Sway With Me (Inspiring the Greek Billionaire) (20 page)

“Is that a replica of the bear you lost?” he asked, wondering why his uncle would give her a used teddy bear when he could’ve afforded to buy her a brand new stuffed animal. Or a toy store.

“No,” she whispered, tears shining in her eyes. “It’s not a replica. It’s the exact bear.” She hugged it close to her chest. “How did he find it?” she asked George.

He shook his head, appearing as confused as them. “I’m sorry I don’t know. I was only told to give it to you after you signed the deed.”

Ryan picked up his gift, a small box which fit in the palm of his hand, and tore off the wrapping paper.

“What did he leave you?” Portia asked quietly.

He flipped open the jewelry box. “It’s a diamond ring.” Swallowing the lump in his throat, he plucked the ring from the box and held it up for examination. The marquis cut diamond was at least two carats, possibly even three, set in platinum with baguettes surrounding the center stone and spanning the length of the band. The clear diamonds sparkled like new, but the setting seemed antique. It was exactly what he would’ve chosen for Portia if he could’ve afforded it.

“It belonged to Portia’s Aunt Tina,” George explained. “It was her engagement ring.”

“Why did he leave it to me?”

“Only your uncle could tell you. But I think you know what to do with it,” George said with a smile.

Ryan pivoted in his chair toward Portia. Her lips quivered as he slid the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly, like it was made for her.

Portia wiped the tears from her cheek. “It’s beautiful.”

George coughed. “One last thing. The Will contained an additional clause which states in the event you two got engaged, you would inherit five million dollars. To whom shall I make out the check?”

Shocked, Ryan and Portia locked gazes. Uncle Alexander had given them more than money. He’d given them their dreams. They smiled at one another and nodded in silent agreement.

“Make it out to the Stavros Dance and Art Academy,” he told George, never taking his eyes from Portia.

With the money, he could pursue a career as an artist while he and Portia taught children dance and art.

But that wasn’t enough.

He leaned over and kissed her temple. “We should offer free classes to underprivileged children. No child should ever be deprived of learning the arts. What do you say?”

She gave him a sly grin, her cheeks tinted pink with a blush. “I say let’s go home.”

And they did.

Thank you for reading
Sway With Me
!

Curious about the sizzling chemistry brewing between Braden and Portia’s sister, Lola?

Please turn the page for a sample of Shelly Bell’s next release,

Stirring Up Trouble

Available from Soul Mate Publishing

Spring 2014

Chapter 1

“Where are my nuts?”
Braden Angelopoulos asked his head chef, Christopher.

Before the sixty-year-old Greek man had the chance to answer, Lola strutted out of the walk-in freezer licking an ice cream cone. An image he didn’t need right now.

She stopped in front of Braden, peering up through long brown lashes, then slowly lowering her gaze until it rested on what was now likely an obvious bulge between his legs. “I don’t know. You want me to check for you?” she asked before swirling her tongue around the circumference of her double scoop of vanilla.

The pink-haired, multi-pierced woman was the bane of his existence. Too bad he couldn’t fire her. Or sleep with her. He maintained a strict policy of not dating his employees, a rule he’d never considered breaking until this spitfire practically skipped into the restaurant one night after somehow manipulating her Uncle Alexander into strong-arming Braden into hiring her as his headliner five nights a week. Good thing she could sing because he couldn’t dare refuse the man who held the lease on Braden’s restaurant.

“Don’t worry, boss. Your nuts went out on the silver platter a few minutes ago while you were on the phone with the dairy supplier,” Christopher said, plating the dessert for the guests.    

Lola shrugged her shoulder, gave him a wag of her pierced brow, and laughed her way out of the kitchen.

In Braden’s family, an engagement party wasn’t complete without
koufetta
, what Americans referred to as Jordan almonds. Braden had tweaked the recipe and created his own take on them, replacing a portion of the orange blossom water with lavender. If he could impress some of the guests here tonight, he might finally get the chance to cater some of the larger Greek weddings in the area. Two other companies dominated the market around town, but they served what equated to fast food.

His Greek dishes, on the other hand, were authentic recipes handed down to him from his great-great-grandmother, Eva. He hadn’t messed much with them because why tamper with perfection? If he could add a touch or two of the unknown from what was expected, he’d someday become a major contender in the large local Greek food industry.

He pasted a smile on his face and strode through the swinging doors into the dining room of his restaurant, Acropolis. Squinting his eyes to look through the crowd of mingling guests, he spotted the man he needed to speak with standing across the room talking to Lola’s mother, Reina. The unique woman wore her gray hair in a long braid down her back and appeared as though she'd never gotten over the sixties, even naming her two daughters after Shakespearean heroines during one of her many phases.

With one catastrophe after another tonight, Braden had barely gotten two feet away from the kitchen. But, now that all the drama was settled and the wait staff was serving dessert, he had the perfect opportunity to pull his attorney, George, aside and find out what would happen to the restaurant lease.

Laughter spilled from the stage in the back of the room. ". . . and last, Portia and I would like to thank my best man, Braden, and the maid of honor, her sister, Lola. If it weren't for you guys, there may not have been an ‘us’ to celebrate. Braden, Lola, could you come up here and say a few words?" His best friend, Ryan Sullivan, grinned at him from the microphone.

Family and friends clapped. Ah, hell. He'd forgotten he'd agreed to give a speech. At this rate, he'd never get to talk to George, and the man had been dodging him for weeks now.

He spun around looking for his pink-haired co-conspirator, but she'd conveniently disappeared. He made sure his smile remained on his face as he climbed on the stage, shook his best friend's hand, and hugged Portia. They jumped off the stage and sat at a small table set in front, decorated with a white tablecloth and a bouquet of overly fragrant white gardenias.

Standing five feet above everyone else, he took in the view of the room. His staff had pushed the four and six top tables together for this party and covered them with black tablecloths and centerpieces of red roses. He’d reserved the white for the couple getting married to set them apart from the rest of the patrons. To the left of the stage, guests leaned against a black and white marbled bar which spanned half of the three thousand square foot restaurant.

The walls were painted with pictures of Greek women. The artist, a native of Greece, had depicted scenes of women historically important to the home country. Braden thought the women were beautiful and courageous, but Lola voiced her concerns over the fact the women all happened to be naked.

He ignored her as usual.

Divorced for nearly twenty years, his parents stood on opposite ends of the room from each other. It had taken quite a bit of negotiation to get them each to agree to attend this party. In the end, he'd used the technique he'd perfected throughout the years. Competition. They each loved Ryan like a part of the family and neither wanted the other to glean the privilege of attending the parties and wedding. It had worked like a charm these last twenty years.

His poor sister Rosalind, Rose as she preferred to be called, was shuttling back and forth trying to make both of their parents happy. After graduating from NYU Film School, she claimed she had plans to take advantage of the film incentives and the small but lucrative Michigan film industry. Braden worried about his little sister, but he had other things on his mind these days like whether or not he’d lose his lease now that Alexander had died.

The wait staff served each guest a piece of cake and filled the glasses with champagne. His nuts were displayed prominently in crystal bowls on each table, hopefully enticing the guests with the promise of happiness, health, longevity, wealth, and fertility.

He'd owned the restaurant for five years now and had created one of the most respected Greek restaurants in Metro-Detroit. Competition was stiff with dozens of Greek places to choose from, including the ones located in Greektown, the couple of blocks housing a half dozen Greek restaurants in the city next to the casino, but Braden had a dream and determination to make it successful. He'd chosen a prime area in an area which catered to businesses during the day, families at dinner, and bar-hoppers at night.

It was expensive and highly demanded property and he’d lucked out getting a lease through Ryan’s Uncle Alexander Stavros who owned the land and building. But now that he’d died, Braden worried he’d lose the lease which had expired a few days ago. He’d called George, Alexander’s attorney, several times to extend or renew the lease, but he hadn’t called him back.

“When Ryan and I were six, we took a blood oath to never fall in love. Instead, we would join the Navy, explore the world, and after our stint with the military ended, we’d become pirates on our own ship. Sadly, that dream ended when Ryan went on his first cruise and spent the entire time throwing up in his room.” Everyone laughed, including Ryan.

Both the eldest sons in Greek families, Ryan and he'd formed a bond when they'd met in grade school. Their parents expected them each to someday run the billion dollar corporations their families owned. High expectations for a couple of five-year-olds who would rather play Batman and Robin, although they'd spent most of the time on the playground fighting over who'd play who. They hadn't changed much twenty years later. They'd each chosen to forge ahead and follow their own dreams rather than that of their ancestors. Ryan had started out in law school, but through Portia’s influence, he was pursuing his talent in whittling wood, creating chess sets and statues, while teaching disadvantaged youth art on the side. Sucker.

“Before Ryan met Portia, he’d forgotten how to smile. I worried about him for a couple of years, especially when he moved in with me and I couldn’t get him to move out.” He paused for the chuckles. “Portia helped rekindle the missing fire in him and inspired him in ways which his friends and family never could, and on behalf of all of us, I’d like to say ‘thank you’ to her for giving us back our Ryan. And last, I can say with all honesty and sincerity, from the bottom of my heart and other more important parts, that I’m glad it’s you getting married and not me. Congratulations and
na zisete
!”

Assuming he’d been joking, most of the guests laughed and clapped. Only his parents shook their heads while Ryan and Portia gazed up at him with sad eyes and half a smile. He didn’t want their pity. He’d told them over and over, marriage wasn’t for him. Besides, between his parents, they’d been married and divorced nine times.

He smelled her before he spotted her, the subtle hint of lavender in the air. Throwing her guitar strap over her shoulder, Lola strummed the strings and ran up the steps to the stage, her long skirt flowing around her ankles. Three of her band members followed. When had they arrived? Lola hadn’t said a word about playing at the party. In fact, he remembered quite clearly when they’d planned this thing, he’d specifically told her not to perform. He didn’t want the event to become about her and it was hard to ignore a pink-haired, tattooed, pierced, five-foot-two siren, especially with a microphone. Which she grabbed from his hand.

“Nice speech, Braden, and I second that emotion.”

“Lola. What are you doing?” he muttered under his breath loud enough for her to hear, but quiet enough the mic didn’t transmit it to the guests.

She turned off the volume on the microphone and with her chin pointed up in defiance, said, “What I always do. What I want.”

Also available from Shelly Bell and Soul Mate Publishing:

A Year to Remember

When her younger brother marries on her twenty-ninth birthday, food addict Sara Friedman drunkenly vows to three hundred wedding guests to find and marry her soul mate within the year.

After her humiliating toast becomes a YouTube sensation, she permits a national morning show to chronicle her search. With the help of best friend, Missy, she plunges head first into the shallow end of the dating pool.

Her journey leads her to question the true meaning of soul mates, as she decides between fulfilling her vow to marry before her thirtieth birthday and following her heart’s desire. But before she can make the biggest decision of her life, Sara must begin to take her first steps toward recovery from her addiction to food.

Available now at Amazon:
http://tinyurl.com/ky9spp8

Learn more about Shelly or connect with her at:

http://shellybellbooks.com/

Learn more about Soul Mate Publishing at:

www.SoulMatePublishing.com