The Billionaire’s Desires Vol. 1 by Emma M. Green

1. A train named desire
    I watch the landscape roll away through the window. The train has just left Montparnasse station and the suburbs passing before my eyes seem grey and gloomy, just like my mood. I've absolutely no desire to spend the next two days in a vineyard. Tonight, I had plans to spend a quiet evening in and Marion suggested we go see a movie tomorrow, like we do every Friday. But Eric had other ideas. I really like my boss, he took me under his wing and is helping me move up the ladder by giving me all sorts of responsibilities, but this time he's pushing me a little too far. I'm an intern for his oenology website. He's thirty-seven years old, single and childless, he works twenty hours out of every twenty-four, and sometimes has a hard time understanding that Emilie and I don't share his level of interest. There are only three of us on the team: Eric writes the content, Emilie takes care of the administrative tasks and I'm doing an internship to finish my last year of college for a degree in journalism. “My dear Amandine,” Eric often tells me, “If you'd work just a little harder, you'd go far!” I don't dare tell him that I'm not bursting with ambition, like most of my friends in the world of promotions, and that this internship in his little business was the only one I could find that would accept me last minute, as is usually the case. It's not that I don't like working as a journalist, actually I really love to write, but I'm not made for going out into 'the field'. I'm too shy, too impulsive, too...too much myself. Everything and its opposite. At twenty-two years old, I think it's time to start asking myself: “Who am I? Where am I going? Where do I belong? What am I doing? What do I want?” That's my daily reality. And “I don't know” is my favourite answer.
    In my carriage on the high-speed train, all the other passengers are either sleeping or staring off into space. I take out my tablet and try to focus on work. Paris-Angoulême is only a two and a half hour trip, I should get a few things done before I get there. Eric briefed me thoroughly before I left, and even put a little pressure on me: “I can't go, but these two days are really important, Amandine. I trust you, you must absolutely find a way to talk to Diamonds.” Gabriel Diamonds, a legendary man in the wine world. He's a billionaire media mogul who owns almost all of the wine-related publications on the international market. But most importantly, he's one of the world's greatest wine connoisseurs and over the years has bought up all of the best vineyards in France. Every year, he organises a huge showy event in a chateau in Bagnolet to promote his wines. I don't really know why, but apparently people would kill to get an invitation. The highlight of these two days of revelry in the lap of luxury is a classical concert that Diamonds gives for his most important guests. The specialised press is generally invited to the party, but very few journalists can attend the concert and get up close and personal to Diamonds. I study the beautiful invitation on thick cream paper that I have in my purse, caressing the large golden letters standing out in relief. 'Gabriel Diamonds is pleased to invite you'. The pleasure isn't really mutual, since I'm already stressed out over this, but I'm curious, and intrigued. I've heard so much about this mysterious Mr. Diamonds, first from Eric, and then at dinner parties and in the papers. I never dreamed that someone would send me out to meet him.
    Realising that I don't even know how old he is or what he looks like, I Google him, slightly nervous about what I might find. I try to reassure myself, he can't be that impressive. The Wikipedia page dedicated to him gives me the basic information: Gabriel Diamonds is thirty-five years old and was born in the United States to a French mother and an American father. He grew up in a very wealthy family, then came to study in France and still lives between the two