Rock Star Billionaire

“Oh Aria.” Stacey hugged me. “That sounds bad. You should not feel objectified in any relationship. If it’s a power-play, it’s not a real relationship. Definitely not a healthy one. I can’t believe I am saying this, but I think you need to break it off. I know he is helping your mom out – and he was really nice to you yesterday, I spoke to him on the phone—“

“You and everyone in that bar,” I scoffed.

“If I had known about all this I would have told him stop calling back and turned your phone off. It just seemed sweet at the time, like he was concerned about you.”

I thought about that for a second. “I don’t doubt that he is. Concerned, I mean. But I think he does not understand the concept of boundaries and is controlling beyond belief. It’s starting to feel way too suffocating.”

“Then get out of it,” Stacey repeated. “We will figure something out for your mom. Maybe I can take out the loan in my name? My dad could help co-sign it. We’d just have to get him really drunk one day—”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Stacey. I’m sorry for fighting with you the other day. And no, I got myself into this mess, I’ll find a way to get myself out of it. But it was extremely sweet of you to offer. You’re honestly doing more than enough by just being there. I couldn’t love you more for it.”

We both sat for a long time hugging each other. By the end of it, I had decided for sure that I wanted to break things off. I was not used to being objectified and doing a man’s bidding, and whatever he was doing for me was not worth my dignity.

Zayden and I had to be over.

Chapter 8

Zayden

To my utter horror, I had gotten the dreaded “surprise” visit from my mother a few days after Aria had stormed out of my office. I already had a lot to worry about: Aria had called out of work all week, making me increasingly anxious. If she hadn’t made those drunk calls on Friday night, I was ready to show up at her apartment unannounced and give her an earful. How could she have done that to me? A whole week? What was I even paying her for, if she could simply choose to disappear whenever she damn well please?

On top of that my mother decided to just show up, no warning, and thought that would make me happy. Likely story— she very well knew how I would react to the visit— yet she was my mother and I had to at the very least try to not be a complete monster. Right now she was going on and on about my chef’s inability to cook the steak to the perfect medium-rare. She was a terrible cook herself, but loved to criticize everything other people did.

“My, my, how hard is it to get a simple steak right?” She frowned at the dinner table, while I wished, cringing, that the chef couldn’t hear.

“I think it’s delicious.” I shrugged and took a huge bite visibly savoring it. “Sean’s the best cook I know.”

That had the desired effect of making her wince. “How can you say that? When your own mother is sitting

right across you?”

“Fine, if it’s all bothering you so much you can just take over the kitchen while you’re here and I’ll send Sean on a paid vacation. He deserves it.”

She gasped. “What is wrong with you, Zay? Why do you insist of treating the help as though they are equals?”

“Because they are,” I snapped. “I have my job of running the bank and Sean has his of cooking for us. I don’t see how one is any less than the other.”

“You know your father used to have the same attitude and that was his eventual downfall—”

“Right, he got a stroke because he was too nice.” I rolled my eyes.

“He was careless and trusting of everybody. It made him weak.”

“He wasn’t very trusting of you now was he?” I spat.

Her face went completely red. We had never really discussed what had happened between her and my dad. After I had found out, I’d simply started distancing myself from her, without any kind of confrontation. She must have figured it out, in any case, but it was something neither of us ever brought up. The fact that I had just said that was akin to slapping her across the face. Her eyes were burning with tears and she was completely speechless for a long time.

She eventually said, “You don’t know anything about what was between your father and me.”

“I know enough. I know why you are not in his will and why you guys were having trouble before he passed away. I know what you did.”

She began to cry and it gave me an odd sort of sinister pleasure. “It’s not like that. I made some mistakes, and I am still paying for it.”

“Hardly,” I scoffed. “I have provided you with everything you need. You’re still living on dad’s money, and a pretty damn leisurely life at that, I might add.”

Wiping her eyes with the napkin, she added, “There are other ways to pay for your mistakes than financially. Not a day goes by when I don’t regret my actions and wrongdoings to your father. He was an incredible man and deserved better. I realize this now.”

“Well too bad, it’s about six years too late. Longer, but god knows by how much. I bet you were never faithful to him.”