t matter anymore, and whether or not I take this job, it won’t matter. Like someone said, ’dreams are for those who can actually actualize it, not for someone like me’"

I found myself leaning forward again, who was this girl and what had she done to the Sofia Blake, I know. I stared at this stranger, and she stared back. More like simply looked back, clearly she was faking the defiance. Trying to be strong when it’s crystal, that she’s a mess.

"It sounds like you don’t have a choice" I surmised.

"I don’t suppose you know what that

feels like, to have yourself stripped of the right to decide your own fate, to make your decision and chart your own course" She said, her voice laced with melancholy.

She had no idea that I understood perfectly because my life was just as choiceless.

And even though I knew she was not playing games, I still found it hard to allow myself be vulnerable before her, so not meeting her gaze, I offered,

"As much as I hate to say this, but I actually relate to what you are saying, you might not believe it, but my life now is just as choiceless as you described and I think we might help each other change that"

"Change that," she iterated, "did I hear you wrong?"

I had chuckled at her tone of disbelief, and honestly I didn’t blame her. She didn’t trust me and I didn’t trust her, no matter how vulnerable she seemed.

If anything it proved that she was qualified for the position that I was going to offer her. She wasn’t big into trust, just as I wasn’t and if there’s anything I have coined from life is that, less trust goes a long way.

People can be backstabbing motherfuckers, and anyone who wishes to make it has to always watch his/her back, no matter how genuine or safe it seems.

But truly, those who are privy to hurting others by breaking their trust, don’t they always appear genuine and get the victim to think he/she is safe with their lying, scheming asses?

Anyway, as much as I rather be the

backstabber than having my back stabbed, I rarely broke people’s trust in me. No matter how undeserving they were.

"Take a seat, let me enlighten you" I offered, gesturing to the pair of leather chairs before me.

She remained where she stood, not taking a step. In fact, she didn’t move at all. Almost as if she didn’t hear me. Which confirmed that she still didn’t trust my gesture, or maybe it’s that pride of hers.

"Just sit," I repeated, "I don’t bite and it’s no games, we may not have known each other for long, but you can trust me when I say something for I’m a man of my word."

I watched her eye the chairs, bite her lip as if pondering my offer, then she squared her shoulders and came to sit.