The Scandalous Billionaires Collection (5 page)

"They're only human too." She slurred to
herself. It was like listening to another person speak. She had no
interest in the rich or famous and barely knew what people were
talking about when they dropped their names into conversation, but
on her glass of wine she was feeling an absurd empathy for all
human suffering, even the superficial glitzy kind of the rich and
famous.

The skinny presenter with the big mouth was
practically shouting into the screen.

"We're here live outside of one of New York's
most happening downtown clubs where the Demovic brothers are
holding an all star bash for the launch of their new billion dollar
software program."

Melissa sat up straight.

Demovic
?

"I know what you're thinking," The presenter
continued. "Software--who gives a damn, right? Old tycoons, geeky
programmers, who cares? But that was before older brother, just 29
years old by the way, Jason Demovic began hitting the coolest night
spots in town every night of the week and leaving with one beauty
after another, night after night as though the man is single
handedly trying to satisfy all the beautiful women in New York
City."

Melissa was bolt upright now and the
recognition of her client's name had cleared her head like a patrol
car pulling her over on the highway. The dessert spoon of double
chocolate chip ice-cream she held was suspended in mid-air with
large, sticky globs beginning to join the red wine stains on the
carpet below.

"Younger brother Zach already left at a
reasonable hour and he was alone. The sensible thing to do if you
are a young billionaire with an empire to run."

"Billionaire?" Melissa repeated.

The presenter got more excited.

"Oh my God, we thought older and sexier
brother Jason was still inside and we have hit pay dirt girls. Here
comes the man himself."

She began moving quickly towards a group of
women who were emerging from the club assisted by burly door staff
and private bodyguards. Melissa strained to see as more globs of
ice-cream continued to drip to the carpet below.

"Trust me ladies you will want to see this
one. If you're one of the few who doesn't yet know who Jason
Demovic is then you need to pay attention right now because they
don't come any more smoking hot than this young multi-billionaire--
and ladies, this one is up for grabs."

"Multi-billionaire? Up for grabs?" The last
big chunk of ice-cream left Melissa's spoon and splattered to the
rug.

"Mr. Demovic! Mr. Demovic! Jason! It's
Chauncey Tales from the Fame TV network. Can you answer a few
questions for us please?"

Melissa was transfixed. It was hard to see
what was going on-- this was live TV after all--but then suddenly
there he was, clear as day, the same burning, dark eyes, the same
incredible good looks. He was surrounded by women and body
guards.

"Chauncey, it's great to see you." He said as
though she were a close friend. "What can I do for you?" He asked
her graciously.

"Who are these women Jason? Are you dating
one of them? Or maybe all of them." She turned and winked at the
camera.

"These beautiful ladies are all good friends
of mine."

"Are they friends with benefits Jason?"

He gave an incredibly charming smile and then
wagged his finger at the reporter. "That's a very naughty question
Chauncey. No, these ladies are just good friends, that's all. Now
if you'll excuse me." He turned to start helping the women into the
limo. They all looked as slutty and grasping as Melissa imagined
celebrity groupies to be and they weren't camera shy. Except for
one of them who was making a concerted effort to hide behind the
very tall and broad Jason Demovic.

"Oh my God, Beth Lindsay from channel 5, is
that you?" The Fame TV reporter screamed as she recognized the
budding serious TV journalist getting into the limo.

Beth Lindsay knew she had just been outed.
There would be no use trying to deny it.

"Hi Chauncey." She said. "I'm just, uh,
covering a story here."

Chauncey snorted into her microphone. "Oh
really Beth? Is the story in Jason Demovic's pants Beth? Will we
hear all about it on the Channel 5 news tomorrow?"

Beth tried not to look peeved as she
continued climbing into the limo.

"Upskirt!"

The word came from nowhere but the camera was
sure, zeroing in on the young journalist's nether parts as she
separated her legs to enter the luxury car. Chauncey went at it
like an attack dog.

"Beth, why aren't you wearing panties
tonight?"

It was all too indistinct for Melissa to
really see anything, particularly not with her head still a fuzzy
from the alcohol.

Beth disappeared into the limo scrambling
over a child booster seat next the window seat.

Kids?
Melissa thought.
He's got
kids and he's out with some slut at a night club?
Melissa was
sobering up by the second. Maybe Jason Demovic thought he didn't
need help but clearly his life was as much of a mess as hers
was.

Chauncey Tales kept up her assault from
outside the car on the street.

"Jason, are you carrying Beth's underwear for
her?"

Jason gave his wonderfully sexy, mature
billionaire smile again. George Clooney would have been outclassed
by his suave cool.

But his eyes still held that intimidating
steel. Chauncey Tales was clearly skating on thin ice.

"Thanks Chauncey." He said. "I'll see you
later in the week." He ducked into the limo and was followed
closely by two other women.

As the car sped away Chauncey turned to the
camera to wrap up her piece.

"Well there you have it folks, troubled
billionaire and ultra hot sexy playboy Jason Demovic is driving to
his software launch after-after party with two unnamed skinny
bimbos and one very panty-less news reporter, none other than
Channel 5's Beth Lindsay. If there's any decent woman out there who
can save this gorgeous bad-boy from himself then you are invited to
come forward and make yourself known before this train-wreck
crashes to a halt. Now back to Racy in the studio where it appears
Canadian rocker Justin Bieber has gotten himself in trouble yet
again!"

Melissa shut off the TV.

"No wonder he needs my help." She murmured.
"Maybe David just needs to chill the fuck out." She slurred. Bad
language was another side effect of her intolerance to alcohol.

She jumped when her phone rang out in the
silence of her living room. She didn't recognize the number and
considered letting it ring through but then decided to answer
anyway. She could use someone to talk to, anyone, the more
anonymous the better. A wrong number would be good.

"Hello?" She said picking up the phone.

"Melissa I need to book in for tomorrow."

"Who is this?" She said incredulously, but
she already knew the answer.

"Don't play games. I'll be there at 10am.
Clear the time for me. I'll pay whatever it costs even if you need
to reschedule."

"Who are you talking to Jason?" A female
voice in the background whined.

"We want you all to ourselves tonight, turn
your phone off."

"I'll see you tomorrow Melissa. I have to go.
I'll see you at 10am tomorrow."

Melissa was too shocked to respond.

"Melissa? Tell me that 10am is good
tomorrow."

"Uh, yes, yes it is, no problem Jason. I'll
see you then."

The line went dead and Melissa sat with the
phone in her hand, still too stunned to even begin figuring out
what kind of trouble she was getting herself into. An image flashed
through her mind and she shook her mind in exasperation.

"Get out of my head." She moaned
despairingly.

"Are you sure you want to cancel Mr. Connelly
Melissa?" Sandy asked her. "He's due here in under an hour, he
might be on his way already."

"I didn't ask you if we could discuss it
Sandy, I just told you to do it. I'm paying you to work reception
not to question my decisions."

Sandy stared into Melissa's bloodshot eyes
disapprovingly and a wave of guilt went through her.

"I'm sorry Sandy, I didn't mean--"

"It's okay Dr. Price. You're right. I'll make
the change."

I'll make it up to him.
She thought as
she ducked back into her office. It had only been half a glass of
wine but the hangover was a doozey and it was something Melissa was
definitely not accustomed to. The Tylenol she had taken didn't seem
to be making any impact on her headache and her stomach didn't feel
too good either. It had been nearly 1am when Jason had called to
make his appointment and she had gone to bed soon after, but that
was late for Melissa. She usually called it a night at 9pm so that
she could get up at 5am to start her long early morning
routine.

It had been considerably shorter this morning
and with an annoying soundtrack of one thought going constantly
through her mind.

Am I doing the right thing with this
client?

Melissa wasn't superstitious but she clearly
remembered and still felt the sense of foreboding that she had
experienced when Jason had been sitting in front of her. Her
counseling supervisor had forbidden her to see him. She had had
intensely sexual thoughts about him. He had phoned her home number
at 1am in the morning to demand an appointment at 10am the
following day.

There was nothing right about seeing 'this
client'.

How can this be the right thing to do?

She sat in her office listening to the
pounding inside her skull. It was still only 9.25am. She had
another half hour at least before Demovic would arrive, unless he
surprised her like the day before. She couldn't escape the sinking
feeling that she was digging herself a hole she would never be able
to get out of.

He'll arrive. I'll tell him we can't do
this. I'll be honest and explain to him exactly why we cannot work
together.

But if any of that was true then why was she
so excited about the prospect of seeing him again as well?

Was it just because he was some kind of
celebrity? Surely not--but Jason Demovic wasn't an ordinary client
in any respect. He wasn't an ordinary man in any respect. This was
an A-list celebrity, one of Manhattan's elite and currently one of
its most eligible bachelors. Plus it was still a complete mystery
as to why he needed her. Professionally she was intrigued, but that
didn't explain the flutter of excitement she felt every time she
thought about meeting him again.

Her buzzer went and she heard Sandy's soft
voice announce Mr. Jason Demovic.

Shit.
She looked at the wall clock. He
was a full half an hour early. He seemed to like catching her off
guard.

"Please send him in." She said in her most
composed voice.

She stood up as the door opened and there he
was, standing in her doorway again. He looked every bit as
jaw-droppingly, toe-curlingly sexy as he had the day before.
Knowing that he was a multi-billionaire didn't take anything away
from the effect either.

"Mr. Demovic. It's lovely to see you again."
The words came out painfully. Her head was still pounding and she
ground her teeth to help hold herself together.

Come on Melissa, this won’t take long.

Jason came in and shut the door behind
him.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short
notice." He said. "I'd like to get started on our program of
therapy as quickly as possible."

He walked to the therapy area and his
athletic body plopped down onto the couch. There was no trace of
his late night anywhere on his face. Melissa wondered about the
three women he had just spent the night with. Could he really have
dispensed with all three of them at the same time while she had
been comatose in her bed and then come straight here--fresh as an
ice-cube and dressed like the President for his therapy
session?

"You're a little early." Melissa said. "I
have you in for 10am."

"I'm going to need more of your time, but
don't worry, I'll pay for it. Whatever it takes. Money is never an
issue but my time is. And of course so is yours. Shall we get
started?"

Her phone was on silent but she saw a call
coming through from David. She ignored it and walked over to her
analysis chair. She felt hot. The hangover no doubt.

It's time. Come on Melissa, let's get this
over with.

Her heart was beating. If he wasn't her
client then that would mean… It was the first time that thought had
occurred to her. No therapeutic relationship meant the freedom to
act as she pleased, but with all her years of study and damned
celibacy she would have no idea where to even begin.

"Where would you like me to begin?" Jason
asked, seemingly plucking the thought from her mind.

"Mr. Demovic--"

"I think you better start calling me Jason,
don’t you think? Now that we're going to be spending so much time
together."

"Uh… okay, well Jason, about that, I'm afraid
there's been a change of plan."

His demeanor transformed instantly.

"I don’t like last minute changes to plans."
He said sternly. "Please elaborate."

"I have this… issue… unfortunately… that will
prevent me from working with you."

"I don’t understand Dr. Price, you'll need to
be more clear."

This wasn't going to be easy. How could she
explain that she had been forbidden to take him on as a client
because of a powerfully intense sexual attraction to him that she
had revealed to her supervisor?

Keep it simple.
She counseled
herself.

"I'm in trouble with the ethics committee
that oversees my professional body."

"I know." He said. "What does that have to do
with us?"

"How do you know about that?"

"I make it my business to know about people
that I have to enter into any kind of relationship with. Don't
worry about the ethics committee. My understanding is that there
will be no problem with your case and you will be allowed to
continue in your practice. So can we get started now?"