Bargaining with the Billionaire (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove)

by Maria Hoagland

  “Kian?” Autumn nudged him playfully with her elbow. “Earth to Kian.”

  Pretending to have been engrossed in the fireworks display, he shook his head and turned to focus on the beautiful woman at his side.

  “What’s your shocking news?” she asked again.

  He gave her a lazy smile even while he tried to come up with something other than the truth. “It turns out Mafalda Capone had a thing for jewelry.”

  “Well, she was a woman of taste, then.” Autumn gave the kind of smile that clearly said she was playing along.

  Overhead, the finale boomed, lighting the sky with red, white, and blue sparkles. With a contented sigh, she leaned back to watch, placing her hands on either side of her and gripping onto the edge of the stair so she could lean back. Her hand brushed his, her pinky overlapping his. Until the fireworks finished, Kian barely dared to breathe, let alone move, for fear she would notice and pull away.

  That was one more reason not to have this conversation—he couldn’t give up Mafalda, not yet. Trying to staying one step ahead of this intelligent woman had become the highlight of his day. Oh, she was onto him for sure, but she hadn’t figured it out quite yet.

  13

  A week later, Autumn was psyched to present her designs to Veronica. While she’d wanted to have a few more finished pieces to show off, what she had was a good representation of her work, and she was pleased with the quality produced in such a short time.

  She had probably thirty or so sketches, most of them complete and with more shading and color than she typically invested in her drawings. She also had several wax models ready for casting that included a couple of bracelets, earrings, and pendants. And then there were the finished pieces. She had a delicate butterfly necklace and the dragonfly ring that was so complex, it had commandeered most of her attention.

  She checked the time. The afternoon dragged on, and it shouldn’t have felt that way. Because of the appointment, she’d decided to close up shop an hour early to make sure she and Veronica wouldn’t get interrupted. She looked around the shop. Everything was tidy—including the workstation that she had decorated with a tablecloth, some lanterns, fresh flowers, and mini LED lights that made her thick, battered leather-bound sketchbook look classy.

  The bell over the door dinged, and for a second, Autumn’s heart raced with the thought that Veronica was there early. She took a deep breath, collected her nerves, and looked up to see Kian grinning at her, a small purple gift bag dangling from his fingers. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  Autumn squeezed her fingers into tight fists and rolled up on the balls of her wedged sandals. “Scared-excited-happy-stressed,” she said as if it were one word.

  His laugh, the soft chuckle that enveloped her like a warm hug, eased her tension. “I brought you something for good luck.”

  She tilted her head to the side, taking in his strong jaw covered with blond stubble—at that stage that it probably felt soft to the touch—his smoldering grin, and those eyes she could get lost in every day. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  They hadn’t seen much of each other over the past week. With the Fourth of July and the onslaught of tourists it brought as well as the added strain of her work schedule, they’d both been pretty busy, but through it all, he’d more than kept his end of the quiet bargain so far. Tonight would be the biggest test of his resolve.

  He handed her the small bag. “It’s not much. More the thought than anything.”

  She accepted the gift and led him to the small couch. Once they were seated, she pulled out a black velvet drawstring bag that sounded and felt like . . . “Coins?”

  He paired a half smile with a half shrug.

  More curious than ever, she opened the bag and poured a handful of silver metal disks about the size of a half dollar into her palm. Each was stamped with a cute saying in a different font. “You got this,” one said. “Choose happiness,” “You be you,” “Have faith,” and “Relax” also winked up from her hand.

  “You can’t read my favorite one.” Kian reached over and pinched one that was upside down, his fingers brushing her palm and sending happy goose bumps down that side of her body. “You make me smile,” he read as he flipped it over.

  “This is so thoughtful.” He had to have planned ahead to get them. They didn’t look like the kind of thing he could buy at the gift shop down the street.

  “I just wanted to wish you luck.” He stood, and she felt a little sad that he wasn’t going to stick around.

  “Thank you.” She took his favorite coin and slipped it into a tiny, decorative pocket on the hip of her sundress. She slipped the rest of the coins back into their velvet bag. “Now I won’t be alone. It’ll be like you’re right here with me.” She said it teasingly and patted the pocket with her hand, but in truth, it boosted her confidence more than he would know.

  He shook his head as he walked toward the exit, but he was also holding back a smile. “You’ll do great.” He opened the door but waited for a large family to pass, tumbling down the stairs like a litter of playful puppies. “Let me know how it goes.”

  From the moment Veronica Ball walked into the Looking Glass—with her striking beauty and cold expression—Autumn knew this wasn’t going to be good. Hattie Smith, Emily Wood’s assistant at the chamber of commerce, was always exhaustingly energetic and happy, yet today she stood at Veronica’s side completely wilted, body and soul. Autumn’s confidence soured. If Veronica had crushed Hattie’s spirit, Autumn was sure to be next.

  Gathering her resolve, Autumn pasted on her billionaire persona. While she felt she hadn’t quite grown comfortable with her new status, she had earned every bit. Flipping through mental images of her many satisfied customers, she took comfort with the idea that this meeting would be no different.

  “Welcome to my father’s shop.” She waved them in and offered them water, which they declined. “How are you liking Eureka Springs?” Being so new to the area herself, it felt odd to ask the question.

  Veronica looked up to the ceiling and sighed. “If Aaron didn’t live here, I wouldn’t bother.” She shook her head. “I’m told you have pieces to show me? I’m sorry to be short. I just don’t have much time and way too many details to take care of.”

  O-kay. Autumn bit back her retort. Strictly speaking, she didn’t need to put up with someone like this. She certainly didn’t need the money. At the same time, she couldn’t let her father down. He’d been trying so hard to be part of this community when he’d offered her services, and she didn’t want to disappoint. She could put up with one snooty woman for a few minutes in exchange for all the celebrities who would be at the auction, wearing her jewelry. That was what she needed to focus on—the exposure, the in-person advertising. What could be better?

  She walked the women to the worktable. The humble space might not impress Veronica, but that was okay. She would wow her with her designs. “These are some of the sketches and models I’ve created for the Barefoot Ball silent auction. I wanted something that said Eureka Springs, and these designs were inspired by the colorful culture of the town and the breathtaking beauty of the Ozark Mountains.”

  Veronica shuffled through a few of the sketches, barely pausing enough to take in any of the details, then pushed the book away with disgust. When she picked up one of the bracelet models, she pinched it, holding it out from her as though it might contaminate her.

  This piece was Autumn’s favorite of the collection. The intricate details of the rosebuds had taken hours to carve, and Autumn had been thrilled with how it had turned out. “That particular bracelet will be cast in white, yellow, and rose gold. Each bud will be set with one of a variety of gemstones, each in a slightly different shade pink.”

  Veronica peered at it a second longer and then set it clumsily down on the table. “Frankly, Autumn, I’m underwhelmed.” Her expression read completely disappointed. “You’re going to have to come up with something different.”

  Autumn shook her he
ad. Excuse me! she wanted to say. She forced herself to remain calm. “What don’t you like?”

  Veronica gave her a look that said, Are you crazy? “How about everything?”

  Ouch. That was rude.

  Next to Veronica, Hattie’s eyes widened so much, she looked like one of those squishy rubber figures whose eyes bugged out when you squeezed them.

  Hattie’s expression shored up Autumn’s resolve not to react. “You’re going to need to be more specific.” Autumn touched a pendant of a couple of swirling leaves. She loved everything about it and would cast it for herself if nothing else.

  Veronica picked up the dragonfly ring. “Too fussy.” She dropped it and picked up the earrings. “Too plain.” The butterfly necklace. “Too juvenile.” She swirled her hand over everything. “Too . . . prosaic. Nature.” She sounded bored. “Really?”

  Fire lit in Autumn’s belly. “Yes, really. Nature promises new beginnings, growth, and transformation. It’s beautiful and speaks to the soul—”

  “It’s not sophisticated enough for this crowd,” Veronica cut her off. “Look,” she said, a manicured hand on her tiny hip, “you might hate me for this, but you’ll be happy in the end.” She pushed her red hair back over her equally thin shoulder. “I have a reputation for having people push themselves to perfection.” She leveled a steely gaze at Autumn. “You’ll thank me for it later.”

  Autumn wanted to spit all the vitriolic comebacks running through her head at Veronica, but she could be professional. “When I asked for a theme or direction, I was told there weren’t any.” The disappointment of Veronica’s words was a shot into the dam holding up the last of her emotional reserves. Autumn held strong, but just barely. She’d pushed herself to exhaustion to create this collection that she loved so much, only to be told it wasn’t good enough. She forced her smile larger, unwilling to give Veronica a peek into her heart. “Okay. So this doesn’t mesh with what you were envisioning.” As if Autumn could read this person’s mind—a person she’d never even met. “How do you suggest I proceed?”

  Veronica pulled her purse strap up tighter on her shoulder. “You’re the world-famous jewelry designer. I’ll leave it up to you.”

  That was right. Autumn was the world-famous jewelry designer, not this Veronica Ball who worked for a friend of hers. What had Aaron been thinking when he’d hired her? Whatever Autumn came up with next would be the right thing. She didn’t care what Veronica thought. She would give the client one veto, and this was it. Picky Ms. Ball would have no say next time around.

  Retaining her professional demeanor, Autumn stuck her hand in her pocket and rubbed the coin between her thumb and forefinger. She made Kian smile, and thank goodness for that, because right now, the thought of him was the only thing keeping her from bursting into tears. His belief in her shored her up when it threatened to crumble out from under her.

  14

  The door thudded solidly behind Kian as he stepped onto the fairly busy street. Closing the club tonight likely had cost him. Not too much, though, considering he didn’t have the karaoke equipment yet and was still working on getting the snack bar approved by the city. He’d just started up the stairs to Spring Street when Autumn started down.

  “I can’t believe you did it!” Her face shining with incredulity was worth every sacrifice. Not that it had been much of one—at least not because of her request. Having a quiet night was worth it so she could have one.

  “You’re welcome,” he said. When they met on the landing halfway up the steps, he hooked his arm through hers and turned her so she was heading upstairs again. “I’m looking forward to hearing you onstage tomorrow night.”

  Autumn tensed, and he dropped her arm. Maybe she wasn’t someone who liked to be touched, even in friendly jest. “I’ll be there.” She lacked even a hint of humor.

  Was she angry with him for some reason? Hadn’t he held up his end of the bargain?

  “You have no idea how hard that was, though,” he said conversationally, trying to bring her back to the companionable rapport they’d shared the last couple of weeks. “Being quiet cost me greatly.”

  “I’m sure.” She forced a chuckle, but none of it was real.

  There were times for comedy, but this wasn’t one of them. He matched her mood. “Your meeting didn’t go well, did it?” he asked quietly, respectful of the hurt she might be feeling.

  “Not so much, no.” She sucked in her lower lip.

  “Don’t tell me she didn’t like it.”

  “Not even a smidge.”

  Autumn seemed to need to talk even, if her short answers said the opposite.

  They’d reached the top of the stairs next to the Looking Glass, but he didn’t want to leave her. “Walk with me.” He tipped his head down Spring Street. “What did she say was wrong with your designs?” It was crazy. Although he was no expert—nowhere close—he’d thought them beautiful. He even knew which he would have bought for his mother, if she’d still been alive.

  Autumn shook her head in disgust. “That’s the thing. I asked up front about her expectations, and she gave me absolutely nothing. It was like working for a ghost. If she doesn’t give me direction, how am I supposed to know what she wants? I’m not a mind reader.”

  Her quick pace matched the flow of her words, and her frustration was evident. He wanted to ask again what the client had said was wrong with the designs, but stopped himself. Autumn didn’t need him to solve her problem; she needed someone in her corner, someone who believed in her. “That’s frustrating.” He put himself in her position. “And terribly unprofessional, when it comes down to it.”

  “I think so too! If the client doesn’t communicate their expectations, they can’t expect you to just magically meet them.” The breath she blew out resembled a growl. “What bugs me the most, I think, is that—” She laughed and threw her hands into the air. “—not that she has an opinion so much, but yeah, even the prince didn’t come back to me after I invested hours of work into the engagement ring and say, ‘Nope. That’s not what I was thinking.’” She shook her head. “He told me what he liked, asked if I could do a little more of this or a tweak this a little, but never . . . Ugh,” she finished through clenched teeth. She blew out a long breath. “Sorry for the rant.” She looked around them, as if just now realizing they were walking somewhere. “Where are we going?”

  “A meeting.”

  “At 8 o’clock at night?” Her brows came together, and he realized he was being just as vague as her client had been.

  “A chamber of commerce town hall meeting thing.” He wasn’t exactly sure what it was called. He shrugged. “I’m on the chamber of commerce executive board—we’re a group of twelve small-business owners. We meet monthly to plan activities and talk about how to support local businesses. Quarterly, we open up to everyone. We let them know what’s coming up, get their ideas on what they’d like to do, fill committees, that kind of thing.”

  “And tonight is one of those quarterly meetings?”

  Hearing a skateboarder gaining ground behind them, Kian reached around Autumn and pulled her in front of him so that if anyone would be hit, it would be him. She squeaked in surprise but followed his lead and ended up in his arms, her hands on his chest to catch herself. The boarder swooshed between them and the shops on their right, exactly where Autumn had been a moment before.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, breathless.

  He was equally out of breath. “You’re welcome.” His heart thundered in his chest, and he suspected it had less to do with the near-miss and more to do with her proximity. This close, he could see the smoothness of her skin, the wrinkle between her eyebrows, the flecks of green in her expressive brown eyes.

  Before he got lost in those eyes, he took a step back. He couldn’t allow himself to be attracted to his upstairs neighbor, not when she’d be leaving Eureka Springs in another month and a half. And yet he couldn’t help himself. The memory of this spunky woman storming his door in the middle of th
e night brought him all kinds of joy.

  “What are you smiling at?” Autumn dropped her hands from his chest, eyes squinted in suspicion.

  He dropped the goofy grin. It wasn’t like he could tell her that truth, but there were other things that could make sense in this situation. “I’m just glad I heard the skateboarder before we turned.” He lifted a hand to point at the door next to them. “We’re here.” Good thing his affinity for loud music hadn’t affected his hearing. Yet.

  He opened the door for Autumn, and the two joined the growing throng of local men and women chatting among themselves. A few minutes later, Emily Wood brought the meeting to order. She went through some of the upcoming events, giving each event chair a few minutes for updates. “Last time, we were brainstorming for that open weekend in November but never decided on anything. Kian, you offered to come up with a headliner. Any progress there?”

  Kian had known this was coming, but that didn’t make answering the question any more comfortable. “Still working on that.” As in, he had absolutely no idea, but not for lack of trying.

  “Make sure to bring us something next board meeting. Or if anyone else has suggestions for him, contact Kian Gould at Spokes.”

  He squirmed uncomfortably at being called out. Now everyone knew he needed help, but he wasn’t ready to abdicate this opportunity. He’d find the right one. The nice thing about Emily’s comment was that she hadn’t given up on him completely.

  “Time’s getting tight,” she warned.

  As if he didn’t know that. But he also knew the safety net of Grant was there—he’d pretty much already told Kian that. “I should have something finalized soon.”

  Emily nodded, and her gaze went to Autumn, who was sitting next to Kian. “Welcome, Ms. Molinero.” She looked over the small crowd. “Everyone, Autumn’s father is Tommy Molinero, owner of the stained-glass shop, the Looking Glass. She’s here taking care of his shop while he’s out of the country, but you might not know, she also runs her own business. She’s the jewelry designer Aaron Mills hired to design the jewelry for the Barefoot Ball silent auction.” Then she turned back to Autumn. “Do you have any updates for us? A theme for the jewelry, perhaps?”