My Cold-Hearted Billioniare

I sat on the couch in the sitting room, my face buried in my laptop, drafting the contract proposal my boss had asked me to write.

For a month now, I had been immersed in this business proposal, writing and rewriting, striving for perfection. It was a big deal for my boss; his nervousness about it was palpable, which was strange since he was usually so confident and unflappable.

I had shown him my drafts twice, only to be sent back for revisions each time because he insisted it wasn't good enough. He emphasized the need for fresh ideas, as the well-being of our company hinged on this contract, and the person who would sign it was a big shot.

We had to put our best foot forward if we were to partner with him and his company. The apartment was quiet; my loud flatmate, Amelia, was out on one of her countless dates, leaving me with the entire place to myself.

After much effort, I finally finished the proposal and felt a surge of confidence and satisfaction. This had to be the best business proposal I had ever crafted. I emailed it to my boss for confirmation, and as I scrolled through TikTok, a notification popped up-an email from him.

Despite my confidence, a wave of nervousness washed over me. What if he had more corrections? I was exhausted from working on this project for the past month! I whispered a quick prayer before opening the email, and the first sentence sent a rush of joy through me:

"Good job, Barbara!" Was I dreaming? He finally accepted it! Oh my goodness! I could finally breathe a little! I strolled into the kitchen, craving a scoop of ice cream from the refrigerator to celebrate my recent success and finally finish binge-watching my favorite series, "Never Have I Ever."

Just as I was about to dig in, a loud, exuberant voice erupted from the sitting room, belting out, "Love me like you do, love love love love me like you do, kiss me like you do, kiss kiss kiss me like you do, what are you waiting forrrrrrrrr!" It was my best friend and flatmate, the queen of drama, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes, accustomed as I was to her theatrical antics.

"Girlllll, who got you singing like this?" I called out, stepping into the living room. She was always hyped up over nothing, convinced that every new guy was her soulmate, only to find herself sobbing in the bathroom a couple of weeks later, cursing the same "final bus stop."

"Girllll, this guy I went on a date with is my future husband! He's just a perfect gentleman and he's into finance!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement. "I'm looking for a man in finance, 6ft, trust fund, blue eyes!" With that, she launched into another song, this one a popular TikTok sound.

"Girl, can you believe he gave me roses when he picked me up? He even opened the car door, the restaurant door, and pulled out my seat for me! Girllll, this is some perfect gentleman shit bruh!" Her enthusiasm was infectious, and for a moment, I found myself believing that maybe, just maybe, this could be the one.

"Oh my God, I am really happy for you, girlll!" I said, my excitement genuine as I shared in her joy. "But we have one little tinny winny problem," she said, squinting one eye and gesturing with her fingers to emphasize just how small the issue was.

"What is it?" I asked, curiosity piqued as I braced myself for the potential flaws of Mr. Perfect. "You know we met on a dating app, right?" she continued, and I couldn't fathom how that could possibly be a problem.

"And?" I pressed, eager to unravel this mystery. "And I have a date scheduled for the day after tomorrow, but I don't want to go because my Mr. Perfect asked for another date that same day, and I said yes, forgetting I already had plans," she explained, her voice tinged with frustration.

"Then just cancel the date with the other guy and go with Mr. Perfect Gentleman," I chimed in, my tone playful and sing-song, trying to show her how easily this could be resolved. My best friend and I were experts at dishing out nicknames and making light of any situation.

"I can't, Barbara! You can't cancel dates on the app; it's one of their rules and guidelines! And you know how wrong it is to stand someone up," she insisted, her eagerness to prove her point bubbling over. I was baffled, unsure of how to help her.

"So, what do you have in mind? Divide yourself into two?" I asked sarcastically. "Noo, Barbara, that's not what I mean!" she laughed, the tension easing a bit.

"That's why I need your help," she added, her eyes pleading. "Me? What do I have to do with this?" I countered, but silence fell as her gaze intensified. "Mely, what do you want me to do exactly?" I pressed again.

"I need you to go on the date with the other guy for me," she blurted out, her words rushing out as if she were trying to prevent herself from taking them back.

"What? Hell no! There is no way in the world I am going to do that," I shot back, my voice tinged with a mix of defiance and resignation. "Barbara, please! You haven't been on dates in ages! You don't even need to like him; just go there, sit down, enjoy your meal, and come back. Please, just do this for me!" she pleaded, her eyes wide with desperation.

"Girl, I don't even know him! What if he's a serial killer?" I countered, grasping at straws, trying to concoct excuses that might save me. "And I'm busy with work," I added, hoping to validate my reluctance further.

"Barbara, nobody is going to kill you in a restaurant with other diners present! And next tomorrow is a Sunday, for crying out loud! It's a freaking weekend! You're supposed to take a break from work, girl! Go out there and live a little for goodness' sake! It won't even be up to two hours, and the date will be over.

Then you can come back and bury your face in that damn computer as usual!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious, and for a moment, I began to see her point. "Okay, fine, I will..." I started, but before I could finish, she leaped onto me in a burst of excitement.

"Girllll, I love you! You're my everything!" she broke into another song, her joy infectious. "But under one condition," I continued, trying to keep a straight face. "What is it? Anything!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm palpable.

"Promise that you won't pull this trick on me again?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Girllll, never in my life again!" she laughed, and the sound was like music, easing my reluctance just a bit more.