Dr. Billionaire

Chapter 1

“ I t’s a legitimate website, I promise. I’m living proof.”

Jenna tapped on the link Chloe had just texted her from across the table, glancing up at her friend suspiciously as she waited for the ads to finish playing.

“You have to pay for the ad free version, but it’s worth it. It gives you access to the profiles of the guys who are like, really fucking loaded. Not just the wannabes who can afford a couple of dates.” Chloe lifted her margarita and downed the rest of it in one sip.

“I don’t know, Chlo. Aren’t I already aging out of the sugar baby market?”

“First of all, you’re twenty-three, so you’re not exactly ready to collect social security.

And second of all, as I already told you, this isn’t a sugar daddy website.

It’s just a dating site for girls who are willing to put up with men who probably aren’t going to change much for them in return for being well take care of. ”

“Uh huh,” Jenna said. “So what you’re saying is, you’re willing to fuck a guy you’re not actually attracted to so that he’ll buy you shit. You’re right, totally not a sugar daddy website.”

Chloe snorted. “Who said I wasn’t attracted to Simon?

He’s a little older than I normally go for, and he’s got an unhealthy obsession with pickleball, but he’s kinda hot.

He’s really good in bed,” she said with a wink, picking up the Coach bag she’d acquired from the aforementioned pickleball aficionado just the day before.

She opened her wallet and held up a credit card, summoning a young waiter who took it to the register.

“Let me Venmo you my part,” Jenna said, taking the last sip of her mojito and reaching for her purse.

“Babe, we both know you’re broke. Let’s let Simon take care of it.”

Jenna couldn’t argue with that.

Chloe opened a compact mirror and reapplied her lip gloss, smacked her lips together, then signed the check the waiter placed in front of her with a flourish. “But you have to promise me you’ll reach out to at least one guy on there.” She pointed at Jenna. “And I’m going to check.”

Jenna found herself smiling at Chloe’s scolding tone.

She had been a loyal friend since they were in high school, and it had definitely been an act of pity at the time.

Jenna had been awkward, quiet, and had never even thought about talking to a boy before Chloe had come along and forced her out of her shell.

“Sure, Chlo. Whatever you say.”

“I have to go, Simon made us dinner reservations. At a fancy French place,” Chloe said with a waggle of her eyebrows, as if she was certain fancy French food would close the deal on the scheme she had subjected Jenna to for the past hour.

“Have fun,” Jenna said dismissively, her eyes never lifting from the screen as she began scrolling through profiles of men, most of whom looked old enough to be her father and half of whom were posing on a boat—or in some cases a yacht—for whatever reason.

Had she really gotten this desperate? Yes, she only had $47 left in her checking account, but it was only the beginning of the month, and she’d paid her rent already. That was end-of-the-month Jenna’s problem.

She sighed. Whether she wanted to admit it to herself or not, she was currently jobless and running out of options.

It wasn’t as if bartending at the local dive had been her dream job anyway, and she hated pretending to be nice to the sleazebag patrons who would always find an opportunity to grab her ass as she walked by with a tray of drinks.

It wasn’t her fault that one of those particularly vile sleazebags had pushed her too far one night and she had kneed him directly in the crotch. It also wasn’t her fault that her boss had always hated her and had fired her on the spot.

It probably was her fault that this had happened almost two months ago now, and she still hadn’t been able to muster the energy or willpower to get off her couch and search for another job.

Since then, Chloe had been the only one to check in on her and force her out of her apartment for the occasional happy hour.

Jenna paused her mindless scrolling when she came across a profile that seemed different than the rest. It was a man who looked to be just under forty, and he was—there was no other way to say it—fucking hot .

He had a thick head of dark brown, slicked back hair, dark blue, serious-looking eyes, and he was wearing a doctor’s coat over a tight button-up shirt that she could practically see his chiseled muscles through.

She scrolled below the single picture to read his bio, which was very short.

Looking for something real with someone special. I don’t play games. Unless you’re feeling naughty…

Jenna furrowed her brow at the cryptic message as she scrolled back up to look at his picture again. Usually when things seemed too good to be true, they were, she reminded herself.

So was he catfishing her and this was a fake picture? Or was this a real picture but he was hiding some huge dealbreaker that necessitated his search for a sugar baby? Or both? Because if that picture was real and he had no serious red flags, he should be absolutely drowning in pussy…

What the hell do I have to lose? Jenna thought as she tapped the “Message Now” button at the top of his profile. At the very least, it would get Chloe off her back. Who knows, if things went really well, she might even be able to get her rent paid long enough to find another job.

Mark didn’t exactly have high hopes about his date tonight, partly because the girl he had agreed to meet had clearly made a halfhearted attempt at creating a profile only minutes before messaging him.

But there was something about the cute, quick selfie she had uploaded as her profile picture that encouraged him to take a chance.

Jenna Harper.

She was beautiful, he could tell right away, but not in the overdone, plastic-surgery-and-fillers kind of way that he was used to seeing on this website.

She had a typical hot-girl-next-door look, with shoulder-length dirty blond hair and sparkling green eyes.

Somehow her dimples were showing even though she wasn’t smiling fully in the picture.

Instead, her mouth was turned up in a shy grin.

Her initial message had been short and extremely lacking in detail, but the moment he’d taken charge by choosing the restaurant for their date, she had responded with a sassy, “Whatever you say, your highness.” It had made his cock twitch, looking at her cute face and imagining the things he would do to that sassy mouth.

He spotted her at the bar when he walked in and took a moment to watch her.

She was wearing a short black skirt and a red halter top, and she looked entirely uncomfortable and out of place as the bartender handed her a martini.

She didn’t know he was watching, he could tell, because she took a large sip and immediately sputtered as a look of disgust came over her face.

She wasn’t used to dry martinis, he suspected, and had probably ordered one to appear more sophisticated. He found that insanely charming.

“Jenna,” he said as he slid into the seat next to her. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He watched her meet his eyes and then freeze, setting her drink down in a hurry and straightening herself as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. “Mark, hi! I was just… waiting. Wow, you look just like your picture.”

“You were expecting something different?” he replied, the corner of his mouth turning up in amusement.

“Well, no. I mean, I’ve heard stories about online dating going horribly wrong, but this is the first time I’ve done it.” She looked down, as if suddenly feeling shy.

“Why don’t we move to a table,” he said, standing up, offering her his hand, and then guiding her in that direction.

The hostess, having seen Mark enter, led them to a doorway at the back of the room and held a thick black velvet curtain aside for them. Mark pulled out one of the chairs at the small room’s single elegant table for Jenna.

“It’s good to see you again, Dr. Peterson. Will you be having wine?”

“Yes, a glass of cabernet for me, and a glass of Moscato for the lady, please,” he answered, then turned to wink at Jenna. “You’ll like it, it’s sweet.”

He enjoyed seeing her blush, though he wasn’t certain if it was due to the fact that he had called out her youthful distaste for dry alcohol or the fact that he had taken the liberty of ordering for her.

Either way, she seemed intent on ignoring both of those things as she continued the conversation without missing a beat.

“So, they know you here, huh?”

“I’ve been here a few times. They have the best steak in San Francisco.”

“Hmm,” she muttered, looking around. “A private room, too. You must be important.” She said this in a way similar to how one would observe that it was a warm day outside rather than someone who was actually impressed.

“I’ve had the opportunity to make a lot of connections through my job,” Mark said carefully.

Her eyes widened. “Are you in the mafia or something?”

Mark let out a genuine laugh. “Nothing so dramatic, I’m just a doctor. I mean, I was until a few years ago.”

“Oh… what does that mean? What kind of doctor?”

“I went to school for radiology. But then I ended up inventing a new technology to improve MRI machines. It took about a year to get the patents and business stuff worked out with some college buddies, and then it just blew up. Turns out the money in health care tech is huge.”

“Oh,” Jenna said, picking up her glass of wine and taking a sip. “So, you’re… pretty set, then.”

The waitress returned and took their order, and Jenna ordered for herself this time, after a brief pause and a glance at him.

He may have just been reading into things, but he thought he noticed a slight hint of disappointment flicker over her face when he didn’t comment on her choice of the lobster tortelli.

Fuck, this girl is intoxicating.

He boldly reached out to take her hand once the waitress had left.

“So, what about you?” he asked.

“What about me?” Jenna asked, uncomfortable that the conversation had shifted so quickly to her.

“Tell me about yourself. What do you do?”

Oh shit. This is the part where he judges me for being a complete basket case.

Jenna took a breath, quieting her inner voice. She shouldn’t be worrying about what this guy thought of her career prospects—or lack thereof—anyway. She should be worrying about flirting sufficiently for him to offer to pay her bills.

“I’m kind of… between jobs right now. I was a bartender, but it wasn’t really for me. But I’m thinking of going back to school for something. Nursing, maybe.”

Where the fuck had that come from?

She’d never thought of going into medicine before. She’d never even gone to college. Apparently, all it took was a handsome, super-rich doctor sitting in front of her for her career aspirations to shift to being a nurse… his nurse, preferably.

“The medical field is a good choice,” Mark said with a charming smile. “But then again, I am a bit biased.”

Jenna giggled, then immediately hated herself. Why did this man make her so nervous, and why was she suddenly tempted to bite her lip whenever he said something, like she was sitting across from Christian fucking Grey?

Your inner goddess is so embarrassing.

Thankfully, the first course came (she had to ask what gyoza was) and provided a much-needed distraction. More food arrived just as that course finished, and more after that. It was all delicious, and as they ate their conversation moved from jobs—or lack thereof—to their passions.

Or passion, in Jenna’s case…

Mark listened attentively as she described her deep infatuation with the TV show Friends , and when she paused for a moment he spoke up, sounding excited to have found a shared interest.

“I like that show, too.”

“My sweet summer child.”

“What?” he asked, clearly a little confused.

“Everyone likes the show,” Jenna explained. “But I’m obsessed with it. I even started a Discord group for fans like me. We geek out over each episode, talk about inconsistencies. It’s super nerdy.”

“Wow. So what’s your favorite episode?” Mark asked.

“You don’t want me to get into that. We’d be here all night,” she answered, taking a sip of wine. “Tell me more about you.”

Over the next few minutes, Jenna learned that Mark had lived in San Francisco his whole life, he had two younger brothers, and he currently resided in an upscale part of town not far from the restaurant.

He spoke in a calm, measured manner that made Jenna feel at ease, and she found herself wanting time to move slower, so that she could be in his company even longer.

Once the waitress had cleared their plates, Jenna looked up to see him studying her intently.

“I’d like to take you back to my place for dessert,” he said.

Damn, he was smooth.

The invitation wasn’t surprising. She had expected things to move fast, considering the platform she’d found him on.

Despite already feeling surprisingly comfortable around him—not to mention disturbingly aroused by his mere presence—she was a little nervous at the prospect of following a near stranger back to his house.

Yes, she should definitely do the safe, responsible thing. It was settled. She would turn him down, and then maybe after a few more dates she would?—

“I’d like that,” she answered.

Goddammit.

Patience had never been her strong suit.