The Fruit Seller And The Playboy Billionaire

Chapter 1 : Five dollar trouble Oh my God. I feel so tired today. The sun was already up and burning through the small window of my room in Houston. I shot up in bed. Gosh. I overslept. Mom is going to be so pissed. I threw on my worn-out apron and ran downstairs to the shop on Cool Street. The smell of fresh oranges and ripe pineapples hit me immediately. This was Mom's shop. And now that she was sick, it was mine to run. "Vanessa! You have orders!" Mom's voice came from the back room, weak but sharp. "I know, I know!" I yelled back, already grabbing the baskets. "Apples for Mrs. Ade next door, oranges for Mr. Chuka, and pineapples for the restaurant!" My phone buzzed. 3 orders. All due before noon. I was tying the last bag when I heard it. "Oh Vanessa. Oh my lovely Vanessa." Not again. The homeless woman. Old Mama Titi. She stood at the corner of the shop with her plastic bowl. "I remember I gave you some apples last time and I haven't even paid Mom for those apples yet," I said, but my voice softened. "Vanessa, it's just one apple please. Just one apple." I sighed. I shouldn't. Mom would kill me. "Fine. I'm going to give you an apple. And some pineapples. But please don't come back today, okay? Mom will be pissed." I handed her the fruit and 2 dollars from the small cash box. "Here. Take this. Buy yourself food later." "Oh my God Vanessa, you are such a nice person. I really appreciate you." I smiled. Being kind was all I had left. That was when the bell above the door chimed. "Good afternoon. I want some apples please. How much is it gonna cost me?" I was still bent over the counter. I looked up. And forgot how to breathe. He was tall. Like, 6'4 tall. Dark skin glowing under the sun. Curly hair. Bright eyes. And that smile... that dangerous, playboy smile that said he knew exactly how pretty he was. He wore a black designer t-shirt and sunglasses pushed up on his head. He looked like he owned the whole street. "You... you want apples?" I stammered. My face was hot. "Oh yeah. Okay. Apples. Yeah. How many do you want?" "Surprise me," he said, leaning on my counter. My hands shook as I packed the apples. Five of them. The biggest, reddest ones we had. "Here you go. It's just... five dollars." "Five dollars?" He raised an eyebrow. "Damn. It's cheap." He paid and looked around the shop. "Your shop is really nice too." "Thank you," I whispered. He left. The bell chimed again. And I stood there, staring at the door, heart pounding. Damn. He was really, really pretty. Little did I know, that $5 apple just changed my entire life.: Chapter 2 : The Apple Girl "Oh here are your apples," I said, tossing the bag to Darlington as I slid into the passenger seat of the black SUV. "Damn that was fast." Darlington bit into one and his eyes widened. "Damn these apples are fresh." He looked at me. "Yeah, and some pretty girl just sold them to me." He choked on the apple. "What? Pretty girl? Since when do you notice pretty girls?" "Since today," I said, staring out the window of Cool Street. Her face was still stuck in my head. Big eyes. Tired smile. That apron. She looked so... real. Not like the girls at the club. "Alright let's move," Darlington said, starting the car. "Let's go over to our beach house in Galveston. I'm so bored and I just feel like I could use some pool water right now." "Okay so who's driving? Me or you?" I asked. Darlington smirked. "Alright let me just drive since you got me food. So I'm driving." And then we sped away. The beach house was quiet. Too quiet. Money, cars, parties... and I was still thinking about a fruit seller. I pulled out my phone. No reason to text her. I didn't even get her number. But my thumb hovered over Google Maps. "Vanessa's Fruit Shop. Cool Street, Houston." The name of the shop was on the bag. "Damn it," I muttered. "I'm not going back there." 5 minutes later I was putting on my shoes. Chapter 3 : Coming Back For More I told myself it was just for more apples. Yeah. Just apples. The shop on Cool Street was even busier in the afternoon. Vanessa was running around, packing oranges, talking to customers. She looked stressed. "Hey," I said when it was my turn. She looked up and froze. "You... you're back?" "Yeah. Those apples were good. I need more." I lied. I had a whole fridge of fruit at home. She smiled shyly. "Oh. Okay. How many?" "As many as you can give me," I said. And I meant it. While she packed them, I watched her. The way she wiped sweat from her forehead. The way she gave the homeless woman outside some money without thinking. Naive. Kind. Broke. Everything I wasn't supposed to like. "That will be ten dollars," she said. I handed her a 50. "Keep the change." Her eyes went wide. "No, I can't--" "Please," I cut her off. "For the best apples in town." She didn't know I was Damian Cole. Son of the Cole Group. The playboy on every Houston gossip blog. And I wasn't sure I wanted her to know. Because for the first time, someone looked at me and didn't see my last name. She just saw me. And that was dangerous. Vanessa watched him leave with the extra apples he didn't need. Her heart was beating fast. No customer had ever looked at her like that. Like she mattered. "Mom," she called to the back. "Someone just paid 50 dollars for 10 dollars worth of fruit." Mom laughed weakly from inside. "Vanessa, rich people and their charity. Just be careful, okay?" But Vanessa wasn't thinking about charity. She was thinking about his eyes. Bright. Intense. Like he was seeing right through her apron to her. She locked up shop that evening and walked home, humming. The streets of Houston were getting dark. She didn't see the black SUV parked across the street. She didn't see Damian, sitting in the passenger seat, watching her shop close. Darlington turned to him. "Bro, you coming home?" Damian didn't answer. He was still staring at Vanessa's small figure walking away. "Yeah," he finally said. "But I'm coming back here tomorrow." For apples. That was the story he was telling himself . CHAPTER 4: THE OTHER GIRL *JASMINE'S POV* Jasmine trump twirled in front of the full-length mirror in her dad’s mansion . Her silk robe slipped off one shoulder, showing off the curves she’d paid a doctor in Brazil for at 21. Two surgeries. Boobs, waist, face. All worth it. “Perfect,” she whispered, running a hand over her waist. Her phone buzzed. A message from Kira: `gurl the twins are ALONE at the beach house this weekend 😈` Jasmine’s eyes lit up. Damien and Darlington. The billionaire twins. She’d known them since she was 9. Their fathers were business partners. She grew up swimming in their pool, eating at their table. But Damien never looked at her like that. Not like he looked at other girls. He thought she was annoying. “Not for long,” Jasmine said to her reflection. She grabbed her phone. “Kira, Josy. Beach house. Tonight. We’re crashing it. And I need new outfits. Like, now.” Thirty minutes later, she was already shopping in one of the most expensive malls in Texas... Swiping her black card. Red mini dress. Bodycon. Heels that made her legs look 6ft long. All for Damien. "But he doesn’t like you,” Josy said as they left the store. “He will,” Jasmine smiled, holding up the dress. “After tonight.” --- *VANESSA'S POV* “Mom, here’s your food,” Vanessa said, setting the tray down on the small table in their mini apartment. “And please take your drugs after. Leave the leftover plates. I’ll pick them up when you’re done.” Her mom smiled weakly. “And you? Have you eaten?” “I’ll have my own food in my room,” Vanessa lied. She’d save her portion for tomorrow. She went into her room. One mattress on the floor. One small fan. One phone with cracked screen. She reheated rice and beans, ate alone, then lay back and opened her K-drama app. `My Royal Nemesis`. Episode 3. On screen, Cha Se Gye, the cold CEO, was staring at Chin So Ri like she was the only person in the world. Obsessed. Possessive. Gentle, but only with her. Vanessa sighed and hugged her pillow. “Why can’t I have that?” she whispered. “One person who looks at me like I’m the whole world.” She started daydreaming. A tall man in a suit. Coming to her fruit stall. Not for apples. For her. Calling her beautiful. Protecting her. Her eyes got heavy. The drama was still playing when sleep took over. She dreamed of a prince charming. She didn’t know his name yet. But 3 streets away, a billionaire named Damien was about to walk into her life again. And so was Jasmine.