Billionaires Runaway Bride (A Standalone British Billionaire Romance Novel)

by Claire Adams

  “A lot of our clients at work are this rich. That’s why it’s called Dating the Rich, Mattie,” I laughed.

  “Technically, I know that, but it’s always an abstract thing since I’m just on the phones for customer service issues. Really, most of my conversations are with ditzy girls who are trying to set up their profiles and can’t figure out how to upload their scantily-clad photos. It’s odd to me that these girls end up landing the rich guys. I mean, come on, do they have no shame, at all? These guys are actually just looking for a piece of ass.”

  “Yep, that’s basically what we do. Hook up old, rich men with beautiful, young women who want their money,” I said, and we both busted into laughter.

  The dating criteria some of the men from our website had seemed a little ridiculous. Many of them were simply looking for a pretty girl to show off and didn’t actually care if she was smart, career oriented, or had any goals in her life. There were some guys who seemed to be looking for a real partner and love match, but they were much fewer than the other type of guys.

  “Excuse me, ladies,” a young man said as he walked past us to put a sold magnet over the placard for the painting we were looking at.

  “It sold? I can’t believe that,” Mattie exclaimed.

  “Yep, we only have a couple paintings left; they are over there, if you’re interested.”

  “Okay, thanks,” she replied as she tried to play off her shock as being upset because she was just about to buy it. I could hardly contain my laughter and turned away so the worker couldn’t see me. “I’ll go take a look. Thank you so much.”

  “Hey, doll face,” the handsome Brooklyn man said as I turned almost directly into his chest. If I hadn’t stopped quickly, I would have run smack dab into him.

  I had to admit the firmness of his chest was very appealing. It had been months since I had been laid, and although that wasn’t a driving factor in choosing a date, I was starting to consider the benefits of a one-night stand with this guy. With a babysitter in place and a whole evening to myself, it did seem like a waste not to at least have some sex.

  “Are you enjoying the art show?” I asked in an effort to test the waters and see if I could handle an evening with him.

  If I wasn’t looking for a guy to actually date, I could settle for someone a little less than perfect. This guy was handsome. He would probably be fun in bed. I started to play over the possibility of bringing him home with me, but first, I’d have to at least have a full conversation with the guy.

  That was my problem when it came to one-night stands. I had this crazy notion in my head that they needed to be able to hold a conversation. It was certainly a woman-type of criteria for a one-night stand; I doubted guys worried if their women could hold a conversation before they brought them home for a night full of fun.

  “Sure, man, this is on point. I love art shit.”

  “Will you be buying any of the pieces?” I ventured to guess he wasn’t wealthy enough to purchase one of the paintings, but you never knew what someone had in their wallet.

  Money wasn’t all that important to me, though. I didn’t plan on settling down with any man in the near future, so I was only asking as a form of reference to see why this guy was at the art show. If he was there to purchase something, at least I’d know we had art in common.

  “Yeah, I might,” he said unconvincingly. “You think I should buy some of this painting crap?”

  That was it: I couldn’t pretend to like this guy long enough to sleep with him. I could hardly stand having a conversation with him. This was exactly why my life as a one-night stand type of woman was so limited. I couldn’t sleep with someone I didn’t at least like, even if it was only going to be for one night.

  “Well, I need to get back to my friends. It was nice talking to you. If you’re interested, I work at a high-end dating site and they are always looking for good-looking guys to join. Here’s a card,” I said, as I started to turn back to my friends.

  “Hey, don’t leave yet,” he said as he grabbed my arm.

  I turned back slowly and looked down at my arm and then up to him. My mouth pressed tightly in anger, and I waited to see if he would let go on his own or if I was going to have to punch him in the face. I really had no qualms about punching the guy right there, in front of everyone.

  Guys who grabbed women like he did didn’t deserve the time of day. There wasn’t an excuse for it. Sure, I understood if a guy gently took my arm to get my attention; there was a difference, though. A guy who was just trying to get your attention was soft, gentle, and let go when you turned around. This guy had not gotten the memo on how to treat a woman – that was very clear.

  “Sorry, babe, I just wanted to talk some more. Don’t be such a bitch about it.”

  “Not going to happen,” I said as I tried to control my anger and not get too noisy in the middle of the crowded room. “Now, are you going to let go of my arm?”

  “Um, yeah, sorry, darling,” he said. “No harm, no foul.”

  “Don’t touch a woman like this again. It’s not okay. Do you understand?”

  “Whatever,” he said as he stormed off.

  As I turned back to my friends, an inkling of misery flashed through my mind. I certainly wouldn’t be having a night full of unadulterated sex. My prospects were getting slimmer and slimmer as I got older; now I understood why some women ended up being single all their life.

  Once you passed that age where you were willing to compromise, you moved into an era where you were self-sufficient and lame guys just weren’t needed. I was definitely self-sufficient, and as good as an orgasm sounded, I wasn’t that desperate for one.

  “Another drink?” Markus asked Mattie and me.

  “Yep, keep them coming. No reason to turn down some free liquor. Plus, if I get a few more in me, maybe I’ll be able to get the rest of these referral cards handed out,” I said as I held out a stack of a dozen cards.

  “Del, seriously! Are you really going to hand all those out?”

  “Yep, we get a five-hundred-dollar bonus for anyone who signs up with our referral. I could really use the money. There never seems to be enough.”

  “Isn’t the house paid for, after…you…know? I mean…”

  “Yes, Mattie. After Spencer died, I used the life insurance to pay off the house, and I still had a decent amount left. But it’s been four years and we have dwindled the remaining money away. Luckily, I get paid a decent salary or we wouldn’t be able to keep the house. I pay two thousand dollars a month just for taxes and insurance; there’s no way I would have been able to stay there if we had a mortgage payment.”

  “I’m glad you guys got to keep the house. That’s an important part of stability for Connor,” Mattie said in one of her brief, real moments of talk about my life after the death of my husband. “Should we go find Markus? I think he’s lost.”

  “Sure, let’s go over to the bar in the front. There was a pretty bartender there,” I laughed.

  As much as I loved Mattie, I didn’t really like her boyfriend Markus much at all. I knew we were going to find him talking to some pretty girl and it would break Mattie’s heart. I’d urged her to leave him so many times, though, that it wasn’t even funny anymore.

  “Hey, he only cheated once; he’s not going to do it again,” Mattie said. “We’ve talked about it.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. I was only joking. I’m sure there is just a big line,” I said, although I didn’t think that, at all.

  Sure enough, as we strolled over to the bar, there was Markus chatting up the model look-a-like redhead who was talking way more than she was making drinks. My heart sank at the idea that Mattie was staying with this guy. Of course, I couldn’t tell her to leave her boyfriend anymore; I could only hope that someday she’d be confident enough to be alone.

  So many people told me I was strong for being a single mom. I never really thought of myself as strong. You just did what you had to do in situations where you had to step up. What were m
y other options? Sulk away and give up on parenting my son? Obviously, I wasn’t going to do that.

  Sure, times had been really rough right after my husband’s car accident. I had been home on extended maternity leave and to be honest, wasn’t planning on going back to work. Dating the Rich was a new company, and I worked as a secretary straight out of college. I had only worked there a few months when I got pregnant, and as soon as I had Connor, I knew I wanted to stay home with him. Luckily, Spencer was agreeable to my plan.

  But everything changed one warm July night. Spencer had been driving home to Los Angeles from San Francisco. He had stayed late to help a client, and from the accident report, it sounded like he had fallen asleep at the wheel before he drove off the road.

  Nothing could have prepared me for being a single mother and I certainly hadn’t ever thought I would have to be one. It was harder than I could have imagined, not having another adult around to help out with the day-to-day things.

  I certainly couldn’t imagine what Mattie would have to deal with if she stayed with Markus and got married like they were planning. Nope, I wasn’t planning on getting married anytime soon – if ever again. I was accustomed to my single life, and it suited me just fine.

  “Don’t say a word,” Mattie said as we walked up to Markus. “You are one hell of a guy. You think I’m just going to keep dating you when you do stuff like this?”

  “Oh, babe, nothing was happening. I was just getting your drinks,” he said, yet he didn’t have a single drink in his hand.

  “I’m going to get going, Mattie; I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.

  “It’s okay, Del; we just need to talk for a second and then I’ll go look at the art with you,” Mattie said. “I’m sorry. It will just take a minute.”

  “No worries. I’m going to walk around. We can talk about it tomorrow at work,” I winked. “Take care of yourself.”

  Chapter Two

  Brandon

  “How on earth are you going to get that painting into your house?” Josh asked as we left the art show.

  “That’s a good question. I’m not sure. Maybe take the sliding glass doors off from the back deck?”

  “What I would give to be so rich that I could buy paintings that don’t fit through doors. You know, it is really odd that you would spend that much money on that. Is that a lot of money to you? I mean, I don’t think you and I have the same view of what a lot equals.”

  “Oh, come on, Josh, you know it’s a lot to me. Don’t you remember how I freaked out that first day you were teaching me how to trade stocks?” I laughed at the memory. “When I lost all my money on one trade because I was being stupid?”

  Joshua was a day trading expert and made his money at home while he followed the latest stock trends. I had managed to convince him to teach me privately, since day trading wasn’t exactly a class you could take, and I was getting bored.

  He was really good at what he did. We’d met a few years before at a friend’s party and I remember thinking that his job was the coolest. At the time, I was neck deep in my own company and working every waking moment. I traveled more than I was home and had just signed the paperwork for my divorce. Josh’s life seemed like paradise.

  He talked about waking up whenever he wanted and spending the day watching the news and sometimes buying stocks. Other days, he just took notes and didn’t buy anything at all. If I had known about stocks and investing when I was younger, I was sure I would have picked that as a career. It sounded interesting and much more fun than the manufacturing business I had been running.

  “Brandon, you just sold your business for, like, a billion dollars; losing five hundred dollars in a trade is nothing to you.”

  “Five hundred dollars is a lot of money,” I protested. “Just because I can replace it easily doesn’t mean I don’t value it.”

  “Maybe if you weren’t a billionaire, we could continue with this argument. For now, I think I’m going to claim that five hundred dollars isn’t a lot to you,” Josh laughed. “Where are we going now?” he asked as we loaded into an Uber.

  “I’d like to follow that hot blonde we saw back there, but since that isn’t an option, let’s find a club and chill for a bit.”

  “That girl looked like a real-life man eater,” Josh laughed. “Did you see how she looked at that guy when he grabbed her arm? I thought we might have to rescue him from her if he hadn’t let go when he did.”

  “He seemed like a chump, for sure.”

  The air was crisp for a summer night, much cooler than we were used to in Los Angeles, but probably not cold compared to what others in the country dealt with on a normal basis. Our driver zipped through the streets and pulled up in front of Avalon, a hip, new dance club.

  “Let me do the talking as we go in here. We don’t want a repeat of what happened last time,” I said as we made our way past the line to get inside.

  “Hey, I thought a tip would help.”

  “Tips are out. You have to know people to get into the clubs. Or at least, they have to know you. We don’t live in the two thousands anymore,” I stepped in front of Josh as we went straight up to the bouncer who guarded the front of the club.

  “Yeah, yeah. I think you could flash a smile and get us into any of these clubs. They’ll let you in just because you’re good looking. And if you show your identification, we’ll get a VIP table, for sure.”

  “That’s only because they want me to spend thousands of dollars. The clubs obviously don’t understand how frugal I am.”

  “Frugal,” Josh laughed. “Like the million dollars you just spent for a painting? Yep, that’s my friend. Frugal Brandon.” He made a dramatic motion with his arms as he pointed me out to the ladies in the line. “Hey, ladies, this is my millionaire friend Frugal Brandon; come find him when you get inside.”

  “Very funny – and technically, I’m a billionaire now.”

  Josh continued to laugh as we made our way in and the owner placed us at a VIP table. Although I wasn’t interested in spending a ton of money, I couldn’t exactly turn down the best table in the house. At least a nice VIP spot was helpful in getting the ladies to come visit with us so we didn’t have to roam the dance floor looking for them.

  Despite spending so much money on the painting, I really didn’t like spending money all that much. Only when something was really important to me did I fork out enormous amounts of money, otherwise I felt like I lived a pretty normal life. Okay, maybe not a “normal” life like other people would live, but I wasn’t out buying Ferraris or taking private jets each weekend. When I flew on a private jet, it was through my JetCard, and only for very special occasions.

  “It was a really expensive painting. But I get if it was important to you and you wanted it, that’s cool. It’s your money, man.”

  “Like I said in the gallery, it reminds me of my son.”

  “I’m sorry; I was just joking. It’s got to be hard not having him around.”

  “Well, let’s get this conversation out of our sadness hole and onto the hot ladies in the club,” I quickly said as I felt myself getting choked up.

  My son Noah had passed away from cancer. It was the hardest thing I had ever gone through and had destroyed my marriage, too. Sometimes people talked about how horrible my life was since I had lost my only child and ended up divorced from my wife. I liked to think of my life as being pretty damn lucky, though.

  Within a ten-year time frame, I had met and married the woman of my dreams and had the most amazing child ever. I was lucky enough to spend eight years with him in my life and I learned so much about myself as a person. Not only did I learn what true love really was, but I also learned how to prioritize the things that were really important in life. Many people went their entire life without truly being able to see the gifts they had in front of them; my tragedy had certainly given me a clearer vision for my future.

  Rose, my ex-wife, and I actually still got along very well. We mutually came to the understanding that w
e couldn’t stay together and both needed to move forward. Our marriage didn’t end with someone cheating or a huge blow out of a fight. Although I had started talking to another woman, and Rose believed I might have been cheating on her. I hadn’t cheated and I would never have done something like that to her. We simple made the conscious decision that we both wanted a fresh start.

  Rose recently found her fresh start with Carlos, an ex-military special ops guy. He was a decent enough guy from what I could tell, although there always seemed to be just a little something off about him when I was around.

  “Those two right there?” Josh asked as he pointed at two very scantily-clad young ladies, bringing my mind back to the present.

  “Sure, go get them and bring them up.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  “Don’t call me that. You know I’m not really your boss, right?”

  “Technically, you pay me each month to teach you about stock trading. I think that qualifies you as my boss. Don’t worry, I’m telling the girls we are in business together; it sounds way cooler than being a lonely day trader.”

  Josh made his way over to the girls and started to talk to them. I was able to see them for a while, but the club was so dark that I soon lost them in the crowd. Being left alone in the VIP section was too lame for me, though, so I made my way across the crowded dance floor looking for Josh when he didn’t return after fifteen minutes.

  “That’s a kick ass dress,” I said to a young blonde as I passed her.

  “Thanks. I’m Kendra,” she quickly replied and leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. “Dance?”

  As much as I hated to dance, I certainly wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity to see her sweet curves move in the tight white dress she had on. My eyes quickly surveyed the outfit and my body reacted with desire. The throbbing in my center had me wanting this girl in my bed for the evening.

  Picking up women was how I coped. I had spent a couple of years in therapy talking all about it. But I didn’t see the problem with how I was coping. I was an adult, they were adults, and having fun seemed like a very good way of coping with all that I had been through.