Billionaires Meet Millionaire (A Steamy Romance) Page 2

  "They're not mumbling about you. They've got better things to do than that." Olta told herself. She was so intent on not losing Niall somewhere along the way that she almost bumped into him when he suddenly stopped. "This is your locker." He pointed at a red metal locker.

  "Umm, ok" Olta said hesitantly, looking at the lock system "And how does this work exactly?" She asked glancing up at Niall. Only now did she notice he was about a head taller than her.

  He looked down at her with a surprised look and she felt slightly embarrassed by it.

  "What's wrong!?” Niall asked with frustration.

  “ We didn't have them in my old school." She replied, her tone surprising herself.

  "Ok, ok, so you really are from Europe then aren't you. You've got the accent and all." Niall looked down at her and Olta felt a slight blush creeping up. The amusement was back in his voice. He really did have a beautiful face and mesmerizing hazel brown eyes, she noticed. He was hot, no doubt and he was making fun of her, no doubt about that either.

  "Pardon?" She said. Niall's amusement spread to his face and he smiled at her.

  "Pardon," he repeated her words mockingly, not taking his eyes of her. "I mean you have an English accent and around here we don't really use 'pardon' anymore. Where you're from anyways? London, Manchester, Liverpool?"

  Olta kept his gaze and she was proud of herself. Even though she had felt her blush deepening she hadn't looked away. And she was proud of the compliment Niall had unbeknownst bestowed upon her.

  "I'm not from Great-Britain actually, I'm from Albania."

  The surprised look returned as he asked.

  "Albania? I've never heard of that country before.” He says, realizing he flunked geography.

  Olta was used to that. Maggie had once said that some Albanians are undiscovered creatures, but Olta as proud to be Albanian.

  “Mother Theresa was Albanian. Don't you know who Skenderbeu is? May I add that my ancestors were the first people in Balkans!?” Olta roared, defending her country.

  “Sorry, I'm not good at geography.” He replied, not ashamed at all.

  “And the reason why I say thing like pardon is because they teach British English.”

  Olta couldn't help smile slightly as she heard Niall recount his extensive knowledge of her country. Still Stone his gaze and feeling her face turn a nice deep shade of red she said, not without sarcasm.

  "Yes, that just about sums it up." Niall smirked slightly as he pulled out one of the sheets Mrs. Rume had given him. He broke their stare and turned to the lock on her locker.

  "Now, this is how it works."

  And, with little over a foot distance between them, he explained the locker to Olta. Not five minutes later she had her own lock number, which Niall also knew as he had set the lock. Niall then went to the locker beside hers and opened it.

  "Ok, his locker is next to mine, ok." Olta thought to herself, trying to keep her face as studious as it had been during the locker explanation. And then, without a word, they were off to their first class. This time Olta needn't to try and keep up with Niall as he quite leisurely sauntered through one corridor after another.

  Olta wondered how she was ever going to find her way on her own and she was glad that Niall was around. Their staring match of just a few moments earlier had cured Olta off her uneasiness towards him. She knew that he didn't want to do this, his behaviour had made that quite clear, but she also felt that he didn't really mind anymore. Or at least she thought she felt that. Then again she wasn't too good a judge of character.

  She noticed Niall was watching her timetable and wasn't looking at where he was going. Yet any student who might be in his way quickly made room for him and glanced her over just as quickly. And sure enough, when they walked by, Olta could hear buzzing starting behind her. So, she hadn't imagined things on the way to their locker after all.

  Then she caught sight of three very pretty girls standing idly against their locker. As they saw Niall coming up all three faces broke into a smile and the girl in the middle straightened herself.

  "Good morning Niall," She said with a flirtatious overtone that both surprised and nauseated Olta.

  "Good morning Altea." Niall replied in a very dull tone not looking up from Olta's schedule and not slowing down. The display interested Olta, but then she saw the three girls caught sight of her and the instant fading of smiles. Olta knew those girls would never be friendly to her.

  "Indeed, Mrs. Rume was right about our timetables, except for the fact that you take Latin. Why in the world do you want to do that? You do know only geeks do that, don't you." Olta looked from the girls to Niall. He looked at her with a mingled look of bewilderment and that same amusement Olta felt herself readily growing accustomed to.

  "Well, in that case, I am a geek. And to add injury to serious insult I would have taken Ancient Greek as well, except for fact that the school doesn't offer it." Olta had no idea where that just came from.

  She was talking easily to a very, very cute guy and she wasn't embarrassed about it in the least. If anything, the look Niall was giving her now was a reward. His eyebrows had risen and he now looked utterly bemused.

  "You, Albania, are weird." He said as he turned into a classroom, which was already completely full. Before Olta had time to react she heard a voice calling.

  "Glad you decided to join us this Monday morning Mr. NiallFoy, but I understand you bring a new recruit to our legions so you are excused for your tardiness."

  Niall quickly and silently moved to his seat and left Olta in the doorway. She felt herself the spectacle of the entire classroom and looked around nervously. She saw the teacher who had called upon them as he was furiously scanning the sheet in his hand. He looked up at her, apparently having found what he was looking for.

  "Ah, Miss Mehmeti, Welcome to this school and into this class." He nodded at her with the slimmest of smiles and beckoned her forward.

  Olta felt the gaze of everyone on her and she nodded in some random direction, not smiling or anything. Oh god, how she loathed this. She looked over at Niall for support, but he had taken out his books and seemed a little preoccupied. Olta slapped herself mentally for a second as she realized that she had letting herself taken in by herself again. Niall was a hot, irresistibly cute guy who had dropped her as soon as he could.

  "Truly now, Olta, did you think for moment that this guy might actually notice you? stupid, stupid you." She mentally chastised herself. But then she heard his last comment in her head again. His tone had held that same amusement and he had called her Amsterdam, hadn't he?

  "Miss Mehmeti, if you please you can seat next to Mr. NiallFoy." She heard her history teacher say.

  Quickly and quietly she made her way to the desk next to Niall, not paying any attention to the other students in the class. "Today we are going to discus Greece and its independence. Please open your books at page 283." She heard the teacher say.

  "Well," she thought "at least my first lesson is going to be cool.” She thought, trying to get in the mind of a punk teenager.

  Niall looked over at Olta as Mr. Took began his story about Geece. He frowned as he noticed that she was completely inattentive to story being told. Instead she seemed very preoccupied with doodling. He had imagined her to be the studious kind, hell everybody was studious in their first hour in a new school. At least the first five minutes. Then he noticed she was mouthing the teacher's words as if he was singing a song she had heard a million times over. Of course, he suddenly realized, she was Albanian; Greece took a part of Albania. Hell, she probably was part of their anthem or something.

  “Class, who can tell me first step of independence for the Greeks?” The teacher asked.

  One third of the class was silent, one third kept biting their pencil, one third kept sliding down their seats… Only Olta kept her hand up.

  A smile was born on the teacher’s face.

  “Yes! Miss. Mehmeti!”

  “Well… It started in 1814 with t
he shoqeria e miqeve.” She said. She wanted to delete the last three words that she said in Albanian.

  “Excuse me?” The teacher asked. He knew what she said.

  “The group of friends? She said nervously with her tongue in between her teeth.

  The teacher smiled at her for a moment.

  “Continue Olta.” He said with joy.

  Niall looked at her time-table again. Latin, who in their right mind would take Latin, he didn't even know they gave the class in school. He glanced at her once more. He pictured her face as she had looked up to him by the locker. He had felt himself feeling drawn to her eyes. They reminded him of the Mediterranean, not quite bleu and not quite green and very alluring.

  "I like her." He caught himself thinking. He shook his head slightly as if to rid himself of the thought. "A bit early in the day for that, isn't it. Hell, you've only known the girl for five minutes and you like her." Niall corrected himself. "Not like her, just like her as in she seems to be a nice girl, who happens to look good with beautiful eyes." He told himself. She seemed different from the usual girls, like the wonderful Altea.

  A kick against his chair that shoved him into his table shook Niall out his reverie. He let out a small hiss of pain as the table connected with the bruises on his body. The painkillers had numbed the pain, but this they couldn't block out. Niall recouped himself and leant back leisurely.

  "What do you want?" He asked his brother behind him coldly.

  "So, this new chick is kinda hot, think you can introduce me later?" His brother's voice was the typical combination of malevolence and glee. Niall felt his stomach churn. He hadn't wanted his brother to notice her.

  "I think you can do that perfectly on your own." He replied with the same coldness.

  "Mr. DanielFoy and Mr. NiallFoy, please refrain from talking while other people, most importantly me, are speaking." Mr. broke of his monologue and expectantly looked from the one to the other. Niall pushed himself forward and gave Mr. a slight nod.

  Mr. picked up where he had left of and Niall glanced at Olta. She had turned to face him, mildly surprised and then she looked behind him. Niall watched as he saw her expression change instantly.

  The mild surprise vanished and for a split second he feared she would break out in a stupid grin. Girls usually did when they were around his brother,or him for that matter. Instead her face seemed to darken and he couldn't place the look she was giving his brother. But it was definitely not swooning and admiring.

  Olta swiftly turned back to face the teacher. She had lost all interest in her doodling, instead she started to stare into nothingness. Niall couldn't help but be pleased to notice her discomfort, knowing exactly how she felt. Turning back to his textbook he tried to tap into his teacher's endless stream of words. Some minutes later he still hadn't succeeded at it.

  But Olta apparently had, for he heard Mr. say in a bored tone: "Yes, Miss Mehmeti, you have a question?"

  Chapter Four

  Olta couldn't believe herself. She was actually consciously drawing the attention of the entire class to herself. She felt her face redden, but what this man was saying, well it simply had to be questioned.

  “A hot geek. You don't see that, that often.” Daniel thought for a moment.

  "Ehm, yes sir," she started hesitantly. "Isn't it so that George Bajron more a symbol of the non-resistance and even rampant collaboration of the Osman population, rather than of an illusory heroic image of resistance?"

  Mr. looked at her with great surprise. Olta noticed a soft murmur going through the class room. She tried to ignore it and kept her gaze at her teacher, who was clearly contemplating her words. The murmur grew stronger.

  After what seemed a minutes he finally said.

  "And how do you figure that?" Christ, had it taken him all that time to come up with just that.

  Olta cleared her throat and replied.

  "Miss Mehmeti, you should be teaching the class." He said rummaging through some papers and having found what he was looking for he continued. Olta bit her lip with fear. Everybody was watching her, she that she was a goddamn bitch.

  “What do they teach you in Albania?” Mr. asked with pleasure. Olta hadn't spoken to anyway about her home.

  “Everything… We start biology, history in grade 3, physics in grade six as well as geography and in grade 8 we start chemistry.” Olta said in a breath. She remembered all the good times she had.

  "I actually had you pinned for a British girl. You're English is actually very good." Again Olta nodded, this time grinning inwardly. It didn't have anything to do with her question, but praise was always welcome.

  "I also see that you have yet to make up for having missed the first two months here. So I propose you write an essay on the matter and I'll make it count. Good now let us proceed to the battle of Kapodistra."

  "Ok," Olta mumbled completely taken aback.

  He actually was not going to go into this? She understood that in the greater scheme of things the matter was quite futile, but he could at least give some kind of feedback.

  "Whatever." she muttered to herself, glancing over at Niall for some kind of confirmation. He however seemed to be engrossed by something on the wall behind the teacher. Returning to her doodling she thought of the fact that there were two Foy's in the classroom. As she had glanced over to the guy behind Niall, Daniel if she remembered correctly, she had indeed seen some resemblance. Twins perhaps or cousins. Daniel had smiled at her broadly when he noticed her looking at him, but Olta thought it anything but pleasurable or appealing.

  There was a glint in his dark eyes which she couldn't place exactly but it had made her very uncomfortable. The mere thought of it shot an icy shiver down her spine. The rest of the lesson she spent doodling in her notebook. She had wanted to keep it clean and tidy, but as she looked down at it as the bell rang, it was a mess of incoherent pen stripes. She really couldn't draw to save her life.

  Standing up she looked over at Niall's seat, only to find it empty. Looking around she didn't notice him among the other students.

  "Figures." She thought to herself bitterly as she was overwhelmed by a feeling of being utterly lost. She headed out and stopped in the hallway. She fished her timetable out of her notebook. She started cursing Niall under her breath for ditching her.

  "You lost?" She heard someone say behind her. She turned around and saw Daniel leaning against the wall, with two other guys next to him. He had same smile on his face and the same glint in his eyes. Feeling very uncomfortable she shifted her gaze from Daniel back to her timetable. Before she could respond she felt someone grabbing her arm lightly and pulling her along.

  "Come on, you're going to be late." She heard Niall say. She immediately fell in line with him, greatly relieved to leave Daniel's presence and find Niall beside her.

  "I had to talk to some people." He said and Olta figured it was his explanation for leaving her alone.

  "Bro, at least introduce me to her." She heard Daniel calling after him. Looking up at Niall she saw a look of great discomfort and displeasure. He responded to the call by putting his right hand up in the air for just a second.

  "So, your brother then?" Olta asked while again making their way through the maze of the school's hallways. She needed to get a map of this place.

  "Kinda. By the way, nice going with in there." Niall said not looking at her, but with smile on his lips.

  " doesn't like taking questions, especially one's that question his teaching. Tends to give out essays instead of answers."