A Family for the Billionaire

by Dani Wade

  They’d been looking at dresses for the masquerade for over half an hour already at a small local boutique where Jasmine usually bought her formal clothing. Ivy was attending the masquerade with her. She loved parties. Willow was more than happy to help pick out everyone’s attire, then stay home with Auntie and Rosie.

  The three of them had done this on quite a few occasions. Many times Ivy had assisted Jasmine at her events so she had an extra pair of hands. This time, her little sister was coming because what Jasmine and Royce had put together was totally cool.

  But Jasmine had never had a problem finding a dress. Today was the exception, apparently.

  She knew what the problem was, but she didn’t want to acknowledge it. What difference did it make what dress she wore? After all, Royce had seen her naked on more than one occasion. But her stupid feminine psyche seemed stuck on finding the perfect dress. The dress that would wow Royce, make him proud to have her standing next to him.

  At least, she assumed that’s what she would be doing...when she wasn’t conferring with caterers and waitstaff and Dominic, among others. Royce hadn’t actually spelled that part out yet.

  But she wasn’t going to live with the same angst she’d had before their visit to the Jeffersons’ Sunday Salon. They’d gone out to dinner a few times since then. She’d felt safe assuming they’d present themselves as a couple, of sorts. By now she knew Royce wasn’t the type of man who needed her on his arm the entire time. But when they were together, she knew he wouldn’t ignore her.

  Still, she hoped she got to have at least one dance with him...

  “So, what’s the problem?” Willow asked.

  “I just can’t find what I’m looking for.” Jasmine glanced once more across the rows and rows of silky fabrics and sequins.

  “What are you looking for?” Willow asked, the confusion in her voice echoing Jasmine’s own conflicted emotions.

  “I haven’t figured that out, either.”

  Luckily, Willow didn’t lose patience quickly. “At least we know where the problem is.”

  Jasmine tried to explain. “I don’t want it to be too sexy, because I’m also there in a professional capacity. But I also don’t want it to be too businesslike, because...”

  “Royce won’t find that sexy?”

  It took her a minute to admit it. “Well, yes.”

  “Where are these nerves still coming from? Y’all are great together.”

  And Jasmine knew that was true. In every single way except one: Rosie. After seeing Royce with his father, she knew better than anyone why he limited his time around children. A conviction that deep wasn’t going to disappear overnight. She felt like she had to protect at least part of her heart, when what she really wanted was to jump in with both feet and leave her worries in the dust.

  “I really enjoy being with Royce,” she began.

  Ivy stuck her head out of her dressing room. “Of course you do.”

  “But I just don’t know that it can ever be something permanent.”

  Willow seemed to get this, although Ivy rolled her eyes. “Don’t you trust Royce?” Ivy asked.

  “In just about every way.”

  Willow peeked at her solemnly over the stack of dresses she’d started loading into her arms. “Then what is it that’s holding you back?”

  “Rosie.”

  “Why?” Ivy asked again.

  “Babies are a big responsibility.”

  Ivy shrugged. “He seems to do fine whenever he’s with her.”

  “But the occasional cuddle here and there isn’t the same as living with a child. Royce has...issues.”

  “This is true,” Willow confirmed.

  Ivy, however, wasn’t convinced. “What kind of issues?”

  Jasmine forced herself back to her task, listlessly sifting through the racks. She wasn’t sharing Royce’s secrets. They were his to share, not hers. Willow reached over her to pick up dresses she’d overlooked.

  After an uninspired search, they wandered toward the dressing rooms with just a few items. “Did the Jeffersons give you flack because you’re dating your client?” Willow asked.

  “Nope. Which surprised me a little. I wasn’t sure how they’d feel.” Jasmine glanced over at Willow and lowered her voice a little, even though they were the only ones there at the moment. “Turns out Marilyn used to be Don’s secretary.”

  Willow’s green eyes went wide. “Wow. Never would have guessed that one. Every time I’ve met them, she just seems to...fit.”

  “I know. From admin assistant to billionaire wife. She has always seemed the perfect person to be at Don’s side.”

  Ivy called from her dressing room. “Ooh, maybe I should join the trend...”

  Jasmine was standing in the hallway not far from Ivy’s curtained alcove. “It isn’t as easy as you think.”

  “Why not?”

  Jasmine couldn’t tell if Ivy was being serious or just giving her older sister a hard time, which she liked to do on occasion.

  “What if it ends?” Jasmine finally asked. “You’re in the position of needing a new job then. If just one of you decides it isn’t working, it can get messy. How do you act in front of people?” Jasmine was up close and personal with that particular situation, which was made even trickier because her business was dependent on appearances. “How much do you tell? How much do you keep to yourself? It’s just very complicated.”

  “True. Still...”

  Willow leaned closer but didn’t bother to lower her voice. “Have you seen Ivy’s boss? He’s dreamy. He might actually be worth the risk.”

  “Well, if Ivy thinks it’s worth it, she can have this ring.” It was just complicating Jasmine’s life. Though she’d never admit it to her sisters, the ring had indeed done its job. She couldn’t deny that she wanted Royce forever...but a big part of her still doubted she would actually have him that long.

  “Maybe the night of the masquerade,” Ivy said, “especially if I wear this—”

  She came out of the dressing room in a formal green dress. It faithfully followed her curves. Jewel chips formed flowers across the bodice and down one hip. The fit was gorgeous on Ivy’s petite yet rounded figure. The color perfectly complemented her dark blond hair.

  “Wow, Ivy,” Jasmine breathed. “That’s beautiful.”

  “Considering he’s never seen me in anything but a business suit, I certainly hope my boss thinks so...”

  Sixteen

  Jasmine hung her dress in the alcove off the ballroom of Keller House, once again amazed at its brilliant blue color. The off-the-shoulder style and intricate beading were perfect. A fitted bodice flowed into a layered, full skirt that showcased her shape. Thank goodness the owner of the shop had stepped in and found an answer to her dress conundrum.

  If only everything else were that easy.

  The next two days certainly wouldn’t be. She was at Keller House today to oversee the final setup. Most of tomorrow would be spent in preparation for the masquerade tomorrow night, and then there would be the event itself. Sunday she was hoping for a lazy sleep in, but as little as poor Rosie had seen of her this week, she wasn’t holding her breath that the munchkin would cooperate.

  She could at least have a lazy Sunday at home, though.

  She made her way through the finished hallways to the incredible kitchen Royce had had installed. It was up and running, the catering staff currently finding a home for everything. She could see Geraldine laying out her plan and giving instructions on how to execute it. Having worked with the woman before, Jasmine didn’t think there would be any problems there. Geraldine was as thorough and organized as Jasmine.

  It would all work. The food was one area Jasmine didn’t have to worry a lot about, but she couldn’t stop herself from going over her checklist.


  “Dominic, are you bumming samples?” Jasmine teased when she found the photographer in the kitchen.

  He grinned. “Busted.”

  “We can always use an independent taste test,” Geraldine said.

  “Then you are a more generous woman than me.” Jasmine smiled. “Of course, I know exactly how much he likes the sweet stuff. Doesn’t Greg keep you in good supply at home?”

  “Don’t give away my secrets,” Dominic said in a mock whisper.

  “Okay... I’ll distract you with a video, instead.”

  “Miss Rosie?” he asked.

  “You bet.”

  Jasmine pulled out her phone and cued up the video Ivy had sent her from the night before. She’d been in the other room on the phone, confirming the catering list. Her sisters hadn’t wanted to yell and distract Rosie, so they’d videoed it while they could. Thank goodness for modern digital technology.

  Dominic gasped when Rosie started to show off her new crawling skills. “She’s been rocking for a couple of weeks now...” Jasmine explained.

  “And she just took off?”

  Jasmine nodded. The excited conversation attracted the attention of the caterer and the kitchen staff, who converged on the phone to see Jasmine’s daughter’s new and exciting prowess.

  Dominic shook his head, eyeing Jasmine with a mischievous look over the crowd. “Oh, you are in trouble now, girl.”

  “For what?” Royce asked as he entered the room. His business voice was one she rarely heard anymore—the no-nonsense, almost stern tone he used to command and commandeer. She and the entire kitchen staff jumped.

  Dominic ignored them. “Check out this video of Rosie, Royce.”

  Jasmine suddenly felt like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. The phrase not a day care roamed round and round in her brain. Not only had she been discussing her daughter in detail during work hours, but she’d distracted the staff with the video, also.

  She was disrupting their productivity and focus...

  Surprisingly, Royce did look at the video...actually, he frowned. To Jasmine’s shock, he then swiped a finger across the phone and started the video over again.

  Finally, he said, “She crawled? Even though she’s so little?”

  Royce’s gaze met hers, and she could see her own feelings mirrored in his eyes. Awe, excitement and a touch of fear.

  Dominic said, “Cool, isn’t it?”

  “She’s actually crawling right on time,” Jasmine said, unable to quell her need to chatter. “Seven months. The doctors had worried about issues with her motor skills after...” Jasmine swallowed hard, trying to push back the memories of Rosie’s mother struggling with drugs early in her pregnancy to ease the pain of her cancer. But the moment she’d known Rosie was there, she’d never touched anything her doctor didn’t approve. “But she’s a little trouper.”

  Royce shook his head slowly back and forth. “I’d be afraid of stepping on her or losing her.”

  Jasmine and Dominic shared a smile. “Well, it’s not like I’m suddenly giving her free rein in the neighborhood or the keys to the car,” Jasmine teased.

  Dominic nodded in her direction. “Trust me, it’s time to invest in some baby gates. She’ll be into everything, as curious as she is.”

  “How do you know?” Royce asked.

  Dominic puffed his chest out. “Proud, loving uncle to five nieces and nephews.”

  “Five?” Royce’s surprise amused Jasmine.

  “That’s right,” Dominic confirmed. “Five. And this little cutie is gonna be a handful. I guarantee it.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t,” Jasmine warned.

  Despite her concern, Jasmine felt the glow of maternal pride. It was still fairly new, though less tentative than when Rosie had been a newborn. It had taken a while to give herself permission to feel it, to embrace it. Even though she’d legally been Rosie’s mother from day one, it had taken time for her to grow into the role. She’d shared the daily responsibilities with Rosie’s biological mother until she hadn’t been able to help anymore. Her health had gone downhill rapidly after Rosie’s birth. Her death had thrown Jasmine headlong into the reality of being responsible for such a small being’s life.

  Dominic winked. “Oh, before you know it, she’ll be standing beside you at events like this in her own ball gowns.”

  Jasmine was shaking her head before he even finished, the words causing a distant panic to mix in with her pride. “Let’s get through the challenges of potty training first...for now, back to work.”

  More than anything, she didn’t want to push her luck with Royce. He’d been pretty understanding about this whole thing, had even participated in the conversation, but she was holding up progress here. Any minute he might remember that.

  With a quick wave and a chorus of goodbyes from the kitchen staff, Jasmine headed back down the hallway to check out the formal living area where they were setting up carnival-type booths. Albeit for a very fancy carnival, that was for sure. Royce suddenly appeared at her side. For several moments, Jasmine maintained their silence.

  She could tell Royce wanted to ask her something. She was simply afraid of what it was.

  “Why weren’t you there?” he finally asked.

  “Where?”

  “Watching Rosie crawl.”

  Jasmine froze, feeling as if someone had just punched the air from her lungs. She took a deep, extra-heavy breath, then said, “I was in the other room, confirming the menu with Marco.”

  She could feel her body stiffening, bracing herself for his derision.

  “I’m sorry,” he said simply.

  What? “No I told you so?” Even though she kept her tone mild, Jasmine knew the words weren’t. But frankly, she was tired of playing a guessing game. Now was as good a time as any to figure out where Royce stood on the subject of her and her child.

  Even if it might burst her romantic bubble.

  To her surprise, Royce reached out to rub his thumb across her left cheekbone. “My mother would say you’ve given me a wonderful gift.”

  His soft tone, his happy expression, reduced her question to a whisper. “What’s that?”

  “Helping me to see that women do whatever is necessary...which isn’t always the same as what they want.”

  For a moment, Jasmine held her breath, afraid she might cry.

  “What is it?” Royce finally asked.

  “Your words are a gift to me, too.”

  * * *

  Later that evening, everyone but Jasmine had finally left the restored mansion. She could almost feel the emptiness as she made one last check of the areas of the second floor that would be open to the public at tomorrow’s masquerade.

  In midafternoon, Royce had finally left to take care of some things at his office. Dominic had finalized the process for photographs and finished setting up the incredible photo booth. The backdrop was a doctored photograph of the house itself, looking mysterious draped in gray fog under a full moon struggling to be seen. Guests would sit in an elegant open carriage polished to a fine shine. Even Jasmine couldn’t wait to have her picture taken.

  She’d made the last touches to the flower arrangements on the side tables and in the seating areas. The ice sculpture would be delivered tomorrow, along with the centerpieces for the dining tables.

  On her way back to the ballroom, Jasmine checked the long parlor along the front of the house where the carnival booths were set up. The whole length of the house had been beautifully restored, lovingly repainted with gold leaf accents. The chandeliers were original crystal period pieces and the long parlor had vintage wallpaper that Royce’s contractor had ordered from overseas. But there was only one place in the house that caused Jasmine to hold her breath when she stepped in: the ballroom.

  It was h
ard to believe people had homes with literal ballrooms in them anymore. But Royce’s made Jasmine feel like a princess whenever she walked over the threshold. One entire side featured a series of large mirrors hanging in gilded frames. The rest of the walls had panels of hand-painted murals of lords and ladies from centuries past. Jasmine had only seen them in a horrible, degraded state. The experts Royce had brought in had restored them to their former glory as closely as possible.

  Jasmine walked across the refinished floors, the click of her heels echoing. She went directly to the far wall where there was a hidden door in one of the panels. With a simple push, it allowed entrance to an alcove, but getting the right spot without knowing it beforehand was almost impossible. The room might once have been a ladies’ sitting room, a place for women to catch their breath on elegant chaises, fix their hair and check makeup in the mirror of the old-fashioned vanity, or simply stare out the window over the back gardens.

  Jasmine had a sudden itch to see her dress in the ballroom mirrors before tomorrow night’s crowd cluttered the view. After stripping to her underwear, she took the gown carefully down off the hanger and stepped into it.

  Only half of the chandeliers were on in the ballroom, giving it an even more magical feel. Jasmine had kept her heels on, so only the barest hint of the bottom edge of her dress touched the floor. Once, twice, she absently twirled before the mirrors.

  The lights sparkled off the bodice and the tiny jewels adorning the edges of each layer of the skirt. Definitely princess material. She couldn’t quite bring herself to pretend she was dancing, but the skirt flared out elegantly as she turned around and around in a circle. On one twirl, she spotted a shape in the doorway. Her heart jumped, throat closing for a moment until Royce stepped out into the soft light. Her pause was involuntary. It was as if everything stilled, waiting for him to lead the dance they’d come to share.

  Royce walked slowly toward her, the look in his eyes nowhere close to businesslike. He was wearing his everyday suit, not a tux, but he pulled off a princely demeanor, anyway.