The Billionaire’s Stripper

CHAPTER 25

I woke up to a hangover.

And well, right about the worst panic session yet.

How do I even get to explain this? Have you ever been in a position where you had gotten so drunk and wasted, and when you wake up the next day in your apartment, all the memory you have is of you dialing the number of your hot, rich billionaire love of your life and talking away at length about something that you do not even remember.

Possibly something that you shouldn't tell him? Like the fact that you have been lying to him for over a week and while you are fighting that guilt, you are trying to get a cranky old man to shut the f**k up about the truth by agreeing to help him sabotage his father's company?

Okay, maybe I was being too specific.

And maybe, you can't even relate one bit to the entire bullshit illustration that I just wasted my time to give.

Maybe none of that even happened. Maybe I did not say anything to Michael McAllister in my state of drunkenness. Maybe I was careful enough to.

Still, the fact that the chance was slim and there was more likelihood that I told on myself than I didn't, made me panic.

I was panicking so much the entire Saturday Morning.

So f*****g much that Quinn had noticed the trembling of my fingers enough to point it out.

"Oh, Rach, you worry too much!" My best friend was saying to me as she joined me on my bed, "Have a bath and clear your head. When you're done with that, we can talk about this for as long as you want."

I wanted to. I wanted to have my bath and clear my head, alright. But I couldn't bring myself to pretend like I was not disturbed about everything when there was a possibility that I may have blown it completely.

"He asked to see me today," I told Quinn.

"What did you say?" She asked me.

"What else would I have said? I agreed," I said.

"Did he sound to you like he knew that something was up?" Quinn asked.

"I wouldn't know. He contacted me through a text message," I revealed, "Is a text message ever a good sign?"

"From experience, no, but the best we can do is be optimistic," My best friend said to assure me and I face palmed, concluding I was doomed.

"I'm dead," I cried in frustration into my hands as I thought about the worst that could really happen, "He should have called if he wanted to talk. A text message never means anything good, bestie."

"No, no, no, no, no," Quinn started to clap as she shook her head adamantly, pulling me up from the bed as I sat there whining in misery, "I will not let you sit here and bemoan yourself over something that may not even be worth it!"

"What do you mean 'may not be worth it'?; this is my job! My whole entire life! My forming bond with this man! How could you even invalidate that?—"

"Ugh! Can you calm down? That's not what I meant!" Quinn facepalmed herself, taking a moment off trying to pull me off the bed to show her frustration, "I mean, b, that you may be crying over nothing. Michael McAllister may not even know anything because you probably told him nothing!"

"Do you really think that could be possible?" I asked Quinn, "You know how brutally honest I am when intoxicated! Do you really think so?"

"Well, neither of us can be too sure until you get your a*s up, have a goddamn shower, and go see your man. Do you understand that?" Quinn lectured.

Stubbornly, I let my head nod.

I guess Quinn was right to an extent. I was crying over something that I was not even sure of yet. There was every possibility that I may not have said anything to Michael McAllister.

That chance was slim, but it was not an impossibility.

Packing up my s**t, I came to the conclusion that the best thing I could do was go and meet him and find out what is really going on.

"Get up! Get up! Get up!" Quinn was screaming at me and whining even harder, I got up from bed and let the chubby brown haired beauty shove me around in a bid to get me into the bathroom.

I wouldn't say that my heart was not beating out of control.

But, there was nothing else I could do, but wait till I meet Michael McAllister.

And find out what I told him last night.

Everything I told him Last Night.

*****

It was Monica's house all over again.

Michael McAllister had said that he was coming over and knowing that he thought Monica's house to be mine, it was only sensible enough to me that that was where he was off to when he said that he would be coming over to my place to pick me up.

I was impressed at how much he heeded to my instructions. That night that he had dropped me off at Monica's house after the dinner date, he mentioned that he would be coming over more frequently and I had told him, as regaly as I could, that I did not want to see him uninvited.

And he heeded to that.

It was the consideration and respect for me.

Therefore, as I waited there, I dressed up for our afternoon getaway. With a dress, pretty and bright yellow, a shade that added to the glow of my white skin and the bright blonde of my hair, I practically glowed like the sun.

A perfect glow for a perfect Saturday afternoon.

I knew that my appearance would have Michael breathless. If he didn't hate me for anything that I said last night, do him.

"I think he is here!" Monica was hyping along with Quinn and I had to run away far from the girls before they ran out of the mansion with me in excitement and embarrassed the f**k out of me.

Monica, for one, I was a bit still curious about her and her unwavering kindness towards me. But, she was doing me a favor by letting me come here at will and appear from this mansion before Michael, in a bid to create a profile in front of him, so that was more than enough that I would have wanted from her.

I mean, really, if I was not too wrapped up in trying to keep my job and retain my image in the eyes of the COO and CEO of the company, I would have wondered why she was so nice to me.

Just like last time, I stepped out of the Mansion to see a neat Tesla, parked right out there, and I did not have to think too much about it, because I knew right off the bat that that was Michael McAllister's car.

Waiting for me.

"Time to get into action," I soliloquized as I swallowed all the panic I had, washed down all the anxiety too, and put up that cloak of that confident, badass that he knew me as.

I made up my mind to stay in this facade until he walked out of that car, angry, and gave me a reason not to.

The car door opened and it seemed like it was doing so, in slow motion. The doors shut open like little wings, and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen live.

God, rich people.

I tried not to act too surprised. I tried to keep my composure and not make it seem like I had never seen a Tesla Car open before. I couldn't embarrass myself like that. Especially when I had an image to protect in front of this man.

However, as the doors rose open before my eyes, out came the man of my dreams.

Out came Michael McAllister.

And the look on his face was a complete opposite from what I had imagined it would be.

In fact, as a matter of fact, the look on his face was the exact opposite.

"Hey," I greeted, my voice firm and strong as I looked at him with a side smile on my face that hid away the uncertainty that I low-key felt.

I wasn't sure what to think yet.

If he knew or if he did not.

But judging by what he looked like, his charming smile that seemed to widen by the second at the sight of me, I felt reassured that I was just killing myself with panic for no reason the whole entire time.

"You look so beautiful," Was the first thing he said when he stepped up in front of me.

He was one to compliment.

Michael McAllister always looked dashing.

So dashing that it hurt to look at him.

Under the sunlight, his pale white skin glowed a pretty hue and his brown eyes looked grey. In a way, he reminded me of his younger brother.

I wouldn't lie, the first thing that caught my eyes at the sight of him was the smile. But after wrapping my head around that, I looked thoroughly and noticed that he had shown up with a different look.

A more casual look.

I had always seen Michael McAllister dressed in neat tuxedos, expensive blazers, and A-Class three piece suits.

But, never in a regular grey shirt and three quarter shorts.

Nope, that's not something that you'd see your boss wearing on a normal day, right?

It was odd, but it was pretty. I liked the new look, as a matter of fact. I digged it.

Michael McAllister appealed to me as someone who easily looked good in anything that he wore. Everything about what he wore today would have still made him stand out in the midst of a thousand.

"You don't look too shabby yourself," I said to him, extending a hand to him,"Shall we?"

Michael's charming smile was the most beautiful response.

"We shall," He said to me, and he threw me right off balance when he added….

"Bundle of deceit with perfect blonde hair and pretty green eyes?"