Maid For The Tycoon: A BWWM Billionaire Romance (4 page)

“Join me in the cab. It can take you home after it drops me off,” insisted Jenna.

“Back to Brooklyn from Manhattan? Won’t Spencer question the fare?”

“It’s my treat.”

“Save your money Jenna. I’m happy to use public transport.”

Jenna hopped in the cab her friend has flagged and felt a wave of sadness wash over her. She made a silent wish that Kelly would one day get a night like this so she too could feel like a princess for an evening.

Confidence in her appearance had Jenna striding through the revolving doors of Spencer’s plush residence. However, confidence alone didn’t permit her to  pass the authoritarian uniformed man on reception.

“May I help you miss,” he asked politely as he cut Jenna off from the elevator.

“Jenna King for Mr. Lawson.”

“Miss King, I didn’t even recognize you,” he exclaimed. “You look a treat tonight. Forgive me; I’m not used to seeing you out of uniform.”

“Think I’ll do?”

“Whatever the occasion, I’m certain you’ll make the right impression.”

“Thanks,” she winked as he indicated she enter the elevator.

Despite the approving glances and admiring comments on her way back to Spencer’s, she suddenly felt nervous about his reaction. Everyone in this building was used to seeing her in jeans, a shirt and an apron. Turning up in her gym gear probably wouldn’t have attracted as much attention.

She let herself into the apartment.

“Did you get on okay?” he shouted from the bedroom.

This has all got very informal very quickly, thought Jenna. “I think so,” she replied, hoping she wasn’t screeching.

“What do you mean think?”

Spencer stepped into the doorway frame of the bedroom leading to the living room. He was dressed in full white tie regalia, including a white bow tie, white waistcoat and stiff white dress shirt with a pique collar, coupled with black pleated trousers, black tails,  and patent black leather oxfords. Spencer looked as though he’d stepped out of a scene from Downton Abbey. Before Jenna was able to compliment his attire, Spencer’s eyes widened at the sight of her and his mouth dropped.

“You look amazing,” he whispered huskily.

The six-inch gold heels emphasized Jenna’s toned, slender legs under the olive-green and gold full length gown which was slit high to her thigh to show a flash of skin as she walked. There was no need for a plunging neckline to draw attention of her cleavage. The shoestring straps of the dress held the fitted bodice close to her firm rounded breasts and the soft material clung to her flat stomach.

“You look like a star.”

“I feel like a star,” said Jenna graciously. “Perhaps it’s just the hint of gold sparkle from the dress,” she laughed disarmingly.

“No,” protested Spencer sincerely. “You do look unearthly. Not of this planet. Some beauty from far away to visit for the night.”

“You sound almost poetic.”

“That’d be the effect of your outfit,” he grinned. “Imagine what I’ll be like after a few glasses of champagne.”

The atmosphere had changed in the room. Suddenly it didn’t feel like a business arrangement anymore. Suddenly Jenna was looking forward to the evening and not because there was a $1000 check waiting at the end of it.

The telephone rang, breaking the surreal romantic air of Spencer’s flat. His hand flew to it and he asserted that he’d be along promptly.

“Are you right to leave or do you need more time?”

“I’m good to go.”

“You certainly are,” affirmed Spencer, placing his hand on her back as he ushered her out the door.

*

“Anything you need to brief me on before we arrive?”

Spencer smiled at her. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be fine and you’re going to be fine. Just be yourself and stick close to me.”

Jenna felt reassured. Given Spencer was heavily involved with the charity she assumed he’d be expected to mingle and network for the majority of the evening, leaving Jenna to her own devices with a bunch of people she didn’t know and wouldn’t be able to relate to.

Seeing a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket as she entered the limousine, was a relief to Jenna’s eyes. Spencer opening it and pouring them both a glass was equally as welcome. The bubbles of the expensive Moet were going to her head and calming her nerves for the night ahead.

“I hope I don’t embarrass you.”

“If I thought for a second you might, I wouldn’t have invited you.”

“Sometimes you sound like a real snob, but other times I think you’re just a brutally honest kind of man.”

“I’m not sure I’m the kind of man that can be bothered with tip toeing round people to spare their feelings. You get much more accomplished with people if you’re up front and open with them. Playing games gets you nowhere. I don’t have time to waste in my life,” reflected Spencer.

“I’d have thought one of the bonuses to being a billionaire was that you could afford to waste time and play games.”

“I can afford to do that, but I don’t want to. You can’t buy time and some people unfortunately don’t have the time, no matter how much money is thrown at them.”

Jenna studied her hands and attempted to decipher Spencer’s cryptic words.

“What charity is this event for tonight,” she inquired.

“Rett syndrome.”

Jenna hadn’t heard of it. “Forgive my ignorance, but I’m not familiar with it.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. The majority of people haven’t heard of it. That’s why I’m hosting the event – to promote awareness. Now you’ve heard of it, I know I’ve accomplished something tonight.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a nervous system disorder. It’s diagnosed in children as early as six months. Breathing problems, seizures, muscular problems. They have difficulty with using their hands and expressing themselves in terms of language.”

“There’s no cure is there,” pre-empted Jenna.

“No,” said Spencer, his puppy dog eyes were incredibly sad. “I keep hoping if we have the funds to invest, one day we might have a breakthrough. As it currently stands, if you’re diagnosed with Rett Syndrome, you have a life expectancy of mid-twenties. Some live longer. If you are afflicted though, you don’t have the luxury of playing games and wasting time.”

“Who do you know who has it?”

“What makes you think I’m not the philanthropist type and this is just a hobby?”

“Because you look and sound like a human when you talk about it, rather than the arrogant, playboy image you like to project in my company.”

“I’m British. I don’t discuss my feelings,” he said firmly, but softly.

“I’m from Brooklyn. I’m nosy and if I’m determined, I normally get the answers I’m after.”

“I’d rather enjoy tonight. Let’s drop it.”

“That wasn’t specified in my contract,” pushed Jenna gently. “You’ve thrown this gala to raise money for a charity to help a person that’s special to you. Don’t insult my intelligence by implying you aren’t going to give them a second thought the minute that we’re out of this vehicle.”

The limousine began to slow as it approached the club.

“My niece. I’ve been over visiting her in London.  She’s five. The countdown has already begun for that little girl. Now let’s get to work.”

As the chauffeur opened the door and offered a hand to Jenna to assist her out of the limousine she was stunned by the array of photographers snapping her. This clearly wasn’t a low-key affair. Jenna didn’t have time to feel out of her depths. Spencer had already laced his fingers through hers and pulled her protectively close to him. He deliberately took his time walking the red carpet to allow the avid paparazzi to photograph him and Jenna.

“What’s it feel like to be on the arm of one of New York’s most eligible bachelors?” he murmured in her.

“I can think of a thousand reasons why I’m enjoying it,” she said sharply with a smile spread wide across her face.

“Ouch!”

“You were asking for that, big head.”

“I suppose I was. But I feel more like five foot two now rather than my usual six foot two.”

“Let me soothe your ego, you’re one of the tallest, most beautiful bachelors in attendance.”

“My real reasons for attending gives me the moral high ground anyway.”

“I thought you found schoolboy behavior and games wholly tedious.”

“I do. But I feel myself dragged into an event that I can’t cross my arms and walk away from, then I have to resort to such lowbrow tactics.”

“Well, you could, if I had a modicum of commonsense.”

“Jenna, look at me,” he demanded, circling slowly to show off his honed physique in the tailored flawless materials of his suit that emphasized his masculinity. “The majority of cameras back there are for me – for us! It’s imperative we stand out and make an impression.”

“How so?”

“Because we’re the ambassadors for tonight, We’re  the face of Rett Syndrome and to take that mantel,  we have to out class, out talk and out beautify every other person on the guest list.”

“That’s an awful lot of work for $1000!” She murmured with a sly wink.

“You got your outfit for free, “ he whispered in her shoulder letting his mouth down to nibble the bare chocolate of her flesh. Even before Jenna acknowledged them, Spencer could taste the gooseflesh raise on Jenna’s skin from the softest brush of his mouth. Shivering, she shrugged her shoulders indicating Spencer should remain upright.

Jenna took a few steps ahead and found a board with the table seating displayed  and where  people were assigned their relevant seats and table numbers.

“We’re together,” she clasped her hands quietly. Thrilled to not have to be flung into the wilderness with rich bodies that she shared nothing in common with interest with. “Are we at the head table?”

“Uh-huh”, replied a half-listening Spencer.

“Will there be  toasts?”

“Yeah, yeah. There’s a running order and master of ceremonies. Just chat and smile and look madly in love with me.”

“Perhaps I’ll settle with completely beguiled by you.”

“That would work as well,” agreed Spencer taking two glasses of champagne for him and Jenna.

She was surprised at the throng of people keen to network with Spencer. The dates of the men whom were cornering Spencer, were ogling the billionaire or sizing up his date – Jenna. She resisted the urge to bare her teeth and hiss like an alley cat. It would’ve made an impression, but probably not the impression Spencer wanted to make. . As they ambled around the pure white décor with dark plum drapes from the ceiling,  Jenna was relieved to finally hear the bell ring for dinner.

She felt as though she were the bride of the wedding or in the prom seats at the head table.

“Are you going to make a toast soon and wish us long life and happiness,” said Jenna, with a perfect smile, not divulging her wicked thought.

“Some other time, perhaps.”

That Spencer was laughing at her cheek had Jenna flustered.. He may have been fooling but momentarily it made her feel that it wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities.

Giving the enormous function room one final scan, the
Maître d'hôtel
tapped Spencer respectfully on the shoulder before slinking back into the shadows to the sidelines. Taking a deep breath, Spencer rose from his chair, picked up a fork and tapped  itt on a glass so the sharply it clanged around through the hall.

“Let me start by thanking each and every one of you for attending. The money raised tonight isn’t just to promote Rett Syndrome to raise awareness for every person on the street. Our aim is to continue fighting for funds to research and find a way to the little girls (and few boys) to live longer, happy and healthier lives.

My Business Lawson Cloud Computing is associated with this charity and my involvement is one that is also personal. Rather than stand here and become overemotional about my gorgeous little niece, Harper, I’ll let my father, Dr Lawson, a specialist in the field of Rett Syndrome, take over and update you on the what small steps have been walked and what potential bounds lay close on the horizon. Please welcome my father, Dr Lawson.”

Spencer sat down to a round of applause. Without even thinking, Jenna had turned her head and snuggled into Spencer’s chest to watch his equally confident father take the stand and go into the science of the company he worked for.

Like his son, Dr Lawson was charming and a little eccentric, but that somehow gave more authenticity to his lecture.

“You tired?”  mumbled Spencer to Jenna.

“Fascinated, I’m sorry to say.”

“He’ll be very flattered when he corners me for your honest critique later.”Once we’ve finished dinner, we’ve pretty much covered the bare essentials if you want to sneak away for an early night.”

“Certainly not. I intend to fulfill my contractual obligations. Besides,” she said picking up a folder with an itinerary for the evening. “I believe there’s dancing after dessert and cheese and biscuits.”

“I’d no idea you were a malingerer,” he teased.

“I’d no idea you were such an old man.”