Mister Moneybags

She was falling for two men.
Only, both men were me.
And when she found out, we were both going to lose her...

She was falling for two men.
Only, both men were me.
And when she found out, we were both going to lose her...

I met Bianca in an elevator.

She was on her way to interview me when we got stuck.
The beautiful raven-haired reporter assumed I was a delivery guy because of the way I was dressed.

She had no clue I was really Dex Truitt, the wealthy, successful businessman she’d dubbed “Mister Moneybags”―her afternoon appointment.

Bianca told me how much she hated Dex’s type―snobby, over educated, silver-spooned men who didn't appreciate the simple things in life.

So, after the elevator finally started moving again, I cancelled the interview and let her believe I was someone I wasn’t―a bike messenger named Jay. I loved the way she looked at the fake me and didn't want it to end.

I began dating her as “Jay”―all the while letting her interview the real me over email.

I didn’t expect that our chemistry online would be just as hot.
I didn’t expect the mess I’d gotten myself into.
I didn’t expect that Jay and Dex would fall in love with her.

And she was falling for two men.
Only, both men were me.
And when she found out, we were both going to lose her.

Nothing could have prepared me for that day. And I certainly wasn't prepared for what came after.

All good things must come to an end, right?
Except our ending was one I didn't see coming.

“Sorry. It’s a technique I use to fend off the panic — screaming at the top of my lungs.”
“That’s the best technique you have?”
“I have a few different techniques. I can also massage my balls."
“Excuse me?”
“I have balls. Massaging them really helps.”
“Your… balls? You looked like a woman to me, pretty damn shapely from the back, at least.”
“They’re Boading balls. Metal meditation balls. I massage them against each other in a circular motion in my palm. It helps calm me down.” I began to frantically search through my purse.
“What’s all that rustling?” he asked.
“I’m trying to find them. They’re somewhere in my bag.” Without light, I wasn’t able to easily locate them. “Shit, where are they?”
He chuckled. “I have some balls you could massage if you’re in a pickle.”

“Just because someone is rich and powerful doesn’t make them a bad person.”
“It’s not just that.”
“What is it, then?”
“Let’s just say, I’ve done my homework for this interview, and I have first-hand knowledge the guy’s an asshole. It’s too much to get into.”
Fuck. My pulse was starting to race. I needed to know why and she had such preconceived notions about me. She definitely couldn’t have suspected that I was Dexter Truitt, given the casual clothes I was wearing after the gym. I looked like a fucking bike messenger instead of the CEO of a multi-million-dollar empire.

“Sweet dreams.” I sounded more like a teenage boy than a mogul. Unprofessional, but I really didn’t give a shit. I’d almost called her Georgy Girl, too. That’s Jay’s nickname for her, you dumbass. That cocksucker, Jay. Laughing to myself, I thought about how insane this was. Dex hated Jay because he would be spending time with her in person soon. And Jay fucking detested that rich prick, Dex, for abusing his power to get to know her better.
…
Jay had a date with Bianca for two nights from now, and Dex was gearing up for his 11PM chat. What had this woman done to me?

“I’ll be going home to my house and curling up under my sheets with a four-legged beast who seems to think my bed is his. I will be praying to God that you find it in your heart to forgive me. And I’ll wake up tomorrow morning, seizing the new day and trying like hell to get you to give me a second chance.”

"No matter what, you are the love of my life. No one will ever replace you.”

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“Sorry. It’s a technique I use to fend off the panic — screaming at the top of my lungs.”
“That’s the best technique you have?”
“I have a few different techniques. I can also massage my balls."
“Excuse me?”
“I have balls. Massaging them really helps.”
“Your… balls? You looked like a woman to me, pretty damn shapely from the back, at least.”
“They’re Boading balls. Metal meditation balls. I massage them against each other in a circular motion in my palm. It helps calm me down... I’m trying to find them. They’re somewhere in my bag.” Without light, I wasn’t able to easily locate them. “Shit, where are they?”
He chuckled. “I have some balls you could massage if you’re in a pickle.”

“There’s a first. Not sure a woman’s ever called me sweet before.”
“That’s the thing with you, Dex. On the outside, you appear to be something very different than what I keep catching glimpses of on the inside.”