Billionaire's Secret: The Complete Series

by Simone Sowood

  “Hell no,” Sam said.

  * * *

  I bent my knees to keep the water at my neck level. Abbie and Marla, who had acted so excited about not wearing swimsuits over lunch now turned as self-conscious as me. They too kept the water at neck level.

  Sam, on the other hand, stood at full height and let the pool’s water jets pound against her tits.

  “You’re nuts,” I said to her.

  “Gotta feel alive! You should try it. Someone at your advanced age needs it most.”

  Thanks, Sam.

  * * *

  “You guys don’t know what it’s like to be thirty,” I said, sounding far whinier than I’d intended.

  Friday night and all day Saturday wasn’t enough for me, we’d extended the festivities with a dinner out on Sunday evening as well. I’d insisted, in part as a way to ease the ache of failing to be where I thought I’d be at thirty.

  “Jen, it’s just a number, it doesn’t mean anything,” Marla said.

  “Sure, just a number to you. You’re twenty-eight. Wait till it’s your turn, then you’ll understand.”

  “Whatever. Who cares? Look at Madonna. Do you think she feels old?” Sam asked.

  “You’re comparing me to Madonna? She must be nearly sixty.”

  “It was just an example. You know what I mean. Age is all in your head.”

  “Tell that to my ovaries.”

  “If you want a family so bad, why do you keep breaking up with your boyfriends as soon as you’re with them for six months?” Abbie asked. Or snapped, really.

  She was right. I must’ve had eight or nine boyfriends during the six years she was with Matt. Without exception, I dumped every single one of them once things started getting serious. I guess I didn’t think there was any point wasting time with them once I realized they weren’t the one I wanted to settle down with.

  Or maybe because none of them measured up to Collin.

  Collin, the only man I’d ever had a long-term relationship with. We were together for nearly three years, during the end of college and our first year after it. I thought we’d be together forever. Then he decided to act on an opportunity and move to London, England to start a nightclub.

  At first he promised we’d have a long-distance relationship, and that he’d only be gone six months. When those six months were up, he moved to Paris to start another nightclub. Then Sydney. I lost track of his movements after Dubai. It hurt too much, seeing that he always had a different woman hanging off him in the photos of every opening.

  He not only broke my heart, he made it impossible to have another relationship because no one measured up to him.

  “I’ve got to get home and prepare for work tomorrow,” Marla said.

  “Me too. I really want to do my best in my new role,” Abbie said.

  “Oh man, it’s only six-thirty. I need you guys, this thirty thing was fine yesterday when I was still twenty-nine, but today is a whole new story.”

  “I’ll stay out with you, Jenny. We can party the night away, unlike these two career-focused fools,” Sam said. You could always count on Sam.

  “Hey, may I remind you I’m your boss now?” Abbie said to her.

  “Damn, I should have waited until you left to say that, shouldn’t I?”

  “I don’t care how hungover you come into work tomorrow, just be prepared for me to put you to work.”

  “Whatever,” Sam stuck her tongue out at Abbie. Who knows what went on in that company they worked for.

  “Okay, sweet cheeks, we have to get home. I have this real hard-ass boss and I know she’s going to bust my balls in the morning,” Sam downed the last of her wine.

  “But there’s still some wine left,” I lifted the bottle to pour more into Sam’s glass but she put her hand over it, blocking my attempt.

  “It’s all yours. As fun as it’s been, it’s Sunday. I’m surprised someone of your advanced age isn’t already home in bed,” Marla said.

  The three hugged me goodbye and shoved me in a cab with the bottle of wine. Their last birthday gift to me: a comfortable ride home. Though I wasn’t at all looking forward to going home to my empty apartment.

  * * *

  I made myself comfortable on my cream sofa, my laptop opened on my knee and a glass of wine in my hand.

  In my desperation to find myself in a serious relationship, I’d signed up for a local dating site, Chicagodates.com. Eager to check my profile to see the hordes of men who’d contacted me wanting to marry me, I bypassed checking my email and my Facebook and logged straight into it.

  My heart sank when I saw exactly zero messages in my inbox, and I took a big gulp of wine just as my phone started to ring

  This sucked. No one on the internet was interested in me. Clearly my profile needed work.

  “Hello?” I said, lifting the receiver to my ear.

  “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

  “Thanks, Mom. How are you feeling?”

  “Let’s not talk about me right now. This is your birthday. I can’t believe my baby is thirty.” That was code. She wasn’t doing well. Her cancer was so aggressive that even after treatment, the doctors only gave her two years, max. But with a healthy diet and some natural therapies, my dad and I hoped to have her around for much longer. It killed me enough that I was in Chicago and she was in Maine. I should have been visiting and spending as much time with her as I could before it was too late.

  “I know, right? I’m old.”

  “You’re not old. Well, maybe too old not to have found somebody yet, but there’s still some hope for you.” Here we go. She was desperate for a grandchild, and as her only child that all fell on me. Why did she do this to me? I hated the thought of losing her before she had the chance to hold a grandbaby in her arms, but I wasn’t about to rush out and get knocked up just to make that happen. Unless, of course, I found someone on Chicagodates.com.

  “Thanks, Mom, I appreciate that.” We chatted a little longer and, torn between love and annoyance, annoyance finally won over and I ended the call.

  * * *

  I dumped the remainder of the bottle of wine into my glass. It was never my plan to come home and get drunk alone. Especially on a Sunday night. It just kind of happened. After seeing that I didn’t get any messages on Chicagodates.com, and the conversation with my mother and her hints at wanting a grandchild before she dies, I needed another drink. And another, and another.

  Thirty. Time to stop messing around and settle down. I poured a tequila shot, paused, stared at it wondering what the fuck I was doing pouring a tequila shot alone at home on a Sunday, and downed it.

  My eyes phased out of focus at the computer screen as I scrolled through the hundredth male profile on Chicagodates.com. I couldn’t help but compare them to everyone I’d dated in the past.

  Before long, I was reflecting on all the men I’d ever dated, trying to figure out if any of them would have been marriage material if I hadn’t dumped them. But my mind kept going back to one ex-boyfriend: Collin.

  No boyfriend had ever lived up to his standard. Was that because he was my first real boyfriend and first boyfriends were always special? Or was it because our three-year relationship never officially ended, only… fizzled out? What would’ve happened if he’d never moved to London? I’m sure we would still be together now. My mother might even have that grandchild she was so desperate for.

  Instead we hadn’t seen each other in seven years. We’d kept in contact by phone at first, which quickly moved to email and then to nothing. He’s not even on my Facebook. The last contact I had with him was six years ago, a brief note from him saying he was leaving Paris to open a nightclub in Sydney.

  In order to get over the hurt, I stopped Googling him long ago.

  It was impossible to resist knowing what he was up to now. I typed Collin O’Keefe in the search bar, skimmed over what popped up, and choked on my wine.

  * * *

  When I was just about over my eye-watering coughing fit, I look
ed again at what had caused it.

  ‘Chicago’s own Collin O’Keefe is back in town to open Luscious, the latest project in his worldwide nightclub empire. We talked to him about how he built a multi-billion-dollar empire and what he hopes to achieve in his native city.’

  My breath had quickened to such a rate that I was on the verge of hyperventilating. I downed the last of the wine to steady myself and try to understand my feelings.

  I couldn’t bring myself to read the rest of the article, instead I clicked on Google images to look at his face. His gorgeous face with his possessive eyes that could hold a woman captive jumped out at me. Even if he was just a memory to me.

  * * *

  “Let me in!” I tried to push past the mountain of a man but I wasn’t getting anywhere. He put his hands on my upper arms.

  “Lady, you’re drunk. You can’t come in.”

  “I am not drunk.” I’d only had a bottle of wine and four tequila shots. I wasn’t that drunk.

  “Listen to you, you can’t even speak clearly.”

  “I need to see Collin!” I tried to shake him off me, with no luck. The man was simply too big.

  “Collin? Who?”

  “Collin O’Keefe! Tell him I’m here to see him.”

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Jenny. Tell him his Jenny is here for him.”

  Another massive man came over and they spoke to each other, but in low voices and I couldn’t hear them.

  “Let me see him!” My hand flew to my throat to soothe it after the scream had ripped it raw.

  “I’ll tell Blake. You, wait here,” he said, holding me on the spot. Good, I was finally getting somewhere. ‘Wait’ is much better than ‘get lost’.

  “Why do all bouncers have shaved heads?”

  “Wait quietly.”

  “No, seriously. Is that like a uniform code? Is there an initiation ceremony when they all gather round and shave it for the first time?”

  “I said be quiet.” The cold look in his eyes unnerved me into silence. I wished Sam was there. She would have gotten the answer.

  The second bouncer appeared with another man. A man who dwarfed the other two bouncers altogether.

  “Follow me,” he said, not touching me but pointing the way.

  The first bouncer let go of me and I gave him my snarliest look. I stumbled after the behemoth of a man. At the entrance to Luscious, I tripped and had to grasp at him to stop from falling.

  With an unexpectedly gentle touch, he took me by the arm and led me down a private hallway and up a private set of stairs. We stopped outside a doorway and he knocked.

  “Come.”

  The giant opened the door and stood aside to let me by, then closed the door behind me.

  “Thanks, Blake,” Collin said to him, his rich voice singing in my ears.

  “Collin,” My voice hitched in my throat as I tried to get the word out. Even after all these years, he was just as hot as I remembered. Better, even. A rugged man instead of the youthful twenty-three-year old I’d known.

  I’d had an entire speech planned out to give him, but all the words vanished the second his eyes met mine.

  Collin

  Fuck me. After all these years, Jenny turns up out of the blue. I rushed over to her, put my arm around her to guide her drunken ass to my office’s sofa. She shivered when I touched her, something I felt too.

  Even in her disheveled state she was just as beautiful as I remember. How did our relationship wither away? It was my own stupidity for leaving the country in the first place, but I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to co-own the London nightclub Ravish.

  I threw myself into my work to forget about her and it turned out my dedication and work ethic made the club a ridiculous success. After that, things snowballed and I went from city to city, opening more clubs and making more money. Now I’m sitting on a billion-dollar empire owned solely by me.

  Chicago finally called me home, for a lot of reasons, including Jenny. I had only been here a month; I wanted to get my head in a better place before contacting her. But there she was, in the flesh.

  “Kiss me,” she said, turning her face towards me and begging for my lips. Just seeing those juicy lips puckering for me, the lips I’ve thought about while fucking so many other women over the years, makes me want to throw her on the couch and fuck her senseless.

  “Babe, you’re drunk. You need to sleep it off.”

  She flung her arms around my neck and pulled herself into me. I was helpless to resist. I pulled her into me and gave her a hug, her tits pressing into my chest and making my dick twitch. Hard plastic dug into my chest. I guessed I had found where she carried her phone, but I wasn’t about to fish it out of her bra.

  “I’ve missed you,” she said, her words slurred.

  “Me too. Now let’s get you home. Where do you live?”

  “Chicago.”

  “Where in Chicago?”

  “In an apartment.”

  “Baby, you’re not making this easy.”

  “I’m making this very easy. Now kiss me.”

  She stared straight into my eyes as she begged me to kiss her. I’m used to women, drunk and sober, begging me to fuck them. But even glassy, her eyes suck mine in and threaten to leave me weak.

  I’m instantly transported back to the last time I saw her face to face. Seven years ago, at O’Hare International. I was boarding a plane to London and she stuck with me right up to the security line. Her eyes were glassy then too, from crying at my departure.

  Turning my back on her and walking deeper into the airport was the most gut-wrenching decision I’ve ever made. Even if I did get filthy rich as a result. I wanted to pull her to me then and kiss her, just as I wanted to now.

  But I couldn’t take advantage of her like this, even if she was begging me for it.

  “Where’s your purse?” I would find the address on her driver’s license.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know. Did you lose it?”

  “Dunno.” Jenny ran her hands over my back to my shoulders and down my sides until she came to my waistband. She tried to shove her fingers between it and my skin.

  “Easy,” I grabbed her hand but she fought me. I always loved how she stood up to me. Not like all the yes mister rich guy, whatever you want, mister rich guy women I get in my life now.

  “Collin,” My voice on her lips is about the most erotic thing I’ve heard in seven years and my dick grows from a semi straight into a full-on raging hard-on.

  “You’re telling me you have no wallet and no phone?”

  “Yep,” She smirks at me, daring me for my next move.

  “In that case I guess I have no option. You’re coming home with me.”

  Jenny

  Again. Hold on, I was naked. I fought the fog to figure out what happened last night. Wine. Tequila. Shit, arguing with a bouncer. Collin. My cheeks burned in anger at myself. I’d never done anything so pathetic in my life.

  “Morning, babe.”

  My eyes snapped open. Reflexively, I yanked the cover up to my chin. Collin had walked into the room wearing only a pair of jeans, his dark hair still wet from a shower.

  His dark eyes burned into me, and I tried to drag my eyes away from the Celtic knot tattoo that covered part of his muscular chest for long enough to meet them. He hadn’t had that tattoo seven years ago.

  When I did meet his eyes, a massive tingle rushed down my spine and for a moment I was speechless. The same way I’d been left speechless when he turned and walked into the airport, when he’d left me all those years ago.

  “I, um, sorry. I was drunk.”

  Collin laughed. “You were very drunk.”

  “What time is it?” I glanced around the plush yet sterile bedroom, trying to get my bearings.

  “Ten.”

  “Ten!” I sat up, pulling the cover with me. I was supposed to be at work. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “You’
re welcome for bringing you home safely and letting your drunken ass sleep it off.”

  * * *

  His comment barely registered. I was too busy yanking the cover from the bed to wrap it around me while I looked for my phone. My clothes were neatly piled on a silver armchair, my phone sitting on top of them.

  I picked it up and opened my email, but the action caused the duvet to slip and expose my right breast. My elbow rammed against it, in a futile effort to keep it from slipping further.

  Before I could hitch it up, Collin’s dark eyes pierced into mine and a jolt of electricity rocketed through me. From his recoil, I suspected he felt it too. Without letting go of my gaze, he took two steps towards me and his hand tentatively hovered a few inches from my exposed breast.

  Keeping our eye contact, I did nothing to stop him and his hand brushed against me. It pushed up over my shoulder to my back. He drew me against him, my breast still exposed but my other hand still hitching up the cover.

  The closeness of his embrace, his clean scent, his bare skin against my breast mingled together and turned my insides to bubbling lava.

  “Why are my clothes here?”

  “Because I picked them up off the floor after the striptease you insisted on doing last night.” My face burned with shame and anger at myself. I cringed at the thought of how I must’ve acted the night before.

  “I have to email work that I’ll be late.”

  “Do you have to rush off? It’s been so long. We should catch up.” His smooth voice threatened to seduce me, but I tried to fight it. I tried not to notice his bulge digging into me, even though it sent heat coursing through me.

  “I’m serious, I have to go. I should never have gone to you last night.” My hand pushed against him, in a not very convincing attempt to extricate myself from his grasp, but he held on.

  Collin pulled me tighter against him and I wanted to melt into his body. To fall into the embrace I’d missed for so much over the past seven years. I couldn’t let myself though, I knew from the internet that he’d forgotten me for other women long ago.