A Billionaire With Benefits

Chapter1

She had that beguiling, wide smile that many loved to see. One would expect to see that kind of smile grace the covers of magazines, billboards, and maybe on those pesky YouTube ads. That smile couldn’t be found there, however. Her smile was constantly found in a coffee shop, at Uncommon Grounds, a home-grown brand that had given her a job for the last year and a half.

Mikaela Johnson enjoyed her work as a barista and had been recently promoted as shift supervisor. She didn’t want to take it, she knew she wouldn’t be working there forever, but upon the insistence of the octogenarian owner himself, she relented.

The spunky twenty-four-year-old had bright, hazel-colored eyes, as well as her trademark grin. On her nose was a smattering of freckles which was pleasantly surprising against her umber-toned skin. Her black hair came in thick waves that hung on her shoulders, suiting her heart shaped face. She preferred this to long hair, and it didn’t look too tomboyish either. Just a good wash and wear for her work schedule.

The day began like any other day, a day she had been used to. Mikaela loved the smell of coffee, but she wasn’t a heavy drinker. She made excellent drip coffee, though, which was one of the reasons why Uncommon Grounds didn’t want to let her go.

She was glad that they didn’t. It meant she was valued and loved by her peers and bosses. It was important for her to be respected. She had worked honestly and judiciously and was pleased her efforts had worked. If her parents were still alive right then, they would have been proud. Mikaela thought about the other goals she hadn’t achieved yet. She was going to get there someday; she wasn’t quite sure when, but someday. It was a promise she made to herself and a promise she made in front of her parents’ graves. Morbid as it seemed, it was a source of motivation. There was nowhere else to go but up, right?

While the owner of Uncommon Grounds didn’t want her to be just an ordinary barista, his patrons still wanted to see the bright young woman serve their coffee. If they couldn’t remember her name, they remembered her grin, which was good enough for Mikaela. To the keen observer, she wasn’t extraordinarily pretty, but her features were well proportioned, except for that mouth that loved to turn up at the corners. When she smiled, her existing looks magnified even more, rendering her at her most attractive.

“Don’t you want to be a model?” a patron asked her today.

She shook her head as she received his card to swipe.

“I don’t think that’s going to work for me. I’d like to be in the medical industry.”

“Yeah, you’d cure people with that personality of yours,” the elderly gentleman said as she handed him his card and receipt.

“I’mma just serve it to you, all right?” she told him. She liked Mr. Jordan. He was a former NASA technician and lived in a nearby retirement home, but was ambulatory and enjoyed taking walks along the beach which was just a few blocks down the street. Uncommon Grounds had fascinating patrons in the two years she had worked here.

She had moved from Washington a few years ago after the deaths of her family members. Mikaela had hoped for a fresh start after enduring difficulties in the wake of their passing. It was a slow, painful process and one of those rare times that she found it difficult to smile.

Getting hired in a fast-food joint was just the start as a nineteen-year-old living all alone in California. It was where she’d met one of her closest friends, Lynne Young. Fast forward years later, she was working in a coffee shop and Lynne had become an account agent for a global bank.

Lynne had wanted her to work in a bank, but she enjoyed the aura in the coffee shop. The pay wasn’t amazing, but it was decent and it gave her time to teach kids dance at a local studio on weekends. She wasn’t paid for that, but she counted it as a sort of giving back to the community labor.

“Hi.” She gave her trademark bright smile, facing a customer. “Welcome to Uncommon Grounds; what’ll you be having for today?”

He was someone she hadn’t seen yet. A new face. He was a nonchalant-looking man, wearing a charcoal gray suit and sunglasses. He scanned the menu board and she quickly gave him a copy on the counter.

“Here, to make things easier,” she said, pushing the menu in front of him.

“I like making things difficult,” he said in a quiet voice. He had a wonderful inflection, she realized. There was a moment of silence. “I’ll have the caramel macchiato with low fat milk. Easy on the caramel drizzle.”

Mikaela wondered what he meant by what he said, but she nodded anyway, ringing the order up. “Can I have your name? Would you like a membership card? Points get you free stuff,” she said. He shook his head and paid for it in cash. “Justin.”

“I’ll call your name in a few.”

He said nothing and proceeded to an empty chair. He sat down and faced the window, patiently waiting for his order as he diddled on his phone. Mikaela thought he wasn’t the friendly type and he probably wasn’t from this side of town either.

“Drink for Justin,” she called out moments later.

The tall, brooding-looking customer came up to the counter, said a quick thanks, and left a hundred-dollar tip after taking his first sip of Uncommon Grounds’ caramel macchiato. They made their caramel drizzle from scratch, and

it was one of their most popular drinks.

Her eyes widened, seeing the bill on their communal tip box.

“Did you see that?” her co-worker, a trainee named Kimberly, asked, clearly amazed. “He left a hundred. A hundred buck tip for coffee that only cost him three fifty.”

“Good: you’re starting to recognize the prices for our products,” Mikaela told her.

“Are people always that generous here?” Kimberly said, still awed.

Mikaela shrugged a bit. “He was a weird one. And he must’ve really liked his first sip. Hooray for Uncommon Grounds.”

Her ten-hour shift was a breeze. It was past five in the afternoon when her work hours finally ended. Her phone rang just as she had taken off her apron.

“Where are you?” that familiar, high pitched, yet comforting voice asked her.

“Work. Well, it just ended,” Mikaela told Lynne.

“Listen,” Lynne began, “so there’s this party this weekend. It’s a cocktail event—”

“And you need to borrow a dress?” Mikaela teased.

“Sadly, no. I got a new one, because this is an investor’s event. Okay, where was I? I need a date.”

This surprised Mikaela. Lynne almost always had a date wherever she went. The blonde bombshell was a hit with men with her honeyed voice and Southern accent. She and Lynne were opposites in many ways, but managed to become very close.

“You need a date?” Mikaela laughed. “Why don’t you get one from the party?”

“I need the cheerleader effect,” Lynne said earnestly. “There’ll be a lot of men there, and it’s a manly world, after all.”

“Don’t you have friends from the bank? Or the banks?”

“I need someone they don’t know.”

“Ouch. I just might get popular someday.”

“As the world’s number one barista?” Lynne teased. “Or as America’s best nurse?”

“Har har.”

“Come on, Mikaela. Saturday will be your break day, right? I need to show you off, too. It’d be unfair if they only saw me. We’re both single and ready to mingle with the big shots.”

“Are you husband hunting?”

“Just potential dates. They’re sure to have money. Or if they have significant debts, I’m sure they have other assets.”

“Oh my God, you’re starting to think like them,” Mikaela said in mock horror.

“I’m thinking for my future,” Lynne corrected. “So what do you say?”