Her Blazing Billionaire

Chapter 7: Becca

I greeted the morning in a conflicted mood and the questions that haunted me the night before remained. However, I couldn’t spend my day the way I’d spent my night; thinking about Gareth. I remind myself that I had work to do as I caught myself slipping into the pattern of thinking about him. I began to think of simply leaving and returning to New York. No matter how much that appealed to me, I couldn't do so. We had a meeting with the group that couldn’t be canceled because, as an assistant, I knew I wasn't integral to the meeting. But I also knew that I had to be there.

The meeting went smoothly. Gareth was there of course, but he kept personal matters and business separate. I felt almost unreasonably grateful for that as it meant that I didn’t have to talk to him immediately. To be fair, the moment I spotted him this morning, I almost caved, but I held on to my resolve.

"Do you have the amended agreement?" he asked, despite him trying to keep business and personal matters from mixing, I could detect some warmth in his tone. However, I remained cold, still unwilling to reciprocate the warmth. Although my tone and demeanor remained cold, I couldn’t stop myself from being drawn to Gareth.

Within the confines of the conference room, his woodsy scent seemed to curl itself around me, until I was hyper aware of every move he made. I soon found myself watching him as he spoke to the representatives and detailed every bit of the proposed contract. Unsurprisingly, the deal went through and both parties signed the contract. Watching him in his element made him seem unspeakably attractive.

"I'm going to New York," my voice cut through the silence. Once the contract was signed, the representatives took their copy and left. So, my words were spoken only to a Gareth who was still flushed from his victory. I wanted to examine his face for his reaction to my words, but I stopped myself. I didn’t want to face the possibility of him being unaffected.

Without waiting for his response, I left, heading straight to my room and packing all my belongings. It felt cowardly to erase the opportunity for him to say something, but my fear of what he might say has outweighed my bravery.

However, I couldn’t avoid him for long. As I walked out with my luggage, Gareth was waiting for me with a hopeful look on his face. I stopped in my tracks, unable to hide the impatience I felt.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, letting my barely repressed anger leak out in my voice.

"I just want to talk," he responded.

"Well, I don't want to talk to you," I said.

"Okay, please let my driver take you to the airport," he said, and I could feel my brows furrow as I looked at him. My expectation that he would stop me from leaving was dashed and the cool facade I’d put in place cracked.

"No, thanks. I'll take a taxi."

"Taxis are very unsafe, but a private car isn't. Plus, there's a present in the car for you." He looked uneasy as he laid out an argument I couldn’t fault, despite my anger. His last sentence seemed to trail off, rendering me speechless despite the rage bubbling within.

"Okay, thank you," I responded before getting into the already waiting car. Immediately I got in, a pretty gift box caught my eye. It was red with a silver ribbon around it.

Once I opened the gift box, I saw an ornate wooden box. It was a music box and when I lifted the lid, a familiar tune filled the air. My eyes grew blurry with tears as I sunk into the memories of listening to this song with my father.

I had only mentioned the song once, and yet Gareth remembered enough to get me a thoughtful gift. This knowledge brought me out of my haze of anger, as I wondered if I had been too hasty when I decided not to listen to his explanation.

"Turn around," I told the driver impatiently, and he obliged. Fortunately, we hadn’t gone far, so I was able to catch up to Gareth as he sat alone at the hotel bar looking pensive.

"Listen, Becca, I'm so sorry that I haven't told you just how crazy I am about you. But I am crazy about you. You're all I think about. The idea of not being with you physically hurts me, and if that happened because of something I did, I don't know if I would be able to forgive myself." Gareth didn’t waste any time in speaking once he saw that I was back.

"But that woman…" I said.

"It's not like that. She's an ex. I have never given her the impression that I would like to get back together. I promise." His words came out in a rush.

"Then why would she think that she had a chance? You must have done or said something to make her think that would be okay." I pointed out, despite how angry I seemed on the surface, most of my rage had cooled. Now, I was just waiting for him to give me an answer I could accept. Something to make my anger truly go away.

"I have no idea. I've never misled her in any way. She's just very aggressive naturally and I'm sorry that you had to deal with her," he says with an earnest look on his face. This time, I chose to believe him.

"Okay, I believe you," I responded, saying a silent prayer that he wouldn't let me down. At my words, he let out a loud whoop and swept me off my feet in a hug.

"Will you spend the weekend with me instead of going to New York? We can do whatever you want," he said calmly, and I agreed. It didn’t take long for him to move my luggage into a room and I smiled, secure in the knowledge that he wanted me here.