A Game With The Billionaire

Chapter 9:

Samantha:

I don’t like weddings.

Don’t get me wrong, they just smell like expectations, a giant five-layered cake, kissing under the sunlight, dancing and drinking expensive champagne? It just seems so desperate, especially when you are thirty-seven, and all your friends are either expecting their third child, married or soon to be married.

“Maybe this time, you’ll find the love of your life.” My mother’s hearty voice chirps through the phone as I drag my travel bag to the elevator.

I roll my eyes so hard. “Mama, I am going for a wedding, not an audition for the bachelor.”

She laughs, completely ignoring my sarcasm. “What about Andrew? He’s smart and handsome, and he’s even a doctor, just like you.”

I swear, if anyone mentions that smug bastard’s name, I might totally lose my mind.

“Mama, please not him.” I say, jabbing the elevator button so hard, like it personally offended me.

“You two have known each other since you were little.” Mama sighs.

“Exactly, which is why I know everything.”

I love my mother, I really do. But my mother has this delusion that familiarity should somehow equal romantic destiny and so does every single friend in my group.

‘You two have known each other for a long time; wouldn’t it just be better to date him?’

‘Your mother and his mother are best-friends, just marry him already!’

‘You work in the same hospital; you see each other every day and you haven’t fallen in love yet?’

Andrew and I have never gotten along before, we literally don’t have any good moments together and to be honest, I don’t think we are compatible; we use every chance we have to bicker at each other. He doesn’t like me and I don’t like him, that’s how it’s going to stay between us.

The elevator dings open and I step out, still on the phone, dragging my bag across the polished hotel lobby. It’s one of the doctor’s weddings and she also happens to be getting married to a fellow doctor, and while everyone is excited, I just wish the weekend ends more sooner so I can go and live my happily single life.

“Anyways,” my mother continues, even when she knows that this type of conversation quickly tires me, she has been trying to set me up since I was in med school since I am still the only single child she has. “Arya, your younger sister is married to Devon, your younger brother is dating Andrew’s younger sister and all your friends are settling down. They’re happy.”

My chest squeezes, it’s not particularly fun to be reminded of how single you are especially when you happen to be the first child and your younger siblings are already dating or married.

“I don’t need to be in love for me to be happy, mama.” I sigh.

“I know! I am just saying that it’s high time that you stop pretending that love is a disease.”

“I diagnose disease, Mama. I don’t catch them.” I mutter, earning a strange look from the receptionist as I approach the desk.

“Have a nice time, sweetheart.” Mama says in that hopeful tone that translates into ‘please come home engaged’

“Bye, mama.” I end the call before she can say more and that’s when I hear his voice.

“Afternoon, Sam.”

No. Goodness, no.

I turn slowly, like a character in a horror movie who already knows that the monster is beside her. Andrew is approaching me, his hands tightened around his travel bag. I won’t lie, because I can recognize a fine man when I see one.

Dr. Andrew Roberts looks ridiculously handsome, and the worst part? He knows it, he’s looking as smug as ever in a crisp shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his fine arms.

I don’t catch the look the receptionist fires his away; it makes me roll my eyes.

“Afternoon, Drew.” I say back, gritting my teeth hard. Andrew calls me Sam just to irritate me and I call him Drew back, two can play that game.

We approach the receptionist together.

“Dr. Roberts and Dr. Morris! The bride mentioned you two would be arriving together.”

I blink, unsure of what I just heard. “Excuse me?”

“Yes,” she says brightly, tapping at her computer. “You’ll be sharing a suite. Miss. Hawthorne said it was a special arrangement for her favourite doctors.”

Of course. The bride, one of my closest friends, the same friend that has been trying to play matchmaker since when we were in med school, but this is going too far. I can’t stand being in the same space with Andrew, talk less of sharing the same suite for the weekend!

Andrew’s lips twitch like this is all a joke. “Guess we are going to be roommates, Sammy.”

I am breathing so hard, it’s hard to stop the brewing anger. I will be sure to give the bride a scolding and a lecture on how Andrew and I can never work out.

Breathe in and out. It’s just for a weekend, nothing too serious and besides, it will be a large suite, we don’t even have to do anything together.

“Here’s your room key, enjoy your stay.” She says brightly, giving us the key.

I nod tensely. Maybe it won’t be so bad, that’s what I tell myself as we walk down the carpeted hallway, our suitcases rolling behind us.

“You know, for someone who has claimed to hate me her whole life, you sure do seem to talk to me a lot.” Andrew says as we step into the elevator.

I breathe hard, you see what I am saying? I can’t stand this guy.

“That’s because we work in the same hospital.” I grit my teeth hard. Why does everyone even think that we are a perfect match?

The elevator opens to the top floor, and we step out into the pure luxury that awaits us. The suite door swings open to reveal soft lighting, white marble floors and a beautiful view of the city lights.

There’s a plush living area with a cream sofa, a glass coffee table and a balcony framed with curtains. A champagne bucket sits on the table, courtesy of the bride, no doubt and a little card that reads: For the happy doctors!

Ah, she’s playing too hard.

“Happy now?” I ask Andrew who is busy admiring the suite. “We get to live together for the weekend, as if that’s not enough torture.”

“You’re kind of cute when you’re pissed.” Andrew laughs as he drops his suitcase beside the sofa.

I glare at him so hard, but my heart skips. Betrayal.

We move towards the bedroom and that’s when I freeze. There’s one, just one. The open door reveals a single massive king bed, facing a glass-enclosed shower.

Glass.

As in, transparent.

“This can’t be real.” I whisper, pointing around with shaky hands. Setting up with one bedroom is disastrous, now the shower is transparent?!

Andrew’s voice dips in amusement. “Something wrong, doctor?”

I turn to him, horrified. “The shower. It’s see-through!” My hands fly towards my blouse.

He chuckles. “Relax, Sam.”

I take a step back and he takes one forward. My heel catches the edge of the rug and suddenly I’m falling onto the bed, my pulse quickening.

“Don’t you dare come closer.” I warn, my voice getting breathless.

He stops only a few feet away and he reaches past me, I catch a whiff of his cologne and I almost lose my mind. He leans forward and grabs the remote lying beside me and clicks a button.

The glass turns opaque immediately.

I blink in surprise. “You knew?”

His grin spreads slowly. “Of course, it was fun watching you go all red.”

“You’re freaking insufferable.”

“Admit it, you like that.” He says, tugging loose his tie and popping the first few buttons of his shirt. “I am going to shower first.”

The sight of his collarbone makes me look away sharply, my cheeks burning. “You’re delusional.”

He laughs softly. “It’s okay, Sam. If you want to sneak a peek, I won’t tell.”

I scoff, squeezing my eyes. “Please leave.”

“Come on,” he says, that teasing lilt evident in his voice. “You can look.”

My jaw tightens. “I am thirty-seven and I am a doctor. I’ve seen plenty of shirtless men before.”

“Then prove it.”

Goodness.

I open my eyes and I instantly regret it. Andrew’s standing there, half undressed; it’s evident that he works out. This is the body of a man who spends his free time in the gym. Suddenly, I have the urge to run my hand through that line of muscle.

He’s beautiful in a way that annoys me and it annoys me because it’s Andrew Roberts.

I am staring too hard, my gaze wandering where it shouldn’t.

“Sam, you’re ogling me. You have this hungry look in your eyes like you want me for dinner.”

I tear my eyes away; my heart beating faster than normal and that smug grin spreads across his mouth.

Sam- 0

Drew- 1

I don’t know how in the hell I am going to survive this weekend with him.