The Billionairess
Page 1
Table of Contents
Epilogue
Free Novella!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Love sweet romance? Don’t miss The Pet Set Duet!
About the Author
The Billionairess
The Broke Billionaires Club Series
Ann Omasta
Contents
Free Novella!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Love sweet romance? Don’t miss The Pet Set Duet!
About the Author
Free Novella!
Escape into the enchanting Hawaiian Islands by reading Leilani's heartwarming tale of friendship, love, and triumph after heartbreak.
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1
“Dammit!” Selena Chase screeched as she threw her stapler––the closest thing she could find––across the room.
Her assistant, Todd, poked his head in. He was the only one brave enough to deal with her when she was in a tizzy. The stapler barely missed him as it whizzed past his ear and crashed into the wall. “I’ll come back when you’re done throwing office supplies.” He pursed his lips and raised one perfectly shaped brow at her, knowing his signature look would work.
“No, I’m sorry. I had already thrown it when I saw you. I wasn’t trying to hit you.” Her anger had deflated, so she flopped down into her chair and buried her face in her hands. “How could this happen?” she wailed down at her gleaming mahogany desk.
“How could what happen, Babydoll?” Todd came in and plopped one side of his skinny butt on the edge of her desk. Somehow, he always seemed to know exactly what he could get away with and precisely what she needed to hear. If any other man would have ever dared to call her ‘Babydoll,’ she would have put him in his rightful place, but from Todd it made her feel like he cared.
Besides, he would never call her that in public or when they were working. This was a personal moment, and she liked how he automatically shifted his behavior according to her mood.
“We lost the mall deal,” she spluttered, the tears starting to fall, “to Don… Don… Donovan Enterprises.” She dragged the last word out as her uncontrollable crying began. She had always wished to be one of those dainty criers who could dab at her tears and look fine a few minutes later, but that was not in the cards for her. She rarely broke down in tears, but when she did, there was only one word for it… ugly.
“I’ve always found it’s best to rip the bandage off all at once, so I suppose this is the best time to tell you that Twitter is blowing up with the news that Trevor Donovan is getting a key to the city.”
“What?... Whyyyy?” She knew the last question sounded incredibly whiny, but she wasn’t in control of her emotions at the moment.
“Apparently, he saved a goose, or some such nonsense.” Todd waved his hand, letting her know he thought the accolade was ridiculous.
“A goose?!?” she spluttered. “How the hell does he have time to save a stupid bird when he’s busy stealing deals from me?”
Her assistant didn’t have an answer for her, so he simply shook his head. She hiccup-sobbed at the additional news about her business rival.
Todd pretended not to notice that her face was a crumpled, red mess as he withdrew a monogrammed handkerchief from his tailored, silver pinstriped suit pocket. She had to give him props for only cringing a little when she loudly blew her nose into it. When she tried to hand it back, it was too much for him, though. He held up a hand and jumped back as if it might bite him. “Keep it,” he said with a barely disguised shudder.
She laughed, through her tears. Todd was the biggest germophobe she knew, so his reaction was to be expected. He still cracked her up, though. “I’ll have it washed and return it,” she offered as she swiped the black mascara streaks from under her eyes.
He didn’t even bother to attempt to hide his disgust. “Just throw it out,” he finally suggested before adding on a whim, “It’s dead to me now.”
She couldn’t help but giggle at him. “No one can cheer me up like you can,” she admitted when her laughter subsided.
“That’s because no one else is dumb enough to risk getting a tape dispenser to the head to come in and comfort you.”
She hated it that her temper sometimes got the best of her. It was something she was working to learn to control, but obviously wasn’t yet succeeding. “I’m really sorry I almost hit you,” she told him sincerely before adding, “But it was actually a stapler.” At his shrug, she turned serious again. “You’re my only friend.”
“Well, then, you need to get out more,” her assistant teased her before pulling her in for a warm hug and flouncing out of the room.
“Isn’t that the truth?” She sat back in her chair and looked out over her surroundings to take stock of her situation.
Her office was massive and elegantly furnished. She was one of the most powerful and wealthy women in the world. It was a fact she was very proud of because she had worked damn hard for everything she had. She had earned it. The pesky Donovan brothers had just stolen a deal right out from under her that she had worked for months to secure. She would get even with them for that. Her only friend in the world was her gay assistant. Her love life was non-existent and had been for longer than she cared to admit. Oh, and her cat, Mr. Whiskers, had peed in her favorite pumps this morning.
“Isn’t life grand?” She spun her chair around as she said the words to her empty office. “I’ve worked my entire life for all of this.” She waved her arms out at her surroundings, uncertain who she was talking to, but feeling compelled to continue. “I guess there are some things that money just can’t buy,” she finished sadly before strolling over to her bar to pour a stiff drink.
2
“How could you?!?” Selena seethed into the phone. She could feel her teeth grinding together and knew that meant she would have a killer migraine later. Despite being aware that she would pay for it this evening, she couldn’t stop the waves of tension from pulsing through her jaw.
“It was for your own good,” Grant Wiltshire, Selena’s mentor and father figure assured her. “You’ve been working too hard, and this deal would have added to your already sky-rocketing stress and workload.”
She pictured the older, stately gentleman with his snow-white hair and alert blue eyes leaning back in his desk chair as he tried to calm her. The vision of him only served to fuel her anger. “Why is that for you to decide?” She countered. “I’ve spent months on this deal and now, thanks to you, that time was wasted. Donovan Enterprises swooped in and stole the deal right out from under me. Again.”
Selena pressed her fingers to her forehead, where the impendi
ng migraine was already beginning to throb behind her eyebrows. She pulled up her instant messaging window and fired off a message to Todd to bring her headache medicine and water.
Todd flitted into the room with her pills and a bottle of chilled water, as if he had been standing right outside her office waiting for her request. She nodded in acknowledgement, swallowed the medication, and watched Todd disappear as quickly and unobtrusively as he had entered.
“That mall deal is going to take a lot of hands-on monitoring and more time and effort than you have. It would have been like taking on another full-time job, since I know you wouldn’t trust anyone else to run it,” Grant said rationally.
“I wanted that deal,” she told him flatly, impossibly hurt that he would go behind her back and sell his key property with the prime location to her arch nemeses––the Donovan brothers. That sale had effectively won them the entire agreement.
Grant sighed before responding. “You wanted to beat Trey, and now Trevor Donovan. You didn’t really care about the deal. You just wanted to win it over them.”
“Your mansplaining is draining me. Besides, so what if I did?” she asked him, sounding rather like a petulant child. “Why should they get to win? I’ve worked hard to get where I am too, and I deserve to enjoy it.”
“But are you?” Grant asked her point-blank. When silence greeted him on the other end of the line, he clarified, “Are you enjoying your hard-earned power and money? Because as far as I can see, all you do is chase after the next deal and more money. When do you get to enjoy it? When you’re old, like me?”
Selena could feel angry and hurt tears forming in her lower lids. She hated showing weakness by crying, and she stubbornly refused to do it again. Blinking back her blasted emotions, she answered Grant. “I am enjoying my life,” she defended her choices. “I like to work hard and be the best. I love winning, and that’s what I’m doing… when you don’t poke your nose in and ruin deals for me.” That last bit sounded snarky, but she couldn’t resist jabbing at him one more time for shutting her out of the massive mall deal that she had been chasing for months.
Grant went on as if she hadn’t said anything. “You don’t want to waste your life chasing an unattainable dream, Hon.”
She smiled at the endearment. He hadn’t called her that in years. Grant had been a good friend of her father’s and the only one willing to take her in after her parents’ tragic car accident. He had been a stoic, demanding guardian, but he had taught her the importance of hard work and doing whatever it takes to succeed.
She had learned her lessons well and turned her Ivy League degree and elite contacts into a real estate investment firm to be reckoned with. Her keen business sense and knack for knowing when to push for a better deal or walk away had allowed her business conglomerate to grow exponentially over the past few years. She was powerful and wealthy beyond her wildest dreams, but somehow it still wasn’t enough.
“You think I’m wasting my life?” she asked her mentor quietly, still seeking his hard-to-earn approval, despite her success.
“Don’t you?” he asked her bluntly.
Selena stared at the wall across from her desk. She blinked several times as she worked to process what Grant had said. “No, I’m not wasting my life,” she finally snapped at him. “Who taught me to go after what I wanted at all costs and to never give up and to always win?” The words spewed out of her. She had spent her life trying to live up to this man’s expectations, yet no matter what she accomplished, he somehow managed to make her still feel inferior.
“Maybe I was too hard on you,” he finally admitted before adding, “When will it ever be enough?”
“You tell me,” Selena barked into the phone before slamming it down into its cradle.
Running a hand through her long, dark hair, she paced back and forth, fuming. “He’s the one with the problem,” she said aloud to the empty room. “He’s the one who is never satisfied. It’s never enough for him, not me.”
As she whirled on her heel to walk back towards her office door, she saw the man standing awkwardly just inside the threshold. “What?” she snipped, wondering if he had heard her ranting to herself.
“Your assistant said I should come on in,” he justified his entry into her domain. “I’m here to give you a much-needed massage.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t appreciate the insinuation behind his word choice. “So, you think you know what I need?” She knew she was taking out her anger at Grant on the masseur, but she needed to vent.
“I can come back later,” he offered, his eyes locked onto hers.
She liked that he didn’t look away from her. Most people averted their gazes when she was in a snit. It seemed to be a side effect of having so much power and money.
“No, now will do,” she told him, knowing that she needed to calm down in order to keep this brewing migraine from screeching her activity level to a halt. If she let it progress into a full-blown headache, her productivity would be shot because she would be hiding in a dark room for hours––possibly days.
“Yes, Ma’am.” He answered politely, and she thought she saw a glimmer of a smile in his eyes as he went to set up his table.
3
“That won’t be necessary,” she pointed at the table he was erecting in front of her giant window overlooking the city. “I’m going to get a few things done while you do my massage, so you can come stand behind my chair.”
She took off her blazer and sat down in her giant leather executive chair without looking in his direction. She assumed he would comply with her request because everyone always did. That was why his simple reply of “No” caught her so off guard.
“Excuse me?” her voice and eyebrows were both slightly elevated.
He went about setting up his massage table as if he hadn’t heard her. She couldn’t believe her eyes.
Enunciating her words, she spoke to the man as if he were impossibly slow on the uptake, “You’ll need to do my massage over here at my desk. There’s no need for the table.”
Turning to look at her, he gave her an exasperated look. “It’s the table or nothing,” he challenged her.
Selena’s head kicked back as if she had been hit. No one ever talked back to her like this. It was her way or the highway. “I’ll take my massage in my chair,” she seethed.
“Nothing it is, then,” he sounded almost jovial as began packing up the folding table that he had just erected.
Appalled at his level of gall, her mouth fell open of its own accord as she gaped at him. “Have you forgotten that I am the one paying your fee?” She finally asked him.
“No, Ma’am,” he answered politely, even as he continued packing up his gear to leave. Turning to her, he added, “I won’t charge you, since I didn’t do the work.”
His words stunned her. Most people saw her wealth and status as a means to double or triple their normal charges. “I want you to do the work,” she clarified. “I need a massage, but I can’t just stop everything and lay down for an hour.”
“Then there’s nothing I can do for you.” He had the audacity to smile at her.
She hated to admit it, but his smile was charming. His dark hair was a smidge too long, so when it fell in front of his eyes, he swept it back with a hand. She wondered how those strong, tan hands would feel on her skin.
Deciding that checking out the obstinate masseur was a sure sign that it had been far too long since she’d had a love interest, she snapped her attention back to their conversation. “You can give me a massage… at my desk… like I asked.” She spoke plainly and calmly, trying to give him the opportunity to right the situation.
“Look,” he was starting to sound exasperated with her, “You hired me to do a job. That job is to use my hands to make you feel better.” He held up the hands in question and she couldn’t help picturing them sliding over her body. “You are not going to be able to properly relax if you’re sitting at your desk, continuing to work. I refuse to wo
rk on you, unless you take a real break and let my healing touch work its magic on your over-stressed muscles.”
“Refuse?” she sputtered, pretending to be angry with this stubborn man. Despite knowing that she should be annoyed by his insubordination, she couldn’t help being charmed by it. No one ever stood up to her like this. Besides, she couldn’t stop thinking about his ‘healing touch’ or him working ‘magic’ on her. The thoughts were intriguing.
She knew she was at a crossroads. She could throw a hissy fit, order him out of her office, and deal with the raging headache that was approaching; or she could back down a little, see if this man’s hands were as magical as promised, and hopefully stop this headache in it’s tracks, so she could get some actual work done.
“Set up the damn table,” she finally acquiesced, admitting to herself it was the only reasonable option she had left.
He nodded with the slightest hint of a smile turning up his lips as he went to work reassembling the table. His smile would have seemed cocky and annoying if it had been an ‘I won this battle’ gesture, but instead it was more of a ‘This worked out for everyone’ look.
Her light pink, perfectly manicured nails tapped on her wireless keyboard as she fired off a couple of quick emails, while he finished setting up his equipment. As soon as he finished, he walked over and shut off the lights in her office. She let out a slightly exasperated huff, despite the fact that not having the bright florescence beaming down on her provided an immediate bit of relief to her pounding head.
Completely ignoring her passive-aggressive sigh, he said, “I’ll go into the restroom while you get ready.”