The Solitary Billionaire Page 2

  The white Jeep rolled down the island’s steep coastline, past the aged fortresses, small villages and open-air markets. Shortly afterwards, Jake parked the Jeep by a pier. This was followed by a five minute powerboat ride to Stanley Marx’s luxury tiny private island.

  As the powerboat approached the tropical Island, Minx was stunned by the spectacular view. Minx Valour was surrounded by beautiful turquoise waters, coral reefs and gorgeous sandy beaches.

  “You can see the main house over there,” shouted Jake, pointing towards a contemporary style mansion crowning a hill above the beach.

  “The house is a two storey pad with 10 bedrooms and several reception rooms. It was made using local stone. There is two private beaches, private pools, tennis courts, breathtaking views, a personal chef, a team of about 8 staff. Stanley fired the gardener last week. Lucky for Stanley, the gardener had signed an iron tight confidentiality agreement, so it is not in his interest to sell a story to a tabloid.”

  “Why did he fire the gardener?”

  “Stanley has a small outdoor yard shrine for his toddler son and he insists fresh flowers are laid there on a weekly basis. On one occasion, the gardener forgot and he was fired,” he regarded Minx shrewdly as her face turned pale. Jake noticed how vulnerable and childlike she appeared.

  She won’t last the week, he thought as he gazed at her, his expression unfathomable. He expertly directed the boat towards the pier. They both stayed silent, lost in their own thoughts as he switched off the engine.

  Chapter Four

  Jake carried her suitcase up the hill towards the main house. Minx was entranced by the peaceful palm-fringed beach views as they passed hammocks hanging between the trees and sun loungers to relax on. Jake admired her extravagant curves from behind, as Minx swayed her luscious hips from side to side gracefully walking up the hill.

  The interior of the house featured an elegant staircase leading to the bedrooms and a spacious common area on the ground floor, with an impressive bar and an open log fire. Minx admired the massive flat screen TV, deep luxurious sofas and antique telescope by the bay window. The communal dining area consisted of a large mahogany table with some great views out onto the tennis courts on one side and the sea on the other.

  “It is perfect,” gushed Minx, her eyebrows raised in wonder and expectation.

  “I guess, it’s time you met the man,” said Jake in a matter of fact tone. He dropped her suitcase by the stairs and motioned Minx with his right-hand to follow him down a long, marble corridor towards Stanley Marx’s study.

  “This is Stanley’s private study. He spends hours alone in this room,” he whispered as he knocked on the door. Minx stood like a statue behind him. There was no answer. Jake slowly turned the handle and slowly opened the door as they entered softly.

  ***

  The raw bricked sitting room was in stark contrast to the rest of the modern house. The room was lit by a single lamp and seemingly without a window of any sort. Stanley Marx did not look in her direction as she entered the room. He sat sipping a stiff drink and smoking a cigar on a grey worn down armchair as he stared into an empty grate. The curtains and sofas looked worn, frayed and moth-eaten. Minx noticed a vast number of books, whole shelves full of classically bound novels. There were volumes of old newspapers and magazine cuttings littered everywhere. None of the newspapers were of a recent date. There seemed a strange stillness in the room and Jake coughed nervously as he entered.

  “Stanley, the girl is here,” he whispered politely.

  “What girl?” His voice was gloomy, slightly breathless and compelling.

  “She won the competition in the Evening Bulletin, her name is Minx Valour.”

  Minx Valour moved towards Stanley Marx to get a closer look at his profile. She was taken aback by his appearance. His looks had changed dramatically from the youthful pictures in past newspapers. He looked twice Minx Valour’s age. His features were stern, craggy-faced and heavy-browed. He had a shaggy mane of silver hair that made him look almost beastly. His eyebrows were massive. His mouth was fixed and rather cruel-looking. His chin was broad and strong and his cheeks firm though covered in rough stubble.

  “Don’t’ you know what day it is?”

  “No, Sir,” Jake said, Minx noticed a bead of sweat on his forehead.

  “I won’t be seeing anyone today. Get out!” He barked in a state of barely contained fury.

  “Yes sir,” Jake whispered backing towards the door as Minx’s blue-diamond eyes widened.

  Minx felt her knees tremble as Stanley Marx turned briefly and looked at her. His eyes appraised her briefly. The anguish in his expression was palpable and his dark eyes burned.

  “Get out,” he roared as his eyes flashed dangerously. He watched as tears welled up in her eyes and Minx fled the room.

  “He was horrible,” Minx choked back a sob, “I could have chosen a week with royalty or a ridiculously good looking Golden globe-winning actor. No, I chose that brute. What was I thinking?”

  Minx followed Jack towards the kitchen. The kitchen was a fully equipped gourmet kitchen decorated with fine polished granite countertops and wood cabinetry.

  Jake put his head in his hands and sat on a stool.

  “Today is the anniversary of his son’s birth. He was born thirteen years ago today. How could I have forgotten that?”

  “Is this his son who died in a car crash?”

  “Yes, Stanley never got over losing his son. He adored that boy,” he said in a hoarse voice.

  Jake blinked at her, truly bewildered as she sat and faced him.

  “Should I go?”

  “No, stay the week. Enjoy the Island, its paradise here most of the time,” he said as she glanced anxiously at him.

  Minx wiped the tears off her face and refused to think of Stanley Marx again. She might as well try to enjoy the rest of the week.

  “Good girl, let me show you to your bedroom, you must be tired,” said Jake smiling up at her.

  ***

  Chapter Five

  Jake took her arm and they chatted as they went up the elegant staircase leading to the guest bedroom. The bedroom was furnished with a relaxing and indulging large leather sofa and TV. There was a private nook in the corner of the bedroom with desk and chair to just email or phone. Minx admired the King bed, private bath steam shower, Jacuzzi tub, and large walk-in closet

  “You must be tired. You should rest a while. There is a bell by the side of the bed, if you need anything. I have to be away for the rest of the day but, come and go as you please. ” Jake said as he gave a courteous bow and left.

  Minx felt no desire to answer the incessant ring of her mobile she had ignored since landing. She switched off her mobile and placed it in a bedside drawer.

  Minx lay sprawled on her bed and thought about Stanley Marx. She ran a frustrated hand through her blonde hair as she thought about his appalling social skills, stern features and heavy brow. He looked like the type of person who liked to order people around in a gruff, often brutal manner. Minx closed her eyes and parted her lips as she inhaled.

  Minx spent the rest of the day walking barefoot on the tropical beach, watching movies and drinking pina coladas. Minx enjoyed the fact she was in a foreign country with a different culture and attitudes.

  For supper, Minx sat on a stool munching on crab in the kitchen while chatting with the housekeeper, Matilda. She was a funny old gal. She seemed awfully old, her face was all twisted like the bark of a tree and she had a wonderful hooting laugh.

  “How long have you worked for Stanley?”

  “Two Years. The housekeeper before me lasted a week before she quit,” she said hooting with laughter.

  “His bark is worse than his bite. If Stanley Marx can’t out argue you, he bullies you and then takes your silence for agreement with his views. He sure likes to sit brooding in that armchair,” Matilda hooted wiping the tears from her eyes as she chopped onions on a wooden board for a stew she was making. “He has a nobl
e heart though and I like him,” she continued in a smooth deep voice.

  They sat a while and Minx told Matilda about the competition and why she picked the notorious billionaire recluse, Stanley Marx.

  Minx looked out the window and saw glorious lights scattered all over the small Island. She brushed the few strands of golden strands from her face and for a moment she felt as if the pall of gloom which weighed her down since her introduction to Stanley Marx was lifted.

  “How funny, I originally felt anger towards Stanley Marx but now I feel pity. He reminds me of a middle aged alcoholic who likes to wallow in his own self-pity,” she said quite simply. She noticed Matilda paused, embarrassed. Matilda frowned awkwardly and raised her finger and pointed past Minx.

  “I can assure you, there is no need to pity me,” Stanley Marx said dryly. Minx felt the colour in her cheeks rise. Minx stood rather shakily and tried to suppress her nerves.

  “I didn’t hear you approach,” she mumbled awkwardly.

  “Looks are deceiving. I am known to be light on my feet when I hear my name mentioned in conversations I am not part of,” his hooded eyes regarded her shrewdly as he stood in the shadows of the room. He sank into a black leather chair opposite Minx and asked Matilda to make him a stiff drink.

  “Why would a young woman who has the opportunity to spend a week with any celebrity, choose a middle-aged alcoholic who likes to wallow in his own self-pity?” He enquired with a deep belting voice.

  “I wanted to get to know the man behind the tabloid image.”

  “How do the tabloids portray me these days?”

  “You are an enigma. This is probably because you have not been seen in public in ten years.”

  “I enjoy a solitary existence, or at least I did.”

  “Honestly, I was surprised you agreed,” Minx squirmed uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze.

  “I was flattered, but now I think I made a mistake as I’m in no mood for the company of strangers,” his tone was stern. “Tell me, Miss Valour, has my appearance changed from the pictures in the tabloids?”

  “The last public picture of you was at the funeral of your wife over ten years ago,” she said as she watched his facial expression darken. His entire body tensed.

  “I bid you goodnight, Miss Valour,” his tone was full of warning as his eyes glittered dangerously. He left the room abruptly. Matilda’s long spell of silence made Minx look at her.

  “Did I say something wrong?”

  “It’s best not to mention his dead wife and son,” Matilda murmured softly as she smiled kindly at Minx.

  There was nothing further to be said. Minx bid her goodnight and left Matilda chopping vegetables in silence.

  Chapter Six

  The following afternoon, Minx Valour was in the middle of a spirited confrontation with the butler. Her voice was raised and she was stabbing at the butler with her finger. She looked stunning in white tailored trousers and a white chiffon blouse.

  “I’d appreciate if you do not walk into my bedroom again without knocking. I happened to be naked,” her eyes blazed with fury. The butler’s balding head recoiled and his droopy eyes widened.

  “The name is Joe and sorry, I had no idea we had such an important guest,” he gushed with a sneering grin as he prepared a light lunch for Stanley Marx in the kitchen.

  “Bullshit,” she snapped. “You are a bloody pervert.”

  Minx did not notice Stanley Marx enter the kitchen.

  “I don’t appreciate you calling my staff perverts,” he gave her a small smile, looking genuinely amused.

  “I don’t appreciate having a fat, balding creep enter my room without knocking,” she shouted, watching Joe, like one would watch a dangerous predator.

  “I must remember that,” Stanley said, his eyes danced with humour.

  “You seriously need therapy,” she shouted as Stanley raised his eyebrows. Minx felt her burning cheeks with her manicured hands. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

  Minx huffily walked towards the exit before turning towards Stanley, “What do you see when you look in the mirror?”

  “A mere mortal,” he replied with a glint in his eye.

  “That’s good. Because when we reach the other side, we will all be equals at God’s feet and you will have a lot of explaining to do.” She yelled, “It won’t be so easy to fire everyone who looks at you the wrong way. You will be in someone else’s kingdom unless you are sent downstairs. Though I’d have no problem if you fired that bloody pervert,” she hissed at Stanley while pointing at Joe.

  Minx turned, she felt his eyes follow her as she stormed out of the room towards the safety of her bedroom.

  ***

  She felt a confused mix of emotions as she lay on her bed, painting her toenails bright red. Minx felt worn out from the constant drama and felt like moving to a luxury Hotel in St. Lucia to enjoy the rest of her holiday in a peaceful environment. She was surprised how much Stanley Marx dominated her thoughts. She felt he appeared selfish and emotionally dangerous. He was incredibly skilled at making her feel inadequate.

  Minx decided to practice singing scales and humming loudly. Her mother always told her to belt out a tune whenever she was upset. This always made Minx feel better.

  ***

  Stanley Marx stared pensively out the window in the kitchen eating his lunch. He heard a women singing in the background. He was taken aback. The last time he heard music in the house was when his wife was alive.

  “Who’s that singing?”

  “I think it’s the girl,” huffed Joe as he paused to listen.

  Stanley Marx continued eating and watching Joe.

  Finally he put down his knife and fork and smiled.

  “She’s bloody awful, if I had a voice like that, I would not be singing in public,” his mouth twisted with wry amusement.

  ***

  Minx Valour was wakened by the continuous knocking on her bedroom door. She stood rather shakily and tried to suppress her nerves.

  She pushed open the door and saw Stanley Marx looming over her. He rubbed his chin in quiet deliberation and inhaled the light flowery scent she liked to wear.

  “Mrs Valour, I’d like to apologise for upsetting you earlier,” his hooded eyes appraised her as she glanced nervously up at him. Her mouth felt dry.

  “Forget it.”

  “I’d like you have dinner with me tonight for eight. I’ll come out of my gloomy study for such a special occasion and I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour. I might even try to stay sober,”

  “All right, I’d like that. Thank you,” she said politely, giving him her best smile as she awkwardly shut the door.

  ***

  Chapter Seven

  Minx Valour slipped on a green velvet wrap dress and a pair of chic black pointy stilettos. She wore her blonde glossy locks swept to one side with a neutral make-up. Minx Valour was known for her flawless, glowing, and dewy looking skin. The curvy beauty sashayed by a handful of servants as she entered the communal dining area. Stanley Marx sat at the large mahogany table waiting for her. She thought he looked surprisingly dignified in his blue suit.

  They shared small talk for the few minutes it took Matilda to return with their salmon starter and chilled white wine. They shifted seats as an almost palpable discomfort settled over the room.

  Minx picked up her glass of white wine and glanced at Stanley Marx, across the table from her. “Why do you live like a recluse, Mr Marx?”

  “I don’t consider myself a recluse. I am surrounded by servants and Jake. I have my two dogs. They are playful and incredibly loyal,” he leant down to pat the two huge and majestic creatures sitting by his feet.

  “What about friends or dating?”

  “I stopped trusting people a long time ago. Most of them are nice to your face but behind your back they have a giant carving knife and are stabbing you in the back,” he said bitterly as Matilda handed him a glass full of ice and whiskey.

  “It sounds
like you have a bad experience,” she whispered gently as her ice-blue eyes widened.

  “Years ago, I surrounded myself with fake people. They flattered my ego and agreed with everything I said, simply because they considered me a man of tremendous wealth and importance. The only people you can trust are family. I no longer have that. My parents died when I was in my twenties, and my son and wife died in a car crash. I’m sure you read all the speculating in the tabloids. I could have had those trashy papers shut down for printing such ridiculous theories. Nobody knows what happened that night, apart from me and my wife and she’s dead.”

  “I’m sorry,” Minx said softly. The silence stretched between them.

  “We had a fight that night. There was a storm coming and we argued. She said she wanted a divorce. I told her that she could go to hell. I would never let her take my boy. I would fight her in every court in the land. Turns out, she did take him away from me, permanently.”

  “I’m sorry,” Minx leant over and put her hand gently on his as their eyes locked. He was taken aback, but didn’t pull his hand away. He liked the silky, sensual tone in her voice. The silence continued between them as Matilda cleared the table. Minx gave a smile of appreciation as Matilda placed a main course of Sole with ginger oil and coconut bread in front of her.

  Minx desperately hunted around for a change of subject. “You have a beautiful island, Mr Marx.” Her eyes were pitiably wide and bright.

  Stanley Marx cocked his head to one side and gave her a boyish grin.

  “Thank you, Miss Valour,” he said as she detected a sarcastic tone to his voice, “It offers complete privacy and I have no desire to move, I’m too old and battered by life.”

  “You are not that old,” her tone was soft. He stared at her impassively.

  “I read some articles you wrote for a social column about growing up in Dublin. I was impressed with your writing ability. It was hugely witty,” he said, “You made some sharply mocking observations about life.”