Shades Of Submission: Fifty By Fifty Part 113

Sunday afternoon I finally got my answer. With a sudden energy I didn't know I had, I got up, grabbed my phone and punched the numbers in with the ferocity of someone who knew that if they stopped they would never start again. Before I had the chance to think about it, before my brain had a chance to say no, the phone was ringing. Mark picked up on the third ring.

"h.e.l.lo, Mark speaking."

"Hey, Mark, it's Caroline," I answered, not really knowing what else to say. Was that what I should have said?

"Oh! Hey Caroline, it's nice to hear from you."

"Yeah, you too. Even though I called you. I guess. Well, seeing as I kicked you out the other night..."

JUST STOP TALKING my brain begged, realizing this sentence was going nowhere but downhill, fast.

"Sorry. That came out wrong."

"No, no. You were right about that. I crossed a line, I shouldn't have done it, and I need to apologize for it. I'm sorry, Caroline."

"It's alright."

"Can I make it up to you by taking you out to dinner? I'm leaving first thing tomorrow morning, but we can grab a bite to eat before then if you're up for it."

"That sounds nice, where do you want to meet?"

"Well, you're the local, where do you recommend?"

An hour later I was sitting in a booth at a local restaurant, made up to be a 50s diner style, that served hands down the best milkshakes in town. I stared at my hands, my mind wandering as all those dark corner of my brain that still filled with self doubt came to the forefront.

What if he isn't coming? What if he decided you were too b.i.t.c.hy at your apartment? What if he decided he actually doesn't want to see you again?

Suddenly, all my fears were eased as Mark slipped into the booth across from me. As I looked up and saw those gorgeous cheekbones, that stubble that looked to be a day or two old, I could feel electricity pounding through my body, my heart beat rising, my chest pressing against my s.h.i.+rt. Memories of that night in Hawaii came flooding back. I wanted to feel those same feelings, experience the ecstasy I'd gotten from that night.

"Hey," he greeted casually. "Sorry I'm a couple minutes late, had a bit of trouble finding the place."

"That's alright, I just got here myself," I replied. It wasn't entirely true, but it wasn't like I'd been waiting more than ten minutes.

"I wanted to say sorry in person for showing up unexpectedly at your door the other night."

"Thanks. It's ok though, I'm a little bit more paranoid than most people, I should probably get all the crazy out of the way on our first date."

Mark laughed. "Well, I'm pretty sure my crazy can top yours. After all, I'm the one who acted like a creepy stalker."

"And I'm the one who acted like you showed up to murder me. Who brings flowers to a murder scene?"

"Don't forget the business card, so the police would know who did it!" Mark joked back, and I laughed, just as the waitress came by to take our drink orders.

"Why don't we move away from a topic that makes me look like an idiot?" Mark asked. "How are you finding adjusting to life after Hawaii?"

"It's tough, let me tell you. When I stare out of the view of my office onto the parking lot, it's definitely not Waikiki Beach. But hey, I'm usually working and not staring out of windows, so it's not too bad. Crunching numbers keeps my mind active, and I actually do enjoy my job."

"Well, you're pretty much the first person I've ever heard who works with numbers admit that."

"We all just pretend we have the worst jobs on the planet so no one will come and take them from us."

"I think there's a whole generation of high schoolers behind you that want nothing to do with math the instant they graduate, I don't think you need to worry."

"Maybe, but just to be safe. In this economy, you never know!"

"How did you decide to become a financial a.n.a.lyst, anyway?"

This was a lie I was used to telling. I had a whole lie about my childhood all set up. I liked to tell people that my parents were both teachers, that they paid for my way through college, and they had a little house in the suburbs. They sent me $100 every month just because they liked to take care of me. Reality, of course, was a whole different story. Somehow, however, I didn't feel like I should lie to Mark. I didn't tell him the whole story, of course, but what I did tell him was the truth.

"Honestly, it wasn't out of some underlying pa.s.sion for business, or anything like that. I had to get away from some personal stuff, and the best way to do it, I thought, was to get an education and a decent job. I did some research, figure financial a.n.a.lysis was probably the best way to go in terms of time spent studying, job options after graduation, and all that sort of thing, and here I am."

Mark looked at me, his eyes piercing through me. It was like he could tell there was something I was holding back, something I wasn't telling him, but he didn't ask.

"That's a sign of a strong person, to be able to overcome barriers like that and be successful."

I shrugged. "I dunno, anyone would have done it."

"No, don't sell yourself short. I imagine there are a lot of people in the same situation as you who don't dare leave their comfort zone the way you did."

I suddenly started to feel embarra.s.sed. I muttered thanks just as the waitress brought us our food. Thankful for the interruption, I started eating, and Mark did as well, leaving the conversation about my past unfinished. I was glad. I didn't tell people, especially not men, about my past. I'd learned that lesson.

As the night went on, we moved to lighter subjects. Same as in Hawaii, I found that Mark was charming and funny, he had great stories to tell, and when it was finally time to leave I felt that same sinking feeling as I had the night in Hawaii. I didn't know if, or when I would see Mark again. After all, as he had said last time, he travelled a lot for work, but was based in California. It wasn't exactly a commutable distance for a relations.h.i.+p, and I knew all too well how well most long distance relations.h.i.+ps ended.

Holy s.h.i.+t, are you thinking about a relations.h.i.+p now? Seriously? This is exactly the sort of thing you avoid. Remember what happened the last time you had a boyfriend? The last time you trusted him? It all blew up in your face. You're absolutely not dating this man, as nice as he might seem.

"So all this talk, and I still don't actually know what it is you do."

"I run a couple of my dad's companies."

"Well yeah, but what are those companies?"

Mark s.h.i.+fted in his seat, almost uncomfortably. He hesitated before answering. "For the most part, the Hibiscus chain of resorts."

I could practically feel my jaw dropping on the floor.

"Hold on... you're telling me your dad owns the Hibiscus resorts? Like, all of them?"

"Yeah. I don't like to tell people before I get to know them a bit, sorry I didn't tell you earlier, but you know, privacy and all that."

"I think you understand that privacy is important to me," I replied wryly.

"s.h.i.+t. So you must be, a millionaire, at least." I could practically feel myself cringing as I spoke. I wanted to just act casual about things, but how do you act casually when you find out the guy you're on a date with is heir to half the luxury resorts in the country?

"At least. Truth be told my wealth is probably in the billions. My parents created a trust fund for my sister and myself when we were young. I'm not going to lie, we're very well off."

"Why weren't you in the penthouse then, of the resort in Hawaii?"

"I never book under my own name. I like to be treated like anyone else would be treated. I generally try to book a middle-of-the-road room and the staff never know who I am. Well, except for one exceptionally bright housekeeper one day who had researched the company to get her job. She got a promotion to management that same day."

"Wow. s.h.i.+t. I can't believe it. I don't even know what to say. Like, how do I talk to a billionaire?"

"The same way you were talking to me before was working pretty well for me."

I realized how silly I must have sounded and blushed.

"Sorry. I'm being rude."

"No, not at all. I'm sure everyone who finds out has the same reaction, just most people don't say it out loud. I appreciate your honesty."

"Serious? Are you serious? You're not just pulling my leg?" Something in me just couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believe it was real. Surely a man this funny, this charming, this s.e.xy couldn't also be rich. Like, that's just winning the life lottery. No, more than that, the lottery doesn't usually pay out billions.

Mark grinned as he pulled out his wallet, motioning at the waitress to bring the check.

"Here. Maybe this'll change your mind," he replied, handing me his credit card. The Amex Centurion, surrounded by black, with Mark Selzer as the name on the bottom. This was the fabled Black Card, invitation only, for the richest of the rich.

"Alright, I believe you," I answered, handing him back his card. "It doesn't make it any less surreal."

"Well, I'm still the same as I was three minutes ago, so don't worry about that. It's not like my snootiness level has gone up because you know how much money I've got."

"You're right, I'm sorry. Listen, do you want to come back to my place for coffee or something? Or you know, we could go back to yours, it's probably nicer than my apartment."

"I wouldn't know, you wouldn't let me in your apartment last time," Mark teased.

"Well, take my word for it. There are flea infested motels by the highway that are nicer than my apartment."

"I'm sure it's not that bad. Coffee sounds nice."

It was weird, going back to my place, knowing that I was driving a billionaire in my early 2000s Honda with the pa.s.senger side window that wouldn't quite close and seats that had holes from G.o.d knows what.

"Sorry about the car."

"You know, Caroline, you don't need to apologize for anything. I'm used to this sort of thing, I don't need luxury."

"What kind of car drove you to the restaurant?"

"A Lincoln Town Car," he admitted sheepishly.

"See? This is definitely a step down from that."

"I said I don't need luxury, I didn't say I don't have it. You know, it's funny, most women when they find out about me insist that the Town Car drive them home. I like your different reaction."

"Well, if your Town Car drove us, I'd be stranded at my apartment tomorrow."

"That's a very sensible way of looking at things."

I pulled into the driveway and silently cursed myself for not cleaning the apartment before our date. I mean, it's not like my place was messy, I kept it pretty organized, but I didn't expect to be bringing home a billionaire. He would probably think I was a gigantic mess.

"Sorry about the mess," I told him as we walked in.

"Don't worry about it," he replied, making himself at home on my couch in the living room while I put the coffee on.

"Cream and sugar?" I asked.

"Just cream thanks, if I'm really lucky I'll get some sugar later."

I threw a dish towel at him and he grinned. As he looked at me, I could almost sense that he knew. He knew my stomach had just done a 180 at those words, knew that my panties were getting moist, that my skin was tingling. Surely he just had to know.

We sat down with the coffee and got to talking. Pretty soon, the talking became more than talking, and we moved into my bedroom. My world spun as Mark proved that Hawaii wasn't just a one time fluke. He made me feel things I could never have imagined. o.r.g.a.s.m after o.r.g.a.s.m rocked my body as he discovered me, not only with his shaft, but with his mouth, something I'd never experienced before.

I couldn't deny it anymore: when Mark completely took over, when he had complete and total control in the bedroom, I was more turned on than I'd ever been in my life. I didn't understand it, didn't realize why my body reacted the way it did when he ordered me around, pinned me to the bed, brought me closer and closer to the edge of o.r.g.a.s.m then denied me, making me beg for it, making me plead for that sweet release I craved so strongly. But I did. I did react that way, there was definitely no denying it anymore.

As I fell asleep, Mark's arms wrapped protectively around me, I thought about the fact that he was flying out tomorrow, that once more I was only going to have him for a night. For the first time in a long time, I wanted more than that.

Mark and I both woke up at the crack of dawn. He had a flight to catch, and I had to get to work. He helped me make eggs, which we ate in silence on the couch. I suddenly began to wish I'd invested in a dining room table, but there was nowhere to fit one in my apartment even if I had.

"So when's your flight leave?" I finally asked.

"Around ten. I'll have to be at the airport by nine."

"I guess that's it then?" Despite myself, despite how much I enjoyed Mark's company, I was starting to feel used, like he had just come here to bang me. I knew that wasn't true, I knew it was more than that, but my mind was a mess. A completely unconfident mess.

"Well, about that, Caroline. I was thinking."

He paused for a minute, almost as though he was trying to figure out what to say.

"I don't want this to come out as creepily as the last time. I honestly don't mean this in a creepy way at all. I want you to come and work for my company. We can always use a good financial a.n.a.lyst."

"What? But you don't know if I'm any good!" I'm not sure why that was the first thing I thought of, but it was. Mark laughed.

"Of course I do. You've got your spare bedroom converted into an office. You're what, twenty four, twenty five, and you've got a good job, which is more than most young people these days can say. There's six tabs open on your computer, all work related, on a weekend. You're definitely good at your job. And I'm not going to lie, I'd enjoy having you around. For one thing, we could go out a lot more."

"But aren't you travelling like, all the time?"

"About 100 days a year, yes. But I'll be in San Diego the rest of the time. Whatever they're paying you here, I'll double it. And you'll get a company car," he added with a wink, and I laughed in spite of myself.

"So, what do you say?"

"I don't know. I mean, I want to say yes, but I think I'll have to think about it. I'm not the type of person who makes big life decisions on a whim."

"I thought so. Well, you have my number. When you come to a decision, call me and let me know. Either way, I'm ok with it, although I'd obviously prefer if you said yes."

The whole day was spent thinking about Mark's offer rather than working. I tried to work, but every time I started, I would think about his offer. Did I want to accept? I think a part of me did. I think a part of me wanted to be with him, to see how our relations.h.i.+p would develop.

But a part of me was scared. After all, this would be a big move for me. I had given up a lot for a man before, and it hadn't ended well. Was I ready to try again? Was I ready to trust again? I wasn't quite sure. I barely knew Mark. I didn't know a lot about him at all. But he was intriguing. I liked how he had picked up on the things like my home office. He was obviously smart, on top of all his other traits. But did I really want to risk everything I'd worked for just for a chance at love? I wasn't sure I did.

Eventually, around the middle of the afternoon, I made my decision. I wanted to talk to Lisa about it, but I knew what she'd say ("Oh my G.o.d, a billionaire wants to pay you twice what you're making now to go work for him and date him? Why are we even having this conversation, fly there right now!") and she was away on a sales conference for the next two days anyway. Besides, it was my decision to make, and I made it. I picked up the phone, stared at it in my hand for a couple of minutes, and then dialed the number.