The Billionaire and the Baker

Aaron’s P.O.V.

“Oliver, get the car. We need to leave in five minutes,” I tell my assistant, who is also my driver. Some may say I’m a cheap bastard; in fact, many people say that all the time. Those would be the people who don’t know me but think they do.

I check my appearance in my office bathroom. I’m wearing a dark gray suit and a white button-up shirt with a gray and white tie. I’m the CEO of Digitech Nexus. We’re the most prominent IT firm in the world and have physical locations in nine different countries, but our headquarters are located in New York.

I run my fingers through my black hair, which is getting a little on the long side. I like to keep it neat, but leave it long enough to give me the appearance of being approachable. People say I intimidate them, and it’s probably true. I’m a straight-to-the-point business-minded man. I don’t like playing games. I didn’t become one of the wealthiest men in the world at the age of twenty-eight by being nice to everyone. I had to step on a lot of toes to get where I am. Do I have any regrets? No. That may sound callous, but it’s who I am, or at least who people think I am.

The truth, which no one knows except Oliver, is that I’m lonely. I have been with many women, but they all only want one thing: money. Every time I think I have found a woman who sees me and not dollar signs, I’m disappointed. I don’t have friends, I have acquaintances. I was abandoned at a hospital when I was two years old, and I grew up in foster care, so I don’t have any family.

“The car is ready, sir,” Oliver says, coming into my office. He’s the only person I trust because he has been with me since the very beginning. I have told him he doesn’t need to call me sir, but he insists.

“Okay, let’s do this,” I say. We walk out of my office, and I stop at my secretary’s desk.

“Ruby, you won’t be able to contact me for at least the next two weeks, maybe longer. Call Oliver for anything urgent, and he’ll get a message to me,” I tell her. She’s somewhere between fifty and sixty years old. She has worked for me for the past five years and knows when to ask questions and when not to.

“Yes, sir. Have fun,” she replies. Everyone thinks I’m going on vacation, but that’s not true. I have something else planned.

Oliver and I walk out without speaking to anyone else. Between Ruby and Oliver, I know everything will be taken care of in my absence. We go outside, and I get into the back of the Lincoln Town Car. Oliver gets in the front seat and looks at me in the mirror.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks as we head to my penthouse.

“Yes. I have to find myself again. I feel like I’ve lost where I came from, and everything is all about money. You know my history.” Oliver nods and sighs.

“Okay, but if anything happens or you change your mind, call me immediately.” I smile as I look out the back window. Oliver is the only person in the world who knows everything about me because he was in foster care with me. We stayed in touch, and when I had my idea, he was the one I called to help me. He doesn’t know much about IT, but he helped get the word out when I was just starting. People think he’s my assistant and driver, but in reality, he is my silent partner. He owns thirty-three percent of the shares in Digitech Nexus.

When we reach my penthouse, Oliver drops me off and then drives to the parking garage. I go inside and upstairs, ignoring everyone staring at me. It goes with the territory of being wealthy. None of them is worth my time because all they see is a walking dollar sign, and all I want is for someone to see me.

I remove my clothes and go to my closet to get the clothes Oliver picked up for me from Goodwill. I slide on the worn jeans and long-sleeved blue T-shirt that has seen better days. The gym shoes feel like the soles are almost worn through. I look at myself in the mirror and mess my hair up a little. When I walk out of the bedroom, Oliver is waiting for me.

“So how do I look?” I ask.

“Well, you don’t look like you belong in this building or even this part of the city. Aren’t you scared someone’s going to recognize you?” he asks. I put on a beat-up old baseball cap and shake my head.

“No. I won’t make eye contact with anyone, so I’ll be invisible to them.” I grab the old backpack that I have packed with a few changes of clothes similar to what I’m wearing. I even bought a burner phone because someone living on the street wouldn’t have the newest Samsung Fold phone like I have.

“I barely recognize you. How do you want to get out of the building? People will notice if you walk out like that,” Oliver says. I grab an overcoat and put it on. It’s too hot outside for it, but it will hide what’s underneath. I remove the hat and put it in the pocket of the coat. I put my driver’s license into an old wallet with some cash. I don’t want any credit cards.

“Is that better?” I ask.

“Yes. I hope you find what you’re looking for out there,” Oliver says as we get on the elevator.

“Me too.” He drives me to an area that is known for its homeless population and lets me out. I remove the coat and put the hat back on my head. As I walk down the sidewalk, I feel free. No one is looking at me. I am just another person on the street, not a billionaire.