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Authors: Julia Kent
Billionaire Romance Boxed Set (9 Book Bundle) (66 page)
Chapter Twenty-Three
Deborah
The
sun beat down barely giving any escape even under the trees. Looking at the old
brick campus buildings I had my classes in, I couldn’t believe I was back at
graduation just a year later. Wearing the black cap and gown again, this time
with a different sash over my shoulders, I sat on a white wooden folding chair
just off the side of the stage.
Will
sat beside me in a tan suit with a green print tie that matched the flecks in
his hazel eyes. As he held my hand, I couldn’t help but admire my engagement
ring. It didn’t matter how many months I had worn it, the way the light caught
the circle of diamonds around the large deep blue sapphire always took my breath
away.
Joshua
Cane took the stage wearing a black cap and gown with the same sash I had over
my shoulders. He winked in my direction as he approached the podium and smiled
at the audience.
“At
this time last year, I had the opportunity to meet today’s honoree, Deborah
Hansen. I recognized her talent and practically begged her to work for me. She
turned me down. Luckily for everyone else, she knew she was destined for better
things.
“Deborah
has a way of endearing herself to people. Its in her smile, her personality,
and her drive. She chased her dream by taking a job at Hargrove’s and won the
opportunity to show an original collection at Fashion Week in Paris. A feat
many designers dream of but never reach.
“So
you can imagine my surprise when Deborah called me, home early from Paris after
an emergency, and asked if I would fly back to Paris with her. Deborah is the
hardest, most creative person I have ever had the pleasure of working with. And
its because of our mutual work ethic that a partnership was born.
“But
I’m not here to talk about our success though. I’m here to talk about
Deborah’s.
“In
the past year, Deborah has had her first collection at Fashion Week, opened
Hansen + Cane with her very handsome design partner, started her own line
exclusively sold at Hargrove’s fine department stores, and has been so busy
she’s been forced to turn down design requests from some of the hottest movie
and music stars.
“As
if that wasn’t enough, she was also instrumental in the creation of the Working
Designer Grant for students like herself who have no choice but to juggle both
work and school.
“To
honor all of her hard work, I’m here to present Deborah with an honorary degree
for her incredible devotion to the art of fashion design. Everyone please put
your hands together for one of my dearest friends and business partners, Miss
Deborah Hansen.” Joshua stepped back from the podium clapping.
Humbled
and embarrassed I slowly rose from my seat while everyone clapped. I climbed
the stage, not very different from last year when I got my diploma, but feeling
so much more confident and happy.
My
heart raced in my chest knowing I needed to say a few words. Hugging Joshua I
took a deep breath before turning around and facing the large crowd of
students, their families and friends, and the school administrators. I looked
down at Will and smiled back at him, feeling better as I nervously spun my
engagement ring around my finger.
“Thank
you for this incredible honor. I can’t help but think the school ran out of
people to give this to,” I said as the crowd laughed politely. After
taking another deep breath I continued. “I want to dedicate this honorary
degree to my grandmother. If it wasn’t for her endless support and patience, I
would’ve never been able to achieve the things I’ve done.”
In
the distance I heard a rumble of thunder and smiled knowing my grandma was
watching over me as she had since her death. I knew she’d be proud of all my
successes if she had been alive to see them. I also knew she would love Will as
much as I did.
Missing
her, my eyes filled with tears as they always did when I thought about her too
much. I blinked trying to hold the tears back as my vision blurred. After
swallowing hard, I forced a smile.
“I’m
really no good at this and no one wants to hear a long speech, so really, from
the bottom of my heart, thank you.”
The
crowd applauded again as I walked off the stage and back to my seat next to
Will who hugged me and held out a handkerchief. I couldn’t help but laugh when
I saw it, making the tears finally flow down my cheeks.
Will
gently wiped my tears with the handkerchief then kissed my forehead. Moving
closer to me, he put his arm around my shoulders and I leaned into him.
“I’m
so proud of you, Deborah. There’s just one small thing.”
“Is
something wrong?”
“Yes,
there is. You see I have this suit that needs to be tailored and I’m still
waiting for you to show me that new method of measuring my inseam.”
He
grinned that same lopsided knowing grin from the first day we met. His eyes
twinkled mischievously and I laughed surprised he remembered that. I had to be
the luckiest woman alive. Not only did I have my dream job, but I had my very
own Mr. Sexy who wanted to be with me forever.
The End
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I MARRIED A BILLIONAIREBy Melanie Marchande
Chapter One
When your billionaire boss’s
attorney contacts you out of the blue, your first instinct is to assume
something is horribly wrong and that you’re about to pay the price. I still
remember the way my throat tightened, the sweat on my palms - what was it
about? I was sure I’d done nothing wrong, but if Mr. Thorne decided I had, there
wasn’t much recourse.
My boss was notoriously difficult
to work for. Thankfully, I rarely saw him. At most he was a vaguely menacing
presence in the corner of my eye; a whiff of expensive cologne as he passed by
my desk. To him I was surely no more than a line on the payroll sheets that he
blindly signed every quarter; I wasn’t even confident that he knew my name.
And I liked it that way. I’d had
overinvolved, micromanaging bosses before, and I much preferred a cold distant
figure that I didn’t even have to speak to. I worked hard - I didn’t need
someone hanging over my shoulder to make sure I was doing everything right.
As one of the graphic designers,
I reported directly to Lisa, the head of Creative. She was pleasant enough, but
I’d never gotten any feedback from her other than a nod of acknowledgement when
I showed her my mockups and designs. Quite a few of them made it onto marketing
and training materials, so I assumed Mr. Thorne liked my work.
So when a man approached me in
the hallway and introduced himself as Mr. Thorne’s attorney, the only thought
that popped into my head was that I had somehow unwittingly committed copyright
or trademark infringement, costing the company millions of dollars, and I would
be fired on the spot. Or perhaps I’d accidentally incorporated something
obscene into one of my designs…
“Mr. Thorne would like to see you
about a special project.”
I snapped out of my panic mode.
“A…project?”
I must have sounded skeptical,
because he went on: “It’s very important. A logo redesign for the company. He
wants to keep it quiet for the meantime, but he asked to speak to you
specifically.”
I was torn between flattery, and
a curious sense of foreboding. I was proud of myself, of course, for attracting
his attention. Then again, the attention of a man like that might be something
I’d regret having in the very near future.
“Right now?” was all I could
muster, for all the thoughts swirling in my brain.
“Yes,” said the attorney. “Right
now.”
I followed him down the long
hallway that led to Mr. Thorne’s office. It was separated from the rest of us
by enough distance to make him seem untouchable. I wondered if he’d learned
about that in one of his many management conferences.
I hesitated at the door. I’d
never been inside his office before. Aside from Lisa, I didn’t know anyone here
who had. I felt like the attorney would soon ask me to take off my shoes, or
perform some act of contrition.
Instead, he simply pushed the
door open and walked in, gesturing for me to follow.
The office was not at all what I
expected. I would have imagined it as something Spartan and cold, with a lot of
empty space, no human touch whatsoever. Instead, the first thing that caught my
eye when I walked in was the variety of tropical plants thriving around Mr.
Thorne. Some were clustered by the window, some featured in a small alcove
against the back wall, and a few small ones even lived on his massive mahogany
desk. The multitude of grow lights gave the office a soft, welcoming glow. The
ceiling, too, was just the right height - not so tall that the space was
forbidding, but not so low that it felt stuffy and cramped.
Mr. Thorne himself stood in the
center of the room, by a grouping of lounge chairs and a small coffee table. He
was smiling guardedly. Or maybe that was just his normal smile. I didn’t think
I’d ever looked at him fully in the face before, and I’d certainly never seen
him smile. It made him look younger. Not that he’d looked old before, but the
difference was marked. I actually had no idea about his age, but I’d always
guessed him to be in his early thirties.
“Please, Ms. Wainwright,” he
said, gesturing towards one of the chairs. “Take a seat. Can I offer you
something to drink? Coffee? Water? Juice?”
I shook my head.
“Before we begin, I want to
assure you that this meeting is absolutely nothing to be concerned about. I
have no issues with your job performance here. I have a business proposal for
you, which I believe to be mutually beneficial. My attorney is here to oversee
our negotiations and ensure that each of us is getting a fair deal. Do you
follow so far?”
I nodded, swallowing hard. I
suspected he was about to ask me to do something that was against every
business ethics seminar I’d ever been forced to sit through.
He took a seat in one of
the chairs opposite me, unbuttoning his suit jacket. “I want you to understand
that if you refuse, your employment here would not be jeopardized in any way.”
The attorney was twirling his pen
between two fingers, staring at the floor. I got the feeling he wasn’t very
happy with what was going on, but he wasn’t about to say anything as long as he
was getting his paycheck.
“Ms. Wainright, as I’m sure
you know, I’ve been living and working in this country for a long time. This
place is my home. This is where I have built everything that’s important to me.
But, as it happens, I was born just across the border, in Toronto.
Unfortunately, I put my trust in the wrong person to handle the paperwork that
should have allowed me to legally live and work here. He stole a lot of money
from me, but worse than that, he failed to properly file my papers. I was not
aware of this until I received notice from the INS that I was no longer welcome
here.” He paused, fiddling with his cufflinks. “You’re an intelligent
woman, I’m sure you can see where this is going.”
Well. This certainly had taken an
interesting turn.
I forced myself to think about
this logically, if such a thing were possible. He was a good-looking guy, of
course - no question about that - in fact, I couldn’t help but think I’d look slightly
dingy by comparison, on his arm. But obviously he didn’t think so. Or he didn’t
care.
I cleared my throat. “Mr.
Thorne…sir…can I ask why you picked me?”
He looked at me for a moment.
“Your supervisor,” he said, finally. “Mrs. Anderson. Lisa. She’s
one of the few people who know about my…problem. When she came to me and told
me that you and she had several conversations where you expressed distaste for
the institution of marriage, I thought you might be interested.”
“That’s - quite a leap of logic,”
I said, frowning at him. If I’d known Lisa was practically in Mr. Thorne’s
pocket, I never would have had so many deeply personal conversations with her.
She’d just gone on maternity leave, so I wouldn’t even have an opportunity to
corner her and ask her what the hell she was thinking. Not that I’d dare. I
tried to think of other things I’d said to her, my ears starting to burn as I
searched my mind.
Mr. Thorne bit his lip.
“I’ve offended you,” he said, standing up. “I apologize.”
“Wait,” I said.
“Are you serious about this?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Of course.”
“You’re not playing some
kind of elaborate prank on me?”
His smile returned. “What
sort of person do you think I am?”
The attorney made a small noise,
shifting in his chair.
“I assume I’ll be compensated
in some way?” I said, trying to sound cool and composed. I didn’t know the
proper way to react in this situation - hell, I didn’t know if there was a
proper way - but I was trying to pretend like he hadn’t completely floored me
with this offer. A marriage of convenience? Who even did that in real life?
“Of course,” said Mr.
Thorne, sitting back down and reaching for the sheaf of papers sitting on the
table. “It’s quite simple, when you cut through all the legalese. You will
need to live with me for the next year, at least, for appearance’s sake. During
that time, I will support you and provide for all of your needs and wants.
After that time passes, you will be compensated with two million dollars U.S.,
payable in cash or bearer bonds.”
My heart stopped for a moment.
Mr. Thorne didn’t skip a beat.
“You will need to end your employment here, obviously - again, for
appearance’s sake. But I will ensure that you receive an even better job
placement at another firm, after the terms of the agreement are fulfilled. In
the event of any legal trouble, you will still be compensated, so long as you
make a reasonable effort to keep the façade intact.”
“What constitutes a
reasonable effort?” I wanted to know.
He rustled some pages.
“That’s spelled out here, as well. You’re agreeing to spend a minimum of
ten hours going over the details of our fictional relationship in preparation
for the INS interview. When in public, you will behave at all times as if we
are a couple. This may include some physical interaction, which…” he
drifted off, staring at the carpet. Was he embarrassed? Surely not. “…I
hope you will find…agreeable…”
The attorney sighed loudly.
“I feel compelled to point out that a contract for an illegal agreement
will not hold up in court.”
I hadn’t even considered that,
but of course he was right.
Mr. Thorne nodded. “The
contract is a formality. Just to clarify the obligations we’d both have.”
“It sounds….” I
wasn’t sure how it sounded. “Can I have some time to think about it?”
“Excellent,” said Mr.
Thorne, briskly, his professional demeanor returning in a moment’s time. I
noticed there was still some extra color in his face, though. “You can
peruse the contract as thoroughly as you’d like, but I’m afraid I can’t allow
it to leave this room. For obvious reasons.”
“Of course,” I said. I
flipped through the pages, my eyes scanning the words as if I could possibly
make sense of them. My head was swimming, and I felt like I was in some kind of
dream. Some part of me was convinced that I would wake up at any moment.
“You can take a few days, if
you like.” said Mr. Thorne. ” Come to my office anytime if you want
to look over it. I’ll keep it in my desk.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“I think I’ll come back tomorrow.”
He nodded, taking the papers from
me and straightening them. “I’ll see you then.”
I spent the rest of my work day
in a haze. Two million dollars? If I played my cards right, with the lifestyle
I was accustomed to, I could live off of that money forever. Probably. Couldn’t
I? I actually had no idea; I’d never considered the possibility of having a few
million dollars dropped in my lap. I had fantasies, of course. Didn’t everyone?
But I had never given them any serious thought.
I supposed I could hire someone
to manage the money. Mr. Thorne probably knew some reputable financial planners
- people who would make sure that I never had to work another day in my life. I
could pursue my art on my own terms, instead of toiling away as a corporate
drone for the rest of my working years.
Whoa, Maddy. Step back a minute.
My brain was already churning as
if I had the money in my bank account. But if I decided to do this - and that
was a huge if - it would still be a long time before I saw a dime. And in the
meantime, living with Mr. Thorne, I’d probably get used to a higher standard of
living. Even for someone like me, who’d never been pampered in my life, it
would be difficult to go back to normal. I would be best if I could consult
with some neutral third party about all of this - a professional. Someone who
could give me some really solid advice. But I was pretty sure I’d have to pay
handsomely for that, and I didn’t exactly have Daniel Thorne money.
Yet.
*
Sitting up in bed that night,
with no hope of sleeping, I finally got a pen and paper and began to write down
a list of questions and concerns. Part of me couldn’t believe that I was taking
his offer seriously, but how could I not?
I dragged myself out of bed the
next morning after a few hours of fitful sleep. When I got to work, I made a
beeline for Mr. Thorne’s office.
I stopped at his assistant’s
desk. She looked at me with barely restrained contempt.
“I need to see Mr.
Thorne,” I said. “About the special project. He told me to stop by
anytime.”
Her lips thinned as she pressed
the button on the intercom.
“Mr. Thorne. Ms. Wainright
is here to see you.”
“Thank you, please send her
in.”
I walked in slowly, shutting the
padded door behind me. I was sure he’d look up when I came to a stop in front
of his desk, but his head stayed down as she shuffled through a pile of paperwork.
I cleared my throat.
“Ms. Wainright,” he
said, blinking. “Good morning. You’re very…early.”
I frowned a little. “I get
here at this time every day.”
“Of course,” he said,
beginning to collect himself into the smooth professional that I somewhat recognized.
“Please. Take a seat.”
I sat down in the chair across
from his desk, clutching my notepad to my chest. “I just have a few
questions about the proposed arrangement,” I said. “I can come back
later if this is a bad time.”
“No, no, not at all,”
he said. “Please. Go on.”
I stared at my paper. The
questions all sounded stupid now that I was in front of him, under his piercing
green stare. But somewhere in the rational portion of my mind, I knew that they
were still important. I swallowed hard and then began to speak.
“There’s only one copy of
the contract, right? Who will keep it?”
Mr. Thorne answered quickly.
“Excellent question. My attorney, Mr. Wegman, is responsible for keeping
the document private and secure. I realize this may sound like a conflict of
interest, since I’m paying him, but I assure you that he will be representing
us both equally in this arrangement. I made certain to add the terms of his
payment into the contract as well, so he is highly motivated to keep it
safe.”