The Billionaire’s Full Figured Desire

“Oh, yeah!” Andrew exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “Someone came in here, about ten AM, looking for you. Gentleman about our age. Thirty, maybe thirty-three. Dark hair, pale skin, sharp suit.”

It could not be a coincidence that Andrew was perfectly describing Terrence. “Did he say what he wanted?” she asked, trying to stifle her happy smile.

“Nope.” Andrew shrugged. “But you should ask him yourself, he’s still here.”

He was pointing out of the doorway. Frida peeked and, out of nowhere, there was! Terrence Harrison, as large as life. He wore a navy blue suit and caramel-colored Oxfords as he sat at Eli’s usual table, under the big antlers. That was a food critic trick, always sit out of eyeshot. That explained why Frida hadn’t noticed him on the way in.

But she certainly noticed him now! And he noticed her too! He smiled as she met his gaze, and gave her a cheeky little wave. Frida left the kitchen and approached the counter, beckoning him to join her. Terrence was only too happy to oblige and approached her genially.

Frida smiled as he reached the counter. “What are you doing here?”

“Food critic business,” he said shortly. “Well, that’s my official reason. Unofficially, I’m here because I wanted to tell you that I really enjoyed yesterday. And…well…that I just wanted to be near you today.”

Frida’s heart swelled at this, and she felt a sudden rush of affection for him. “That’s…really sweet. But you didn’t need to come all the way down here.”

“Gah,” Terrence scoffed at this with no small amount of derision. “Besides, I wanted to see your reaction to my next question.”

“Which is?” Frida asked, arching her eyebrows.

“Would you like to go out with me again tonight?” Terrence asked. “We can get some actual tave kosi.”

The offer was tempting, but Frida reminded herself of what she’d told herself in bed. Her job was important, the most important thing in her life! And she couldn’t afford to risk squandering it, not for anything. She was in the public eye now! What she did mattered!

“That sounds really nice,” Frida admitted. “Really nice. But I’m getting off work at eleven tonight, and I’ll be getting home at like…quarter to midnight.”

“So take off early!” Terrence shrugged. “You’re the boss, right?”

Frida smiled tolerantly. “Technically, yes, but that means I’ve got set an example, not just…ah…take off early whenever I feel like it. And it has to be something extremely important.”

Terrence pretended to look offended. “I’m not important? Wow, I’m offended.”

Frida rolled her eyes. “Be serious.”

“Okay, I’ll be serious,” Terrence agreed. “You would be setting an example. Look, you’ve given this place, what? Three years? And nine straight months without a day off? I think you’ve more than paid the difference in hours worked, I think you can afford to take one day off.”

Frida found herself wishing that she’d thought of this reasoning when she’d been lying in bed. It was extremely hard to argue with. “Okay.” She nodded. “Okay, you’re on. But we’re spending the evening at my place, and I’m cooking the tave kosi.”

Terrence grinned. “I can’t wait.”

Frida grinned back. “Then be a good boy and meet me back here at five this afternoon.”

Terrence nodded and bowed. “My lady, your wish is my command.”

The next few hours rolled by like they weren’t even there, but then three o’ clock came, and for some reason, time started moving agonizingly slowly. By four o’ clock, Frida felt like she’d been working a triple shift! She’d forgotten the pain of this, the agony of the speed at which time moved when you were waiting for something. Five o’ clock rolled around finally, and Frida kept her eye on the door, but Terrence didn’t materialize. Quarter past, and still no sign. At this point, her imagination was going straight into overdrive, playing, and replaying each possible explanatory scenario in glorious technicolor.

At five-thirty, finally, he arrived, wearing a new suit. His wardrobe seemed to be exclusively of suits, or at least, Frida had never seen him wear anything different.

Frida said her goodbyes and already had her coat on, ready to make a move. “You’re late,” she said scoldingly. I guess that means I’ve still got good career options

Terrence grinned abashedly. “Fashionably late.”

Frida snorted. “If you worked for me, I’d fire you for that response.”

“Worked for you?” Terrence echoed. “Honey, you couldn’t afford me. Billionaire, remember?”

The following hours of the night followed the same basic set-up as the one that had come before it, and yet this time there were a lot more jokes, a lot more laughter. And both Frida and Terrence were a lot more comfortable with each other. They talked all the way back to Frida’s, and he entertained her in the kitchen while she cooked. When dinnertime rolled around, Terrence finally got to sample her take on the popular Albanian dish, tave kosi, only with boned meat and parmesan cheese sprinkled on top.

As expected, the dish was delicious, and they began to wind down by relaxing on Frida’s sofa with a bottle of Cherval Blanc wine and the television on. Sipping wine from her glass, Frida found herself saying a silent prayer of thanks to whatever God’s were listening that she had agreed to play hookey, as it were.

That day had been one of the best that she’d had in a long while, and more than ever before, she was feeling a closeness to Terrence that just couldn’t be expressed in words. For a while, they sat snuggled together, her head rested on his shoulder. Then she moved her hand until it was in his lap. Frida didn’t even mentally register what she was doing, until she felt something twitch under her hand, and realized her hand was resting right on Terrence’s crotch.

Their gazes accidentally met, and in that instant, she just let her instinct take over. She leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips.