The Paparazzi

Ben

“I'm sorry, wha–”

I hung up on her, reclined in my chair and released a deep sigh of victory.

What I wouldn't give to see the look of anger on her face right now. The woman was a complete piece of work, and she was stubborn. It was high time she got a taste of her own medicine.

She was still trying to process the news and definitely start something when I ended the call; I wasn't going to give her the chance to protest.

I didn't like the obvious mess I'd gotten myself into with this arrangement. I have no interest in being in anyone's space, especially not a woman's. But I'd do anything for my father, and for the company.

So, unfortunately for me, I needed her.

But I would never let it show that I really needed her that bad, or she would smell my desperation and use it against me. I didn't doubt that because she already showed me what she was capable of.

This was a game and I know all about that too well. And I'd never be caught hands down. Never again.

It was late and I was still in my office trying to finish up some paperwork. I was exhausted from the day's work and needed rest and relief.

It was time to go home.

I picked my phone and texted my chauffeur.

Meet me at the office in 20 minutes.

15 minutes later he pulled up at the entrance and rushed to open the door for me. I gave him a nod and entered, settling comfortably in the back seat.

He took the wheel, backed out of the driveway and exited the company gates, headed for the highway.

I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat, thinking about my schedule for the next day. But an unpleasant odor soon assaulted my senses.

It had better not be what I was thinking or I would fire his ass right there.

“Did you fuck a woman inside this car Jerry?”

His shoulders tensed and his hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. He briefly turned to look at me and I saw his eyes widen with surprise and then fear. “N–no sir, I would never–”

“Was a woman in this car or not?”

“Yes sir, but it wasn't–”

“Then what is that disgusting smell I perceive?” I watched him closely through the front mirror. Clearly he was lying and my anger started to rise.

His eyes darted from side to side and he bowed his head slightly, trying to avoid my stare.

Why is everyone trying to lie and deceive me lately? Did I have an invisible sign on my neck that says: ‘Gullible’?

First my fake wife, and now my staff?

What an ungrateful bunch.

“Stop the car!” I was fuming.

The sound of my voice must have shocked him because the car came to a screeching halt on the side of the highway, almost hitting a boulder.

“Get out.” I ordered and came down. I walked around to the driver's side and took the wheel.

“Please sir, I can explain,” he begged.

“You had your chance.” I slammed the door in his face and sped off.

It's always a woman causing problems. And men always seem to fall prey to their deception.

But not me. I had become well versed in the wiles of women and would never be taken for a fool ever again.

It was 9:00 pm when I finally pulled into my driveway. I handed the keys to the valet who was waiting and entered the mansion. Everywhere was pristine and quiet: just the way I like it.

I headed straight for the dining area, loosening my tie as I approached the table. Jerry had successfully worked up a hunger I didn't know was there.

Settling in my chair, I unbuckled my belt and rolled back the sleeve of my white shirt, ready to dig into the nicely presented food the maid was putting on the table. She stood behind me and waited.

A steaming hot pasta dish sat at the center of the cozy dinner table, radiating a savory aroma that tantalized my taste buds.

Fettuccine Alfredo, cooked to perfection, glistened with a rich, creamy sauce that clung to each strand like a warm embrace. The noodles twirled invitingly around the fork, as if beckoning me to take a bite.

“You can go.” I waved the maid away.

I stretched my hand to take a bowl of salad, but another hand came out of nowhere and slapped my hand away. I looked up in disbelief.

It was none other than Mama Canda.

Mama Canda had been mine and Benjamin's nanny from childhood. In fact, she was there in the hospital room when we were born. Growing up, I became very attached to her. She was practically family at this point.

On our 20th birthday, my father had asked her to choose between me and Benjamin, who she'd follow to start our own families and lives. She chose me, and Benjamin nearly burst with envy.

Looking back now, I had no doubt he deserved it.

She was allmost 65 years old, but nothing seems to get past her, so I gave her a questioning look. “Mama Canda, I have no interest to listen to your nagging right now.”

I reached out to take the bowl again but she slapped my hand away, again.

“What do you think you're doing Benedict Pierce?”

She always called me Benedict, never Ben. Or she would call my full name when I got in trouble.

“Trying to eat?” I was perplexed.

“Go wash those filthy hands of yours.” she said, and waved me towards the sink like she was driving away chicken.

I took a deep breath and got up.

She took a seat and began to dish the food for me, making sure to leave it the way I usually like it.

She still treated me like the little boy she nannied, forgetting I was now an adult.

I came back, sat down and began to eat.

Mama Canda watched me with a smile on her face. I ignored her and continued to eat.

“Is it true?” She asked, still smiling.

“Is what true?” I wondered what she was on about.

She fished out a crumpled paper clip from behind her and straightened it out on the table before me.

I adjusted my glasses and tried to get a good look at the paper. She pointed at an image of a man in a navy suit, standing with a woman. The man looked like he was very interested in whatever the woman was saying.

Unbelievable!

On the page was a picture of me and the woman I'd paid to act as my wife. They must have taken the picture while we argued in the lounge earlier that day.

I had planned to close this deal quietly and without any fuss. I had no idea the fucking paparazzi was lurking around somewhere.

I looked at the paper again but this time, the caption caught my attention. Written in bold black letters, it said: DUMPED AT THE ALTAR, JILTED BILLIONAIRE BUSINESSMAN FINDS LOVE AGAIN AFTER FIVE YEARS.

“You really met someone after so long.” Mama Canda continued as she tenderly touched my arm, her eyes beaming with pride.

“No.” I said.

I got up, left the dining room and headed straight to my home office. I needed to take care of this right now.