How Not to Be Seduced by Billionaires (23 page)

            I nodded.

            We stared at each other, both our gazes shuttered to hide the emotions we were feeling. He said slowly, “Maybe I can drive you home tonight?”

           
Sports car or bus?

           
It was a no-brainer.

            “Maybe next time,” I replied just as slowly.
Bus
was so much safer for my heart.

            He stiffened, and I knew it was because he wasn’t the type who experienced rejection so easily.

            I forced a smile. “So, see you tomorrow, all right?” I waited for him to leave, to say something – to do anything just so I could be more certain of where I stood with him.

            Constantijin finally glanced at me, his face impassive. He stepped aside.

            My heart skipped a beat, in a bad way. That felt very symbolic for me and for one instant, I could imagine how excruciating it would feel if he really did step aside and stopped coming after me.

“See you tomorrow,” he said just as politely.

            Walking past him with trembling legs, I felt his gaze on me all the way out of my office. I hated how he used to blow hot and cold with me, but now I realized that I was doing the same thing with him. It wasn’t right and yet – everything else I could do felt wrong.

            Something had to give, but I just wasn’t sure what, and it scared me.

Lesson #8

The only kind of threesome that your billionaire understands

will have something to do with you and another woman.

The days of the week seemed especially long when I thought about Constantijin but it seemed too short when I focused on my work. I still couldn't make my mind up about him.

            Did I trust him? Did I love him or was I just blinded by how gorgeous and seductive he was?

            Tuesday was
awkward.
Constantijin had called me up, but he wasn’t his usual wickedly teasing self and I had a feeling we were both relieved when he received an urgent request for a business meeting over Skype with his assistant in Netherlands.

            Wednesday was slightly better. Constantijin had asked if I wanted to go out, and on impulse I invited him to accompany me to church. We knelt on the pew side by side, and when I looked at the enormous gold-plated crucifix before me, I realized that what I wanted to pray for was not something I
should
pray for.

            I mean, God was, like, our Dad in heaven right? So I couldn’t very well pray
Dear God, please, please make things okay between Constantijin and me because I want him to be the one to take my virginity.

           
Thursday was also fine. We watched a movie. I waited with bated breath the whole time for Constantijin to make a move but he
didn’t
. When we got home, I had a hard time remembering what the movie was about, but I could easily write a fifty-page commentary about how good Constantijin smelled. In the darkness of the theater, his scent – which had a hint of spiciness from his cologne – weaved a seductive spell that literally had me shaking in an effort
not
to be the first one to touch him.

            Oh, Constantijin. What should I do with you?

            And then Friday arrived, and I was about to make another presentation. We were in yet another conference room, bigger than the previous one we were in. I almost felt like Goldilocks, hopping from one increasingly large bed to another, only this time I got a stage that kept getting grander and grander. In fact,
this
one even had actual twenty-foot stage curtains.

            I was up last again, and when I heard George finishing his presentation, I checked my reflection on the mirror one last time. I had on a short turtleneck black dress, with tight fitting long sleeves and which hugged my figure to perfection. I also had my reading glasses on – not because I needed it (I only used it at night) but more because I wanted to look sexy and serious at the same time.

            Yes, I knew it was silly but so what? It was what gave me false confidence.

The Future of Smut: Japanese Style in the US Market

There are two ways of looking at Japanese styled smut. One is to consider it soft porn or the more decent version of
hentai
. The other is to describe it as those containing suggestive or sexually explicit scenes that are nevertheless tastefully rendered and add something to the story.

Sex between high school couples on TV is something we’re used to seeing – but
not
to the extent of how it’s drawn in
manga.
It’s a lot more graphic, sensual, sexy, and just plain hot – it can easily cause public outrage.

But…
sex sells. And I know that at the end of the day, that matters a lot.
If
Kastein Inc. chooses to adapt smutty
manga
for American television, I only propose one thing: show the consequences of high school sex. If we have to make our own version of its ending, so be it. Parents can say all they want about the sex, but at least they can’t ever blame our company for not taking the opportunity to educate younger viewers about the harsher realities of unprotected and unplanned sex.

When I finished my report, I almost cried.
Sex
was not a word I could so easily say to a roomful of people and for several times, my voice even cracked while I was talking. It was hard because I wasn’t even sure if what I was suggesting was the right thing. All I knew was that it was what I believed in.

But then people started clapping as they got to their feet. When the lights were switched on, I immediately saw Constantijin standing at the back of the room, clapping as well, his eyes warm as he gazed at me.

As Charli took the stage, I could feel Constantijin’s gaze following me, and I became even more flustered and giddy. When I got down, I turned towards his direction – and ended up staring at Arian, whose eyes threw daggers at me.

I quickly turned around and made a detour to George instead. Now was
not
yet the right time to have a face-off with her over Constantijin.

Charli joked about me being the right choice for such a topic. She said that I was a good symbol of America’s "conservative regions" because I couldn’t even utter the word ‘sex’ without cringing.

I blushed on cue and that got the whole crowd laughing even more.

Word quickly got around about the positive outcome of our conference. When George and I walked out of our office, almost everyone we passed by congratulated us.

            Honestly, it made me feel like a superstar.

            A superstar who was walking at snail’s pace because there was this one person who hadn’t congratulated me yet.

            “Yanna?” George called impatiently.

            I paused next to the drinking station. “Umm, I’m thirsty. I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” It was a lie, of course. I was waiting for Constantijin. Surely he should be appearing any moment now?

            Bending down, I gulped several mouthfuls of water. By the time I straightened, someone already stood next to me. My heart started beating fast.

            It was---

           
Not
Constantijin.

            Drake’s grin turned wry. “Disappointed it’s me?”

            I was instantly horrified. “Oh, no! No, absolutely!” God, I sucked at lying.

            His grin widened. “It’s all right. I just wanted to congratulate you. I heard you did a really great job this afternoon.”

            “Thanks.” I was doing my best
not
to blush but it was impossible. The way Drake looked at me never failed to make me feel desirable and self-conscious all at the same time. It was just too bad I already felt like I, well, belonged to someone else.

            Drake cleared his throat and I glanced up in surprise because this was the first time he sounded less than his usual confident self.

            “So…this is going to come out of the blue but I’d really love to take you out sometime – celebrate your future promotion maybe?”

            “There’s no promotion,” I protested laughingly.

            “But seriously, how about dinner?”

            “Uhh…” And that was when I noticed Constantijin standing just a short distance away, his gaze shuttered. Oh, shit! Had he heard Drake asking me out?

            Drake turned around curiously, following my gaze and was visibly startled when he saw Constantijin looking at us. “Mr. Kastein,” he murmured in greeting.

            Constantijin gave us a curt nod before walking back to his office.

            Shit.

            This was so not good.

            Turning to Drake, I stammered, “I’m sorry I can’t. I’m…I’m
going out
with someone already.” There. I had said it. Oh my God – I had said I was going out with Constantijin Kastein!

            Disappointment colored Drake’s tone, making me feel guilty as he said graciously, “Ah. My loss then.”

            When he walked away, I glanced at the door to Constantijin’s office expectantly, waiting for him to come out. But minutes passed and he didn’t.

            Oh.

            Head bowed down in dismay, I slowly walked toward where George might still be waiting. Was he mad? Did he think I was---

            The door to Constantijin’s office opened as I almost walked past it. Before I knew it, I had already been hauled inside, the door slamming shut behind me, and Constantijin was scowling at me, a look of fury and jealousy in his face as he pushed me to the wall.         

            “Constantijin!”

            “Did you say ‘yes’?” he snarled, his hands slamming against the wall at each side of my head, effectively imprisoning me in the circle of his arms – and I knew that there was no better place I’d like to be.

            Shaking my head, I said breathlessly, “No.”

            I so badly wanted him to kiss me now. In fact, I expected him to. Whenever he was jealous, that was what he did. But this time, he kept staring at me and I was starting to get nervous.

            Constantijin suddenly stepped away.

            My heart stilled.

            “This isn’t going to work.”

            Shit. Fuck. Damn. What was he saying?

            It was ironic how those words also made me realize I was halfway to falling in love with Constantijin – had been so from the very start.

            But I had my pride. So I pushed myself off the wall and said stiffly, “I see.”

            “It’s useless,” he continued, raking a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Yanna, I know I promised but---"

"It's okay," I told him tonelessly. What else was there to say? I sure as heck wasn’t going to beg him to come back.