Page 8 of Billionaire Hunt

“Um...tell him thank you, I guess?” I felt myself coming out of a fog for the first time in weeks. “Oliver’s great.”

And just like that, I was ready to talk. I started to unload on Lacey about Grandma and how she was going to lose her home.

After I finished, Lacey simply said, “I knew Wyatt wouldn’t exactly win a humanitarian of the year award since he abhors poor people and the elderly, but this is beyond spiteful even for him. This is such a heavy conversation. I think we should get Emmaline in on this. How about we all meet for dinner?”

I agreed and then lowered the sun visor to look at myself in the mirror. Yep, still hideous, I thought to myself, pushing it back up. I sighed and headed back into the condo to take a shower, brush my teeth, and at least try to be presentable.

A few hours later I found myself pulling up to the entrance of Oliver’s mansion. I parked my car and got out. Oliver didn’t permit cars on the property. Like I mentioned, he was an eccentric man. I saw Emmaline’s car as well. Great, all my pals are here, I thought to myself, already feeling better than I had in weeks.

I waved to Mr. Nguyen, his long-time guard, and he happily waved back as he opened the gate. I hiked up to the house, which sat about a quarter of a mile away from the road. As I headed up, I heard a noise. A motorcycle was heading in my direction. It zoomed by me, startling me, and I leaped back. So, motorcycles were okay, but not cars? Oliver was so random. As I set eyes on the mansion, I still felt the same awe as I did when I first saw it. It was a stunning work of art, an awe-inspiring estate. The architect had clearly put his heart and soul into it. But even though the mansion was intimidating on the outside and fit for a royal family, it felt like home because Oliver had always been so welcoming. In fact, when Lacey had mentioned dinner, Oliver had insisted that we meet up at his home and Lacey and I hadn’t felt any need to argue with him.

When I finally arrived at the house I saw the motorcycle parked in front of it. Oliver stood in front of the grand entrance talking to the guy who I had seen earlier. He still held his helmet in his hand.

“There she is!” Oliver said upon seeing me.

I looked behind me and realized that he was talking about me. Why was he so excited to see me? He must have something up his sleeve, I thought, narrowing my eyes. Oliver was always full of surprises and I had no interest in being on the receiving end of one of them.

“Hi, Oliver.” He happily made his way to my side. He was wearing very brief, tight-fitting shorts and a mesh, muscle-tee. I had to bite my lip to not giggle. Oliver’s muscle mass was pretty nonexistent, so the muscle-tee was very baggy on him.

He offered me an arm and I looked up at the man who was waiting at the top of the steps for us. Whoever Oliver’s friend was...he was totally hot. With that thought in mind, I immediately missed a step and fell forward directly on top of Oliver.

I was mortified as the handsome stranger gracefully made his way down to us. Oliver and I were a tangle of arms and legs as we attempted to extract our limbs from under each other. The motorcycle guy extended a hand and tried to pull me up. I was afraid that all those hot dogs had added to my bulk. Not that I was fat, but I definitely could stand to lose about ten pounds...probably 15 now. After all, I had been spending the past few weeks just stuffing my face.

“Erik,” Oliver said, gasping for air as I attempted to crawl off of him. “This is the girl I wanted you to meet. This is Misha.”

The guy called Erik gave me a stiff polite smile and, with a little pull, completely pulled me off of Oliver’s body. It wasn’t until I was fully pulled up that I realized I had had my knee in Oliver’s belly. Poor guy.

“Thanks, Erik. I’m usually pretty graceful,” I lied.

“I’m sure you are.” His dark eyes were unsmiling and he seemed like he wanted to be anywhere else but there. It was impossible not to notice how attractive he was. In fact, he was probably the most attractive man I had ever seen in my life. He had dark brown eyes, full lips, and could easily have been a Hollywood actor stepping off a movie set. He looked French to me with his cool look. He wore a light tan colored shirt that fit tightly across his upper body. He was built like a swimmer, tall with long lean muscles in his arms but with a broad, heavily muscular chest. He was clearly in shape, I thought as I looked at his impossibly flat stomach, narrow waist and long legs, almost too muscular for his slim fitting pants.

“Misha, I was just telling Erik about your issue. And you guys might be the key to each other’s problems.”

“Excuse me?” I said, clearly not understanding.

“Your money problem.”

I blushed. Oliver was the worst! He knew nothing about what topics were socially inappropriate. Actually, he did know, he just didn’t care. “Did Lacey tell you everything?” Gosh, I hoped not.

“Of course, she did. Once she gets upset about something the whole household doesn’t hear the last of it.”

I groaned. And then I looked at Erik. “So, what’s your story?”

“My story is that I’m leaving now.”

I was taken aback by his abruptness. “Well, by all means, don’t let little old me stand in your way.”

He immediately looked contrite. “I apologize for my rudeness. I’d just rather not discuss my personal affairs with a stranger.”

“What personal affairs?” I asked, now more curious than I was before. What was Erik so against discussing with a stranger? And why had Oliver wanted me to meet him?

“Misha isn’t a stranger. She’s practically family,” Oliver said as he attempted to right himself. I offered a hand down and he took it.

“Nevertheless, Oliver, I would appreciate your discretion regarding the matter.”

Oliver shook his head. “I think you’re making a mistake. You should let me help you. I’m good at this!”

Good at what? I thought, even more intrigued.

Erik shrugged. “You have a right to your opinion, even if I don’t agree with it.” His tone was matter-of-fact.

“It was nice meeting you, Misha.” And with that he walked off. He got on the back of his motorcycle and drove off.

I immediately turned to Oliver, “What was that about?”

Oliver chewed his bottom lip as if trying to decide how much to not tell me. “I’ll get him to tell you later. Go on inside. I’ll join you soon,” he said ushering me in. “Lacey is probably worried you got lost in the bushes or something.”

His garden was like a labyrinth so getting lost in it wasn’t quite an exaggeration, but as I made my way to the door, I couldn’t help but wonder about the sexy guy now driving away on his motorcycle, as if the devil himself was after him.