HARLEM
There’s a knock on my door and I go to open it. Ezra Roth stands in front of my one room apartnt with sunglasses over his eyes. I rear back and my eyes go wide.
His brow pops us in questioning and he walks in. I didn’t realize the plan or the idea behind inviting a billionaire to my country and I sure as hell had no idea it would be this intrusive.
When I gave him my contact details yesterday after dinner, I thought it was just so we could et at the train station. I turn towards him and he seems to be assessing my house. I hurriedly close the door and stand in front of him.
I gesture to his sunglasses folding my arms and I see his lips curl up slightly before he takes off his sunglasses.
"Uhh, I thought we were going to et at the train station?" I tell him.
He pushes his hands into his pockets and I try hard to avoid the intense gaze of his beautiful green eyes. "No idea what you’re talking about."
I scoff "You know? Those fast, long vehicles that people use as a mode of transportation?"
"I have a jet, Harlem." The sound of my na on his tongue causing goosebumps to cascade over my skin.
"What does that have to do with ?" I ask incredulously, not exactly looking forward to his answer.
"You invited to this wedding and you want us to go on a ’train’?" he asks smirking.
"I an... maybe , but I wasn’t sure we would be going together." I say avoiding his teasing gaze.
"We’re going TOGETHER, Harlem. So, we’re going on my jet. Question answered?" he brushes past and walks over to where Bimmy is munching on a lettuce.
"So, what are you doing here?" I ask him as he pushes a finger through the cage and brushes Bimmy slightly. The betrayer nudges towards him, abandoning his snack. My brain cells are montarily distracted by his cologne mixing with the sandalwood scent of the air diffuser in my living room.
"My luggage is in the car. I’m here to pick you up." He says still brushing Bimmy.
"I could always drive myself to your... private jet." I say, blinking akwardly.
He stands up and walks back to , eyes slowly cascading over every inch of my body. "And why would I let you do that?" he whispers and walks to the direction of the kitchen.
My skin feels like it’s on fire and I’m sweating; even though the air conditioner is on. I bite my lip and thank God I’m wearing extrely baggy clothing; not exactly the right ti to greet a billionaire with my Strawberry shortcake two piece nightwear.
I trudge after him into the kitchen, wondering if he kept sothing there and is trying to retrieve it back, if not, then he has no business there. Not that I’m in the right state of mind to say that to him right now.
He swiftly looks around like a real estate agent and turns back out, almost bumping into . "Always wondered what your house looks like." He mutters.
I scoff "Maybe you can sit down? Like the VISITOR you are?" I ask and he turns to , a mischievous smirk adorning his painfully handso face.
"Ask and you shall receive." He states and takes a seat in front of the playing Television. I swiftly change the ani I was streaming and throw him the remote. Yeah, I seem to be VERY affected by his presence. I tuck my hands deeper into my sleeves nervously.
"How long till the flight?" I mutter to him begrudgingly as his smirk grows wider. Part of is scandalized he’s in my living room acting like this is normal, but the other half is unfortunately, enjoying the image of it.
"In two hours. I also booked us a hotel." He says staring at .
My eyes go wide. Ignoring the hotel part, I ask "I have to pack in two hours?" I ask about to sprint to my room.
He tilts his head at "Thought you would have done that by now."
"Yeah, not exactly sothing I’m hundred percent looking forward to." I chuckle nervously, already halfway into my room to shower and pack.
I take off my clothes and I’m about to hop into the bathroom when there’s a knock on my room door. I clutch my towel and answer. "Yeah?"
"I can tell the pilot to postpone. How long do you need?" he says, voice muffled from the door between us.
"Uhhhh. Maybe an extra hour?" I shout back.
"Okay, done. Take your ti, Ice princess." He says and I hear the smile in his tone and his footsteps retreating.
I bite my lips at the nickna and restrain my lips from moving upwards, lest I betray myself.
------
I ransack my closet looking for a few clothes I’ll toss into my open box on the bed. I see the perfect dress for the wedding and carefully place that. Then I source one more important clothing, in case, and then so casual wears.
I’m in the process of packing up my skincare and makeup when there’s a knock on the door again. I walk over to it and toss it open.
Ezra stands on the other side, holding Bimmy and looking slightly startled. His eyes do a double take of my room and go back to .
He clears his throat "Hungry?" he asks. I narrow my eyes at Bimmy as he snuggles into Ezra and look back at him.
"Slightly. Why?" I ask.
"I can order us so quick fast food. What do you prefer?" he asks already tapping on his phone.
I sigh because I’m supposed to be staying off fast food. It makes bloated; even though I have a high tabolism, but my new job needs at my best at all tis.
"Maybe I’ll skip on the food till we reach." I tell him.
He tilts his head at "But you’re hungry."
I sigh, again. "Yes but... fast food doesn’t seem like the best option right now. You can order for yourself though."
"I can order you sothing organic? If you prefer. You have to eat, Harlem." I look at him, like REALLY look at him. Trying to figure out why he cares.
"Do they have rice bowls?" I mumble, suddenly fascinated with my burgundy acrylics, hoping I’m not inconveniencing him by being too picky.
"Yes, they do. Do you want the brown rice one? I can take the white rice." He asks, smiling slightly and I nod.
"Okay, I’ll let you know when it arrives." He says and closes the door. I stand and stare at it, wondering how my life beca this and how the hell I’m supposed to act with Ezra Roth on the other side of my door.
Reviews
All reviews (0)