The Billionaire's Sweet Trouble

11

Sebastian

"Cancel it," I ordered.

"Are you sure, sir?" James looked confused, his eyebrows raised questioningly, "you can't get the place on Saturday night anymore if you change your mind again. The manager will open the restaurant to the customers."

"I won't change my mind. Cancel it, including the Museum reservation and the flowers," I leaned back on my chair with my legs on my desk. My fingers rubbing my forehead.

I got a headache from always thinking about this damn date in the past three days; I did not know what to do anymore. Either to impress Sweet Treble or would not give a damn at all.

"Sure, sir. Whatever you say," James agreed, but looked puzzled, "but may I ask what changed your mind?"

"Yeah, I want to know too," Max sat on a seat in front of my desk, across from James, "because it was a good plan already."

"It's too early," I sighed heavily, "we just signed our contract a few days ago. It made me sound so eager to date her."

Max gave me an 'aren't you?-look' but said, "I see. So you want to do it not this coming Saturday, but next. Well, that would take ten days out of the three months- term."

I pressed my lips together. "That's rather long."

Both men agreed.

"What am I going to do?" I groaned, drumming my fingers on my desk, "I think I got carried away closing a restaurant on Saturday night just for the two of us. Having an art museum open only for us in the evening, and ordering a bouquet of 100 red roses for her."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate your romantic gestures," James said.

"Come on, James... I'm not a romantic guy," I stood up, pacing in front of the two men, "I had dinner dates, but it would be the first time to close a restaurant only for a woman — or go to an art museum. I don't even send flowers. That's not who I am."

"So? Everyone experiences a first time," Max pointed out.

"You don't get it," I stopped pacing and faced the two men, my arms clasped together, "she hates me. She's not even attracted to me."

"How can you be so sure? Women usually find you attractive," Max leaned back, his eyebrows raising.

"Thanks, Max," I shook my head, "but believe me, she doesn't. I know when a woman does, and she never showed a sign. Not even a single bit."

"I noticed that too," James confirmed, grinning. He stopped when I glared at him.

"Yeah, I agree. She's different from the women you've dated," Max rubbed his chin, "but why does it bother you? It's not a real date. She has a job to do - that is cleaning your reputation through progressive interviews. You don't need to impress her."

"I agree," James nodded his head, "just invite her to join you in things you usually do. That would serve the purpose of the deal. She'd get to know you more that way and write good stuff."

"Besides, a dinner date is awkward. You hate each other," Max suggested, "imagine, facing each other for an hour. You're obligated to express your personal thoughts and opinion... and of course, to find a safe topic for the both of you to not end up stabbing each other."

"Correct. Don't break your routine," James continued, "you usually do sports on Saturdays. Let her join you and see your world. It doesn't have to be a date-date. Let her hang out with you... probably with the group. She could be at the side watching and writing good stuff about you - that focuses on your physical activities, hobbies, adventures and relationship with others, and not just your personal thoughts."