Billionaires Meet Millionaire (A Steamy Romance)

  Billionaires Meet Millionaire

  By

  Jason Vasha

  Copyright 2016 Jason Vasha

  All rights reserved.

  Published by SmashWords

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other person. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please delete it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Disclaimer

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Other Books By Jason Vasha

  I’ve Been Waiting

  My Prince, The Billionaire

  Billionaires Meet Millionaire

  Millionaire Pick Billionaires

  This Book is for

  Olta, who is my millionaire.

  Chapter One

  It was typical to see Olta with her mother. She'd never leave her, as she considered her as her rock. You could say that a smile who never leave her mother’s face.

  "Oh my dear sweet mother, have I ever told you that it is utterly insane for you to install this rule?" Olta said, while looking at her mother's back hanging into the refrigerator. In Albania, you only learn British English. To Britain it seemed normal, perhaps Olta was British… But in America it's plain boring.

  "Olta, we've gone over this. Your English is truly up to par, but your sister's is not. Until she is as eloquent as you are, my sweet darling, we are speaking English in this household. Now, drop it." Her mother answered with only the slightest hints of sarcasm here and there. Removing herself from the fridge, she held some zucchini and sweet pepper.

  Olta’s mother knew English since she was young. She truly wanted the best for her children.

  "Now, my dear sweet oldest daughter." her voice now dripping with sarcasm,

  “Mother, just call me Olta. We seem too weird when you say it like that.” Olta said, trying to cover her face with the vegetables.

  "Alright, have I ever told you that you are truly gifted with a knife and vegetables." She looked pointedly at her daughter over the kitchen counter and placed the vegetables, a cutting plate and a knife in front of Olta. Then she turned at her heels and walked out.

  "Yes, actually you have…. Could you do me a favour?"

  “Of course darling.”

  “Stop giving me compliments! It's, embarrassing!” Olta called after her in a sing-song voice. As she started on the zucchini Olta contemplated her first real day in the U.S. of A and she sighed.

  She'd known of that this moment would come for over a half a year and yet it still had come as a surprise to her. At first she had been delighted about it, the prospect of moving away. No more memories of her father to haunt her every step in the house, a fresh start in a new school.

  Yes, it would be great to move away to a country were nobody even knew where on this awful planet Albania were, let alone the city of Tirana. But then things had changed over the past few months. The memories of her father were still there, they would never leave her, no matter where they lived. But a fresh start in a new school didn't seem all to necessary. The bullies had started to lay off and on the fifth grade annual trip to Rome, she even found that she could talk and interact with those same bullies at a whole new level. Had that only been three weeks ago, she wondered, yes it had.

  Only three weeks ago she had been baking under the Italian sun and now here she was in upstate New York. But she had made one decision, though, the mistakes she apparently had made in her old school, she would not repeat. The thoughts of Albania appeared in her mind.

  She always loved the beautiful culture with the music and don't forget the beauty of Vlore, Skrapar and even Shokder!

  Her mind was blocking her movements. The knife accidentally peeled some of the skin on her finger.

  Olta yelped as she felt the knife cutting her index finger and she looked at the cut in dismay, before sucking on wound. "why oh why,' she thought to herself, "wasn't it possible to get trough even one day without some truly stupid act of self mutilation.". Thankfully, Maggie just came bouncing, there was no other word for describing her movements, into the kitchen.

  Olta always loved Maggie, but they were typical sisters that fought a lot.

  "What you do, cut yourself?" She asked, sitting herself down behind the kitchen counter and looking attentively at her sister sucking her finger. Olta slowly removed her finger and caught Maggie's eye.

  "Yes indeed Maggie, I did cut myself. Meg! Wow, it's no wonder that I'm smarter." Not taking her eyes off her baby sister she slid the plate of the partially sliced zucchini towards her.

  "Now why don't you be a dear sweet sister and cut the rest of the veggies while I go in search of a band-aid." Maggie narrowed her eyes just slightly and said in tone that sounded very much like her mother's.

  Maggie couldn't say no. Olta always helped her, she was like a warrior. However, she didn't want to “work”.

  "Of course, no just run along and try not to hurt yourself, Alright?" Olta tried to glower at her, but she knew there was only amusement on her face.

  “I'm not a child, Meg… Just stop it… No wonder you haven't gotten any friends.” Olta said, finally releasing her anger.

  “Alright.” Maggie said trying to act like a woman my shoving her flat breasts up,

  "Why thank you, my dear sister, and please note that you're a cheeky little brat." They smiled at each other knowingly.

  “Do not push it!” Maggie replied, trying to hide her emotions.

  “A normal person would say DON’T PUSH IT!” Olta replied, now tired of this conversation.

  With that Olta went in search of a band-aid.

  ----------

  Niall flipped through his notebook. Again and again and again. He tried to read the words but he just couldn't concentrate on them. The pain in his upper torso and abdomen were seriously distracting him. Annoyed he slammed the book shut and pushed his chair away from his desk. He laid down on his bed, flicking his television on.

  "Why the fuck do it now anyways", he whispered to himself, "I've got a whole weeks worth of detention to catch up." And with that he decided on watching some rerun of Harry.

  Niall and work simply don't go, at all.

  Chapter Two

  Olta sat in the principal's office. She noticed herself getting more and more nervous by the minute. Here she was on her first day in a new school in a new country. She had been here already, the week before. She hadn't been nervous then, going through the motions of admittance talks with principal and the guidance counsellor and who not, but that had not included any interaction with other students.

  Olta had never set foot in an office. Maybe I should get in trouble, that way I'll look cool, am I right? She wondered. Everything was new to her. In Albania you're cool if you break the rules and don't cry if the teacher slaps you.

  Now, she actually had to go into classes and introduce herself. Already she felt their looks of their disapproval and disgust and then there was that damned band-aid on her finger. She ripped it off in one motion and not seeing a waste basket around, she put it in the pocket of her coat.

  "Olta, dear," the principal pulled her out of her trance and she looked up at the dark-haired woman. Mrs. Rume reminded her of her old principal; the main difference being the latter had gray hair already. The principal smiled.

  Mrs. Rume seemed a bit shaky
. Olta was nervous, seeing a crazy woman talking to her. Hopefully first impressions are false.

  "Now, you're guide will be joining us shortly and he'll take you on tow, so to speak, for the rest of week.” Mrs. Rume says. Olta now knew this lady had a heart.

  “Excuse me uh principle but I'm not great with English, so what does guide mean?” She asked, trying not to look embarrassed.

  Mrs. Rume thought it was actually sweet. Her lips curled up while patting Olta on the back. She didn't know how to describe a guide.

  “Well, a guide is a a person who advises or shows the way to others.” She replied.

  As Olta smiled her eyes got bigger.

  “You know, to help you get a handle on this place. I understand your former school was quite small?"

  Olta nodded politely; she was nothing, if not polite.

  "Yes, Mrs. Rume, it was." Just as she was to elaborate on the matter, the door swung open. A boy her age stepped in. He walked straight towards Mrs. Rume's desk, not noticing Olta.

  "You called Mrs. Rume?" He said and Olta noticed his playful tone of voice.

  "That I did, that I did, Mr. Foy and seeing as that you have seriously tainted your record by last week's actions, I really don't see why you are so vivacious this morning."

  Olta noticed Mr. Foy shifting his weight slightly and caught herself thinking that the boy had a nice ass, actually from the back the Mr. Foy looked fine allover.

  "No, no, no," Olta berated herself silently. "You're not going to checking any boy out. Before you know it you'll get crush on someone and get your stupid little hopes up and we all know where that will land you."

  She decided to heed her own advice, but not before checking the guy out just once more. He wore a baggy pair of jeans with a dark green long-sleeve on top and a pair of simple sneakers beneath.

  "God, if his ass looks good in this outfit, he really must have a nice ass." She caught herself thinking as Mr. Foy replied.

  "It's a new day,a new dawn, Mrs. Rume." Mrs. Rume smiled as he quoted some lyric even she knew.

  "Indeed it is Mr. Foy and seeing as I am in very forgiving mood this morning, I am willing to give you a clean slate." Mrs. Rume was still smiling at Mr. Foy and as if in an afterthought, she added: "In return for a favour, of course."

  "But of course Mrs. Rume. And what would I have to do this time?" Mr. Foy replied instantly.

  Olta smiled as she was listening to this exchange. The boy had gotten himself into trouble, boy could get himself out of trouble by.. And then it hit her. Boy would be getting himself out of trouble by being her guide. Could she be any more dense, she asked herself. Confirming her fears Mrs. Rume said.

  "By showing Miss Mehmeti around and helping her out for the next week."

  Niall's expression fell.

  "Showing around some new student, great, just great." He thought to himself. He had not counted on a job that was actually going to deprive him of spending extra time in school. And especially something as down grading as babysitting some new student, Christ, only certain people did that.

  "Now, Mr. Foy, if you would as kind as to introduce yourself to Miss Mehmeti." Niall looked at Mrs. Rume and watched as she pointed her finger at the wall. Following the finger Niall slowly turned around and glanced at the girl standing in front of him.

  "Hi," she said softly barely meeting his eyes. He noticed her outstretched hand.

  "I'm OltaMehmeti."

  He looked from her outstretched hand to her face and to her hand again.

  "Hi, I'm NiallFoy." He said, finally shaking her hand. He caught her eye for a moment, before she drew back her hand and turned towards the principal's desk. He looked her over and noticed they were quite similarly dressed. She wore dark green baggy pants with a black long jacket and black sneakers.

  "Mr. Foy." Mrs. Rume said, directing his attention towards her again, her face looking a little too serious. "I understand that this job." Mrs Rume let a pause. Was the principal being sarcastic here or was he imaging things, Niall wondered.

  "Is beneath you, of course." Another pause and now Niall knew she was being sarcastic.

  "However." Mrs. Rume continued, "Miss Mehmeti is in most of your classes and her assigned locker is in the general vicinity of your locker. That and you're little detention spell this week, seemed to me a good enough reason for you to do this."

  Mrs. Rume looked at Niall expectantly and when she failed to get an answer she added.

  "Or would you rather be put on sweep detail again, Mr. Foy?" Niall got the hint and answered.

  "Of course not, Mrs. Rume. I'll be happy to show Ms…" He briefly glanced over sideways to catch the girl's eyes but she was staring at a seemingly very interesting spot on the floor. "Mehmeti, was it?" He asked and she slowly and very shyly, he noted, nodded her head.

  He turned to face Mrs. Rume again and smiled, slightly forced.

  "I'll be happy to show Miss Mehmeti around." A smile returned to the principal's face as she handed both of them sheets of paper.

  "There you go, Olta, Mr. Foy." She said as she handed the girl the one set of papers and handing the other set to Niall.

  "This is your schedule and your locker and initial number code. Mr. Foy, Niall, will show you how to personalize it. Now of you go, or the two of you will be late for class."

  Niall nodded to the principal, making his opinion about situation known to her by not greeting her politely.

  "Thank you, Mrs. Rume." He heard the girl say softly. She got her bag from under the stool where she apparently been sitting and headed out the door. Niall made to follow her, when Mrs. Rume said.

  "Niall, you take care of her now, she's from Europe." Niall nodded again, unsure what to do with that bit of information. As he closed the door behind him, he found the girl waiting for him, looking at some interesting spot on the floor again and shifting her weight. Well, at least she looks nice, he thought to himself before saying.

  "Come on, I'll show you where you're locker is." Looking at the number he saw that 'general vicinity' had been a slight understatement on the principal's part. It was the one next to his.

  “This can't be real! I'll kill you if you gaze upon his blue eyes… which are like the sea… I'm lost at sea when I look at them… stop it Olta!” She thought to herself.

  “Is there something wrong?” Niall asked her, not caring but he simply wanted to seem polite.

  “Never better.” Olta replied with a fake Barbie smile on her face. She knew she had blown it.

  Chapter Three

  Olta barely looked at Niall as he told her to follow him.

  "Bleeding, bloody hell." She thought to herself, straightening herself as she walked one step behind him. Had she not decided to show a different version of herself, had she not decided to no longer live life in the shadows, had she not..Oh to hell with all the good resolutions. She was the same girl she would always be, no 4800 kilometre relocation could change that.

  And Niall clearly wasn't too pleased about her, so there went that daydream. Well, she berated herself again, that's what you get from swooning all over a guy just by one look at his face. But he did have a gorgeous face though and from what she had seen quite beautiful eyes. And now she noticed that he walked pretty quickly as well and she had troubling keeping up with him.

  They went up a corridor, down a corridor. Left into a hallway and left again, and then a right. All the time Olta had the distinct feeling of being looked at by everyone else in the corridors and she could swear she heard people mumbling.