A Billionaire's Secret Baby - Chapter 13

The following week, we reopened The Blue Orchid. But no matter how hard we tried, it was pitiful. Lunch was a disaster, and I watched forlornly from behind the bar. We’d had to take the bottles off the shelf, and it looked bare and empty from the front door.

Dinner was no better.

“I’m sorry,” said Cherise, “but we’re not serving alcohol tonight.”

“Oh,” said the guy at the door. “It’s my wife’s birthday. We were kind of hoping to drink. Maybe another time, though.”

The next people who came by were a family.

“Hi there!” said Cherise cheerfully.

But when she explained to them, the wife and the husband looked at one another.

“You know,” they said, “on second thoughts, we’ll go somewhere else. But thanks.”

Cherise turned and looked at me.

“It’s hopeless,” she said.

We sat fifteen out of two hundred seats for dinner that day. And more than a few people told us they were going to complain.

“To who?” said Andy, as he stood forlornly in the beautiful wine cellar while I told him the bad news. “Oh well. Let’s just do a big stock take tomorrow.”

“It’s 9.30,” I said. “And the restaurant’s empty.”

I went upstairs and polished glasses that didn’t need polishing. Alex was there, and I couldn’t watch as he looked solemnly around the empty dining room. It wasn’t like his expression changed. He was just as serious and dour as he’d ever been. But seeing him like this, I could tell a change had come over him. His shoulders were slouching a little, and he looked tired.

“How are you holding up?” I said, concerned for him as he walked past.

“Fine, thank you, Lola,” he said, as he pushed through the door and began to make his way up the stairs.

I watched him go for a second, and remembered what Andy had told me about Alex, how he had no family, no one to rely on. He needed someone to talk to. And for a moment, I wondered if it could be me. Everyone needs someone, after all. And I knew that I wanted to be with him, wanted to know what Alex was thinking behind his blank expression.

I took a deep breath, and followed him through the door. “You know, you won’t get anything done by being sad about it,” I said, standing at the foot of the stairs.

He turned around and looked down at me, sighing.

“Don’t you have something better to do?” said Alex before he turned and went up the stairs.

I followed him, my little quick steps echoing after his big slow ones. He was brushing me off, but I knew why. It was because he couldn’t think of any reason to disagree with me.

“You know, when Bellaire had problems with their liquor license last year, they—”

Alex turned around and raised his hands. Stop!

“You know, Lola,” he said, “I’ve had a hell of a long day. I just flew all the way to Baltimore to try and find a bunch of documents I need, and back, and I didn’t get a thing I was looking for. And I’d really prefer it if you just left me alone right now. Okay?”

His snappy tone really got to me. I turned around for a while.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Have it your way.”

But then I turned back and looked up the stairs. Alex was shouldering the whole world on his broad back.

And I remembered what he said, when I said that people could surprise you, could come good when you least expected them: not in my experience.

Well, maybe it was time for a little learning experience for grumpy old Alex Lowe. I jogged up the stairs after him, and as he went into his office, I grabbed his arm.

“What?” he said, turning on me. Blue eyes full of flame. He was so strong that he could have tossed me over his shoulder if he wanted. But I didn’t care.

“Please,” I said. “It…it upsets me to see you like this.”

“What do you care?” he said.

“I care about you,” I said, and I felt my stomach flutter as I said it.

“You can go home for the night,” sighed Alex. There isn’t much to do here. Go on home to your kid.”

“I’d rather talk to you,” I said.

Alex looked at me, and then I saw a light in his eyes. Like a candle had been lit, somewhere way off in the darkness of his mind.

“I was gonna do paperwork this evening,” he said. “But actually I think I could use a drink.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Want some company?” I said.

***

Of course, it couldn’t be at a normal bar. Alex chose the skybar at the top of another fancy-ass skyscraper. This one was down at the southern end of Central Park.

“This is the flashiest building in the world,” I said.

Alex grinned, as he gently swirled a twist of lemon around his vodka soda. “You don’t like that, do you?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t, actually. I work hard every day, just for the little things in life. A pair of shoes, or a coat for my daughter. If I want to take her to the zoo, I have to figure in a cab ride, how much it’s gonna cost to eat out. And this city’s ridiculous. It’s like, 9 dollars for a tub of ice-cream. And kids love ice-cream!”

Alex laughed, and nodded his head. “They certainly do.” It felt so good to see him laugh, to hear his warm, baritone chuckle.

“So, what do you need?” I said.

“I shouldn’t be talking to you about this.”

“Come on!” I said. “You can trust me, you know. Not everyone’s a low-down, good-for-nothing son-of-a—”

“Easy, tiger,” said Alex. The pet name gave me a warm sizzle in my tummy, along with the martini he’d gotten for me. The mood between us was different, now. Once we got to the bar, it was like Alex could relax. I noticed that about him. In certain places, The Blue Orchid, the restaurant we’d visited in Manhattan, he felt like he could relax.

“Sorry,” I said. “It just, it makes me so angry. Why’s he doing this to you? What is there to gain?”

“The satisfaction of knowing he’s right, and I’m wrong.” said Alex.

“The satisfaction of being a total jerk,” I muttered.

“You’re real fired-up about this, aren’t you?” said Alex.

“Damn right I am!” I said, as I slapped my glass down on the bar. “If The Blue Orchid closes then where am I gonna go? What am I gonna do?”

“How are you gonna keep yourself in shoes and afford trips to the zoo, you mean?” said Ale.

“Ha ha.”

“You can work somewhere else,” said Alex. “But if an owner screws up…his career is over. No one wants to come eat at a crook’s restaurant, do they? Face it, Lola. I’m done.”

“It ain’t over ‘til the fat lady sings!” I said. “What are they charging you with, anyway?”

“It’s a long story,” said Alex.

“So enlighten me, bigshot,” I said. “You think I’m not some kind of legal expert? Lola Ryder, Attorney-at-Law! Special Victims Unit.”

“You’re pretty funny,” said Alex.

“You could use some cheering up,” I said.

Alex paused, and looked out of the window. We were up so high that mostly the view from here was just darkness. “Someone,” he said, with a heavy sense of irony, “forged my birth certificate. My original, not the copies I used when I applied for liquor licenses. They think I’m…not who I say I am.”

“What? Not who you think you are?”

“Yeah. Kind of.”

“That’s hard. That’s devious,” I said. “If you can make someone doubt themselves, you can make them doubt the truth.”

“Yeah,” said Alex. “Yeah.” He peered at me as we leaned against the bar together. “You know, you’re kind of smart.”

“Kind of?” I frowned.

“Pretty smart.”

“Pretty?”

“You’re also pretty,” said Alex, chuckling. I hoped he didn’t notice how much I shivered with pleasure at that. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine,” I grinned.

“Hey,” said Alex, finishing his drink. “You wanna see a better view than this one? I could show you the view from my living room.”

I felt uneasy at being invited back to his apartment, but I didn’t want to leave him alone. I knew that now Alex was facing fraud charges, there was no way I could tell him about Macy. Maybe when all this was over there would be time to talk.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Can’t we stay here? It’s probably far to go and I need to get home soon. I shouldn’t keep Sara waiting.”

“We’re in my building.”

“What?”

Alex gestured. “This is my local. This is my building.”

“What? Where do you live?”

“Top-floor penthouse. Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you.”

***

“This is insane,” I whispered. “Completely insane.”

Alex and I stood at the window in his living room. It was enormous—the size of a house, quite literally, and just as tall—and was furnished like a palace, with gorgeous soft furniture. He had beautiful antique oak and mahogany sofas, chaise-lounges imported from Paris.

“I used to be a better host,” he said. “These days I keep myself to myself.”

“You gonna give me a tour?” I said.

“Come on,” he said. “You can go look around if you want. Mi casa es su casa.”

“But I might get lost,” I said flirtatiously. It was just a joke.

But kind of true.

Alex walked me through the rooms. Our first stop was the kitchen, a wide expanse of stainless steel benches and marble surfaces.

“This is kind of rad,” I said. “It looks like a restaurant.”

“I kind of prefer to do my own cooking. Unless I’m throwing a party. Then I can get six chefs in here.”

Then we took a tour of his library. It was piled high with books. On the shelves behind were books about computers, technology, programming. I could see that Alex didn’t read much for fun. But I did smile when I saw a few science-fiction books at the top of one of the shelf. They had names like The Thing From Mars and Galaxy War. They looked old, too. Had they been his teenage obsession? The floor and the tables were littered with legal volumes, some of which still had barely been unwrapped from their packaging.

“You’ve read all of this?” I said

“Hardly. But I try to read every day if I can. I’ve got a couple of rare ones, too.”

“Like what?”

Alex pointed over at a table with a few volumes encased in glass.

“To Kill a Mockingbird,” I said. “You like that one?”

“I read it in school. I used to read a lot in school, I guess. Not that it ever showed in my grades.”

“You should read this one again,” I said. I’d only ever seen the movie. “You know, it’s about an innocent man who gets let off because of this amazing lawyer?”

“It’s not a happy ending,” said Alex, mournfully.

He moved away. “So why’s this in here?” I frowned.

“Oh,” he said, coming back. “It’s signed by Harper Lee. First Edition.”

“Is that rare?”

“Not so rare. But—” Alex said, reaching under the table and pressing a button. The door on the glass case unlocked. “Take a look.”

I opened it up.

“To J.F.K. from Harper Lee.”

My eyes widened.

“That who I think it is?”

Alex nodded, and I gingerly put the book back where it was, patting it gently.

Then he showed me his guest room.

“Since when do you have guests?” I said.

“Not really ever,” he admitted. “But still. Imagine.”

“Do you have any family?” I said.

Alex thought about it.

“A couple of uncles,” he said. “They’re out in California. We don’t talk much. A few years ago, one of them wrote me asking for money.”

“What did you say?”

“I sent him a check for a million dollars and told him either he could cash it, or contact me again. But not both.”

“What?”

“None of them ever cared about me when I was poor,” said Alex. “Why should they care about me now that I’m rich?”

He had a point. But when Alex showed me into his room, I was amazed.

It was like a whole other apartment. A private TV room, with a home entertainment system was on the ground floor. A staircase led up to an enormous bedroom, with wide oak rafter and beams. Alex’s bed was the biggest I’d ever seen, and when I got to the bathroom, I squealed.

“Gold taps!” I gasped. “Gold. Taps.”

“What about ‘em?” said Alex. “I hate them myself, but for some reason, the decorator insisted.”

“We, uh,” I said, “we have this joke at work. That you’re so rich you have gold bath taps.”

“Well now you can tell all your co-workers what a pompous ass I really am.”

“Oh you,” I said. “I’d never say a bad word about you.”

“That’s not true,” said Alex, smiling. He sat down on the bed. My heart was glowing. Despite the enormous size and the grandeur of Alex’s penthouse palace, it was roomy, and here, in his inner sanctum, comfortable.

He sat down on the bed, and I sat next to him.

“What are the restaurant staff saying about all this?” he said.

“Why do you care?” I said. “Aren’t you always saying you don’t care about what other people think?”

“The Blue Orchid’s different,” he replied.

“Some of them think there’s no way you’d ever do a thing like this,” I said.

“And the rest?”

I shrugged. “Some of them think you did it.”

“Sure. Them and everyone else in New York. What do you think?”

“That there’s no way you’d do something like this. You’re too nice. And you’ve worked too hard to risk it all.”

“I don’t want to lose all this, Lola,” he said quietly.

It was the first time the great Alex Lowe had shown me a hint of vulnerability. A moment of weakness. I felt privileged. And a little strange, too. Why did he trust me with that vulnerability? A woman who’d hurt him only a few days ago?

“You’re not going to,” I said. “Me and Zeke, and Jeff, your lawyer. And Andy and everyone who works at The Blue Orchid. We’re with you.”

Alex looked at me. “You think?” he said.

“Yeah. And we’re counting on you.”

“There is one thing I can be happy about.”

“What’s that?” I wanted him to think about that thing.

“You,” he breathed.

And then my hands were on him.

I pressed them against his chest, felt his pecs beneath his shirt. And I lifted my head, and leaned towards Alex, and kissed his cheek. It was playful, and gentle. A small gesture with which I hoped to show him I was on his side.

He turned to me, and we were nose-to-nose, my eyes meeting his. And for the first time, he looked open, honest, and I could see him for who he really was. Not some invincible superhero, but a man. A man, made of flesh and blood, and suddenly I wanted him to know that no man was an island. I wanted to touch beyond the borders of the walls Alex Lowe threw up around himself. I wanted to comfort him and make him see that he could trust someone.

So I kissed him.

Gently at first, pressing my lips to his, and when I opened my eyes, the world seemed saturated with color again. It was like before everything had been in black and white, like an old movie. But my sensations sharpened, and the world looked new as I leaned in and kissed him again.

Softly, our mouths explored one another, and I heard him purr with satisfaction, and exhale a little. His breath was warm and stoked the fire inside of me to life, and my hands reached up to his jacket and pushed it off.

His jacket slid to the floor, and I reached for his hands and put them on me. Put them on my breasts, my torso, where they gently held my flesh, tenderly squeezing me in the places where Alex knew I wanted to be touched. We were made for each other, our bodies seemed pushed together and perfect. And slowly, he caught my head in his hands, and lowered me onto the bed, where I lay as his strong body covered me. I felt his strength bear down on me, and felt happy to make him feel so strong.

Alex reached down, and undid the black pants I’d worn to work that day. He slipped them off, and his hands reached down as his mouth kissed my neck, a dozen, then two dozen times.

We made out on the bed as we slowly undressed one another. It felt like the first time: like the man I was with was gentle. He commanded me, he controlled me. He was the master of my body and I let him be. But more than that, we were partners. It was something we did together, all the while looking into each other’s eyes.

His hand brushed against my underwear, the last item of clothing I had on. He kissed my breasts, and his tongue moved against one of my nipples. I let out a sigh of pleasure, as he bent low, and slipped off my underwear.

Kneeling by the bed, Alex dropped his head, and kissed my clit gently. I opened my legs, and felt his hands push against my thighs, lifting me a little, angling my body perfectly for him to pleasure me orally. And slowly, he began to curl his tongue, sending shocks of blinding wonder through my groin, up to my chest. I threw a hand into my hair, and gently wound my fingers into his, inviting him as he gripped my body, pressing deeper and harder with his tongue.

Sighing and softly moaning, I felt myself rising up. How long had we been doing this? Five minutes? An hour? I didn’t know anymore. Time had slipped away in the dimly-lit bedroom, and gradually I felt myself coming to a rippling, delicious orgasm, one which left me heaving with breaths and trembling in his arms.

Alex got up on the bed, but I wasn’t done yet. I wanted him. As he laid there, I turned him on his back, and rose above him. A long, wide mirror covered one side of his bed, and for a moment, I took in the sight of myself, my long legs and my arms as I reached down and took hold of his enormous, erect manhood.

I pushed Alex’s cock inside of me, easing myself in gently this time. But I felt used to his size now. Not that it didn’t make me practically shiver with ecstasy as I felt him fill me, heard him groan as I ground on his cock, my hands caressing the soft hairs on his bare chest.

I began to rock back and forth, supporting myself on my knees. But I hardly had to, because Alex’s hands were reaching up to support me. I hardly had to even put pressure on him, and eventually I was going faster, fucking him, as I looked down into his eyes. And he began to respond, driving forwards with me, his hips working underneath me, until I bent over and clasped him in my arms. “Oh God,” I said, “Yes, please, like that, like that!”

I’d never felt so exposed, so naked as I did astride him like that. It made me feel young again, and I realized that being with Alex like this was a way back to a time in my life when I hadn’t been so afraid.

“I missed you,” I said, between my cries of passion.

“I missed you,” he said, and then I heard him cry out, and watched his head go back, as I felt Alex come inside of me. And it was the best feeling I’d ever felt, as he gave me all he had, filling me with warmth and light. When it was over, I was tingling, shaking, and fell beside him, where we kissed and held one another, safe against all the trouble the outside world could bring.

We lay there for a little while, not saying anything, just watching each other. Fascinated to be here again, despite all odds.

Maybe it was time to admit the truth. No matter what happened, we kept getting pulled into these situations. And it wasn’t one person’s fault. It was the both of us. Drawn to one another, even if it meant walking over hot coals.

I looked at the clock on Alex’s bedside table. It was 10.30pm. Still plenty of time to get home.

I got up, and bent down. “I have to go,” I said, and kissed his cheek.

“Okay,” he said. “I can call you a car.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“This was nice,” he said.

“It was, wasn’t it?”