Befriending The Billionaire's Son

CHAPTER THREE

I let my eyes adjust to the lights inside the club and my ears to the blaring music as I wrapped my palm around the pole. The Freddie guy insisted that I acted as a stripper so that Asher is unaware of his conspiracy.

After a violent and scathing criticism from Gemma when I got home, I called up Laurel and gave up the fight. I saw the more reason why I needed to leave my family and start working at being a professional dancer. Life at home was suffocating and anything apart from that will be appreciated.

I swung my figure around the pole the third time before picking out Asher at the rear end of the VIP section of the club with his face engrossed in his phone. I climbed down from the pole aware that stripping won't get his attention. I walked to the DJ and whispered a song to him then grabbed a mic from the stand.

Freddie had provided Asher's favourite song and I was going to sing it. Immediately the tune came on, Asher's head jerked away from his phone and he looked around the club for bit before getting back to whatever was more important on his screen.

But I didn't care and began to sing. His head bobbed slowly to the music during the solo but when I got into the chorus aspect, I walked up and his table which was one out of five others and began to sing. He looked up at me and I took the opportunity to maintain eye contact and broke into some incredible dancesteps.

His expression remained placid for a few more minutes before he began to mumble words then it got louder and louder. I could make out the words, “Claudie, is that you?” His eyes still trapped in my gaze. I bobbed my head and stroke another move when he let out a shrill cry and lurched at me, tightening his grip around my neck.

I tried to separate myself but his hold only tightened as he repeated, “You're not Claudie! You're not my Claudia.” He didn't look like a maniac but I knew he wasn't seeing me or understanding the pain he was causing me right now. He was hallucinating.

Several bouncers grabbed me and dragged him out of the club despite his struggles and screams while I collapsed to the ground, coughing and trying to catch my breath.

Soon, my vision began to faze out and I blacked out. I woke up to beeping machines all around me and an oxygen mask placed on my face. I tried to reach for my neck but a voice stopped me when I kept trying to move my arm.

“You can't. Your body would take sometime to respond to you so be a little more patient and might I say careful next time you're dealing with a victim of heartbreak like my son.” I recognised the voice from his campaigns but didn't strain my neck to see him. He made it easier instead by taking few steps into my view.

“Let's talk.” He commented but I just stared at him, unable to do anything. “You got a reaction out of my son who for five years had ignored the existence of any member of the female gender including his childhood nanny and his response to you was shocking to me and everyone who know him.” I moped at him, wondering where he was going with the unnecessary explanations.

“Tell me.” He adjusted his weight on the chair. “Do you find my son attractive? Of course, I know he's a dashing young man but what's your opinion about his physical appearance.” But I just peered at him. Didn't he know that I couldn't talk without a mask?

“Oh, my bad. Your mask.” He chuckled as if just noticing then pulled it off my face. I jerked, gasping for air but he stood over me without budging. “Do you? Do you find him attractive?” His calm voice came again but this time, it was a lot deeper.

I stared into his face which portrayed no harmful instinct, “I don't!” I struggled to say, still trying to reach for the mask. He shrugged and put it back on me.

“I didn't expect you to. I've looked you up. You've never been in a relationship and detests the male gender. I would do same if I was you with such a broken family.” He turned his back to me. “No knowledge of their father, two sisters depraved of manly love with one going haywire over it, a cousin who believes men will never be anything asides their d***s and a sister who like the aunt keeps getting her heart broken.”

Yayyy! You did it! You solved the puzzle of the McClure family in two minutes.

“Oh! I didn't add, you rejected a Stanford admission for a cheap Arts School. How brave!” He alluded but I rolled my eyes. My family was bare, he could have gotten all these information from our snitching neighbour down the road. What else did he have on his sleeve?

Pulling his seat closer to the hospital bed, he sat down with an intense look. “Your little stunt for 5000 dollars is all my opponent needs to ruin my campaign. I was getting ahead. From the middle-class single man to the owner of a multimillion dollar company and now to the biggest politician Risket has ever trusted but… but this little stunt of yours, that psychotic episode can send me back to a homeless shelter.” He broke off eye contact to bring out a tennis ball from his trouser pocket.

Bouncing the ball, he continued to speak though his attention was on the little ball. “My opponent’s daughter was in the VIP section and she took a video. A video that will ruin my campaign and my life. She's not posted it but her father has great piece of evidence for his next time on a podium, I don't and that's where you come in.”

I jerked making the bed rattle but he didn't spare me a glance. Come in? What did he mean come in.

“I need you to befriend Asher. You make him get close to you and attached to you. It already bad for my campaign that he's never had an close contact with a girl for years and there are speculations that he turned gay due to how he latched unto Freddie but I know my boy. He's as straight as a ruler and is hoping for the day “Claudie” will come back to him.” He made a face at the mention of her name and I knew she'd really done lots of damage to his relationship with his son.

He stood up, still bouncing the ball to the floor. “Your job is simple. Make him show affection to a female. It'll clear the people's doubts and the evidence of his psychotic episode won't hold water. You don't have to love him, just turn on the charm you use for your little brother, Coltie. They're alike.” He breathed out, “Autistic and schizophrenic.”

I wanted to argue that Coltie wasn't schizophrenic and that he had psychotic episodes whenever he met new people but he was already saying something else. ‘He's the calmest autistic person she'd ever seen’ according to his therapist.

“Your reward will be scholarship to Arts school throughout your stay there. I'll also cater your other needs.” He shrugged as my eyes brightened. Scholarship? Away from mum, fulfilling my dreams? “You have just three months before for the session to end at the Art school. If you want to get in by next session, act fast. I also have barely three months to the National elections I have to clear the people's doubts before then.” He paused and inhaled deeply, quaking his shoulders.

“This should be kept between us, Viola. You've already rattled Asher and that's why I chose you to get this done. Get Asher to like you, get me back the hearts of my people and get into your dream school. Far away from your mother… The clock is ticking now. Get well soon, Viola Jefferson.” He concluded, turned the knob and exited the room.

I let out a long breath and let my eyes wander around the room. It didn't look like a hospital. I guess I was taken away in order to dissolve suspicions from the public about my connection with Asher Norman and make it easy for us to keep the deal a secret.

I sighed… Gemma would be worried, Coltie too but Mum would act roughly as always reminding them of the many times I'd tried to escape. Thank God I wasn't on the news or a viral video.

I closed my eyes, letting my muscles relax as I concentrated on the onl

y thing I should have on my mind - Befriend Asher Norman!