by Sienna Ciles
“See, you get the deals, they pay you, and then you pay them back as other money comes in. There’s never any deal.”
Eric leaned back. “So, it didn’t bother you that all of this was happening to my father, who was ill at the time?”
George tried contrition, but it didn’t look good on his face. “Sorry about that.”
Eric and I both looked at each other as we heard the next words that came through our headsets.
“We’re coming in.”
The doors slammed open, and Tommy and a few other officers came in and arrested George, Rhonda, and Courtney. It felt like a night well deserved. I felt bad for Tommy, however. I could hear all of them squabbling with each other as they were being led out. I don’t even know if they were sober enough to understand what was happening.
Two weeks later, Taylor and I walked arm in arm into the bar. Today was the day the contractors were coming in. The TVs were on over the bar and the local news channel was on at noon.
“Hey, look.” Eric pointed to the TV. Kris came in from the office and put her arms around Eric. He leaned down to kiss her. I’m glad he finally got that out of the way. She settled nice in his arms as did my Taylor in mine. The news flashed with the latest of the Harris case.
Getting them arrested while they were at the bar gave enough cause that the police were able to search all the homes and real estate that Courtney and George owned. Rhonda was going to cop a plea from what I heard, feeling she was coerced into helping with all she thought that George had. Which really was nothing in the long run. But I didn’t think she would get off that easy.
I did feel sad as I saw one face I hadn’t expected. As Henry predicted, there were people from all walks of life who were being brought in and one of them was the young woman who had eyed Eric up in the courthouse, Tammy Johnson. Turned out Rhonda and she were running a scam with phony receipts and keeping their money. There were several property owners, including us, who had suffered for that and the payback would be in the tens of thousands.
Courtney would more than likely get some time as an accomplice and even her family was being brought up on charges for accepting stolen property. It was going to fall heavy on George and some of his business associates. He would likely never see the light of day again.
I turned away from the news and pulled Taylor close to me. That little bit of time I’d spent in prison would be nothing to what George would have to experience. All those people with money lost. Even if it would be a white-collar crime and feel more of a hotel with bars experience, he would still be looking at around twenty years. George was already turning on his cronies. He would deal them all away to save his own ass and shave his time down to about a decade.
I looked around the bar. Kris and Eric were happily standing with their arms around each other. Every night they had off, they were outside of Eric’s house, working away on the old Chevy, laughing and drinking beer. She moved in just a couple of days ago. I asked Eric if maybe it was too soon, but he shook his head.
“Man, I’ve been blind for years. So lost in my own head I couldn’t see what was in front of me, staring at me with those gorgeous brown eyes. I’m not letting her slip away.”
For me, it was still life at the penthouse. I was moving my base of operations from LA to here. Mabel was handling things over there and then she, too, would come over. She wanted to meet Taylor and Eric, the people who had lured her Dalton away from his business. I could see her hanging with Peggy and getting into all sorts of trouble. I would have to watch those two.
Taylor spent most nights with me but preferred to be at home working in her media empire in the rehabbed cellar her father built. She was still grieving his loss, and this helped her feel close to him.
Speaking of rehabs, the contractors had started arriving yesterday. We had worked out plans for a stage as well as an outdoor patio. Pops would be rolling in his grave, but we needed to stay on the pulse of what people were going out for and what they wanted in their local community. Taylor kept up on surveys and public opinion. Kris did the leg work and people would tell her what they loved and didn’t love about the changes. So far, it had been pretty positive.
The only thing we couldn’t agree on was which farm should grow the hops for our specialty blend. Eric liked one, and I liked another. So, we made deals with both. One spring and one fall craft beer. Sold exclusively at all D&E nightclubs. I also made Eric a partner in D&E. Henry was handling that deal. Long overdue in my opinion.
I gazed around the bar at all the commotion of the contractors, the smell of the beers, the regulars at the bar, and the staff running around and felt like I was home. Most importantly was how everything was coming together. It wouldn’t fit perfectly like puzzle pieces, but we were going to make our own little tribe. Full of people with faults, tempers, misunderstandings, and loss.
From that, we would grow and heal and grow forward. Two months ago, I never would have thought that I would be here, back with my family, back where I felt I belonged. Now it felt like a piece of me had returned and found refuge. The four of us made a really good team. Our puzzle pieces were damaged.
Beautiful mosaic artwork was made from broken tile pieces. So far, this had been shaping up as well. I felt like Pops was smiling down on our frail and faulted family and was pulling on his pipe. Happy we had come together.
Out of the corner of my eye, by the open screen of the back door, I saw the dim glow of a cigar. I saw it be put out and the door opened, and Peggy walked over. No family would be complete without that one person. The person who stitched everyone back together with little hints and suggestions. She came over to me and gave me a hug.
“What’s that for, Peggy?”
She looked up at me with tears in her eyes. Taylor turned toward her, momentarily concerned.
“You did good, boyo. You all did.”
I hugged her back and kissed the top of her minion head.
Yes, we did.
I felt an arm go around my waist. I looked down to see those sea-foam eyes I adored staring back.
“What is it you need, my little imp?” I asked her.
Taylor smiled up at me, innocent shy smile and mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She put her fingers on my lips and took me by my hand. We passed by Kris and Eric, who didn’t even notice, they were so wrapped up in themselves.
We went down to the cellar, where it all began. I picked her up and put her on the table. She pulled me to her and her kisses sent a shiver down my spine.
“So, what’s next for us?” she asked when she pulled away, leaving me breathless.
“I was thinking of us traveling around the world, getting you involved with Dalton’s Fancy and the other clubs. You need to see them first hand.”
Her eyes lit up. “Really, traveling? I’ve never been out of Asheville.” She tilted her head. “By myself?”
Surprised, I pulled back from her. “Not on your life. That is…if you want me tagging me along.”
“Oh, definitely.”
She grinned and pulled me close. “Now, where were we?”
Our lips met, and our bodies shortly followed to add the next stanza to the symphony we had begun a month ago. One we would never end.
Special Bonus Books
Dear Reader,
As a special bonus, I’ve included two more bad boy romance books for a limited time. Thank you for being a reader and I hope you enjoy these!
Also be sure to check out the special note in the back of the book to find out how you can get free copies of my books before they are officially published!
Hugs!
Sienna
Hard for Her
A Billionaire Romance
By
Sienna Ciles
www.SiennaCiles.com
Copyright
First Edition, November 2017
Copyright © 2017 by Sienna Ciles
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is
entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and situations are the product of the author's imagination.
All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.
License
This book is available exclusively on Amazon.com. If you found this book for free or from a site other than an Amazon.com country specific website it means the author was not compensated for this book and you have likely obtained this book through an unapproved distribution channel.
Book Description
A hot stranger rescued me. Tall dark handsome and dirty as sin.
Three months and counting until I leave this city behind.
The place I had dreamed of building a life, until it all fell apart.
Too many bad dates to count.
A broken engagement.
A job I don’t love.
And how do I celebrate?
Being stood up by a blind date.
And then he showed up.
The hot stranger that rescued my night.
I’d take his pity, and so much more.
Alex Westbrooke is all that’s on my mind,
but everything I don’t need.
Tall, dark, handsome and rich with a heart of gold.
I thought I had made up my mind,
But I’m finding it growing harder
to make the right decision.
Especially, when he’s promised
to give it all to me.
Chapter 1
Alex
“Congratulations! Ten big years. How’s it feel?” Alicia stood in the office doorway and stared at me with her overly white smile. “I got you a little something to celebrate.” She padded over to my desk with the box of bourbon in her hands. It was strategically held so her breasts rested on top with the bow perched in between them.
“Thanks,” I said with a grin. “You… really didn’t need to.” I played with the ring on my hand, twisting it. It was a nervous habit, and something about Alicia made me nervous. Her five-foot-two frame made all six-foot-one of me nervous, mostly because I wasn’t sure what she would do next.
“So, can we drink it tonight?” Alicia flipped her blond hair over her back, revealing her shoulder and neck. Then she slowly placed the box on my desk. Her cleavage hung in the pink sundress that definitely wasn’t suitable for the office. No one seemed to mind that she didn’t follow the dress code, though.
I took a long stare and then looked up, meeting her blue eyes that had caught me stealing a glance. Alicia smiled and stood up straighter, accentuating her curves and breasts.
“Raincheck?” I said. “I have a meeting tonight with a client.” I pushed the box of bourbon aside and grabbed the portfolio on my desk and flipped it open.
“Sounds perfect. It’s a date!” She giggled as she lingered a bit longer and then pretended to pick a piece of something from my suit. “Is this a new client?”
“It’s an athlete… I’m hoping to land an endorsement deal. We’ll see.” I pushed past Alicia and headed toward the door. “Do you know if Charles is still in the office?”
“His light was on when I walked past.” Alicia followed behind as I left my office and headed down the hall of the Westbrooke, Inc. headquarters. “So, next week then?”
“Sure.” I quickened my pace toward Charles’s office. Charles. My father had always insisted I call him by his first name while in the office. As if everyone didn’t know I was his son. It seemed ridiculous but he wouldn’t even answer if I called him Dad. I did it anyway—oftentimes when I just wanted to get a rise out of him and piss him off.
When it really counted, I addressed him by Charles, and this particular instance just happened to count. A possible endorsement deal with a popular former athlete had come across my desk and I knew that my father would likely be interested in this particular individual.
Alicia continued down the hall toward the elevator, much to my relief, and had all but disappeared from my view as I approached my father’s private office. As I raised my hand to knock on the door, surprisingly, it opened as soon as my hand touched the cherry wood surface.
“Alex?” My father’s voice filled my ears as his piercing blue eyes met mine.
Everyone at the company said we looked a lot alike. I’d definitely inherited his deep blue eye color and thick brown hair. Also, my strong, well-defined chin and the ability to grow a perfect goatee were two other traits that were passed on to me by Charles Michael Westbrooke.
Another similarity was that I’ve been six-foot-one since my third year of high school and my current weight is roughly 215—give or take a pound or two. Back in my college days, I was an avid football player and fan, and over the years, I’ve been able to maintain my athletic frame pretty well.
“Charles,” I replied, clearing my throat, attempting to sound more in control than I actually felt.
“Come on in,” he said firmly, briefly raising his eyes up from whatever paperwork he was currently working on. I could see that he was on a business call, and the tone of his voice made it evident to me that it was likely an important one.
I entered his office quietly, taking in the wooden bookshelves and the large metal desk he was sitting at. Sitting down in one of the leather chairs, I made myself comfortable, still watching him intently as I waited for him to finish his call. He signaled me with his pointer finger and a fervent wink of his eye.
After what seemed like forever, he finally hung up the phone and turned his attention to me.
“So, I hear that you have some good news for me, then?” he asked, brushing his graying goatee between his fingers and raising his left eyebrow as he spoke.
“Ah, yes.” I set the folder I was holding down on his desk in front of him. “A former pro-football player. We may be able to talk him into an endorsement deal that will benefit our company and his career.”
Putting on his reading glasses, my father opened the folder and began to browse through its contents. Something about him always made me feel self-conscious whenever I was in his presence. I reached up and adjusted my tie as I watched him look over the athlete’s file.
“Well, Alex, seeing as you’ll take my place as the CEO of this company when I finally retire next year, perhaps you should be the one handling this particular deal,” he said sternly, closing the folder and sliding it across the desk back over toward me.
A small, sly grin was playing at the corner of his lips as he eyed me with a concentrated stare.
He had been discussing this shift in ownership of the company for the past several months. I had been the president of Westbrooke, Inc. for the past ten years but my dad had always been the CEO. When he announced his plan to retire a few months ago, he named me as the sole heir and future CEO of the company. Somehow, though, he had this way of making me feel intimidated by the way that he looked at me and addressed me whenever it came to important business matters and situations.
Though I’ve never felt exactly inferior to him in anyway, he just has a way of making me wonder whether or not I “measure up” to the incredibly high standards he has always had when it comes to leadership and responsibility. Knowing that I will have to “fill his shoes” one day soon is a constant reminder that it’s time to for me to put my playboy days behind me and man up to the task. Not just in my business life, but in my personal life as well.
This was one of the main reasons why women like my gorgeous and overly-flirtatious assistant, Alicia, are no longer on my personal “to-do list.” A few years ago, I would’ve had her bent over the desk in my private office and probably would’ve carried on a superficial fling with her until I became bored and moved on to another hot, big-tittied, long-legged vixen. However, with the constant pressure I’ve been getting from both of my parents to settle down and start acting like a “grown man,” I’ve had to stifle my boyish, superficial passions and start looking for a more meaningful relationship with a woman of a
ctual depth and profundity.
Believe it or not, though, for a wealthy businessman like myself, that has actually been more difficult to find than pretty much anything else in my luxurious, sumptuous little world.
My father founded Westbrooke, Inc. nearly twenty years ago, and he and my mother built the company from the ground up. The patents their company invented on footwear and clothing technology helped them turn it into a multi-billion-dollar conglomerate within the first five years. Ten years ago this week, I’d graduated from Yale with a master’s degree in business management, and my father made me the company president. That was why Alicia had been so adamant about celebrating with the box of bourbon.
Now, at thirty-five years old, I was preparing to take over as CEO, and my father was giving me more responsibility than ever, yet his expectations had not wavered in the least.
I thanked him for the opportunity and stood up to leave his office. Just as I was about to walk out the door, he called out to me one last time.
“Alex,” he said sternly. I turned around to face him with my hand still on the doorknob.
“Yes, Da—er—Charles?” I replied, stammering over my words like a nervous, bumbling schoolboy.
“Don’t let me down, son,” he warned, winking. Had I not known any better, I’d have taken it as a playful, friendly comment. But, having been the only son of CEO Charles Michael Westbrooke, I absolutely knew better than to think that.
“Yes, sir,” I replied coolly, and then let his office door shut behind me.
Chapter 2
Holly
Am I really about to do this? Shaking my head, I made my way out to my small silver sedan parked in the far-left end of the Grantville Elementary School parking lot.
It was a few minutes after four o’clock and I had stupidly let my best friend Joana Wharton talk me into going out on a blind date. My date, a guy named Martin Langley, was supposed to be meeting me at a lavish restaurant called the Lovehouse—one of the nicest eateries in the area, which was actually the main reason why I’d even agreed to go in the first place. I figured that if the guy could afford to take me to the Lovehouse on our first date, he just might be someone worth getting to know.
