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Braxton--Last Morning
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One Weekend with the Billionaire Julia--Drive Home
The streets are crowded as the sedan winds its way slowly toward my apartment building. There are lots of cars everywhere as people hurry to make it to work on time. Once we are downtown, the sidewalks are full as well. People pass by quickly, briefcases or attaché cases in their hands, some of them on their phones, others looking straight ahead as they try to get to their destinations on time without interacting with any other human beings.I understand the need to keep to myself. For the last two years, I have walked the streets near my apartment, on the way to the market or to run other errands, without truly looking at anyone unless I absolutely have to. I have told myself it is because I’m in a hurry, but that’s not really the case. The truth of the matter is I’ve been scared to get close to anyone. I’ve been afraid that, if I were to make friends with another woman, I’d be tempted to tell her the truth about my empty marriage. And there’s no way in the world I would ever conside
One Weekend with the Billionaire Braxton--Office
I sit in my office, staring out the window at everyone else who is working, while I do nothing. For a very long time. Normally, by 10:00, I have already done more work than most people will do all day long. But not today. Today, I can’t help but think about Julia, how she has arrived back in the apartment she lives in with Jeff. And Jeff himself--sitting over there in his office, right across from mine, where I can see him.He looks… bothered. He doesn’t look like his old cocky self. He certainly isn’t staring at his phone, the way he does most days. Instead, he is staring at his computer. But not in that excited way he does when he is watching pornography at work. Instead, he is staring at his computer blankly, the same way that I am staring at him. If he has noticed me staring at him, he hasn’t given me any indication of such. He simply sits there, a disheartened look on his face,I want to speak to him. I will speak to him. It’s difficult to get my thoughts together because I want
One Weekend with the Billionaire Braxton--Meeting with the Husband
Close up, Jeff Thompson looks even more different than he had at a distance, when he was in his office, working. Or, at least, pretending to work. Normally, whenever he is in my presence, he has a cocky attitude, like he wants to prove he’s just as good as I am, that he is worthy to be in the same room as me.Today, he is different. His eyes have bags beneath them, as if he hasn’t slept. His suit is disheveled, as if it hasn’t been ironed. I imagine that’s because he hasn’t ironed it himself, and Julia wasn’t there to do it for him, though I can’t imagine that Julia is behind in her ironing, and there weren’t other options.He sits down in the chair across from me, a smug look on his face. I want to know what he is thinking. Does he feel defeated? Or does he realize he has some leverage here? Jeff Thompson has the only thing in the world I want that I cannot buy.Except… everything has a price, doesn’t it?“Thanks for meeting with me, Thompson,” I say, trying to meet his eyes. I have
One Weekend with the Billionaire Julia--Home
I have changed into one of my usual outfits, not one of the designer outfits that Braxton purchased for me, but the sort of thing I would normally wear on a Monday. I spend hours cleaning up the apartment. It is amazing to me how messy one person can be over the course of just a few days, but it seems clear that Jeff spent most of the weekend in the apartment, angry. He was making messes just so that I would have to clean them up.As I carry a load of laundry down to the laundry room, I think about how nice it would be to live in a house like Braxton’s where, not only is there a laundry room on the main floor and the second floor where all of the bedrooms are, there are servants to do this sort of thing for me. At Braxton’s home, I wouldn’t have to lift a finger. All I’d have to do is ask if I needed something specific cleaned, or simply drop the clothing into a hamper, and it would be magically returned to me, probably the same day. Something told me, even if I was careless and rude
One Weekend with the Billionaire Julia--Meatloaf
Waiting for Jeff to get home from work is excruciating, especially since he is late. Normally, he gets off at 5:00, and the commute takes about an hour and a half. I can usually count on him walking in sometime around 6:30. Unless he’s stopped for a drink or something like that, which happens frequently enough. At least, I’d always assumed when he’d sent me a text to let me know he was stopping at a bar that that’s what he was doing. Now, knowing about his infidelity, I have to wonder if maybe that wasn’t what he was doing at all. I am also questioning all of those late nights he’d spent at the office or meetings that had been scheduledThe meatloaf has been done for about two hours. Normally, I wait for Jeff before I eat. Tonight, I am not hungry. I eat anyway. I decide not to wait for him because he doesn’t deserve that. Whatever it is he’s doing, whether it’s grabbing a drink or two because he’s stressed, or paying some whore to lick her pussy, I don’t deserve to have to sit here
One Weekend with the Billionaire Braxton--In the Art Room
I have a scotch in my hand. It’s my third. I should probably slow down. I don’t want to wake up with a hangover, but it’s hard not to drown my sorrow in alcohol when I feel like shit.I’m sitting in the art room I had put in for Julia, looking at the paintings she did when she was here, looking at the stool we were sitting on when we made love in this room. She’s been gone less than twenty-four hours, and I already miss her like hell.I look down at my phone. I sent her a text about an hour ago. “How are you?” is all it says, but I am hoping she will respond and let me know how it’s going. I have an associate located in the apartment next to hers so that, if Jeff gets violent, that person can intervene. Most of the time, that will be Stringer, but right now it’s someone else so that he could be home with his wife for a while. It will be a rotating assignment, one I’ve delegated to someone else. I trust all of my people to make sure that Julia is kept safe, but I want to talk to her my
One Weekend with the Billionaire Julia--Next Morning
I hear the alarm going off and brace myself. I’ve lain awake for most of the night, not able to sleep. Thinking about Braxton, dreading Jeff’s fury. He said very little to me last night, which was unusual and unsettling. Normally, Jeff doesn’t hesitate to let me know when he is upset with my choices, but last night, his silence was deafening.Now, I expect the same routine we’ve gone through every morning for as long as I can remember. Jeff pushing my clothes aside, climbing on top of me, taking a few minutes to do his business, and then getting up to go to work.Instead, things are different this morning, and I don’t know what to think of it. He rolls over and looks at me, his head propped on his hand, his elbow on the pillow. “Do you want to have sex?” he asks me, still half asleep.I look at him, wondering what will happen if I say no. I don’t want to say yes, that is for sure, but then, he’s literally never asked me this question before. It’s as if he thinks all of those times bef
One Weekend with the Billionaire Braxton--Phone Call
I haven’t slept all night. Instead, I’ve tossed and turned, thinking only of Julia. I don’t know how I’m going to get through the day. I have several important meetings, but I may have to reschedule them. I can’t think about work, accounts, personnel matters, anything except for my sweet Julia.I am in the backseat, staring aimlessly out the window as I make the long drive into work when my phone rings. I jump immediately because it is the special ringtone I have given to Julia. I fish my phone out of my pocket. “Hello?” I say, praying that it’s her and not Jeff.“Braxton?”The sound of her voice melts my insides. Even though she sounds like she might be crying, I am relieved to know that she is okay, that she has the capacity of calling me. Overnight, I’ve had all sorts of awful images in my mind. Despite my people being stationed right next door, I imagine her being beaten or killed, or Jeff tying her up so she can’t move, let alone call me. Now, to know that she is okay, at least e
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- One Weekend with the Billionaire Epilogue--Julia--Europe
- One Weekend with the Billionaire Julia--Going Home
- One Weekend with the Billionaire Braxton--Standing By
- One Weekend with the Billionaire Julia--Hospital
- One Weekend with the Billionaire Braxton--News
- One Weekend with the Billionaire Julia--Fall
- One Weekend with the Billionaire Julia--Back
- One Weekend with the Billionaire Braxton--Alone
- One Weekend with the Billionaire Julia--Packed
