Page 30 of Billionaire Grump

Maybe the fake date with the billionaire will be good for me. A trial run. A nice warm-up round for the real thing.

Sure, it’s out of my comfort zone, but it can’t be that hard. It’s not like I have to do anything beyond possibly sitting on his lap and giving him the occasional kiss, very lightly. It’s not going to be a real kiss, so it hardly matters.

If he’s as aloof and uptight as Cleo described, he might not even want me to. It might just be a case of sitting next to him at the wedding, making polite, stilted conversation and pretending to find him appealing.

Easy.

Out of curiosity, I check my banking app.

Holy shit.

He’s already deposited the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

I immediately transfer it into Josh’s Columbia account. There’s already a hundred grand in there from my savings, for his tuition, books and anything else he might need. But this will give us a buffer for next year, and the next, while I continue to save for the full amount.

We could have applied for a loan. A lot of people do. We still might. But I loved the idea of him being free and clear. I just want so badly for him to soar.

And maybe he actually will.

Wow. He’s really going to Columbia. It still seems surreal. He’s going to college. I’m sure he’s already transferred the money back into our father’s bank account. He’s having fun with his friends and the detectives haven’t called.

For the first time in a long time, I allow myself to relax a little.

Hell, maybe I will have fun in the Hamptons. Drinking obscenely overpriced champagne, being wined and dined, dancing. It doesn’t sound so bad. I can’t even remember a time when I had a whole weekend to just go with the flow and be pampered. In fact, I’ve never been pampered.

I’ve been very fortunate to have the success I’ve had, but growing up poor, you never take these things for granted. I spent shitloads on this apartment (and I’m still paying it off, which I will be for life), but other than that, I’ve never been frivolous.

Maybe frivolous feels good, who knows.

Checking the time, I notice it’s already 2:54. I still need to shower and get ready. At least I’m already packed, with my outfit laid out by Cleo.

More butterflies take flight in my stomach when I think about the limo picking me up in just over an hour and a half. I’m not sure why I’m nervous. I don’t need to be.

I do a quick Google search. For now, I have the upper hand. Alexander Maddox won’t be able to search for me since he doesn’t know who I am.

Alexander J.B. Maddox IV, 29, is the oldest son of A.J. Benjamin Maddox III. Alexander inherited the CEO position of Maddox Enterprises from his late father, who in turn inherited it from his father, who inherited it from his father. Maddox Enterprises was established in 1894 by Alexander’s great grandfather Alexander J.B. Maddox, and, since its inception, has consistently been among the top ten highest-grossing investment groups in the country. It is rated as the ninth most profitable investment firm in New York State history.

Okay, so when Cleo described him as a multi-billionaire she wasn’t joking.

Additionally, Alexander Maddox is on the Board of several prominent Fortune 500 companies, including Invested Enterprises, which is owned and run by Alexander’s three brothers, Cash (CEO), Noah (CFO) and Colton (COO).

Alexander Maddox is famously reclusive. Little is known about his dating history, which he keeps fiercely private. Most recently, he’s been photographed with Margot Russo, one of New York’s most sought-after wedding planners, but whether or not they dated was not officially confirmed and they haven’t been seen together in at least six months. According to socialite Sydney Valentine, who claims to have “shared time” with Mr. Maddox, he’s a “commitment-phobe” and “has a personality that’s as cold as ice…but in the sack he’s a f#&*!ng inferno.”

Yikes.

I scroll through the few images of Alexander online. There’s one of him at a charity event last year, but he’s in the distance. One of him in his office, standing with his arms folded, photographed for an article in Forbes. And one of him on a red carpet with a woman. She’s clinging to his arm, dressed in a puffy beige gown that looks like a slightly burnt meringue. She’s smiling widely but Alexander looks pissed off.

Is this the ex?

I zoom in a little.

There’s no denying he’s handsome. Okay, like, insanely so. His hair is black. His eyes are strikingly blue. He’s tall and fills out his tux like…well, like he’s got serious muscles hidden under all those buttoned-up layers.

With his looks and all that money, it would be easy to be intimidated by him. But I make a decision here and now…not to be intimidated by him.

It’s not a real date. I’ve already been paid. I promised to put on a good show and I will.

For a split second I think about darting over to Saks Fifth Ave and buying something linen and conservative. The clothes Cleo insisted on packing are the opposite of demure.