Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Boxset 4 Books

by Tara Brent

  Shapiro laughed. “My oh my, to think that you’re retiring,” he shook his head.

  “I’ve never batted under .300 in a season,” said Hayden, “until this past season. I have the highest OPS in Dodger history but only by a slim margin and I’m already over 500 home runs.” He let out a long sigh. “I want them to miss me when I’m gone. Leave strong. And frankly,” he said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on Conor’s desk, “while I still love the game, I don’t know if I still love playing the game. Not like I used to.”

  “I understand completely,” said Conor. He reclined in his chair. “Plus I know you’ve got a bit of a temper. How many bats did you break in your tenure here? How many games were you tossed out of for charging the mound? By god, you can be a nuisance, but I still love you to pieces.” Conor laughed. “But I also understand why someone like you would have to walk away if you’re not at the top of your game. Conor sighed. I’ve been doing this a long, long time, Hayden. Sixty years as the owner of this beloved franchise. Did you know that shortly before I took over, the Dodgers almost moved to California? The LA Dodgers… could you imagine such a thing?”

  “I’m glad that didn’t happen,” said Hayden. “I’ve loved this franchise but I might love Brooklyn even more. Don’t think I’ll ever leave.”

  “Funny you should say that,” said Conor, slowly, “as it gets to the crux of why I asked you here.”

  Hayden cocked an eyebrow. “Which is?”

  “You’re not the only man in this room retiring.”

  Hayden stared, shocked. The Dodgers without Conor Shapiro? Unthinkable!

  “I know, I know,” said Conor. “But, like you, I feel like I want them to still miss me. I have no family, no heir. My many underlings are all chomping at the bit to take over, but this club is mine. I want it to go to someone I trust.” He glanced at Hayden. “You have hardly had an underprivileged life, young man.” Hayden grimaced at that, remembering his childhood and the confused look he got from other players who saw the scrappy, half-black cleanup hitter get picked up in a limousine. “But an apparent benefit of watching your father’s billion-dollar corporation thrive is that you have internalized good business sense. We always saw it during your contract negotiations--let’s face it, the fact that you were the highest-paid player in the league for five years straight was more due to how shrewd you are than how good of a player you are.”

  “Statistically I might be the best player in franchise history!” Hayden retorted, annoyed.

  “Not the point. You’re sharp. And alongside being a legend on the field, you run the most successful athletic apparel company in the nation. Hayden Moreau, you are a fine player and a superb businessman. You’ve enjoyed being a multi-millionaire for your whole life. But what I’m wondering is this?” Conor smirked. “Are you ready to become a billionaire?”

  Chapter 2

  Emiko Lindberg stood outside Ebbets Field, nervous as hell. Sure, she believed in her abilities as an analyst, but prior to this, she had only had brief appearances here and there on ESPN.

  She called her best friend, Harper Moreau. “Hey, you!” answered Harper. “How’d the interview go?”

  “Haven’t had it yet,” Emiko replied. “It’s at 2: PM, remember?”

  “Oh! So sorry, I’ve been traveling and my inner clock is all out of whack. So what’s up?”

  “Nothing much, just suffering through some nerves and some imposter syndrome.”

  “Imposter syndrome? Why? You’re qualified! You’re gonna kick ass, both in the interview and once you have the job!”

  “Harper the only reason I’m in the position I’m in is because my best friend since childhood is the kid sister of the owner.”

  “Emiko, listen to me. Networking is a part of any job. It’s always a mix of talent, hard work, and luck. Knowing the right people is lucky, for sure. But I know you’re super talented and you’re the hardest damn worker I’ve ever met. As much as I love you, is there the slightest chance I’d send you in there if I didn’t think you could hack it?”

  “I suppose not,” murmured Emiko through a pained smile.

  “Hey, no mumbling! You need to enunciate if you’re going to be an announcer.”

  “I suppose not!” repeated Emiko, her voice frosty and powerful.

  “Atta girl. Now go kill it. And remember: maybe you had a little help getting here, but you’re a woman in a guy’s world, and not even a white one.

  “I’m half white,” pointed out Emiko. “Half Scandinavian, in fact, which makes me half WHIIIIITE.”

  “My point is, we both know how hard it already is for the likes of us in this biz. So if you have a bit of a leg up, then I consider that asshole-tax for all the bullshit you needed to fight through to get to this point in the first place.”

  Emiko sighed, feeling her heart rate begin to settle. “Okay. Okay, yeah. Thanks, Harper.”

  “You know it girl! Ciao Bella.”

  “Adios.”

  ***

  The interview went as expected. Sure, some of the questions were a bit tricky, but Emiko had always been gifted at twisting words to great effect; her parents told her that if she hadn’t let her passion for baseball “get in the way” that she could have gotten into politics, but it was not a field that interested her in the slightest. She and her best friend, Harper Moreau, were all about baseball and softball. However, that is not how they met. Emiko’s older cousin, Jake Fujino, played travel and eventually varsity baseball and she would attend the games. One of Jake’s teammates was none other than Hayden Moreau. It was on the sidelines of those countless games that she befriended Harper as they played pickle and tag all the while.

  But they would always pause to watch when Jake was pitching or when Hayden was up to bat. Even now looking back, Emiko felt a shiver run down her spine. She had the biggest crush on Hayden, though she’d deny it haughtily whenever Harper would catch her blushing.

  “Well, that sums up the bulk of it,” the interviewer said. “But given that you will potentially hold an extremely vital position in this organization, Mr. Moreau explained that he would like to see you one-on-one.”

  Emiko’s eyes went wide. “Sorry, what? Mr. Moreau wants to see me??”

  “From what I can tell you’re good to go but you are going to be our play-by-play announcer and there’s no way he’s going to let you get on the air without speaking with you first. Right this way, ma’am.”

  Emiko composed herself and followed him down the corridor to an elevator. Five minutes later, he gestured toward the seats outside of the office. “He should be with you shortly. Or perhaps longer. You never know with him.” And with that, she was alone. Waiting, fidgeting, checking her phone, eventually standing up to pace. After about ten minutes, she began shadow-boxing to try and let out some of her nervous energy.”

  “You planning on beating me up?” came a voice from behind her.

  Emiko’s porcelain complexion immediately turned a shade somewhere between violet and pink. Mortified, she stammered, “Oh god, I didn’t see you! I’m so sorry, Mr. Moreau…”

  The owner of both the voice and the team laughed. “Emiko, I’ve known you since you were what, four? Five? Get over here! It’s been ages.” With that, he grasped her in a powerful embrace, and Emiko didn’t rule out the possibility that she might faint. Even after all this time, she thought to herself, even after how disgusted and disillusioned I was with his playboy antics, I’m right back to being that silly kid with an impossible crush. “My god, look at you!” he said, stepping back and eyeing her from head to toe. “You really have grown up.”

  “Thank you,” she said, stupidly. While she and Harper were always as close as sisters, Hayden’s fierce lifestyle made it such that she had only seen him a few times since graduating high school, and whenever she had, he was usually distracted by at least two girls hanging onto his perfectly crafted arms.

  “Come in, sit down,” he said, inviting her inside. “Can I offer you something to drink
? Coffee? Wine? Something stronger?”

  “Nothing, I’m fine, thank you. Actually, perhaps a glass of water?”

  “Strong water on the rocks coming up,” he chuckled, preparing it for her. He sat back down at his desk. “So, a few things,” he said. “Well, one mainly, after I get past the obvious: you’re hired. My sister is about the only person in the world I trust who wasn’t a teammate or coach, and she vouched for you, so that’s good enough for me. But that brings me to what comes next.”

  “How do you mean?” asked Emiko, gently sipping from her glass.

  “The Dodgers will always be remembered for breaking the color barrier with Jackie Robinson, but it seems that the Rockies beat us to the punch with Jenny Cavnar as the first female play-by-play announcer. But there’s no reason for there to be only one. And besides, you’ll be the first biracial female play-by-play announcer. That’s pretty big. But you know that comes with a price. There are many out there who will not be happy that you have this job. They’ll demand a former player or coach, ignoring all of the announcers who never played and ignoring your exquisite credentials. You’ll get the racists who think that we’re trying to force a social agenda. I’m a superstar and even I faced that. But you know what the worst of it will be, right?”

  “I think I do,” replied Emiko. “I can only imagine some middle-aged Dodger fan throwing beer cans at his own TV because he hears a woman’s voice describe ground-outs or doubles in the gap.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “They’re might eat you alive. Are you ready for that?”

  Emiko thought about it, imagining the magnitude of vitriol she’d have to put up with on social media alone. “Screw it. I’m in,” she said.

  “Damn right you are!” lauded Hayden. “The season starts up in a month. You and I are going to make history. In the meantime…”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, all these years, I haven’t really had a chance to spend much time with you. Jerk move on my part. Now that we’re going to be working so close, I think we should fix that. Do you have plans for tomorrow evening?”

  “Actually, I was planning on—”

  “Cancel them,” he ordered abruptly. “I already made a reservation at The River Café.”

  Emiko’s heart nearly leaped out of her chest. The River Café was considered by many to be the number one romantic dinner spot in Brooklyn, and certainly not a cheap night out. “Mr. Moreau, I’m not sure if—”

  “You’re fired if you call me that again. It’s Hayden,” he said. “And I’m not asking. 7:PM. don’t be late. Oh,” his lips curled into a smirk. “Don’t be early, either.” He stood up and extended his hand. “Tomorrow night then, Miss Lindberg.”

  Emiko hesitated for the shortest of moments and then took his hand. “Emiko is fine, Hayden.” But he didn’t let go of her hand after shaking it. Instead, he took it in both of his hands and kissed her tenderly just above the knuckles. Once again, her face was magenta. “Goodbye, Hayden!” And she forced herself to slow down as to not skip from his office.

  Christ! Do I have a date with Hayden Moreau??

  Chapter 3

  “You are most certainly NOT going on a date with Hayden Moreau.”

  “But Harper, I—”

  “Emiko, you cannot screw this up before you even begin! What are you thinking?” They had just finished up brunch at Tom’s Diner and were making their way out to walk through Prospect Park. The sun was cracking through the branches making the grass glow as it danced in the breeze. Emiko took a breath. “You are going to be the second female play-by-play announcer in history. And the first one to not be white!”

  “I’m half white.”

  “You know what I mean! You’re already going to be facing some harsh, unjustified critique. You’re prepared for that though. What you’re not prepared for is, well, look up track 9 of Lana Del Rey’s Ultraviolence.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “You don’t want a GamerGate situation on your hands.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about! Lana, gamer-whatnow?”

  Harper sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You don’t want people to think you only got this job because you’re sleeping with the boss, is what I’m saying.”

  Emiko scoffed. “I earned this job and that was decided before he invited me to dinner.”

  “I’m sure people won’t see it that way. And Emiko, come on. If this was anyone other than Hayden, you would agree with me wholeheartedly. We both know how you’ve felt about him since grade school.”

  Emiko blushed. “What? No…”

  “Stop. Please. It was embarrassingly obvious to anybody in a mile radius. Whenever we were playing tag on the sidelines as kids, you’d check and see if he was batting, and the moment he was on deck, you’d scamper to the edge of the field redder-faced than you are now and cheer him on like your life depended on his getting on base. And you’d get so sad if he ever struck out. You were about the only one who seemed to not get upset with him for throwing his helmet and bat every time because you were too smitten to pass judgment on his outbursts!”

  “You’re my best friend and he’s your brother! I was being supportive!”

  “You barely cheered your cousin on though,” Harper noted pointedly.

  “Well he wasn’t as good a hitter, and when he was pitching, he was up there like the whole game. It’s not the same.”

  “Sure. Whatever. My point is that going on a date with the owner is not a good look for you. But you know what? You’re a big girl. You do what you want. But even beyond this potential career blunder this might be, remember: I love my brother, but he is and always has been a womanizer. It’s not like he’s sexist or anything like that; if he was gay he’d have a revolving door of strapping lads. But he is not a one-woman type of guy so no matter how you cut it, this is a mess. But hey, you do you, right?”

  “…I want a damn ice cream,” pouted Emiko, marching over to an ice cream truck by the park entrance. She ordered a black and white soft serve.

  “Please tell me that cone isn’t meant to represent my brother,” bemoaned Harper.

  “What? Oh… OH! Ugh, Jesus.” They stared at each other and burst out laughing. “You know what?” Continued Emiko, “I’m going to dinner with him. I’m not going to marry him or date him or sleep with him or even make out with him. It’s just dinner. Easy-peasy.”

  “Lemon-Squeezy,” sighed Harper. “I just hope you know what you’re doing. Now come on. Let’s go to the zoo. There’s a red panda there.”

  “WHY AREN’T WE ALREADY THERE?!?”

  ***

  Emiko took a breath. She elected to wear a floor-length, Vera Wang dodger-blue dress; she felt it was appropriate, all things considered. She also wore a pair of white Jimmy Choo heels and a white Marc Jacobs purse. She wore pearl earrings and a silver necklace with a single pearl pendant which rested gently between her breasts. If this is the only date I’m going to have with Hayden Moreau, I’m going to make it count! She thought to herself. But then at the same time, she mused, well, not make it count as much as I wish, but, well, never mind.

  Taking a breath, she made her way to the restaurant. Once inside, she was guided to her seat. Hayden was nowhere to be seen. She sat uncomfortably, sensing eyes on her.

  “Are you ready to order, Miss?” asked her server.

  “Not quite yet. I’m waiting for somebody,” she replied.

  “You’ve been waiting for quite some time. Can I perhaps offer you a glass of wine?”

  “Well,” she said slowly, “I suppose that—”

  “That won’t be necessary,” came a voice from behind her. Emiko nearly swooned as she felt his strong, dark hands on her shoulders. “Two bottles,” said Hayden, “a red and a white?”

  “Any particular vintages, sir?” asked the server.

  “Of course. For the white, the 2002 Corton Charlemagne Coche Dury, and for the red the 1990 Chateau Petrus Pomerol.”

  The server scuttled away, seemin
gly excited.

  “You know,” said Emiko, trying to play it cool despite her racing pulse, “you gave me quite a lot of time to kill as you took your sweet time getting here.”

  “Oh did I?” he replied, smirking as he sat down before her, putting his napkin on his lap.

  “Indeed. And in that extensive time, I perused the menu quite thoroughly. The wine list too.”

  “Your point?”

  “You just spent nearly $15,000 on just two bottles of wine. The red alone was ten grand.” Her eyes sparkled. “If that was an apology for being late, then well-played.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t late,” stated Hayden.

  Emiko blinked, caught slightly off-guard. “You said 7: PM and told me not to be late. So I arrived early. And now it’s…” she pulled open her phone. “After 7:30. So what gives, boss?”