The Billionaire and Me - Complete Series: BWWM Alpha Billionaire Romance (3 page)

The jet lifestyle took the two of us all over the world.  I saw more places worldwide than I ever imagined I would.  Some of the places I enjoyed going to while others I didn
’
t.  I didn
’
t like the ones where the people made an issue out of my skin color as some countries and people were prone to do.  People thinking it was okay to touch my hair was a big no-no.

In some places I was sure Mr. Covington didn
’
t like it either.  He at least viewed me as a person and not some sort of petting zoo.  He probably didn
’
t like the places that commented on his light eyes or think of him as that
“
token white guy
”
as some places were prone to do.

As always some people were kinder in some areas than they were in others.  I can
’
t say I had any place that I truly hated.  Just some that I liked more than others.

In just a short time I had seen Japan, Europe, Canada, and more.  It seemed the only place I might not be seeing is Antarctica.  I jokingly thought to myself that it would be a surprise if Mr. Covington didn
’
t have some sort of deal with the penguins that lived there!  Imagine how
those
business deals would go down!  They would need an interpreter, a form of money as they couldn
’
t just pay him in fish, and a whole bunch of other stuff I hadn
’
t quite thought of yet.  I could have easily burst out laughing at the most inappropriate times at how creative my imagination got with Mr. Covington bartering with penguins in Antartica.

During this time Mr. Covington became friendlier and more social towards me.  There were a few times he invited me out to dinner.  Breakfast and lunch were often provided by the hotel and I imagine in his world inviting someone to something so informal was not really done.

Myself, however, I was perfectly fine going out for breakfast and lunch.  Sometimes having an informal setting was a great place and time to get to really know someone and how they are.  But then again, I was not from Mr. Covington
’
s world.  He could slip into mine but I could not enter his.  In some ways I wondered if he ever wished he could.  He had lived a fish bowl lifestyle for all of his life I imagined having a simplistic lifestyle like how he viewed mine would be pretty tempting.

As he appeared to relax it made me wonder if at first he were just testing me to see what type of person I was.  In a way I couldn
’
t blame him for that as no one would certainly want some sort of crazy person working for them!  I imagined he was or could have been worried that I or someone else could steal secrets from him that could damage the company or his reputation.

Gradually the tasks I had been assigned moved from general secretarial work and began to become more person.  Mr. Covington even seemed to want to talk to me more.  The talks weren
’
t just about business but rather more personal things.

One day while sitting in a hotel lobby Mr. Covington brought up his family which surprised me. 
“
I
’
m the only one left.  Sometimes it feels like I
’
m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders.
”

That statement reminded me of the cartoon where a person looked down to the scale and instead of a number saw the planet Earth.  The caption was
“
No wonder my shoulders hurt.
”

As soon as the imagine popped into my mind it went away.

“
You
’
re doing so well at it, I
’
m sure your family would be quite proud of you if they could see you.
”

Mr. Covington shrugged and managed a nod soon after.

If I didn
’
t know better I would have thought he needed a counselor of sorts.  As far as I knew he was not prone to depression but everyone felt sad once and a while.  Everyone also missed their parents from time to time.

Finally I decided to take a chance and voice what I was thinking,
“
If I may be so bold it seems to me that you want more of a companion instead of just a personal assistant.
”

Mr. Covington looked at me.  For a moment he actually looked surprised that I would say such a thing.

I continued,
“
You
’
re going all over the world all the time.  If you had someone back home I
’
m sure they
’
d miss you.
”

He nodded a little at that.  As if sensing that I had something else to say he said,
“
Go on.
”

“
It seems that in a way you
’
re lucky that no one will be missing you when you
’
re going from place to place worldwide.  You don
’
t have any real stressors that could be holding you back.  I think if I left no one would really be missing me.
”

“
I
’
d miss you if you were gone,
”
Mr. Covington blurted out.

I could feel my heart skip a beat.  He would miss me?  The Mr. Blake Covington who could have any woman on this blue marble planet we call Earth would be missing
me
?  Some black woman who was a former college administrative assistant?

For a second I thought he was just saying that until I looked at him and saw his attitude was genuine.

He
really would
be missing me if I left.

I was not one to get flustered easily but after what he said I certainly was.  I felt myself trying to think of something to say but no words could come out.  Even the words inside my mind refused to connect and come together!  What was I going to do let alone say?

I had certainly dug myself into a nice pit that I didn
’
t know how to get out of.

Oh boy.

The situation between Mr. Covington admitting that he would miss me if I left had seemed to pass.  He never brought it up again nor did I.

The trip back to what people often called
“
the lower forty eight
”
was rather quiet.  We had landed in New York and were put up in a big and expensive looking hotel.

I swear my room had a man eating bed inside of it.  If I so much as tried to lay down on it I swore it was beginning to swallow me up.  It must
’
ve been in the mood for American food.

The room itself was nice with a flat screen TV that sat across from the bed. 

The windows were large and allowed for plenty of cheerful light to enter.  The curtains that covered them were white in color.

Along the way I had heard that Mr. Covington had been invited to some big gala in New York City.  I figured while he was away on this gala it would give me time to rest.  Jet lag was starting to set in and whoever found a cure for it would make a fortune.

However, fate had other plans for me.  As I wanted to rest for that evening there was a knock on the door.

I wrestled myself out of that man eating bed while calling
“
I
’
ll be right there!
”

It was something out of a Loony Toons cartoon by the time I was able to free myself from the bed
’
s grasp.  Once I was steady on my feet I went to the door and opened it to find a well-dressed man standing on the other side.

In one hand he held a large envelope.  His other arm was raised high as he held something that looked like a person
’
s dry cleaning.  I imagined he must have been going to each door down the hallway and delivering goods to the person.  I admit I was curious as to what could be inside the black bag.  It was long enough it had to be a fancy dress.  One for someone going to the gala, no doubt.

“
Miss Amanda Granger?
” 
He asked.

“
Yes.
”

“
Mr. Covington has instructed me to give you this,
”
he thrust the envelope out towards my chest which I quickly took.  Before I could thank him he added,
“
And this.
”

I could
’
ve gasped when the heavy black bag was soon thrust upon me.  I was able to catch it but it sure did feel heavy.  What was he wanting me to do?  Dispose of someone
’
s remains?

“
Will that be all?
” 
He suddenly asked in that formal stiffness he had been trained to show.

“
Yes, thank you,
”
I quickly said.

My hands were full and I didn
’
t dare kick the door shut behind me.  Instead I used my hip to close it until I heard the door knob
click
and I was certain I was once again safe inside.

Part of me wondered
why
I was receiving these.  Did Mr. Covington expect me to deliver them to someone?  If so, why didn
’
t he just tell the man to deliver them himself?

Just in case that whatever was inside the black bag was for someone else I carefully set it on the bed and looked over the envelope.

Written in a fancy font was my name in large red letters.  I flipped open the envelope and pulled out a lavishly decorated card.  It was covered in gold leaf and red ink.  The lettering was typed up in the same font as was on the front of the envelope.  The writing was an invite from Mr. Covington saying that I was invited to attend and the designer dress was something to wear to the gala.

To say I was surprised would be quite the understatement!  I was being invited to such an expensive gala!

I debated about going.  I really did.  I thought about attending as I didn
’
t want to disappoint Mr. Covington but at the same time I would very much be a fish out of water.  I didn
’
t know anything of these people.  To them I was probably just the help!  I really didn
’
t think that I could fit in at all!

I wrestled with myself and my ideas up until the very last minute when I finally thought that I should go and attend.

The dress that was loaned to me fit quite well.  It was a cream colored dress with a low neckline and no sleeves.  It was also covered in acres of pearls, sequins, and beads.  I knew the name of the designer but couldn
’
t think of it right off hand.  It
’
funny how things like that work out.

I was about to head on down to the gala when Mr. Covington showed up on the other side of the door.  He smiled when he saw me and offered to be my escort.

“
I
’
m surprised that you invited me,
”
I said honestly.

“
Why?
” 
Mr. Covington asked.

“
It seems something that you
’
d be more socially adept for than I am.
”

“
You
’
re a person and there
’
s no reason why you can
’
t attend!
”

I didn
’
t really have an answer for that but I thanked him and allowed him to take me into the room where the gala was being held.

An orchestra began to play an older sounding song and Mr. Blake asked me to dance with him.  I wasn
’
t much of a slow dancer but I was willing to give it a try if it made him happy.  It would also give me time to size up my surroundings and everything in it.

As we danced Mr. Blake began to speak up and say things that I hadn
’
t expected to hear him say.

“
I really like you, Amanda,
”
he said.  It was the first time he used my first name which surprised me.

“
Thank you, Mr. Covington,
”
I replied.

“
Blake.
”

“
Well, thank you, Blake.
”

“
Amanda, I want you to stay on as my companion.
”

Companion.  That word alone surprised me.  I had expected him to say anything but companion.  I had expected secretary, partner, anything but companion.

“
I like you Amanda, I really do.  I want us to be together.
”