A Proposition for the Secret Billionaire

The pulsing bass of the club music thrummed through Olivia's body as she nursed her drink, slumped over the bar. The alcohol burned pleasantly down her throat, but it did little to numb the ache in her chest. Her father's words echoed in her mind, each syllable a fresh wound. “She's my daughter too, Olivia. I can’t be fair to you just to be unfair to her” She had gone into her father’s study to confront him about the rumors that had been going round the company. ”Dad, what is this I’m hearing about Sophia?” she had asked him, hoping against hope that he will prove her wrong. “The board have seen the amount of work she's putting in and have concluded that she deserves a chance to run for CEO as much as you,” Dad had said. Olivia signaled the bartender for another round, determined to drown out the voice of reason. She was the heir apparent, wasn't she? It had always been her destiny to take over the company. And now, with a single board decision, that future was slipping through her fingers like sand into her step-sisters. As she raised the fresh glass to her lips, a familiar face caught her eye. Jeremiah, her mechanic, of all people. Something stirred in her chest - relief, perhaps, or a desperate need for connection. "Hey Jeremiah!" she called out, her voice a touch too loud. "What are you doing here? Come sit with me!" He approached, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern. Olivia felt a flutter in her stomach as he took the seat beside her. She'd always found him attractive, in a rugged, capable sort of way. "Olivia? What brings you here?" he asked, his voice steady and calm. She waved her hand dismissively, the motion slightly uncoordinated. "Oh, you know. Needed a drink. Felt suffocated at home." The words tumbled out before she could stop them, and she found herself watching Jeremiah intently, hoping he'd press further. But he didn't. He simply nodded, ordered his own drink, and settled into a comfortable silence. Olivia felt frustration bubbling up inside her. Why wasn't he asking more? Didn't he care? Desperate to keep the conversation going, she asked, "What are you doing outside the mechanic shop this early?" "I was done for the day and decided to come grab a drink before going home," he answered, in a brief tone. "It's good you're here, drinking alone can be boring," Olivia said, raising her glass in a toast before taking another large gulp. "Yeah, it is," Jeremiah agreed, but still didn't pry. Frustration bubbled up inside her. Why wasn't he asking what was wrong? Couldn't he see she needed someone to talk to? Olivia sighed and buried her face in her drink. As the night wore on and the drinks kept coming, she felt myself slipping further into a haze. Jeremiah's voice cut through the fog, "Whoa.. Olivia, take it easy on that, you'll end up drunk at this rate." "Leave me alone, I need to drink," she slurred, reaching for more. The next thing she knew, Jeremiah was helping her into his car. “wait here, let me pay for the drinks. I’ll be right back.” he said as the closed the door and headed back inside the bar. The world spun lazily as Olivia slumped in the passenger seat, her head lolling against the cool window. A giddy reckless energy coursed through her veins, mingling with impatience. What was taking him so long?. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, flickering between hazy memories of the night and half-formed plans of seduction dancing in her mind. She giggled to herself. She fidgeted restlessly, fumbling with her phone. Maybe she should text him to hurry up. Just as she was about to do that, Jeremiah came out, holding her forgotten jacket in hand. He got into the car and handed it to her. “you forgot this,” He said, gently placing the jacket around her shoulders. "You're such a cool guy," Olivia said gleefully, trying to hug Jeremiah as he fastened her seat belt. "Olivia? I need your address," Jeremiah asked, his voice patient but firm. "Just take me to your place, I can't remember my address," she replied, nudging his shoulder playfully. "Olivia, stop playing. Just give me the address," he insisted. "I can't remember it, Jere," she pouted, the lie obvious even to her drunk self. He pulled out of the parking lot, deciding to drop the question. As they drove, Olivia kept trying to get his attention, she attempted grabbing the steering wheel. But Jeremiah managed to keep them safe, muttering something about her not being able to hold her liquor. Olivia heard the car stop, and felt Jeremiah leading her her up the narrow stairs to his apartment, steadying her with a gentle hand on her elbow. Her steps were uneven, and she leaned heavily against him, giggling softly. As they reached the landing, he fumbled for his keys, while trying to balance Olivia in his other arm, to keep her from falling. Once inside, Jeremiah guided her to the bedroom. "You can take the bed," he said, his voice tinged with concern. "I'll sleep on the couch." Olivia flopped onto the bed, her limbs sprawling haphazardly. Her eyes, glassy from alcohol, fixed on Jeremiah as he carefully removed her shoes. His movements were precise, almost clinical, as he placed her accessories on the nightstand. "You're so nice, Jere," Olivia mumbled, her words slurring slightly. “You should rest,” he replied quietly, pulling a blanket over her. He retreated to the kitchen, returning with a bucket which he placed beside the bed. "Just in case," he explained, though She was already drifting off, his soothing voice, making her feel protected. Olivia woke up in the middle of the night, Her throat felt dry and parched. She decided to make her way to the kitchen. Her footsteps faltered as she crossed the dimly lit room. The moon spilled through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on Jeremiah's face. There he lay, sprawled across the couch, features softened by slumber. His jawline, chiseled and defined, seemed to hold secrets, stories etched into the lines around his mouth. The moonlight danced across his skin, tracing the curve of his lips, the slope of his nose. Olivia's heart skipped a beat. She'd seen handsome men before, but this was different. Jeremiah's vulnerability in sleep, the way his lashes rested against his cheekbones, stirred something within her. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, the fabric of his shirt clinging to the contours of his body. She wondered about the dreams that played behind his closed eyelids, the memories that shaped him. In that quiet moment, Olivia felt a pull, an inexplicable connection. Perhaps it was the way his hair fell across his forehead, or the vulnerability etched into his features. Whatever it was, she knew she'd remember this night, the night she discovered beauty in vulnerability. Olivia's heart raced as she leaned over Jeremiah, her breath hitching. The moonlight painted their surroundings in shades of silver, and she hesitated for a fraction of a second. But then, almost as if guided by some unseen force, she pressed her lips to his. It was a soft, tentative kiss, fueled by longing and the quiet hours of the night. She wasn't aware of the world beyond this moment, the way the air seemed to hold its breath, the way her pulse thrummed in her veins. Jeremiah stirred, eyelashes fluttering against his skin. His lips responded, a sleepy murmur escaping him. Olivia's heart soared. She'd crossed a line, but it felt inevitable, a collision of desire and fate. His arms encircled her, pulling her closer. The taste of him, the warmth, the promise, sent shivers down her spine. He woke fully now, eyes locking onto hers. "Olivia," he whispered, voice rough with sleep and something deeper. "What are we doing?" She didn't have an answer. All she knew was that she'd kissed him, and he'd kissed her back. The room held them, cocooned in moonlight, and Olivia surrendered to the pull - the undeniable force that drew her to this man. And so, they kissed, deep and hungry, as if time had ceased to exist. Their kiss deepened, fueled by a hunger that defied reason. Olivia's fingers tangled in Jeremiah's hair, pulling him closer. His lips tasted of warmth and sleep, a heady combination that sent sparks through her veins.Outside, the world ceased to exist. The moon watched, a silent witness to their unraveling desire. Jeremiah's hands explored the curve of her spine, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. And then, inevitably - the couch became too confining. Olivia tugged at his hand, leading him toward the bedroom, But Jeremiah stopped her, his voice gentle yet firm, “I can’t do this Olivia, Please go back to bed.” Olivia halted, realizing what she was about to do. A wave of shame washed over her. Here she was, trying to seduce the same man who took care of her last night, choosing her comfort over his own. “I’m so sorry Jeremiah. This never happened,” she apologized, quickly retreating into the room and shutting the door. The next morning, before Jeremiah could wake up, she packed her things and left his house, still filled with embarrassment. She knew she would probably never see him again. She noted to find a new mechanic to replace him.