The Rich List Series: Contemporary Romance Box Set (Millionaire, Billionaire, CEO)

by Hunter, Talia

  “I don’t like you working here alone.” His tone was harsh enough that her welcoming smile faded. “It’s not safe.” He crossed the floor in a few strides, fighting the urge to take her by the arms and make her promise to be less reckless.

  She laughed breathlessly as he drew close. “Funny, I could have sworn it only became dangerous in the last few seconds.” Her lips parted slightly as she gazed up at him, and he leaned forward to drag in her scent. It surged through him like pure sugar.

  He turned away abruptly. “Are you ready to work?” Striding to one of the shelving units in the middle of the floor, he rapped his knuckles against it. “It’s time to start changing things around. Starting with this. I’ll have it moved upstairs.”

  “Upstairs? There’s no room.”

  “There is if you get rid of the bed.”

  She stiffened. “But I need the…” Her objection trailed off. “Why are you putting it upstairs?” she asked instead.

  Damien shook his head impatiently. He wasn’t used to having to explain himself. When he made decisions, he told people what to do and they did it. No arguments, no fuss. It had been a long time since he was questioned, but he could hardly blame Geena. He should have started from the beginning and taken her through what he was trying to do.

  “Rosalind’s setting up a meeting with a web developer who’ll create an e-commerce site for you. You can heavily discount your poor sellers on the site and store the products upstairs in racks, ready to send out.” He gestured around her store, trying to help her see his vision for it. “Besides, this place will look more appealing once we’ve cut your inventory in half.”

  Her expression was still uncertain. “I know you said I should give people less choice, but if I take half my stock away, isn’t there a danger I’ll sell less than I do now?”

  He snorted. “You have no idea how much you sell.” Reaching out at random, he picked up a bright purple enema kit. When he’d collated the figures, some of the things that sold well in the store had surprised the hell out of him. Enema kits were one. You’d never convince him to push a hose up his rear end, but apparently it was a popular pastime. “This, for example. How many have you sold in the last month and when should you reorder?”

  Her cheeks flushed a delicious shade of pink that matched her hair. “I call up for more when there aren’t any left on the shelf.”

  “What if there’s a delay getting more and you’re out for several weeks? And if it’s your top selling item, and you lose customers over it?” He shook his head. “You have no stocktake procedure and your ordering is all over the place.”

  “So how should I be reordering things?”

  “Number five on the list I gave you yesterday.”

  She hesitated. “That was putting in a computerized point-of-sale system, right?”

  “It’s one of the things your loan should cover, and if you get a good system, it’ll solve a lot of your problems.” He put the enema kit back on the shelf. “Unfortunately, not all of them.”

  She lifted her chin. “So all you see are problems?”

  “No. You’re a great sales woman and that’s important. The store is friendly, and you’ve got a way of putting people at ease, even the shy ones who walk in with an expression like someone forced them in here with a gun to their head.”

  She considered him a moment, then her strawberry lips twitched up into a smile. “See, I knew you were nicer than you looked.”

  “Don’t get excited. I haven’t told you the bad stuff yet.”

  “That wasn’t the bad stuff?”

  She sucked in a breath as though she was bracing for the rest of it, and he almost softened. But if he didn’t give it to her straight, he wouldn’t be doing her any favors. She had to correct the problems before it was too late.

  “There’s no excuse for the kind of chaos I found upstairs. This isn’t a holiday camp where you choose to do the things you like and opt out of the rest. If you don’t start getting serious and treating the store like a business, you may as well close your doors right now.”

  She swallowed, the blush coming back to her cheeks. “I’m not good at paperwork. That doesn’t mean I’m not serious.”

  “At the very least, you have to continue filling in Rosalind’s spreadsheets. I’ll show you how to manage it properly and then it’ll be up to you to keep it organized so it never gets this bad again. If you don’t, you’d better find someone else to save you.”

  “I’ll keep on top of it from now on,” she promised.

  He motioned to the shelf where the cat was glaring at him with hate-filled yellow eyes. “And the cat can’t stay.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s a monster who could scratch one of your customers.”

  “Edward’s not a monster.” She strode over to the cat and stroked him. Sure enough, the beast purred.

  “Edward?”

  She shot him a defensive look. “Edward Scissor-claws. Because he was a little slashy when he first turned up a few weeks ago. He was mangy and hungry, and he’d obviously had a tough time. But he’s getting nicer by the day, aren’t you, Eddy-boy?”

  “It’s not professional to have a wild beast in the store.”

  “I think my customers like him. Besides, I had a mouse in my kitchen a while ago and Ally had to help me get rid of it. Edward will make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

  Damien shook his head. “If you won’t take my advice, I can’t help you.”

  She turned and put both hands on her hips. Her chin was tilted up and her eyes narrowed in that determined — no, stubborn — look he was coming to recognize. When she got that expression she was a force to be reckoned with. “He’s fine with the customers. Maybe it’s just you he doesn’t like.”

  “Seems nobody does,” said Damien dryly.

  Geena wrinkled her nose. “You’re right about that. You have a problem, and it’s obvious how to fix it.” She wagged her finger at him. “Now it’s my turn to give you the bad news. I spent some time watching every interview with you that I could find online.”

  “And?”

  “You’re blunt to the point of rudeness.”

  “I’m honest.”

  “You never smile.”

  “They never say anything funny.”

  “You come across as cold. No, that’s an understatement. You come across as hypothermic.”

  He raised one of his supposedly freezing eyebrows. “So?”

  “You need to practice your people skills.”

  “I don’t care about people.” His family and close friends were more than enough to worry about.

  She gave a loud sigh and an exaggerated shrug. “So fake it. If you want to get to build your entertainment center that is. Of course, if you’ve decided you don’t care…?” She cocked an eyebrow.

  He suppressed a smile, enjoying the way she could take what he dished out and serve it back. “I don’t remember interview advice being part of our deal.”

  “Let’s call it a bonus. I’m generous like that.”

  “You’re trying to distract my attention because you don’t like me criticizing the way you run your store.”

  “And you can’t admit you need to change, and it’s not something you can pay someone to do for you. You need to work on it yourself.”

  Damien waved his hand dismissively. He’d come here to fix her problems, not talk about his own. He indicated a set of shelves. “We may as well get started clearing some of these out. I’m also going to start up an email list for your customers, so you can market to them. And I’ll get my accountant to look over your books and check the size of that tax bill.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “A plan I expect you to follow, even after I’m gone. No more coasting along, expecting things to fall into place on their own. Nobody ever said running a business was easy.”

  “Got it, loud and clear.” She tilted her head. “But I’m not the only one who needs to change my ways. You won’t improve
your reputation unless you figure out how to play nice with others.”

  “I can play nice.”

  Her lips twitched up. “Prove it.”

  “How?”

  Her eyes glinted. “I’ll make you a deal. You change my store, and I change you.”

  “How will you do that?”

  “Two ways. Firstly, you said I’m good with people. I guess that comes from practice, from talking to a lot of folks, some of whom are embarrassed about what they’ve come in to buy and have to have the details coaxed out of them.”

  She scratched behind one of the cat’s torn ears and damn if the vicious tom didn’t roll over to have his stomach rubbed.

  “Secondly, you have a problem with the way you look.” She shook her head. “What on earth are you wearing today?”

  He looked down at his business suit, startled. “I have an interview this afternoon, so I can’t exactly wear jeans.”

  “It’s no wonder you’re so unpopular when you wear a tie like that.”

  “What’s wrong with my tie?”

  She reached out and tugged it. “It’s ugly and boring. It says zero about who you are. It could have been chosen by a stranger who’d never met you.”

  “My stylist buys my clothes. She’s definitely met me.”

  Geena made a dismissive sound. “She’s playing it safe, afraid of buying something you don’t like. Either that, or she’s eighty years old and thinks a solid blue tie will make you look dependable.”

  “She’s in her fifties, and very efficient.”

  “And don’t get me started on that shirt.”

  “It’s Italian.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You want to dress my shop to project an image, yet you dress yourself so impersonally. People want to see a little warmth and personality.”

  “So, you’re saying I should wear something to get noticed.” He pulled a pair of ass-less chaps off a rack by the counter and held them up. “Something like this?”

  She chuckled. “Put them on and I’ll tell you how they look.”

  He forced himself to keep a straight face as he threw the chaps back over the rack. “They’ve got to go.”

  She walked over and fumbled with the knot of his tie. Her face was tilted up to his, her lips tantalizingly close. “Then this ugly thing goes too.”

  He breathed in her scent, fighting the lust that surged through him. Damn that inconvenient chemistry. He couldn’t be this close and not burn to tear her tight dress off. The memory of yesterday’s almost-kiss shuddered through him, making him instantly hard.

  She drew off his tie and stepped back with it held up between thumb and forefinger like something disgusting she hated to touch. “Shall I burn it?”

  He clenched his jaw, regaining control of himself as her scent faded. Keep it professional. “I have other ties.”

  “Say no more. They’re probably all hideous. What time’s your interview?”

  “Two.”

  “Then I’d better buy you a decent one.” Opening a cupboard under the counter, she pulled out her handbag. “I won’t be long. There’s a place around the corner.”

  “Now?”

  “If I get this out of the way, we can concentrate on the store until you have to leave.” She held up one hand. “And don’t suggest you just do the interview in that awful one you had on. Your reputation’s bad enough.”

  She was impossible. “Have you forgotten you’re open for business?” He motioned to the unlocked door, which no customer had yet come through.

  “Either you stay here and look after things while I go buy you a tie, or I can close for half an hour.”

  “Are you always this impulsive?”

  “Are you always this boring?” She threw her handbag over her shoulder and strode to the door, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. “Anyone comes in, be a love and sell them something.”

  “Geena, I’m not your sales assistant.”

  She turned at the door. “You need to work on your people skills, remember? This is the perfect opportunity, and it’ll be good for you. Just try not to bite.”

  The door closed behind her before he could protest. What the hell was she doing? In her financial state, the last thing she needed was to spend money on something for him, especially if she put it on one of her already over-stretched credit cards. He let out a sigh of exasperation.

  Still, it was an incredibly generous gesture. How long had it been since a woman had bought him something, instead of the other way around? It made him feel... He drew in a breath. Dammit, it made him feel exactly like he shouldn’t.

  “Impulsive,” he muttered. “Gets an idea in her mind and acts on it without a second’s thought. Just the kind of woman I don’t want in my life.”

  Shaking his head, Damien strode to the doorway so he could check she was safe. She walked briskly down the middle of the sidewalk, her high heels making her hips sway and her handbag swing. She walked as though she owned the street, as though nobody could possibly do her any harm, and Damien gritted his teeth as she strode up to an old homeless man crouched in an alcove. She pulled her purse out of her handbag, snapped it open, and handed him some change.

  If they said something, Damien couldn’t hear it. And from his spot in the doorway, he couldn’t see the old man’s expression. But he did see Scarface, the guy who’d growled at him earlier. Scarface stared at Geena from across the street, a calculating look in his narrow eyes. Was he checking out her ass, trying to see how much money was in her purse, or wondering how easy it would be to take the handbag away from her? All of those options made Damien clench his fists. Dammit, Cilla, why can’t you be more cautious? Then he caught himself. Not Cilla, Geena. But Geena was as oblivious of danger as Cilla had been, and that made him want to storm down there and beat Scarface to a pulp.

  Damien watched her until she’d finally rounded the corner. He stayed where he was even after she’d disappeared, taking deep breaths, waiting for his frustration and rage to die away. He’d promised himself he’d never again care more about a woman’s safety than she did. And he hated the way he could feel that promise dissolving.

  7

  Geena pushed the door open and froze, gaping. Her store was in an uproar. Large boxes placed next to nearly-empty shelves were overflowing with stock. A strange man was bent over, fiddling with something underneath the store counter. Another was in a corner, setting up a ladder. Then she saw Damien next to the clothing racks. He tugged out a sexy sailor costume, looked it up and down, then threw it into a box.

  Geena strode over to him. “What’s going on?” She gestured at the two men, aware her voice was rising. “What are they doing?”

  “Installing a proper alarm system.” He pulled a pair of crotchless leather leggings from the rack and frowned at them.

  “I already have an alarm.”

  He snorted. “Cheap and nasty. This one includes cameras, and it’s monitored by a reputable firm who can guarantee a quick response time.”

  “I can’t afford—”

  “You can’t afford not to get a decent system.” He dropped the leggings into the box. “It’s non-negotiable. I’ll take it out of the money you paid at the auction to have lunch with me.”

  She blew out an exasperated breath and put her hands on her hips. “That money went to charity, remember? Seriously, how much is this going to cost? If I can’t pay my tax bill and have to close down, I’ll have no use for an expensive alarm system.”

  “Then consider it a gift. If something happens you need a way to get help fast.”

  “You seem to think this is a dangerous neighborhood. It’s not so bad. Besides, I took self-defense classes so I can take care of myself.”

  “You really believe that’s enough to keep you safe?” He clenched his jaw and a muscle pulsed in his neck. “It’s public knowledge that my best friend’s sister was killed in the Kingston, not six blocks from here.”

  “I’m sorry.” Geena hesitated, wanting to ask if he regretted flouting
the law and tearing down the building. Why had it been so important to him to get rid of the Kingston anyway? Everyone knew his friend’s sister had gone there to buy drugs. Destroying the building hadn’t changed that. Or maybe he’d simply thought the law – and all the protesters – were so unimportant he didn’t need to pay them any attention?

  But she couldn’t ask. Not when he was glowering at her like that. Instead she cast one last look at the two men who were now stringing wires inside her ceiling and changed the subject. “What are you doing anyway? You’ve put most of my stock into boxes.”

  He took a breath, his expression slowly relaxing. “This is everything that has to go.”

  “You didn’t even know what a bullet was. Are you sure about what you’re taking away?”

  He held up a mermaid cosplay outfit and quirked one eyebrow.

  “Okay, so that one’s a little out there,” she admitted. “But how do you know the next person who walks in won’t be looking for something a bit different to spice up their sex life?”

  On cue, the door buzzed and a customer walked in. They both looked over expectantly, and a very butch man wearing a leather waistcoat, leather pants, and a lot of tattoos frowned back at them. Geena sighed. Was the whole universe against her?

  “You obviously haven’t reviewed Rosalind’s list of your best-selling items.” Damien dropped the costume into the box. “It may come as a shock, but fish tails didn’t make the grade.”

  She pulled a face. As beautiful as the shimmering scales on the outfit were, she supposed he had a point. But it was a little heartbreaking to see all the stock she’d chosen get tossed.

  To distract herself, she walked over to the butch guy. “Can I help you?”

  “Just looking for some lube.”

  She bagged some for him, rang up the sale, and watched him walk out. Then she turned back to Damien. “Anyone come in while I was away?”

  “A group of guys bought a blow-up doll, a penis enlarger, and a DVD called Muffy the Vampire Layer. They thought it was hilarious.”