The Grey Billionaire

DANIEL

Miller Park was usually quiet on a Sunday morning. At six o’clock in the morning, morning dew was still on the grass, ducks swam across the pond, and the sun hid gracefully behind the skyscrapers and trees. For the past three years, Daniel would run his laps there alone every week, and today was no different.

It’s not easy doing twelve laps in one hour without getting tired, so he made sure to never fall off schedule. He listened to rock bands and metal bands on his iPhone—anything loud and upbeat enough to keep up with the fast-paced movement of his body, and block painful memories from his mind. But occasionally, he would have visions of his mom in a hospital bed.

After his laps, Daniel would sit alone and watch the sunrise before heading to Maker’s Café for a green smoothie and toasted bagel. The tropical café, located in the heart of Ocean Drive, was known for its nightlife, Caribbean cuisine, and island-inspired drinks. But as the ultimate billionaire bad boy of Miami, it would surprise no one that Daniel had access to it during closed hours.

His father spoiled him growing up, and now that he had made a name for himself, Daniel continued to treat himself to something exclusive every now and then: women, cars, trips, and other luxuries ordinary people could only dream of. Eating breakfast alone on a Sunday morning while reading the paper was a mundane activity, but he enjoyed it and looked forward to it every week.

Daniel never looked up as he ordered his usual clean green smoothie; he simply read the Miami Times from the comfort of his smartphone and ignored the atmosphere around him. A phone call with Josh had started and ended, and he still hadn’t raised his head.

Yet no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, Daniel felt as though he was being watched. His scalp prickled, and the short hairs at the back of his head stood at attention.

“Can I get anything else for you?” a soft voice asked.

The alluring voice sounded as satisfying as unwrapping a gift as a child on Christmas morning. It sent some unknown warmth to an area of his chest that’d been long frozen and forgotten, and it forced him to look up.

The disappointment Daniel felt when he saw the voice’s owner showed on his face. “Ew,” he muttered before forcing a smile and scanning her in silence.

The girl who served him was far from glamorous. Around 5’6” with an average body type—somewhere in between skinny and curvy—she was no model. She wore no makeup, and she didn’t have that come hither look the rest of the women he encountered had. He guessed that she was in her early twenties.

The waitress was dressed simply in black slacks, a plain T-shirt with a few faint stains on the collar, and an apron wrapped around her waist. Her auburn hair tumbled lifelessly over her shoulders. It was only her piercing blue eyes that gave her plain face some personality.

Daniel’s usual habit was to flirt with all the women he found attractive, but this girl was just too plain. Too lifeless. Too…innocent looking. She reminded him of Elizabeth from some ~Pride and Prejudice~ adaptation, like she would run away screaming if he so much as breathed close to her, but he suspected that she might actually be stubborn and determined.

I’ve never chased, fucked, or even spoken to a girl like this.

But men are creatures of habit, and old habits die hard. Despite his subconscious saying ‘no,’ Daniel forced himself to ask flirtatiously, “What else do you want to give me?”

Christ, it sounded so wrong all of a sudden. He fought the urge to slap himself.

“I-I’m… I meant something…to…eat or drink. From the…from the menu,” she stuttered, pushing the printed menu across the counter to him.

The waitress continued to stare at Daniel with those big blue eyes. She hardly blinked, and he suddenly felt naked. Like she was seeing the man beneath the mask. Like she was stripping away all the bullshit.

Daniel jumped from the stool and took an immediate step back. His actions frightened her, but they also frightened him. What kind of soul fucking search was that?

He felt his body temperature rise as she continued to stare at him.

Time to be an asshole, Daniel.

”What are you doing tonight?” he asked hurriedly.

Of course, he didn’t find her attractive, but anything was better than standing there quietly allowing this girl to strip him of his barriers.

As he stood waiting for her to reply, an interesting idea popped into his head. Tonight’s the black-and-white party. Josh is always riding me about dating someone…different. Who is more different than this chick?

“I’m working here,” she responded softly.

“I know the owner. I can get you the night off.” As he said this, Daniel heard his conscience talking back to him for the first time in years.

Why the hell do I have to take her? She’s not my usual style. Plus, she dresses like she got her clothes from the Goodwill clearance rack. Her entire appearance screams poor and in need of help.

But I’m certain she wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to accompany me? I’m Daniel freaking Jackson. Everyone wants to be around me.

He was too confident to doubt himself now.

Daniel reached across the counter and took another sip of his green drink. One last gulp before attempting to pitch this deal.

“So, here’s the thing…” He paused to take a deep breath. “I need a date for a black-and-white fundraiser tonight.”

The waitress’s mouth dropped open.

“Sweetheart, before you freak out, just listen. I obviously don’t like you, and you don’t like me. I’ll pay for a new wardrobe, hair, nails, maybe even two months’ rent wherever it is that you live…whatever it takes.

“We don’t have to speak to each other, we definitely won’t kiss or have any kind of sexual contact, so there’s no need to view this as prostitution. It’s just one night to accompany me to the event so I can prove to my friend that I can tolerate a girl like you.”

She stared at him wide-eyed for a beat, then blinked. “What…what do you mean, ‘a girl like me’?”

Her voice was so soft. If Daniel closed his eyes and thought of nothing else, it would probably make him hard. He buried the thought as soon as it entered his mind.

Ignoring the burning in his chest, Daniel explained, “A girl that’s not exposed to certain lifestyles and luxuries. A girl who’s, you know…innocent. My best friend thinks I’m incapable of commitment and that I can be a bit shallow sometimes.”

“Are you?” she asked with her head down.

Daniel’s eyebrows furrowed. “Am I what?”

“Are you incapable of commitment?”

With her chipped nails, calloused hands, and chapped lips, the waitress’s voice should be as rough as a trucker’s. Those lips were so dry that Daniel couldn’t even tell if they were brown or pink. It was easy to assume she didn’t care about what anyone thought of her, but he wished she didn’t sound like a seductive cat.

“Yes,” he answered plainly.

The waitress raised her head to look at him again, and those eyes unleashed a new kind of torture. He was almost ready to change his previous answer.

Okay, fine. Yes. ~I’m capable of love and commitment, so stop fucking looking at me like that!~

Her silence made him uneasy.

Though she had a plain, natural face and average body, this girl wasn’t ugly. If he was being honest with himself, Daniel would admit she reminded him of his mother. Even her hair was the same damn sunset shade.

His mother was a naturally elegant woman, even with her illness. She was also humble—at home, at work, even leading up to her death. She never stopped looking like an innocent lamb who would never hurt a fly.

Daniel never went for that type of girl. Ever. They required a hero, and he was nobody’s Superman. Women like her would get attached. Clingy.

He hated girls who tried to reach him on an emotional level.

Daniel preferred women who came packaged like a shiny toy. Those with low expectations, who could better accept the temporary basis of his kind of relationship.

The waitress continued to stare at him, her piercing blue eyes seeking passage into his broken soul. Her lips moved, forming words, but he was too far away, deeply mesmerized by her long, dark lashes and demanding eyes.

What the fuck did she say?

His ears began to work again just in time to hear her ask, “Did you hear me?”

“I’m sorry—what?”

“Why do I have to change my wardrobe? Won’t that make me look like the girls you’re accustomed to?”

Daniel was shocked, but he tried to hide it. “Smart girl, and good point. I only suggested a new wardrobe because I assumed you wouldn’t have anything to wear to this sort of event. There’s going to be snobby rich folks and uptight housewives. I guess I wanted you to be comfortable and fit in.”

The waitress stared at the counter, seemingly lost in another world. What are you thinking? Daniel wondered. Against his better judgment, he reached out and touched her hand.

She swiftly pulled it away.

“Uh… I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.

Did she just pull away from me like I have a fucking disease?

Daniel decided to ignore the gesture. He unlocked his iPhone and slid it toward her.

“Put your full name and number in. Think about all I said, and I’ll give you a call at seven thirty p.m. to find out your answer. I have to go now.”

Any longer, and I’ll say something I don’t mean.

As the waitress slowly typed her number in, Daniel tried to read her. If he was honest, she didn’t seem interested in him at all.

Is she just agreeing because she’s bored? And why the hell did she pull her hand away like that? Women want to get close to me all the time. No one has ever pulled away before.

When she finished typing, the waitress slid the phone over to Daniel without a word. He looked at the screen.

“I like your name. I will call you later, Ms. Fox. Hopefully, you’ll say ‘yes’ to my proposal.”

Then he left.