The Billionaire's Prescription: BWWM Interracial Billionaire Romance (4 page)

Her hazel eyes blazed with fury as she poked her finger into Naomi’s shoulder and said, “BGC didn’t give the ER ten million dollars because of that corny, sappy speech of yours. I know there’s something else going on here, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

Naomi slapped Lily’s finger away, wishing it was the woman’s face instead. “I can’t believe you’re this jealous over another department getting a little bit of attention. For your information, The ER is in greater need of the money than the research center and I’m glad BGC saw fit to give it to us. There’s no underlying agenda or conspiracy except for what your own pettiness makes up in that vindictive mind of yours.”

She could tell Lily was about to respond, but she held up a warning hand. In a voice of pure ice, Naomi said, “Now would you please get out of my way? Some of us have places to be and no time to listen to whining and griping.”

“This isn’t over,” Lily muttered.

“For me, it is.” With a nod to Staci, Naomi stalked off down the hall, shaking with anger. When she got to the elevator, she pressed the button with a vicious jolt, pretending it was one of Lily’s eyes.

“Don’t let that bitch rattle you,” she whispered to herself. “She’s jealous and resentful. You earned this donation fair and square. If BGC wants to donate to the ER instead of the research center, that’s their business.”

By the time the elevator arrived, Naomi had calmed down a little. Maybe the rush of activity over the next hour would provide enough distraction to allow the anger to dissipate even more. She didn’t want to appear out of sorts when she met with the BGC rep. A lot was riding on this meeting, the ER desperately needed that money.

Ten million dollars will go a long way to helping many people in need
, Naomi reminded herself as she rode down to the ER to gather her things.
Just go to New York, get the money and come back home. Simple.

But a nagging feeling in her gut told Naomi things wouldn’t go quite that easy. There had to be some other strings attached with this much money involved. But no matter what hoops she had to jump through or obstacles she needed to overcome, Naomi was determined to return to Philadelphia with the ten million dollars. There was too much at stake for her not to come through on this.

As she stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window and looked out over the magnificent view of the sprawling urban Manhattan landscape and Hudson River, one question echoed through Naomi’s mind: What the hell is going on?

It was a question she’d been asking herself repeatedly, starting when she stepped off the train in Penn Station. She’d just been about to join the long line at the taxi cab stand when a man in a dark suit and cap approached her and asked, “Doctor Redford?”

“Yes?” she asked before seeing the sign in his hand with her name printed on it. “Are you from BGC?”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the BGC headquarters right away.”

Naomi followed him to a black SUV with tinted windows, parked in a choice spot in front of the train station that allowed the driver to pull away from the curb and almost effortlessly join the flow of traffic. Before she could marvel at BGC sending a car for her and its driver’s ability to pick her out in the crowd, they’d arrived at the corporation’s headquarters in midtown Manhattan.

She got out of the SUV, having to crane her neck almost ninety degrees to see the top of the chrome and steel skyscraper. An architectural marvel, Naomi didn’t get much chance to admire the building before the driver got her overnight bag out of the trunk and handed it to her along with a badge and key card.

“The badge gets you through security,” the driver explained, “and the key card provides you access to the top floor where your meeting will take place.”

“Thank you so much.” Naomi fumbled in her purse for her wallet to tip him, but the man shook his head.

“No need, ma’am. It’s been my pleasure.” He tipped his cap, got back into the town car and drove off, disappearing just as mysteriously as he’d appeared in the first place.

Just as he said, the key card and badge got her up to the top floor of the building with no trouble at all. As she stepped off the elevator, a petite woman with strawberry blond hair waited there with her hands cupped in front of her.

“Dr. Redford?” After Naomi nodded, she added, “Hi, I’m Grace, Mr. Bohain’s executive assistant. Unfortunately, he’s in a meeting that’s lasting longer than he thought it would. He told me to apologize to you for the inconvenience and ask if you wouldn’t mind waiting in his office until the meeting concludes and he can join you.”

“It’s no problem,” Naomi said, hoping her voice didn’t betray the confusion she felt. She could have sworn Staci told her the BGC rep’s name was Peter Sanderson. Who was Mr. Bohain?

Yet, Naomi followed Grace to a spacious corner office without asking any questions. She figured she’d meet, Mr. Bohain, Peter Sanderson, and perhaps a few other people before she got her hands on that ten million dollars. She’d meet with however many people it took to get that money.

The corner office was easily three times as big as Staci’s, who had one of the biggest offices at Philadelphia County Memorial. Sleek, modern furniture including a glass L-shaped desk along with the amazing views made Naomi wonder exactly who this Mr. Bohain was. She pulled out her phone and looked the name up on the internet, adding BGC with it into the search function. The results revealed a Matthew C. Bohain, Sr. as the CEO of BGC Pharmaceuticals and a Matthew C. Bohain, Jr. as its president.

Looking around the huge well-appointed and expensively furnished office, Naomi knew it had to belong to the president or the CEO of the company. No mere BGC representative would have a work space as grand as this. But why would she be meeting with one of the heads of BGC? Okay, ten million dollars was a major donation and likely needed the CEO’s or the president’s approval before it would be given to her. Shouldn’t someone higher up the PCM food chain like Staci or other senior executive, perhaps even a board member meet with the CEO or president instead?

She was still trying to figure it out when a familiar baritone said, “Hello, Naomi. Or should I call you Doctor Redford?”

Startled, she turned to find Chris standing in the doorway of the office. “What are you doing here?” she asked, not bothering to hide her shock.

“It’s good to see you again too.” Wearing a charcoal gray suit just as exquisitely tailored as the one he’d worn in Durham, he walked in closing the door behind him. Except for slightly longer hair and the five o’clock shadow which adorned the lower half of his face, nothing about him had changed since Durham.

She watched as Chris went to the wet bar in the corner of the office and fixed two drinks. After he finished, he walked towards where she stood at the window, holding a glass filled with amber colored liquid in one hand. The other glass, filled with clear liquid, he extended towards her. “Vodka tonic’s your poison of choice, right?”

Naomi folded her hands inside her arms and glared. “I repeat, what are you doing here? You can’t stay. I’m supposed to be meeting with Mr. Bohain to discuss . . .”

She trailed off as Chris’ wry smile and knowing expression filled her with a terrible awareness. “You’re Mr. Bohain, aren’t you? Junior, I presume?”

He nodded and gestured towards the glass in his still outstretched hand. “Go ahead and take it. I have a feeling we’ll need these as well as a few more by the time we’re done here.”

Naomi accepted the drink, taking care to make sure their fingertips didn’t touch. The memories were still fresh of how even the lightest touch from him stoked flames of desire throughout her body. She took a gulp of the drink, hoping the alcohol would douse the excitement she felt building up in her at seeing him again.

The smoldering look Chris shot her told Naomi that night in Durham wasn’t far from his thoughts either. However, he sounded casual, almost matter-of-fact when he said, “It’s funny how you didn’t mention you are an emergency room physician in addition to being an accountant. Quite the career combination you have.”

She took another sip of the drink, which had been poured with a heavier hand on the vodka than the tonic. Was he trying to get her drunk? If so, he was in for a rude awakening because no way would they end this night like they had in Durham.
No way
.

Chris paused, as if waiting for Naomi to respond. When she didn’t, he continued. “When I woke up that morning and you weren’t there, I ransacked that hotel room. Surely a princess like yourself would leave her prince a note with her phone number or some other way to get in touch. But when I couldn’t find it, I hurried and got dressed to go downstairs and hopefully find you mingling with all the other accountants. Because leaving me without saying goodbye was an accidental oversight, right?”

Though she hated to do so, Naomi took a huge gulp of her vodka tonic. Because she hadn’t eaten anything since a banana and granola bar for breakfast, she knew she risked getting drunk by consuming alcohol on an empty stomach. But damn it, Chris was getting on her last nerve. She felt guilty enough about leaving Durham without saying goodbye and didn’t appreciate his pouring salt on that open wound. The vodka tonic soothed her growing agitation somewhat.

“I’m sure you can understand my dismay when I couldn’t find you in any of the lobbies or conference rooms where the accountants were meeting. I was just about to give up when and admit defeat when I heard your voice. But it wasn’t coming from any of the accountants’ rooms. No, you were in the ballroom where the medical professionals were meeting. Imagine my surprise when I entered and found you standing at the lectern giving a speech about emergency rooms in inner-cities. Very impressive talk, by the way. I had guessed you were smart, but it was nice to find out you’re perceptive, thoughtful, compassionate and empathetic too.”

The compliments washed over Naomi as if they hadn’t been uttered at all. “Are you done?”

“For now, yes.”

“Good, glad you got that off your chest.” She gulped down the last of her vodka tonic and pushed the glass into his rigid stomach until he had no choice but to catch it with his hands. “Please be sure to make the ten million dollar check out to Philadelphia County Memorial Department of Emergency Services. Don’t just write Philadelphia County Memorial or the money might get diverted to some other department. After listening to you go on and on for the last ten minutes, I figure I’ve earned every bit of that money. I don’t want it going anywhere but to the ER.”

Naomi expected him to get angry or respond with an irritation matching her own. Instead, Chris just laughed and smiled, which flooded her with memories of their carefree moments from that night. She immediately pushed them to the back of her mind, trying to keep her focus on the here and now.

“That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself, ‘Give me my money?’” He chuckled again. “I’ve really missed you, Naomi. Even though you treated me badly and are being so mean, I forgive you because I’m just that happy to see you again.”

A lump formed in Naomi’s throat as he echoed her thoughts. No matter how he’d infuriated her that night in Durham and now here in New York, she’d missed him too and was glad to lay eyes on his handsome face and gorgeous body again.

“Is there any particular reason you didn’t tell me you were a doctor and said you were an accountant?” Chris cocked his head to one side, as if genuinely puzzled.

“Probably for the same reasons you didn’t tell me you were the president of BGC. We were strangers and didn’t want to risk revealing too much to someone we didn’t know.”

Something occurred to Naomi. “I remember asking you that night if you were a drug dealer or a serial killer. You only responded to the serial killer part. You could have mentioned you ‘dealt drugs’ by way of being president of BGC.”

He shrugged. “People treat you differently once you tell them you’re the second in command of one of the largest pharmaceutical corporations in the world. I knew you would have bolted the minute I said anything about it.”

“You don’t know that,” Naomi said, but deep down, she had to admit he had pegged her reaction correctly.

“Regardless, I was being discreet about what I did for a living. You just outright lied.”

“Being the BGC president but calling yourself a ‘successful businessman’ isn’t a lie? Whatever, Chris.” She rolled her eyes before another thought popped into her mind.

“Is Chris even your name? The BGC website lists the president as Matthew C. Bohain, Junior.”

“My name is Matthew Christopher Bohain, Junior.
I
don’t lie,” he said with an emphasis that annoyed her. “My father goes by Matt and I go by Chris. I can’t wait until I have a son so I can call him MC. If I can talk his mother into it, I’ll add Hammer in there so he can go by MC Hammer. What do you think?”

“Go for it. There’s absolutely nothing completely ridiculous about the heir to a billion dollar pharmaceutical fortune running around with the name MC Hammer. I’m sure he’ll command the instant respect of everyone he meets with a name like that.”

“You don’t like it.” Chris pouted. “That’s okay, we have a little while before we start having children. I bet I can get you to warm up to the name MC Hammer Bohain by then.”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”

“Which part? The name or having children? One is very negotiable, the other not so much. I definitely want to start a family, don’t you?”

She ignored the question with a pointed stare to her watch. “Is there any chance the same driver who brought me here could take me back to Penn Station? He drove very fast, and I’d like to be on my way back to Philly as soon as possible.”

Chris sighed and returned to the wet bar where he prepared two more drinks. Naomi considered making a run for it while his back was turned, but knew she’d look ridiculous running away from him twice. When he returned to her side with the refilled glasses, she accepted it from him but didn’t drink. She had a feeling she needed to say clear-headed from here on in.

However, Chris seemed to have no such qualms, because he downed half his drink in one gulp. But his blue eyes appeared clear and direct as they honed in on hers. “Naomi, why are you making this so difficult? Is it so hard to admit we bonded that night and there’s something special between us? I knew it the moment our eyes met in that bar. And don’t bother denying you felt the same way. Otherwise, I’m sure you wouldn’t have come back to my room with me. It wasn’t just sex. There was a connection between us you wanted to pursue just as much as I did.”

“Perhaps,” Naomi allowed. “But I was also under the influence of a bunch of vodka tonics. Alcohol can have you feeling and thinking things which aren’t real.”

His jaw tightened, and she watched his knuckles whiten as he squeezed his glass. For the first time, Chris looked angry. “Is that why you left without waking me up or leaving a note? Because this was just some drunken fling to you?”

“I didn’t know what it was. I left because I’d never had a one night stand before and didn’t want to stick around for the morning-after talk. I figured it would go about as well as our oral sex-pillow talk. Leaving before you woke up seemed to be the cleanest way to end things. I never thought I’d be seeing you again.”

“So you were prepared to walk away, just like that? Our night together meant that little to you? Wow.” Chris’ lips narrowed and he shook his head, appearing genuinely pained. “I’m usually a very good judge of people and situations but I really got it wrong this time. I just
knew
our time together was as special to you as it was to me. I thought once we reunited, you’d see we are soul mates and everything would work out. Boy, did I misjudge this. I feel like an idiot.”