Shades Of Submission: Fifty By Fifty Part 81

Wait, did Mike say penthouse? I had been so excited at getting here that the little detail had pa.s.sed me over as I looked at the nondescript hotel-room-style key in my hand. I pressed a b.u.t.ton for the elevator and a door to my right immediately opened.

I stepped in and looked at the board with the numbers. There was a place at the top that looked like a card scanner, so I placed the key card over it, and a second later there was a beep and a small green light lit up. I took that to be a good sign, and pressed the b.u.t.ton for the 37th floor, the highest in the building. Mike did say penthouse, so that had to be right, didn't it?

The doors closed and the elevator immediately zoomed upwards. This was one of those fancy new high-speed elevators, I knew that straight away. There could be no doubt with the way the numbers on the electronic panel above the door zoomed past.

Seconds later the elevator began to slow down, and the door opened. For a second, I just stared. I'd been expecting to see a wall in some neutral tone, maybe a cheap table with newspapers on it, like you get every single time you step off an elevator.

Instead, I was looking directly into the most amazing apartment I'd ever seen.

"Oh my G.o.d, does he live here?" I whispered to myself as I stepped cautiously out of the elevator, almost as if what was in front of me wasn't real. It didn't feel real. The elevator opened directly into his penthouse apartment! Who had that? Like, in real life. That was something you saw in movies, or that sports superstars had. Never in a million years did I realize that Blake was this rich.

I knew he owned a technology company, and I knew he did pretty well. After all, I'd looked up the cost of the villa I'd stayed at on Grand Cayman, and it was not cheap. Not exactly what someone who usually uses Priceline like me would go for. But I had no idea he did this well.

I grabbed my iPad mini out of my purse and hoped there was a wifi connection. Are you kidding? The elevator opens directly into his apartment, and he owns a technology company. Of course there's going to be wifi.

Unfortunately, when it asked for a pa.s.sword, I was stumped. Then I suddenly remembered Blake had texted it to me when I landed, in my excitement for arriving I thought "yeah, whatever," and just texted back that I couldn't wait to see him.

Pulling out my phone, I opened up my text messages and found the pa.s.sword, and two minutes later I was browsing the internet. Navigating to Google, I did what any girl does in the 21st century and typed in the name of my boyfriend. Not that I was worried that he was some kind of criminal or anything, not this time. I just wanted to see what on earth it was that made him the kind of money I could only dream of.

I typed in the name "Blake Andrews", and, since Andrews is such a common last name, added the name of his company, AmDisk Media, to the search.

Up popped a ton of articles from everywhere imaginable: the New York Times, New Yorker Magazine, Buzzfeed, Inc Magazine, the list was endless. I was half expecting Blake to have his own Wikipedia page when I finished going through the first page of results.

I randomly clicked on a couple of articles, and started reading the crazy story of how my boyfriend got to be so d.a.m.n rich.

The New Yorker magazine article went into the most detail. Blake had grown up in a lower middle cla.s.s family, his father worked as a carpenter while his mother worked as a receptionist a few days a week. Blake had told me all this when we were on the island, so it wasn't a surprise.

His mother had always instilled in him that if you worked hard, you could get anywhere in life. So Blake did, starting with school. He'd gotten good grades, enough to get him accepted to college, where he decided to study computer science.

Dropping out after his third year to start a company with student loan money that was supposed to go towards his tuition, Blake began a company that created websites for small businesses locally.

A couple of years later he moved into software development, and the rest is history. His company was worth an estimated eight billion dollars, and three years earlier he'd refused a buyout offer from Microsoft.

Oh. My. G.o.d. As my eyes scanned the page, unable to stop reading, I could feel my mouth gaping wide open at my screen. Eight BILLION dollars? And as far as I could tell, Blake was the only owner. Blake was worth BILLIONS?

I almost couldn't believe it. Except that here I was, sitting on a couch that probably cost more than one year's tuition for me, in an apartment worth more money than I was likely to make in my entire life. That was some pretty solid proof that this was for real, that Blake Andrews was actually a super-rich technology mogul.

I decided I needed to clear my head a bit. I had no idea Blake was that rich. I mean sure, I'd never asked. And he didn't like talking about himself, and I'm sure if he introduced himself to every woman as "hi, I'm worth billions of dollars," it would make for some bad relations.h.i.+ps. Still, how had I gone this long without Googling him? It had taken until I was inside his multi-million-dollar apartment before I'd realized I was dating a billionaire.

Grabbing my coat, I made my way outside. It was chilly, though not quite as full out cold as when I left Columbus. Putting my mittens on in the lobby, I moved onto the street, and realized I had no idea where I was going, or where I even wanted to go. I had a couple of hours until Blake was going to get back from work and meet me, so I figured if I just made my way down the street for long enough, surely I'd find something. I knew I could just get Mike to drive me anywhere, but this was New York City! I wanted to wander around on my own and discover the city, even if it meant freezing my toos.h.i.+e off to do it.

As I wandered slowly down the street, I eventually came to an intersection with a more commercial vibe to it. Turning down the commercial street I was confronted with little shops everywhere, selling everything I could possibly imagine. My first stop was into a coffee shop, where I warmed myself up with a skim milk vanilla latte that I sipped while sitting on a couch in front of the window, watching people walk by.

My brain was starting to register what I'd read in New Yorker magazine, that Blake was worth billions. I hoped he didn't think I was a gold digger or anything. After all, I had no idea until just then how much he was worth.

Then I started to worry that I wasn't good enough for him. After all, what could a girl like me offer a man like that? I was studying to be a nurse, in Columbus. Men like that dated supermodels, or pop stars. Women who were of their same social status, women who were gorgeous, not just a little bit on the pretty side. Not women like me who had a few curves. Not women like me who were never going to make more than $100,000 per year.

I forced those thoughts out of my head. After all, Blake had chosen me. He could have said on the Island that it was just a fling. He could have admitted he just wanted to have s.e.x with me. But he didn't. And Blake was confident. Blake was confronting. I knew that from the way he haggled with that vendor. I knew men like that said what they meant. And if Blake was just using me for s.e.x, he would have told me. That meant that he actually did like me, that he really did want to have a relations.h.i.+p. There was no other explanation.

Finis.h.i.+ng off my coffee, and feeling a little bit better about myself, I walked out into the cold air once more. Briefly considering turning back and going to his apartment to get out of this horrid cold as quickly as possible, I changed my mind. How many times was I going to be in New York, after all? Hopefully a lot, as that would mean plenty of visits to Blake, but in the meantime this was my first visit, and I was just way too excited. I wanted to see the shops.

I mostly window shopped as I made my way through the streets. After all, I wasn't the billionaire in our relations.h.i.+p. Still, when I pa.s.sed by a gourmet cupcake shop, I couldn't resist going in. A little bra.s.s bell rang as I entered the shop, and I was immediately absorbed into the shop, decorated in pastel colors, with a little display of about three dozen beautiful cupcakes. Good G.o.d, I wanted to try all of them.

A girl about my age came out of the back and smiled at me.

"Hi there, can I help you with anything?" she asked.

"Oh, not just yet thanks. I was just walking by and I saw the shop, and figured I had to come in," I replied, greedily eyeing the cupcakes. I wondered if the red velvet was as good as it looked.

"No problem, if I can help you with anything, please just let me know," the girl replied, standing un.o.btrusively out of the way.

"What is it like, living here?" I asked out of the blue, curious.

"It's awesome. I'm not going to lie. Sure, it's super expensive and I use like almost half my paycheck to pay my rent on a studio apartment in a six floor walkup, but I wouldn't change it for anything."

"Seriously? Wow, I pay like $600 for my studio apartment."

"Yeah, you hear about people like that, and I always kind of imagine you're not real people."

"Well, I am definitely real. I'd love to live in New York."

"I've lived here my whole life. This place rules, and I'm not just saying that. Otherwise I'd leave to somewhere with cheap rent and nothing to do. But this place gets a hold of you. Where are you from, anyway?"

"Columbus."

"Oh cool, I have a sister that moved there. She hates it. Followed her husband. What brings you to the city?"

"My boyfriend lives here."

"Well, let me give you some advice. You should follow him here, and not the other way around."

I laughed as she shot me a grin.

"I'm Julia," I told her.

"Karen. And let me tell you, I hate this job. A bunch of sn.o.bby rich people coming in and complaining because their cupcakes aren't topped with gold for the price. Seriously, who can even afford $4 for a cupcake? I certainly can't. I have to resort to 'accidentally' putting my finger in the icing so it's unsellable whenever I want a treat."

Bursting out laughing, I realized I liked Karen. Though I did make a mental note not to tell her just how much money my boyfriend in question had. I chatted with her for a couple minutes, then realized that if I didn't get going, I was actually going to be late for when Blake arrived, and I didn't want that.

Ordering a box of four cupcakes, I couldn't wait to show them to Blake, they were just too adorable, even if they were super expensive. Karen told me if I started visiting the city regularly, I knew where to find her, and as I left the shop, the little bra.s.s bell ringing once more, I wondered if I hadn't just made myself a new friend.

I speed-walked back to the apartment. In the hour that had pa.s.sed the temperature had dropped some more, and it was now definitely in the "uncomfortably cold" region. The doorman held the door for me once more and I muttered my thanks, feeling sorry for the poor guy constantly having to open the door and let some more cold air in. At least he got to wait inside, I supposed.

When I got up to the apartment, I put the cupcakes on a plate in the kitchen. Everything about it was spotless, to the point that I wondered if Blake cooked, ever. Out of curiosity, I had a look in the fridge. It was practically empty, other than a carton of milk, some ketchup and a couple eggs. Yup, the adage that New Yorkers only ever ate out looked truer than ever.

All those thoughts flew out the window when a second later I heard the elevator bing down the hallway. I walked the two steps over just in time to see the door open. My heart flooded with joy as I broke into a grin and ran down the hallway, throwing myself into those muscular arms I'd missed so much.

My body reacted just as I'd expected it to when I saw Blake again. Our lips met immediately and we were locked together as one, my blood already boiling at his touch.

I closed my eyes as we immediately, silently agreed to strip each other's clothes off and get into bed before we did anything else.

As we lay side by side in Blake's enormous king sized bed that made the one in the Caymans feel like a cot on the floor, he looked at me.

"I hope that was good enough for a welcoming party."

"It was definitely great, I might ask you to do it again once or twice," I teased as I ran my fingers along his chest. G.o.d, that man must spend half his life at the gym, I thought.

"Believe me, it'll be my pleasure."

After a couple of hours and another romp between the sheets, Blake and I decided that perhaps six in the evening was too early to be calling in a night, and got up out of bed.

"I found these, if you need a boost of energy," I told Blake, handing him the plate of cupcakes.

"Oh yum, that's awesome. Thanks!" Blake replied, greedily taking one of the two carrot cupcakes. I took the other one and we moved over to the couch and ate them, looking out the windows that looked upon some of the New York skyline. G.o.d, what a view.

"This place is amazing," I told Blake when we sat down. "Seriously, when I got here I actually Googled you to see exactly how rich you were."

Blake laughed. "Yeah, I guess I never did tell you straight up. In my business everyone knows who I am, I probably got to be a bit full of myself in a.s.suming that everyone else does, too."

"Uh, yeah, I'm pretty sure I would have the same reaction if I was worth literally billions of dollars."

"Well, it's good to know you're not coming after me for my money, since you didn't know until now. It's a change from most of the girls who try to date me."

"Are you kidding? I'm coming after your money now," I joked. "Before I thought you were just moderately rich, not Batman rich."

I smiled as Blake threw his head back and laughed, then doing his best Christian Bale batman impression, answering "I'm not the hero Gotham deserves."

This time it was my turn to laugh.

All my desire to see the city evaporated as I lay on the couch with the man I was falling in love with, and so when Blake suggested we order in, I was more than happy to oblige.

Over the next few days, while Blake had to work most of the time during the day and I did notice that a lot of the time he would get up in the middle of the night, do some work, then come back to bed a couple of hours later whenever he was finished he did everything he could do make my first trip to New York City a memorable one.

The second night when he came back we went to Central Park, where Blake rented one of those horse drawn carriages for me, and we travelled along the paths in each other's arms, the steady clop-clop-clop of the horses hooves drowning out the sounds of civilization that were so close, despite the quiet, pure nature of the park.

We had dinner at a quaint little bistro Blake knew about, where I ate some of the best Italian food I'd ever tasted in my life. Seriously, I could get used to this. Unfortunately, I knew my waistline would suffer if I did.

Of course, as soon as we got back to his apartment Blake and I would rip each other's clothes off and get into bed. He was dominating and powerful, and the more he tied me up, the more he took complete control in the bedroom, the more I loved it. I hadn't realized just how much I enjoyed being tied up, how much I loved relinquis.h.i.+ng control to this rich, powerful and super s.e.xy man who was now in my life.

The next day I got up with Blake before he left for work.

"Hey m.u.f.fin, I'm going to make us reservations somewhere nice, ok?"

"Sure, I'm up for anything," I replied happily. I had actually packed something nice this time, so I was ready in the wardrobe department.

"Listen, I was thinking you should go into town and buy yourself something nice, on me, for tonight."

"Oh, it's alright, I've got a nice dress that I brought that I can wear."

"I'm sure you do, but I want to treat you. Mike's going to come by around 10, and he knows where to take you. They'll be expecting you."

"Oh... ok," I replied, a bit surprised. I was used to Blake's get-things-done att.i.tude by now, and the fact that when he had his mind set on something, he made sure it happened, but I wasn't quite sure what he meant. "Umm, I'm not sure I really have the money to buy something nice," I replied, blus.h.i.+ng slightly. Of course Blake knew I wasn't well off, but it still embarra.s.sed me just a little bit, especially now that I knew just how much richer he was than me.

"I'll be back around 5, and we'll go out at 7, alright?"

"Sounds good!" I answered, kissing him pa.s.sionately as he got ready to go.

"I'm never going to get used to you walking straight onto the elevator," I told him as the doors began to close. I could hear him laughing as the elevator started heading back down to the ground floor.

Despite everything, I couldn't help but feel a bit sad that I couldn't spend every second of every day with Blake. Of course, that was a silly thought to have, and I knew it. No one could possibly want to spend all their time with their boyfriend, and it wouldn't make for a healthy relations.h.i.+p, but when we were on Grand Cayman I'd spent most of my time with Blake, and it was glorious.

Now, in reality, his work was getting in the way. It was something I was going to have to accept, since that was how real life worked. It wasn't all holidays in the Caribbean.

My brain moved on to new things: I wondered where I was going to go shopping that day. Blake had said that Mike knew where to take me. I a.s.sumed that meant Mike was going to be waiting for me down in the lobby, so I quickly dressed into something that looked cla.s.sy, but was also easy to take off in change rooms, a simple pair of nice dark jeans and a blouse, put on my scarf and coat, and made my way down to the lobby.

Sure enough, Mike was waiting once more in that sleek black Mercedes. I felt like a rock star as he opened the door for me. I thanked him, and a minute later we were zipping down the streets of New York. Well, zipping is perhaps an exaggeration. Given as it was rush hour, it was more like crawling. But with the heater on full blast and getting to watch the excitement happening outside from the inside of the warm car, I couldn't have cared less how long this drive was going to take.

A part of me wanted to ask Mike where we were going, but another part of me didn't want to admit that I didn't know. Why on earth didn't I ask Blake for more specifics? I asked, feeling like an idiot. G.o.d, I was like a lovesick puppy, always just beating my eyelids at my man without really thinking anything through. Was this what love was? Constantly feeling silly, feeling giddy in his presence, just being happy that he was talking to me?

I a.s.sumed so. I had never felt that way with Tom, but then again, the more I thought back on it, I was in love with the man I hoped he would be, not the man he was. I had gotten together with him more out of lack of other options than anything else. Of course, I didn't know when I was that young that my life was just beginning, but that's the naivety of youth for you.

When I saw the street sign that said "fifth avenue", I had an inkling that we were getting close to our destination. And my mind was blown. I was going to go shopping on fifth avenue? Wow.

Mike pulled up in front of Nordstroms and I was pretty sure I was going to faint. Here? Seriously?

"I'll be waiting for you whenever you're ready," Mike told me as he got out of the car and opened the door. I felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman when I walked into the huge department store. Everyone else was dressed like a million bucks, and here I was thinking my slim fit jeans and blouse was going to be acceptable.

Suddenly, a sales a.s.sociate came up to me.

"Hi, you must be Julia," she told me.

"Ummm... yes, that's me," I replied. I must have looked as creeped out as I felt by the fact that she instantly knew who I was, because the woman, with short black hair and a Katharine Hepburn face, laughed nicely.

"Oh, sorry, Mr. Andrews phone ahead of time and gave me your description. As soon as you walked in I knew it was you, he has a great eye for detail."

"Oh... ok," I answered quietly. Everything about this situation was so completely overwhelming!

"I'm Suzie, anyway," the lady continued without missing a beat. "Let's get you over here and find you a dress first, and we'll accessorize later."

Before I knew what was going on, I was whisked away among the thousands of aisles of amazing clothes. Suzie took my coat and then sat me down in a soft, comfortable armchair and told me to stay there, that she would be right back with some things for me to try on.

"Don't you need my size?" I asked, realizing maybe she needed that information.

"Oh no, it's alright, I can tell just from looking at you. I've been doing this a long time."

I had to admit, I was impressed. When Suzie came back with a rack full of the most amazing dresses I'd ever seen in my life, they all fit perfectly. She had been doing this a long time.