The Billionaire's Mistaken Mistress - Part 1 (Contemporary BWWM Romance) Read online

  “You little slut,” Kimberly growled. “He likes actresses. Is that what you are? Some aspiring actress who wants to make it in the business but needs a sugar daddy to fund her career?”

  “Is that why you married him?” Jessie shot back. The whole diner took in an audible breath at the same time, and from one of the counter's barstools a kid who appeared to be in his late teens let out an, “Oh, snap!”

  “How dare you?” Kimberly advanced on Jessie who took a step back, trying hard not to spill the soup, her hands trembling from the unexpected confrontation. “You just keep out of my life! Stay away from my husband and our home, you ghetto whore. I saw the pictures you posted. You're trash, and if John had anything to do with you it was purely physical and it meant nothing.” Kimberly blasted the word “nothing” into Jessie's face.

  Just like that, Kimberly Harwood blew out of the diner along with her entourage. In a testament to her work ethic, Jessie's first thought was to deliver the two bowls of soup she was holding but the unsettling incident had rattled her so badly she mistakenly set them down on the wrong table.

  “We didn't order this,” the man sitting across from a woman who was presumable his wife remarked kindly, seeming to understand and forgive the mix-up.

  “If that's the chicken soup,” someone called across the diner, “you can take it back. I'm sure it's cold by now, and I also don't want Kimberly Harwood's spit in it – even if she is hot.”

  The diner burst out in laugher, the silence broken by the young man's quip, and Jessie turned to see Melanie cackling hysterically at the cash register. Burt, on the other hand, did not find the incident so funny and his face was red with anger. Beckoning with his finger for Jessie to follow him outside, he led her through the kitchen and into the alleyway out back.

  “Burt, this has nothing to do with me,” Jessie said before Burt could even open his mouth. “I don't know that woman, and I've never met her husband in my life.”

  “How can you say that?” Melanie's voice chimed in from behind them. Not one to miss out on drama, she had followed them both and stood with one hand leaning on doorway while holding up her cell phone.

  “Back off, Melanie,” Jessie snarled on her. “This has nothing to do with you.”

  “Well, it's got everything to do with the rest of the world, girl. Do you have any idea how many people saw your little messages to your boyfriend on Twitter?” Melanie waved the phone in her hand. “You know, you really gotta' be careful about what you tweet. These things have a way of getting back to wives and getting them all sorts of pissed.”

  Jessie stepped towards Melanie and grabbed for her cell, but Melanie quickly pulled it out of her reach.

  “What is that? Let me see,” Jessie demanded.

  Melanie held her phone in front of Jessie's face, and Burt leaned in to look at it as well. There were streams of tweets, all made by Jessie, directed at the Twitter account of John Harwood. In each of them, her tweets told the story of how they met, how Jessie was madly in love with him, and how she couldn't wait for the day he'd leave his wife — just like John had promised.

  “This is bullshit!” Jessie said, finally grabbing the cell phone out of Melanie's hand. “I don't even have a Twitter account!”

  “Well, that's your picture, isn't it?” Burt demanded, looking even closer, his eyes squinting to make out the photo on the small screen.

  “It is, but someone clearly got hold of it somehow and I'm going to find out who!” Jessie could see quite plainly that the picture was indeed of her. It was a rather salacious one of her in very scant underwear that left little to the imagination. It had been taken by an ex-boyfriend two years earlier during a weekend away, and she had no idea how anyone could have gotten hold of it.

  “Stop ogling this picture, Burt,” Jessie fumed as she handed the phone back to Melanie. “This is someone's idea of a sick joke, and whoever it is better take the profile down.”

  “Whoever it is?” Burt replied incredulously, still visibly upset. “Whoever it is better watch out they don't lose their job by doing crazy stuff like this and causing a commotion in my diner. I don't want anything like this happening again, Jessie. You fly off the handle in front of customers, you come in an hour late at my busiest time, and now you've got women coming in here and accusing you of adultery.”

  “Burt, please. You know me. I couldn't do a thing like this,” Jessie pleaded.

  “All I know is I'm trying to run a business and this doesn't look good. I'm sorry, Jessie, but you've got one last chance. Anything else and you're out of here.”

  “But...” Jessie began.

  “I don't want to hear another word. Melanie, you get back to work. There's still a half an hour to the end of your shift and a room full of hungry people. Jessie, you get out of here and the next time you come in, I want a new attitude,” Burt said with a stern face while pointing a finger at her.

  Jessie nodded her understanding as Melanie shook her head disapprovingly at her and placed her phone back into her pocket. The two scurried back inside, and Jessie stopped by the back room to collect her things. After removing her apron off, she slipped her cardigan on over her uniform. She began to shove her apron into her bag, and that's when she noticed the assignment she'd spent the previous night slaving away over.

  “Shit,” she said under her breath, scolding herself for sleeping through her bus ride into school. She'd worked so hard on it this paper, but since it would be handed in late there would be an automatic decrease in her grade. Any more delays and she was likely to receive a failing grade that would tarnish her otherwise fantastic performance.

  Wearily, she got onto the bus and sat through the hour-long journey to her college. The ride gave her plenty of time to reflect on the bizarre events of the day, and she had a plethora of questions she wanted answers to. On the ride back home, she fell asleep on the bus but was lucky enough to wake in time to get off near her apartment building.

  She thought long and hard about the past few days. It was as if the world was conspiring against her. She knew she had to keep on top of things. There was no way she could lose her job now, and there was no way she was going to allow herself to drop out of college, either.

  Chapter Three

  Two days passed without incident, and Jessie foolishly thought the whole Harwood Twitter nonsense had been forgotten. Unfortunately for her, it hadn't. Somehow the press had picked up the story, and although it wasn't front page news, it was still in the city's daily paper. The interview with Kimberly Harwood was titled “The Other Woman Almost Ruined My Life,” and the piece featured a photo of the confrontation between her and Kimberly in Burt's Diner. Her mind raced back to the faint sound of a camera she'd heard during the ordeal, and she wondered if whoever snapped it made any money from the picture.

  Earle Jackson of table four had evidently read the interview, much to Jessie's chagrin. Like clockwork, lunchtime rolled around and he was back in the diner to tormenting Jessie as usual. If he wasn't trying to make a grab for her as she passed his table with an order, he was asking her for the millionth time why she wouldn't go on a date with him. He'd lingered at the table longer than he normally did, quickly getting on Jessie's last nerve with his obnoxious comments.

  “Can I get you anything else?” she asked him with a heavy sigh.

  “Yeah, what about some of what you've been giving the billionaire dude? Why are you still working here anyway?”

  “What do you mean?” Jessie replied while attempting to keep her cool.

  “With the amount of money he's got, maybe you should ask him for a raise for your 'services.' You know what I mean?” Earl cruelly joked.

  That was the final straw for Jessie. She reached to the center of his table and, picking up the plastic bottle full of ketchup, aimed the nozzle at his face and squeezed with all her might. His hands shot to his face, attempting to block the stream of red tomato sauce as he screamed and jumped out of his seat. Jessie did not relent, emptying the contents of the
bottle all over Earle's face and sweaty white t-shirt.

  The whole diner was in an uproar. Jessie's heart was pounding, adrenaline surging through her along with a wave of excitement mixed with fear. She'd never done anything like this before, and standing up for herself felt damn good. Knowing she likely just lost her job, however, didn't feel very good at all. With the reality of what she'd just done sinking in, her head dropped slightly knowing she'd just sealed her fate.

  It didn't take long for her to spot Burt standing on the other side of the counter. He had shot out of the kitchen at the sound of Earle's yell, and at the sight of the crass but loyal regular covered in ketchup, his face turned as red as Earle's freshly-stained shirt.

  Slowly, she put the spent condiment bottle down, walked to the counter, and looked at Burt apologetically as Earle rushed off to the bathroom to clean himself up the best he could. Burt leaned towards her and pointed to the door.

  “Out,” he said in a low voice. “Get out before I throw you out, and don't come back. You hear me?”

  She said nothing. Angry tears were welling in her eyes as she hurried to the back room to get her bag with every pair of eyes in the diner locked on her. She pulled off her apron and made a grab for her cardigan and bag.

  “Leaving already?” Melanie asked with a sarcastic smile. She had just arrived and was about to start her shift.

  “I got fired.” Jessie stopped just in front of her, but didn't maintain eye contact.

  “I guess Burt finally realized you were too big for your britches,” Melanie sneered. “Maybe now you can get the job you deserve.”

  “And what's that supposed to mean?” Jessie shot back.

  “Well, everyone thinks you're John Harwood's mistress so maybe now you can go and apply for the job, girl. You need the money, don't you? Shit, don't tell me you'd say no to a guy like him. Is he beneath you, too?” Melanie said with a devilish grin.

  “Get out of my way, Melanie.” Jessie growled as she barged past her beaming ex-coworker. Melanie barely moved, merely snorting as she watched Jessie's proud figure marching out of the diner. Jessie walked past Burt without saying a word, trying hard to maintain her dignity as patrons murmured all around her, likely commenting on what had just transpired.

  The moment Jessie got outside she realized the gravity of the situation. What the hell was she going to do now? For as often as Burt threatened it, she never quite believed he'd see it through. Fired? She needed to pound the pavement and look for a new job or she'd have no money to pay her rent, let alone buy food.

  Something else was adding to her feelings of anger and worry, though. Jessie was sick and tired of her new unjust association with John Harwood, a man she hadn't even met. She wanted so much to look him in the face and say, “Hey, look what you and your crazy bitch of a wife have done to ruin my life!” She wondered if a man of his wealth and stature would even care. Hell, maybe his psychotic wife had fabricated all of this just for the publicity and had chosen Jessie's name at random.

  Why should she allow these rich elitists to bully her in this way? Without giving it a second thought, she jumped onto the first bus headed downtown. She was going to the busy banking district, straight to John Harwood's office, to see how he liked his life intruded upon by a total stranger.

  Upon reaching the impressive skyscraper that housed Harwood Finance, Jessie looked up at the seventy-four story building took a deep breath. She had been incensed just twenty minutes earlier, but now that she was so close to the person she held responsible for her losing her job, she was more nervous than angry. As Jessie stood gazing up at the tower, a woman in an expensive suit approached the building, looked her up and down, and entered with an air of superiority. Jessie's blood began to boil once again. She rushed into the enormous marble lobby, made a beeline for reception, and demanded to see John Harwood.

  “Do you have an appointment?” The receptionist was tall and elegant with straight black hair and olive skin, her coral lipstick applied thickly to very thin lips. She was quite beautiful and seemed pleasant enough. Jessie tried to calm herself so she wouldn’t take her frustration out on the woman.

  “Yes, tell him his mistress is here.” Jessie casually instructed.

  “I beg your pardon?” The receptionist's dark eyes widened in shock as she glanced around the lobby to gauge if anyone had overheard the request.

  “I said, tell him his mistress is here. Don't you read the papers? I'm Jessica Drew. I'm his mistress, and if he won't see me, I'll scream until he comes down here,” Jessie threatened through gritted teeth while retaining her fake smile.

  Nervously, the receptionist picked up the phone, dialed a short number, and spoke in a hushed voice to someone on the other end with her hand covering the receiver. Jessie hovered by the reception area and, within minutes, an attractive blonde woman in a business suit strolled into the lobby, smiling pleasantly at the self-proclaimed mistress.

  “I'm Heather Bryant, Mr. Harwood's personal assistant.” She extended a hand to shake Jessie's, but Jessie merely looked at it before glaring defiantly back at the woman. “If you would follow me, Mr. Harwood will see you in his office,” Heather Bryant continued as she turned and headed towards the elevators. Jessie followed, scowling at the receptionist who stood with her mouth agape, overdramatically holding a hand to her chest as if she couldn't breathe.

  They quietly rode the elevator up to the top floor, both staring straight ahead at the brushed stainless steel doors. After what felt like an eternity, the doors finally parted with a ding and Jessie's first thought was that she had entered an art gallery rather than a place where people conducted business. Marble floors and pillars matched the lobby, with an array of stone busts scattering the hall on stands of varying heights. Large plants grew out of decorative pots, and impressive paintings lined the walls. Heather Bryant's heels echoing along the hallway were a stark contrast to Jessie's squeaky sneakers.

  They came to a set of tall mahogany double doors and Heather Bryant opened them without knocking. She stood aside to motion Jessie in, and closed the doors behind her before leaving. Jessie stood in a vast office with a huge desk situated in front of a floor-to-ceiling window that was just as wide as the spacious room. The view was incredible, and the massive window let in so much natural light that the overhead bulbs likely didn't serve a purpose until sunset. She took a breath and looked over her shoulder at the closed doors. What was she supposed to do now, just wait here?

  “Come and take a seat,” a deep, commanding voice shot through the silence.

  Jessie's eyes darted around the room before realizing the voice had emanated from behind the desk and belonged to whomever sat in the high-backed leather chair that faced the giant window. She took two steps towards the desk as the chair began to swivel around until the voice that had startled her moments earlier now had a face to go along with it.

  She recognized him instantly from the pictures in the papers and from his countless television appearances. This was John Harwood himself; the genius banking magnate who got his start working in the mail room and had worked his way up to owner and executive chairman of Harwood Finances. His quick ascension was likely due to his father, Mark Harwood, being the founder of the company, and she suspected nepotism played a large role in John's quick rise to power.

  “So,” he greeted. “you're my mistress? Please, take a seat. I'll have someone bring us drinks.” He stood up, revealing himself to be much taller than she'd expected, and gestured towards the two chairs that sat in front of his excessively large desk. She waved a hand at him dismissively.

  “I won't be here long enough to require any hospitality. I just came here to have you deliver a message to your wife for me. I want you to tell her thanks for ruining my life, and to stay away from me.”

  “Excuse me?” he replied curiously while taking off his glasses. Through them, Jessie and already seen how brilliantly his piercing blue eyes shined. Without them, she now noticed the well-defined cheekbones and strong ja
w his handsome face featured. His dark hair was neatly trimmed, and though he must have been in his mid-thirties, the formal shirt and tie he wore made him look slightly more mature.

  “Did you know she came into my workplace and accused me of having an affair with you?” Jessie asked in irritation.

  “I heard. I'm sorry. My wife can be rather… erratic… at times. She made it her mission to track down the source of those crazy tweets.” He sat back down and added, “It turns out the IP address was traced to that diner you work at, so if you didn't make them then somebody there did. Either a customer or coworker. Either way, she shouldn't have come to your workplace, and for that I'm truly sorry.”

  “First of all, no, I didn't tweet any of that nonsense. Anyone who knows me knows I don't do the whole social media thing. Hell, I don't even have a Facebook account. And you're sorry? No one is more sorry than me. Thanks to her wild accusations, I wound up making the news and got fired.” Jessie wanted to come across angrier than she was sounding, but up close and personal John Harwood actually seemed like a decent person and he had been nothing but polite to her so far.

  “What? Why would your boss fire you for that?” he replied skeptically. “I can't imagine anyone actually believes that ridiculous story. That doesn't make sense.”

  “Well, I did just squirt a bottle of ketchup all over a pervert at the diner who seemed to think that the story was true, so there's that.”

  “I see,” John Harwood said with a chuckle, placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his fists as his voice grew serious again. “So, it wasn't the story that got you fired, it was you basically assaulting a patron.” He nodded mournfully, but she could tell he was on the verge of smiling.

  “Don't mock me.” Jessie squinted her eyes. “I was pissed. I couldn't help it. All of those lies caused this, and they all came out of nowhere. I mean, I didn't post anything about us online. Why would I? I don't know you and, no offense, I don't care to know you. Like I said before, I don't even use social media. Take a look at my phone,” she insisted as she fished it out of her pocket. “Look at what an antique this thing is. It can't even get online, so there's no way I could have posted any of that crap from my work. I didn't do this.”