Billionaire's Secret Crush (Tempting Billionaires Book 4)

by Claire Angel

  So I stayed silent and enjoyed her friendship. Occasionally we’d flirt and kid around, but mostly I hid behind the safety of a platonic veil. I buried my sad-sack existence well. My work kept me distracted enough.

  It was time to take out my frustration on a squash ball and a certain gangly nut job who needed his ass whipped. My PA knocked, then walked into my office.

  “Is there anything else you need before I head out for the night, Aidan?”

  “No thanks, Brenda. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “No, you won’t. You’re off to Spain, remember?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said. I won’t see you tomorrow.” I smiled.

  “The jet will be ready for you at 12 am. Derek is ready with the details of your meeting in Barcelona. He’ll meet you at the airport. I’m here if you need anything. Have a good trip. Good night.”

  “Thanks, Brenda. What would I do without you?”

  “Get into a lot more trouble than you already do.” She grinned.

  She left my office and went home. I insisted that my office staff called me by my name. I encouraged relationships, not robots. Brenda had been my PA for five years, which wasn’t an easy job, not with my schedule, but she organized my professional life with the precision of a prison warden.

  The office was empty by the time I left. I headed for the elevator.

  “Good evening, Mr. Davis.”

  “Hi, Frank.”

  Frank was my bodyguard, but I preferred to think of him as my elevator operator, or better yet, my butler. Lots of money brought the crazies out of the woodwork, and being safe rather than sorry, was a smart choice. I heard Frank talk into an earpiece to tell the driver that we were on our way. The truth was that I loved driving myself wherever I wanted to go, but at the end of a crazy day, I liked the comfort just fine.

  “Good evening, Mr. Davis.”

  “Hello, Carl.”

  “Where can I take you this evening?”

  “The health club, thanks, Carl.”

  “My pleasure, Mr. Davis.”

  Carl was new in my employ, and rather stiff. He insisted on calling me Mr. Davis, or when he felt a little reckless, Sir. The city was a kaleidoscope of colored lights at night. They were right, the city never sleeps. Joey and I belonged to the same club since we were wet behind the ears. It was only natural that our competitive streak drove us on to whip each other at whatever sport we chose to play. Squash was our poison of choice for those days when we needed a decent sweat. Golf was our ‘male bonding’ time, and tennis the dodgeball for the rich.

  Carl drove up to the front of the club.

  “Shall I wait for you, Sir?” he asked as the car came to a complete stop.

  “That won’t be necessary, Carl. Thanks.”

  “Have a good evening, Sir.”

  Frank, my shadow, and I walked into the club together. Cassandra, the Club Secretary, stood at a table in the foyer, talking to a table of club members enjoying a drink. She had eyes in the back of her head. I couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t see me entering or leaving. I was sure she had private detective blood coursing through her veins. She looked up at me and smiled.

  She excused herself from her conversation and walked over to greet me.

  “Good evening, Aidan. You look well.”

  “Hi, Cassandra. Are the children behaving?” I asked as I motioned to the rowdy table of members dressed in their golf kit.

  “I’m keeping a beady eye on them just in case they get any crazy ideas.” She smiled.

  “Joey is meeting me here for a game of squash. Better get the shot glasses polished in the meantime.”

  “Thanks for the heads up, kind sir. I’ll get right on it.” She grinned.

  “Can I put together a snack for you after your game?”

  “That’s a very good idea. A little something to soak up the alcohol.”

  “Enjoy your game.”

  Casandra smiled and walked away. She was an elegant woman. I suspected she had a soft spot for Joey, but she was too classy to throw herself at him. It would only be a matter of time before Joe sowed his last wild oat, and I hoped for his sake, he’d settle down with a woman like Casandra. She was really easy on the eye, and even though he said nothing, I could tell he was attracted to her.

  Relationships and attraction were such tricky dances. Someone always had their toes crushed. I wasn’t sure how long I would love Jayde from afar, but it was the only logical way forward. In the meantime, I’d work a little harder, and keep my lovesick ass occupied.

  “Thanks, Frank. Why don’t you relax at the bar? Joey and I will be here for a while.”

  “Yes.”

  The club was a veritable fortress. No one got in without militarian scrutiny. I felt safe there, and Frank enjoyed the company of a certain young barmaid, which made for a win-win scenario for both of us.

  Joey arrived with the force of a whirlwind. He was dressed in an expensive designer suit, Italian leather shoes, and his curly hair stood in more than just a few directions.

  “Well, are you feeling lucky, punk?” he said in his best Dirty Harry imitation.

  “Bring it on, Josephine.”

  Joey looked across to Casandra, gave her a big smile, and said, “Hey, pretty lady, better make sure CCTV in the squash court is working. Aidan here is about to get his clock cleaned, and I don’t want to miss the replays.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She blushed.

  “Okay, smartass. Let’s get this over with.” I laughed and headed for the locker rooms.

  Chapter 3

  JAYDE

  It was 6 am when the phone rang. I peered at the caller ID through sleepy eyes.

  “Aidan, don’t you ever sleep in?”

  “Only after vigorous sex,” he said.

  “I guess you ain’t getting any lately,” I said with mild amusement.

  “You’re awfully snippy for someone who owes a certain someone else a dinner,” he commented.

  “You didn’t! Does this mean what I think it does?”

  “You owe me big time, young lady. Your fabric will be ready for distribution later this morning.”

  “You are a god! I owe you large.”

  “And I intend to collect. But first, I’m off to Spain for a few days. When I get back I expect a fair amount of ass-kissing and a home-cooked meal.” He chuckled.

  “You dirty old man. My mother warned me against guys like you.”

  “And which guys would that be?”

  “Smartass billionaires who get shit done,” I said.

  “She was right. Always good to listen to Momma.”

  “Have a safe trip, Aidan. Oh, and I’d rather take you out to dinner. My cooking could kill you, and I don’t have the time or patience for an investigation this time of year.”

  “Point taken. See you in a few days.”

  And just like that, without breaking a sweat, Aidan Davis saved my ass. It was becoming a habit.

  I was too charged to go back to sleep, so I stumbled to the kitchen and collected my greens from the fridge. My smoothie bullet roared to life as I threw in a wicked selection of raw veg. I added fresh ginger for an extra hit of freshness and scrolled through social media platforms for news. I would usually get the call before an engagement was announced in the media to ensure that I was available to design the wedding dress.

  I knew Aidan had such pull, but I had no idea he would be so quick. At 7 am I called Gilly to tell her the good news.

  “If you don’t marry this man, I will,” she said over the noise of their Italian coffee maker.

  “Oi,” I heard Dan’s voice in the background, “you’re taken in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “Just make the coffee my little sex slave, or you’ll get another whipping.”

  “Okay, that’s too much sharing, Gillian. I’ll see you at the office in a bit. Tell Dan I said hi.”

  My loft apartment started out as any other typical such space. My friends all thought I was nuts because I didn’t
move to the filthy rich hood, along with all the other millionaires. I wouldn't budge. It started as a beautiful, airy space and as I made more money, I transformed it slowly but surely into my own paradise.

  Large windows opened up the skyline and ensured the most beautiful view of the bay. It was very artsy. After all, I was a true designer at heart, and preferred to surround myself with the eclectic for inspiration. A feature that caught everyone’s eye was the beaten bronze wall that ran from floor to ceiling in the kitchen. The naked brick of the rest of the interior complimented the bronze perfectly. My love for eclectic decor was visible throughout the space, and when I locked myself away in my happy place, the cares of the world melted away into darkness.

  It was definitely a day for casual wear. Sorting the fabric down in the warehouse was sometimes dusty work, so I slipped into my faded denim and a grey cashmere button down jumper. I decided on a comfy pair of ankle boots, and I was ready.

  The air was a bit nippy, so I drove with the top up. When I got to the office, Gilly was there, armed with a notepad and a smile. Getting the order sheets ready, she asked, “How about a quick cup of coffee before we’re knee-deep in crates?”

  “Sounds heavenly. A Cannoli or two won’t hurt,” I said. “I’ll ask Fran to head on down to the bakery and bring us back some reinforcements.”

  “There goes the eating plan. Where do you put those Cannoli anyway? You got hollow legs that I don’t know about?” Gilly rolled her eyes and patted me on the backside.

  “My locust genes, I guess.”

  “Uhg, sometimes I just hate you.”

  “Says the one with the perfect boyfriend.”

  “Touche. Cannoli it is.”

  When Fran brought the coffee and Cannoli, Gilly and I stuffed our faces. We chatted for a while about upcoming designer shows and orders we had to fill, and at around eleven, we got the call telling us the shipment was on its way to the warehouse.

  “Let’s see what the Italians sent us,” she said.

  “Let’s do this.”

  The warehouse was eighty thousand square feet, and if you didn’t know your shit, you could easily end up spending a week wandering around, looking for a specific fabric.

  Pierre grinned from ear to ear when he saw Gilly and me.

  “I won’t even ask.” He smiled, as he checked in crate after crate of fabric, showing the pallet trucks where to take them to.

  “Yup, friends in high places,” Gilly mocked in an Italian accent.

  “That wouldn’t be billionaire places, would it?” He grinned but kept his eye on his clipboard.

  “Okay, you two. Cut it out. More work, less sass.”

  The three of us spent the afternoon sorting through boxes, checking the fabric for blemishes, and making sure the entire order was delivered.

  “It looks like it’s all here, Boss. This is the last of it.”

  “Fantastic. Gilly, will you hit enter on the balance of payment, and then I’ll send out the urgent fabric to the sewing rooms.”

  “Thanks, Pierre. Great work, as always.”

  “No thanks needed. All I ask is that you remember me come bonus time. A small deposit on a villa in Athens will be thanks enough.”

  “It’s wonderful to see that optimism is alive and well.” I laughed at Pierre.

  “Can’t blame a guy for dreaming.”

  “Who knows, Pierre? Maybe one day I’ll bring back a very special heiress for you from one of my high-end shows.”

  “You’re a saint, Jayde. A saint. Oh, just as a side, would you bring me one with huge jugs, please?”

  Gilly and I laughed, then left the warehouse.

  “You want to grab a bite?” Gilly asked as we called it a day.

  “Thanks, but I’m ordering Chinese and couch surfing tonight. I’m bushed. You go ahead and get a massage from that cutie you’ve got stashed away at home.”

  “Excellent idea. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t fall asleep on the couch again.”

  “Yes, Ma.”

  My Mustang whisked me away to my mansion in the sky. I snuggled on the couch with the remote in one hand and a Chinese feast in the other. It was seldom that I had time all to myself. I kicked off my boots and got stuck into the egg rolls. Halfway through my second bite, my phone rang. I was pissed at myself for forgetting to turn it off, but like all millennials, I found it almost impossible not to answer a ringing phone.

  “Hello,” I answered rather impatiently.

  “Hi, Jayde. It’s Kyle.”

  The bastard called me from a number I didn’t recognize, or I would never have bothered.

  “What do you want?”

  “To apologize,” he started.

  “Get it through your thick skull, asshole. I don’t care how sorry you are. We are over. Don’t call me again.”

  Son of a bitch!

  Less than two minutes later, the phone rang again. I couldn’t help myself.

  “Leave me the fuck alone, you son of a bitch!” I yelled as I answered.

  “Not exactly the ‘thank you’ I was hoping for, but okay.”

  “Oh, shit. Sorry, Aidan. That wasn’t meant for you.” Ground swallow me now!

  “I gathered. Who’s inspiring such wrath from an otherwise pleasant creature such as yourself?” he asked bemused.

  “Never mind. It’s not worth the waste of oxygen. I thought you were in Spain?”

  “I am. Just checking to see that you received your fabric.”

  “Great, now I feel even worse,” I said, egg roll on my face. “Yes, you saved my butt.”

  “Good. Well, I’ll let you get back to your exercise in verbal abuse. See you soon.”

  “Thanks, Aidan.”

  “No problem.”

  For a brief moment, I allowed myself the luxury of imagining a scenario where Aidan and I were a couple. He was the most attractive man I’d ever seen, chiseled ass and all, and he was a really good guy. But he’d never so much as hinted any sort of romantic feelings toward me.

  When Kyle ripped out my heart and stomped on it, Aidan stayed close to me. He was an amazing friend and protector during my time of weakness. Once, I thought I saw a look in his eyes that men give you when they want to rip off your clothes and ravish you, but I suspect that was the tequila talking. I was feeling terribly sorry for myself. The last thing I wanted was the shame of a pity fuck. That would be one too many blows to my already fragile ego.

  Okay, Jayde. Snap out of it. You’ve got a shit load to do this week, so don’t complicate your life more than it already is. Finish your egg rolls and go to bed!

  Chapter 4

  AIDAN

  She was feisty, alright, but beneath her sharp tongue, I heard the voice of a woman scorned. She was adorable when she was pissed. I had a good mind to break Kyle’s face, but that was a juvenile way of exacting payback. I’d think of something to punish the weasel. Hit him where it hurts—his pocket.

  The flight to Spain was without incident, apart from the pain in my calves after chasing Joey around on the squash courts for hours. At least my ego was intact. I managed to beat him by a hair's breadth and suffered his bleating for the next few hours.

  I was happy to catch a quick nap on the jet before Derek caught me up on the finer details of our deal with the Spanish clients. One of the perks of having money was the ability to hire the best minds out there. Derek was such a mind. I scooped him up straight after he earned his degree, and he proved to be a brilliant find. He was fairly young, but a genius all the same.

  There were a hundred different shipping companies in Spain. The infrastructure of the country ensured a very well-run industry. I’d been reaching out to Spanish shipping for a couple of years and had very good trade deals in place. My father taught me that doing business successfully was not something that could be done from a distance. It was a valuable lesson. I eyeballed my associates at least twice a year, three times if necessary, to keep the personal connection alive. In a world where everyone was a number, a personal touch m
eant a great deal.

  Moralez Shipping had recently undergone major changes, after the death of patriarch Luis Moralez. His two sons took over the operation, and I wanted to assure them of my continued support. Their high-rise office in Barcelona was my first port of call. I thought it was common courtesy to learn to speak Spanish, and so I got by after a few years’ practice. The brothers greeted me as I was shown into their boardroom.

  “Hola, Señor Davis. Cómo estás?” Matías asked as he shook my hand.

  “How was your flight?” Mateo asked as he too shook my hand.

  “Que bueno verte. You both look well. My flight was good, thanks. I was very sorry to hear of your father’s passing. He was a good man. He will be missed.”

  “Gracias. How is business back home in America?”

  “Very good, thanks. I wanted to meet with you face to face and give you my condolences, as well as assure you that it’s business as usual where I’m concerned. If I can assist in any way, please feel free to ask.”

  “That is very kind of you, Aidan. We will take you up on that if need be. Now, you must be exhausted after such a long flight. Our driver will take you to your hotel, and we’d like you to join us for a drink and tapas later. We can talk more, then.”

  “Perfect. Thank you, and I’ll see you both later.”

  “I’ll arrange a car for you with the concierge.”

  “Thank you, Mateo.”

  I looked forward to a hot shower and a good Spanish meal. Food just tasted better when prepared in the country of its origin. The hotel had all the modern specs of a world-class establishment. My suite was very comfortable, and the staff invisible, yet effective. I liked my privacy. My worst was having strangers in my private space.

  The porter brought up my bags, and housekeeping sent someone up to unpack my clothes. As soon as I was alone, I turned on the shower and stood under the powerful spray for a good five minutes. Afterward, I put on casual clothes and sat down to make a few phone calls.

  I felt a little guilty. My mom had phoned and left a message for me a few days prior, and I hadn’t returned her call. Hers was the first number I dialed.