Monroe: The Dynastic Collection: An Alpha Billionaire Romance

by Cynthia Dane

  “He said we’re going to be in Chicago for a week. What if I have to change clothes multiple times? I didn’t buy enough outfits when we went shopping!” Ms. Sarah Clayborn had appeared to take the girls for a day of shopping. I went to boutiques I had only dreamed of before. The finest fabrics and most stylish cuts were at the disposal of Monroe’s credit card. Candice was along for the ride, although Alice tried not to buy her too much. Who knew what the hard limits were? Not even Ms. Clayborn could answer that.

  “You bought half a boutique I hadn’t even heard of before.” Candice scoffed. “What’s wrong with some of the clothes you already had?”

  “Oh my God, Candice,” Alice had an anxiety attack thinking of standing next to Damon Monroe dressed in her torn jeans and a T-shirt she had kept from high school. “I could never do that. Are you nuts?”

  “Right, right. Your clothes aren’t all Versace.” Candice sighed. “I might have some things that fit you and you can take. For you know, downtime.” She kept rolling her eyes as if that was going to change Alice’s opinion. “Can’t be caught dead in your private hotel room wearing nothing but designer wear now.”

  “Candi, I’m dating a billionaire. The bastard has standards even if he doesn’t realize it.” He once hugged Alice while she was wearing her Blue Bird uniform. He couldn’t stop commenting on how “scratchy” it was. Unlike his wonder suits, of course. They were perfectly soft and great to wear. For anyone to wear. Including Alice. I like to think about curling up on the couch with one of his suit jackets. Sounded like the perfect way to end a rainy day. “Thanks, though. I’d appreciate it. Can I borrow those really soft T-shirts of yours?”

  “The white ones? Sure.”

  “Thanks.”

  Alice was leaving for Chicago the next day. Well, technically she was leaving for Chicago Midway Airport via Monroe’s personal jet. One of the Clayborns was supposed to pick her up and get on the jet with her. The last thing Alice wanted was to show up and be surrounded by perfectly dressed businessmen and women without looking like she at least financially belonged there. All the better if Monroe paid for her clothes. I’ve already picked out my outfit. A deep red cold-shoulder blouse she picked up at a boutique called The Crimson Dove. I’ve driven past that place so many times but knew I could never go inside. The cheapest thing in there had been a scarf for five-hundred dollars! Sometimes that’s the size of my whole paycheck.

  Speaking of her paycheck… Alice stared at her cell phone, realizing she had a rather important call to make.

  No, she hadn’t cleared the next few days off from work. Scott even said something about bumping her up to dinners so she could cash in on tips. I’ve proven myself there, a few blights considered. Yet…

  She picked up her phone. No time like the present to throw one’s career away for a billionaire!

  ***

  “Wow.” Alice continued to stare out the terminal window while Ms. Clayborn spoke with a flight attendant. “You sure that’s it? You’re absolutely sure? Because I’m pretty sure that’s a commercial jet. It has to be!”

  Ms. Clayborn looked over her shoulder. “That is Mr. Monroe’s jet. I assure you. I’ve flown in it many times myself.”

  Of course she had. When someone was the personal assistant to someone like Damon Monroe, they damn well did fly around in a… what was it called again? Alice glanced at her copy of the flight itinerary. Gulfstream.

  She had only heard of those jets in passing. The sort of thing people liked to gawk over, but Alice never filed away into any pertinent part of her brain. Why would she? They only time she flew was in Coach. Otherwise she took the train, or the, ugh, bus.

  All she knew about Gulfstreams was that they were super nice. And super, duper expensive.

  “This way.” Ms. Clayborn gestured to the door leading to the tarmac. “We are to be in the air within fifteen minutes.”

  The wind was plenty breezy outside, but not strong enough to delay their travel plans. If anything, Alice received a boost to her personality as she followed the assistant onto the tarmac. Warm breezes. Warmer sunshine. Pretty people in prettier clothes rolling their expensive suitcases toward one of the nicest private jets in existence! Alice felt like she was taking off for Hollywood, not Chicago. Her luxurious cold-shoulder sleeves flapping in the breeze as she pulled down a pair of thousand-dollar sunglasses and tossed her freshly trimmed hair into the wind helped matters considerably. I’m being so spoiled. I could get used to being this spoiled. If only the people at Blue Bird could see her now!

  She cringed. After all, Alice had no job to return to.

  “Welcome, Ms. Culver,” greeted the sweetest flight attendant Alice ever encountered. She wore a uniform of silky blue, a Hermes scarf wrapped prettily around her throat. “We hope that you enjoy your flight.”

  “I will, thanks!” Someone plucked Alice’s carry-on from her hands and loaded it into the cabin. She followed, careful to step in her four-inch Louboutin heels so she wouldn’t go crashing down to the tarmac like the imposter she was.

  Inside was even more luxurious. The perfect air temperature caressed Alice’s skin as she walked in, greeted by another attendant who asked if she would like water or champagne. Champagne! Was this how it felt to fly in the fifties? Once Alice suggested that water would be fine, Ms. Sarah Clayborn directed Alice to the front section of the plane. Yes. Section. As Alice soon found out, this was basically a traveling apartment!

  Beige leather beckoned Alice to sit down in the fitted jeans she purchased at a boutique dedicated to nothing but jeans. Work jeans. Everyday jeans. Torn jeans. Deep pocket jeans (for women!) Jeans that ranged in price from $20 on clearance to $900 designer jeans that came with a guarantee. Alice had gone for a more humbling $400 pair. The salesperson had come into the fitting room with her to see if any alterations had to be made. For a few seconds, Alice truly felt like someone admitted to Monroe’s world. Would she one day be fitted for a new wardrobe if she continued down this path to being his girlfriend?

  “You’re here.”

  That voice hit her in the back of the head like a well-pitched baseball. Alice spun around in her armchair, shocked to find Monroe standing in the doorway between the front section of the plane and the back. He gestured for her to join him. Alice was still too dumbstruck to move. “I didn’t know you were here,” she said. Eventually she pushed herself up and grabbed her purse out of its wire basket.

  “Of course I am here. Why wouldn’t I be?” Monroe scoffed. “Aren’t I going to Chicago as well?”

  “You made it sound like we would be traveling separately.”

  “You’re my girlfriend.” He said that loudly enough that two flight attendants turned toward them, and even Ms. Clayborn’s head slightly moved. “We also have no scheduling conflicts in this matter. Why would we travel separately? I have nothing to hide. Why? Are you ashamed to be seen with me?”

  Alice took a step back, aghast. While Monroe did not give her a cold look, his voice was about a million degrees below freezing. Ms. Clayborn went back to her tablet. One flight attendant returned to stocking the wet bar. The last one, however, shivered.

  “I am not ashamed,” Alice said. “How could you ask me that?”

  His face softened, hand touching her bare shoulder. “Just checking.” A furtive glance was shot toward the bothered flight attendant. “Come back here with me. Ms. Clayborn has plenty to keep her busy during the flight.”

  Alice should not have been surprised to find a new world in the back of the jet, yet she was. Instead of the neutral beige up front, this section was decorated entirely in black leather seating and a king sized bed cordoned off with a sliding screen. A panel hid an entertainment center. There were plenty of snacks and drinks to keep them happy – and unbothered by overly helpful flight attendants. They probably even had their own bathroom complete with shower! This is even nicer than his yacht. Did Monroe actually live at one address? Or did he spend his whole time hopping from one venue to the next? The famil
y penthouse one night, his yacht the next, maybe a hotel to round out the week… I could never put up with that. Alice preferred to have one cozy place to call her own.

  Monroe shut the door behind them. “We’ll have to sit down for takeoff, but after that, you can come and go as you please.” He showed her to one of the leather couches. “I hope that everything has been agreeable with you lately?”

  Alice nodded. Feels weird being beside him again. The last time they interacted, his father threatened her, and his mother – or at least she was pretty sure that was Mrs. Monroe – stole into the back of Alice’s car and warned her to stay far, far away from Damon and his ilk. I didn’t listen. Alice thought she would. After she returned home, she was almost determined to throw away anything the man had given her and stop returning his messages. Then…

  Then Ms. Clayborn showed up to take Alice and Candice shopping.

  How could Alice willingly turn this lifestyle down, or at least until she gave it the ol’ college try? I would be a damn fool. Of course his father didn’t like her. Why would he? She was a nobody from County Poor People compared to that family. As for the mother? Even if that was her and not some crazy vagrant, she was clearly from another planet. No wonder Russell divorced her.

  This was what Alice told herself as she willingly spent Monroe’s money and dressed herself up for his approval. (Hers as well, of course. She wouldn’t present him with something unless she thought it great first!) Now she stepped onto his plane to go to Chicago for almost a week. A week of what? Sex. Let’s be real. Alice hoped for some proper touristing in there, but she had a feeling that she was at Monroe’s scheduling whim. Why would he want to go see some sites when he could keep her in bed? Not like I’m complaining…

  The captain, a middle aged man with a clean-shaven face, knocked on the door before stepping in. “We’re all good to go, Mr. Monroe. We’ll be taking off in about five minutes.”

  “Excellent. Give us the signal when we’re free to move about the cabin.”

  “Absolutely.” The door closed again.

  “I’ve never flown like this before,” Alice confessed. “I didn’t even know jets like this existed.” She realized how stupid she sounded the moment she said it. “I mean… of course they exist… just… they never existed in my world before?”

  Monroe’s arm snaked across the back of the couch. He was not in a hurry to touch her, however. “There’s a lot for me to expose you to, it appears.” He chuckled. “I take so much of this for granted. The planes, the shopping, the food… sometimes I forget it’s not mundane to other people. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

  Were they moving? It felt like they were moving. Only not really. Maybe that was Alice’s stomach doing somersaults. “You had a plane like this when you were a kid?”

  “To be fair, technology has improved dramatically since I was a child. Though yes, we had the top of the line private jet for that day.” He must have meant the early ‘90s. What were planes like back then, anyway?

  “You’ve really lived a life of privilege.”

  Monroe stiffened. Was he put out that Alice was bringing this up? “One of my first memories is traveling on a plane,” he said, quietly. “I used to be scared of it.”

  “Really? You? Scared of anything?”

  He neither frowned nor smiled. “All children are scared of something. I was afraid of crashing. I remember my mother piling a ton of blankets on top of me and suffocating me until I felt safe. She spent a whole three hour flight like that.”

  “You remember how long it was?”

  “I remember we flew from here to somewhere in Ohio. Random details like that stick with you.”

  “Speaking of your mother…” No. Alice wouldn’t bring up that. For some reason she knew, in the back of her thickening head, that such a thing was a terrible idea. “Do you still talk to her? You’ve made it sound like she’s out of your life.”

  Monroe leaned away from her, nose involuntarily crinkling. “I haven’t seen her in many years, no. After the divorce, my mother disappeared from my life. I couldn’t even tell you where she lives now.”

  “You haven’t gone looking for her?” Even if Alice hadn’t known about some crazy allegations, it was at least strange to her that a grown man with the means and money hadn’t gone searching for his mother.

  “She left my life for a reason. I don’t have the time or resources to go looking for someone who clearly doesn’t care about me. My father… no, never mind.”

  What if I told you otherwise? His father? Alice had a hunch that whatever Russell was telling his son was nothing but a bunch of lies. Yet how did a woman tell her boyfriend, whom she barely knew, that his father was akin to a shitweasel?

  “I’m sorry to hear about that.”

  “Your parents are still together, right?”

  That question caught her off guard. “Yes, they are.” Alice’s father still took her mother on surprise trips every birthday and anniversary. Sometimes they weren’t much, but even staying in a hotel a few towns away and pretending to be tourists was better than sitting around home and waiting for something fun to happen.

  “I’m rather envious of that. Most of the couples I know who are my parents’ age have either divorced or only stay together out of propriety. There’s nothing like respect there, whether emotionally or physically. What I mean is that there is a lot of infidelity,” Monroe was quick to explain. “I don’t want that in my life. I want someone I can see myself being happy with forever. I would divorce before I cheated.”

  The plane was definitely moving. Alice wondered if she should buckle up. For takeoff or what Monroe was saying? Who knew? “You have a lot of honor in your relationships.”

  “Honor? I suppose so. All I know is that I don’t want to go through the hassle of marrying someone and keeping them by my side unless I was willing to make it work. Ironically, I’ve met quite a few men like me lately. Perhaps there is a surge of lovesick husbands emerging who can’t imagine anything but their monogamy.” Was that a smile tugging at his face? “It would be nice to think about. That even the biggest playboy can meet the woman of his dreams and settle down to eternal happiness.”

  Things were seriously starting to come together. The wistful longing for “the one.” The plans to create a happy home through a happier marriage. The constant talk of honor and dues. Damon Monroe, for all his intimidating qualities, wanted the same things Alice did. They both wanted a loving, long-term monogamous relationship that would culminate in them creating the family he never got to have growing up. Forget all the conspiracies regarding his mother – in the end, it was about familial happiness. And sexual happiness, Alice supposed.

  “You take everything very seriously,” Alice pointed out.

  “Yes, I do.” His arm curled around her, fingers stroking her bare shoulders as they poked out from her red top. “I invest seriously. I love seriously. I make my plans seriously.”

  Alice grinned against his chest as he took her over on the couch. “What are your current plans, Mr. Monroe?”

  He smiled against her throat. “My current long-term plans are to secure more business transactions for my family and to make you my wife. Every business decision I make right now has you guiding it, whether you know it or not.”

  There goes that marriage talk again! Alice didn’t know whether to laugh, full of fanciful daydreams, or to tell him to slow the hell down. “What are your short-term plans?”

  His hand clasped her thigh. “To get into these blasted pants of yours.”

  What Monroe wanted, he frequently got. That included getting into Alice’s pants as he inducted her into the Mile-High club, with no bindings or blindfolds involved. As for getting her as his wife? Alice would entertain those fantasies for a while longer. Like him, however, she took such deliberations seriously. Even if he got down on one knee right now – and not to give her pleasure – and asked her to marry him, she wasn’t sure she would say yes. There was still too little she knew about h
im. Too much at stake.

  Chicago would be a good opportunity to get a better look into the mind and soul of Damon Monroe. Until then, Alice would have to be content with getting more acquainted with the physical side of things. At least the flight would go by quickly!

  Chapter 2

  Alice had been mistaken about flying into Chicago Midway Airport. She exclaimed her mistake as they touched down on some otherwise unmarked runway outside of the city center.

  “Why would we fly into such a busy place like that?” Monroe gathered his things while confirming last minute details with Ms. Sarah Clayborn.

  “You said we weren’t flying into O’Hare…”

  He gave her an incredulous look while one of the flight attendants opened the plane door. “There are more than two airports in Chicago, I can assure you, Ms. Culver.”

  Oof. He was calling her Ms. Culver in front of everyone. Alice was catching on that such a name was considered formal in these situations.

  He must have caught on to her embarrassment. “This is a private airstrip. Most of the other airports are too busy or too small to accommodate a jet as large as ours. There’s nothing to be confused about. We’ll be driving into the city center.” Was that smile forced or what? Even Ms. Clayborn was on the verge of rolling her eyes. “Everything has been taken care of.”

  Of course. Of course everything had been taken care of. What was Alice thinking, anyway?

  “Thank you for flying with us, Mr. Monroe,” said the snotty flight attendant. Her nicer coworker was nowhere to be found. When she turned to Alice, she looked her up and down, sniffed, and said, “Thanks for flying.”

  Ouch.