A Billionaire With Benefits

“Let me just talk to this person over there,” Lynne whispered to Mikaela, referring to a middle-aged couple a few feet away from them.

“Why? Who are they?”

“It’s who is he. That old geezer is a horny bastard and he’s been sending signals. Don’t worry, I won’t sleep with him,” Lynne joked. “I just need him to invest. Then, hello promotion and suite with a window and a couch.”

Mikaela watched as Lynne sauntered her way through the crowd, enjoying the stares by the men and the room, and the stares of envious or annoyed women. She smiled to herself, wondering if she would ever be that confident. Lynne knew how to entice and Mikaela thought that on the other hand that she had the charm of a potato, maybe fries at least. She couldn’t resist fries anyway…

***

He was bored. Well, slightly bored. There were numerous attractive women and women who weren’t so attractive, but they had assets that would make any superficial man happy. Women were so easy to read. He looked at each one as if he were studying flora. Every woman had the same likes and dislikes, they wanted to be assured of many things, their insecurities warped from time to time, and they had a compulsion for material things.

He could think of so many negatives and few positives while he sipped red wine, trying to pay attention to the lovely woman wearing a revealing little black dress, who, unfortunately was the wife of one of the bank’s managers. She saw him and gave him that look and he sent one of disinterest. He had no intention of ruining his reputation as an upstanding businessman. Models and celebrities or women who weren’t of this circle were an exemption. Those he could enjoy freely, without guilt or thought of business concerns.

He didn’t want to attend this little cocktail party that consisted of three hundred people, preferring to be in his house to catch up on a series he had been enjoying as of late. His good friend, Michael, had other plans. Michael Smith was one of his master’s degree buddies, who also had a good eye for women. The man was almost never alone, just like he was. In fact, it was Michael who introduced Jessica to him. It was a slight miscalculation on his friend’s part, but that was how the dating worked. No one would fit the mold perfectly.

He wasn’t here on the prowl, though. He was here to meet up with other collegiate buddies who happened to be in Malibu. It was just an excellent opportunity to meet up with Malibu society as well. The bank was an international one, and it started in Malibu. The event was small, but it was well-meaning; a reunion of sorts for very important clients and upcoming big accounts. He had a few million stashed in a two key accounts, for which the bank was grateful for. Justin still preferred the Swiss Bank, though.

He didn’t quite like the canapes they served, so he enjoyed the mediocre wine instead. He was a man of fine taste, and his sisters teased him for being such a stuck-up businessman, from food to wine to women, it was complaint or disfavor. “You’ll never find a wife,” they would tease him.

He wasn’t after a wife. He was after pleasure. California was full of it. He would move away from Malibu soon, maybe to Los Angeles, to be closer to one office. Then he would move again in a few months’ time, this time in New York. He

never stayed put for long and he had gotten used to the luxurious nomadic life that he had put himself in.

Justin suddenly wanted to leave the party. It was rather boring, and it was too early to have a nightcap in the hotel bar. He found himself casually leaning against a wall, quietly looking around while still pretending that he was listening to this pretty but dull woman’s stories about her travels and her favorite Michelin-rated restaurants across Europe. He had tried them all, he had wanted to say, but he kept quiet, seeing someone else across him, standing alone, diddling on her phone, and obviously pretending that she didn’t quite care that she was alone.

He excused himself, saying he had to see a good friend, leaving the woman’s mouth agape, and she couldn’t refuse. Who could say anything to stop Justin Henderson? No one. So he walked through the crowd, the women eyeing him once more and he smiled at some of them, just for kicks.

Justin had one goal in mind at that was to get to the woman who wore a cobalt blue dress. From afar, she looked pleasant to the eyes. The color of her dress accentuated her dark skin and her curls, and her heels complimented her legs, making her seem taller than she was supposed to be. He estimated her to be around five-foot-three and thought she was barely twenty-five years old. He liked making assumptions and delighted in them when he found these correct.

He approached her calmly, like he did to any woman. “Hello,” he began simply, watching her scroll on her Facebook feed.

She was startled by him, her eyes widening as she looked up from her phone. She almost jumped. He smiled at her.

“Uh, hi?” she looked around, unsure if he was talking to her. “Are you talkin’ to me?”

He almost scoffed at her. “I didn’t know you were a fan of Robert de Niro.”

Her expression looked blank. He had wanted her to smile, but apparently she wasn’t that well educated with pop culture. Well, that was a sad thought.

“Just a line from one of my favorite movies,” he told her, “and yes, I’m talking to you.”

“W-well, I don’t work here,” she said.

“I can tell.”

“How?”

“Because you looked uncomfortable while I was looking at you.”

“Oh damn, please don’t tell me you like stalking people you don’t know.”

“You flatter yourself too much,” he said with a smile.

“Are you from here? Your accent’s kind of off.”

His eyes narrowed. “Off?”

“Not quite American.”