Her Big Fat Hunky Billionaire Boss (Billionaire Series Book 3)

by Victorine Lieske

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Her Big Fat Hunky Billionaire Boss

  Billionaire Series Book 3

  Victorine E. Lieske

  Published by: Victorine E. Lieske

  SCOTTSBLUFF, NEBRASKA

  Copyright © 2018 by Victorine E. Lieske

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  Victorine E. Lieske

  PO Box 493

  Scottsbluff, NE 69363

  www.victorinelieske.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Her Big Fat Hunky Billionaire Boss/ Victorine E. Lieske. -- 1st ed.

  Chapter 1

  Damian scrolled through the photos in the online matchmaking service feeling more frustrated as he went. Why did he sign up for this thing? His CFO convinced him PrivilegedSingles.com was the way to go, but after a few weeks of looking through the profiles, he realized Chuck just got lucky when he found his wife. The women on Privileged Singles were horrible. They all looked plastic. He blew out a breath and closed the website, not sure why he even bothered. He was damaged goods.

  He scrubbed his face with his hand and picked up his double-short low-fat no-foam latte and took a sip. The liquid warmed his throat. The Twitchy Bean always made his coffee just how he liked it. Some people called him particular. He simply knew what he liked and how to get it. Nothing wrong with that.

  Enough stalling. He clicked back over to the spreadsheet he had been working on and sighed. Pleasant Hollow Times. Another month of barely scraping by. The stupid newspaper was a thorn in his side. Not that Warren Industries couldn’t take a loss. They were a multi-billion-dollar company. But that small-town newspaper made no sense. Warren Industries mostly owned tech companies.

  He’d asked his father why he owned it, but every time he tried to get answers, his father would brush him off. He wouldn’t talk about it which made Damian insanely curious. And irritated.

  And who even read the newspaper anymore? Everyone got their news online. Why had his father made him promise he’d keep it?

  Damian shook his head. The real question was, why was he still honoring his father’s wishes? He’d passed away a year ago. There was no reason to keep the tiny newspaper business on the books. His father was gone and Damian was in charge now.

  He stood from his office chair and walked to the large windows overlooking the city, the morning sun shining. He could see his reflection in the glass as he walked. His limp was more pronounced today. Stress did that to him. He’d have to do some of his exercises.

  What he really wanted to do was go to Pleasant Hollow, Wisconsin and find out why his father bought the newspaper in the first place. Maybe there was some hidden value in the building that he’d see if he went there. Or maybe his father was just sentimental, hanging onto it because it represented a time gone past.

  His secretary beeped in. “You have a call on line one.”

  “Who is it?”

  The intercom clicked. “Your mother.”

  Oh, no. He didn’t want to deal with her right now. Damian grabbed his coat and pulled it on, then pushed the intercom button. “Actually, hold all my calls. I’m going to be out of the office for a few days.”

  His secretary paused. “A vacation?”

  Damian scoffed. “You know I don’t believe in those. This is work related.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He’d go to Pleasant Hollow and look around. If he didn’t find anything, he could shut down the newspaper without feeling like he was betraying his father. He’d sell the building and finally get the strange failing business off the books. He picked up his briefcase and coffee and left the office.

  As he stepped into the elevator his phone buzzed. He cringed before pulling it out and answering it. “Hello, Mother.”

  “Why have you been avoiding me? I have dinner all set up for tomorrow and I don’t even know if you’re coming.”

  Oops. He’d forgotten about that. “Sorry, I’m heading out of town.”

  “Whatever for? I told you I wanted to set up something special on Friday night.”

  The elevator doors opened and he stepped out into the underground garage. “I know what your ‘something special’ means, and I’m not interested.”

  His mother sighed. “How do you know you’re not interested? You don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

  Damian rolled his eyes and started toward his Lexus. “Who is she?”

  “Well…I…”

  “Mother. I don’t want to be set up.” He clicked his key FOB, the chirping noise echoing off the concrete walls.

  “She’s lovely. You’ll like her.”

  “How do you know her? Are you setting me up with a total stranger?”

  “She’s Terry Johnson’s daughter.”

  His mouth dropped. “Priscilla? Mom, we dated last year. Don’t you remember? She’s the one who talked non-stop about the Kardashians.” And then she dumped him when she saw his leg. But he held that last bit in.

  “I think you should give her another chance.”

  Was his mother serious? “Mom, I have to go. I’m getting in the car.”

  “Well, are you coming tomorrow? I need to know.”

  Damian slid into the driver’s seat. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m on my way out of town as we speak.”

  “When will you be back?”

  His mother sounded a bit desperate. What had she planned? “I don’t know. Maybe not for a while.” A long while.

  “Why do you have to leave?”

  “I’ve just got to conduct some business. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  He could picture his mother on the other end of the phone frowning. “All right.”

  He hung up the phone, glad he didn’t have to have dinner with Priscilla on Friday.

  ***

  Katherine Fox pulled her coat tighter around her while the biting air stung her eyes. She hurried to the back of the building, glad when she got inside and the warmth enveloped her. As she made her way to the front desk, she waved at Fred, hunched over his computer. No matter how early she came in, Fred always beat her. “Any news this morning?”

  Fred didn’t look up from his computer. His favorite orange and brown striped scarf still hung around his neck. He often wore it, even when it wasn’t cold out. She’d asked him about it once and he’d grumbled something about a doctor and didn’t she watch television, whatever that meant.

  “Hey, Kat. Not much going on except the impending blizzard. I’ve been fielding ca
lls since I got here. You’d think people had never heard of snow before.”

  Kat shrugged. “It’s supposed to be the first big snowstorm of the season. People just want to know how much to stock up. At least it’s Friday. I’m planning on holing up in my cozy little house all weekend.”

  She hung her coat on the rack and woke her computer up. Her boss’s door was closed, the blinds shut. “Is Lydia in?”

  “Nope. Not yet.”

  Kat walked to the sink and filled the coffee pot with water. Good. Then maybe she could work a little on her column before things started getting crazy. She poured in the water and set the pot in place.

  Back at her desk she opened up her fake email account and scrolled through the messages. Viagra…delete. Fortune telling…delete. Enlarging certain body parts she didn’t even have? Yeah…delete. Ah, there was a good one. An inheritance. She clicked the message and scanned it.

  Dear Madam,

  It is of great importance I write you. With solemn reverence, I tell you King Jahar Ho has passed leaving quite a large sum of money. I would like for you to collect your inheritance. Please respond quickly as I have seven million dollars to send you. All I need is a thousand-dollar transfer fee. This matter is very urgent.

  Doctor Bryon Yong

  Kat smiled. This was perfect. She clicked reply.

  Dear Doctor Yong,

  I am so saddened to hear of the death of King Jahar Ho. I barely knew the man, but I remember his fondness for Ho Hos, which I thought was funny, given his last name. He loved Santa as well. And gardening.

  Anyway, I’m shocked and surprised to learn he has left me such a large inheritance. He really didn’t like me much, seeing as I made fun of his name all the time.

  Kat giggled and Fred glanced her way. “What’s so funny?”

  “Just doing my job. Well, the fun part of my job.”

  He shook his head. “You have way too much fun with your column.”

  “I’m only doing this until Lydia lets me take a real reporting job.”

  “It’s not all its cracked up to be,” Fred said under his breath.

  Kat ignored him and continued with her email.

  I see you need me to send you a thousand dollars in order to process the inheritance. I’m excited to say I have exactly a thousand dollars in the bank and I am going to take it to Western Union right away. I just need to make sure you’re not a scammer.

  Could you please send me a photograph of you holding a package of Ho Hos? This will be the proof I need. I will send the money shortly.

  Much love,

  Katalina Mariachi Edwina Philipina

  She pressed the send button and leaned back in her chair. Fred glanced at her, the clicking of his keyboard paused. “What did you ask this poor sucker to do?”

  “This one’s going to be all about the Ho Hos. We’re starting with a photo.”

  He chuckled. “Do they even have Ho Hos in Nigeria?”

  “Guess we’ll find out.” Kat went to check on the coffee. She pulled her mug out from the cabinet and filled it with the hot liquid.

  Fred shook his head. “I don’t know how you get these guys to actually do what you ask.”

  She turned and shot him a cheesy grin. That was the best part. When she got a scammer to do something ridiculous, it felt like winning. Getting back a little. “You just have to know what buttons to push.”

  He resumed his typing. “You’re insane.”

  Kat laughed as the door opened and Lydia came rushing in. “I think the storm has started.” She brushed a few flakes out of her hair as she walked toward her office. The woman was a force to be reckoned with. She’d been running this place ever since Kat could remember, but didn’t look like she’d aged much. Amazing what hair coloring could do.

  Lydia unlocked her office. “Have Sarah find out why I saw a fire truck on fifth avenue.”

  Kat hurried to get Lydia’s coffee while Paul came in and stamped snow from his boots. The woman was a bear if she didn’t bring it right away. As Kat filled the mug she wondered if Lydia would ever give her the chance she needed to prove herself. She rushed to set the mug down on Lydia’s desk.

  Lydia picked it up and sipped it without acknowledging her. Whatever. Kat went back to her desk. When Sarah entered Kat called to her. “Firetrucks on Fifth Avenue.”

  “Already on it,” Sarah said.

  The front door opened, and a man walked in. Talk about tall, dark and handsome. Kat almost swallowed her tongue. Wow, who let the hottie in? With a suit and hairstyle straight from GQ, Kat was sure he wasn’t from Pleasant Hollow. He wore an expensive looking coat and clutched a briefcase in his gloved hand. She cleared her throat. “How can I help you?”

  The man brushed snow off his shoulder while he took his time looking around. Finally, his gaze landed on her. “Who’s in charge here?”

  Lydia didn’t like it when Kat let just anyone back into her office, so Kat stood. “What do you need? Maybe I can help you.”

  Irritation crossed his features. “I need to speak to the person in charge. Since that’s obviously not you, I don’t see how you can help me.”

  Kat’s first impression of the guy fell to the floor. Sure, he was hot, but rude guys were so not appealing. “Lydia’s in charge. Can I tell her who would like to speak to her?”

  “I’m Damian Warren. I own this newspaper.”

  Oh, this could not be good. Lydia was always complaining about how Paul needed to sell more advertising, or she’d fire him. But she never would. He had a wife and three kids. Deep down, Lydia was more of a softie than she liked to let on.

  “I’ll take you to her.”

  Damian followed her past the desks to the back. She noticed a slight limp as he walked, and she wondered what was up with him. He didn’t look old enough to be a war veteran or anything. He couldn’t be much more than thirty. Kat entered Lydia’s office and wrung her hands. “There’s someone here to see you. Says he’s the owner.”

  Lydia froze, her face draining of color. Whoa, what had her flustered? Kat had never seen her like this. Lydia stood and swallowed. “Well. Show him in, please.”

  Kat stepped aside so Damian could enter. Damian stuck out his hand. Lydia blinked for a moment, just staring at him.

  “I’m Damian Warren.”

  Lydia seemed to snap out of whatever held her captive, and she took his hand. “Lydia Parker.” Lydia glared at Kat. “Will you close the door when you leave?”

  Kat nodded and pulled the door shut. What was that about? As she walked past Fred’s desk she leaned over. “Do you know that guy?”

  Fred shook his head. “Nope. Never seen him before.”

  Weird. Whatever it was, Kat hoped the newspaper wasn’t in trouble. Christmas was two weeks away and she couldn’t afford to lose her job. She barely scraped by as it was, and her mother needed her.

  Chapter 2

  Damian sized up the woman standing behind the desk. She was in her early fifties, dedicated to her work, and flustered that he was in her office. If he was going to get to the bottom of this, he’d better play it cool.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Warren. I had no idea you were in town.” Lydia twisted her hands together.

  “I flew in last night.” He glanced around her office. There was nothing of value. Nothing special about the building. He didn’t even see any printing presses, which might be worth something to a museum. Maybe they printed in another building. He’d have to ask.

  “I see.” Lydia smoothed out her pencil skirt. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “I’m here to check up on things. I’ve been running Warren Industries since my father’s passing.”

  Lydia slowly nodded. “What would you like from me? Access to the books? To the building?”

  Good. She was going to cooperate. “Yes. I’ll need both of those things.”

  “Of course. Anything you need. You’ll see we run a tight ship here. Pleasant Hollow is a small town, but they rely on their w
eekly newspaper.”

  “Weekly?” Damian sucked in a breath. “You’re not a daily paper?”

  “Oh, heavens no. We don’t have enough staff to print daily.”

  Wow. They actually brought in more income than he’d thought with just a weekly paper. Now he was more curious than ever to see their books. “Do you have a desk I could use? Just for a few days?”

  Lydia swallowed. She looked like she was going to faint. “Yes, of course. Come with me.” She brushed past him and opened the door, motioning for him to follow her. “Everyone, this is Damian. He owns Pleasant Hollow Times.” She began pointing people out. “This is Sarah and Fred. They do the reporting. Paul is our graphic designer and he sells the ads. And Katherine runs the front desk and helps with whatever else is necessary.”

  She turned back to her employees. “Damian’s going to be using Garrett’s old desk for a few days. Please let him have access to what he needs. He’s come all the way from New York.”

  Damian felt the weight of all eyes on him. He tugged at his tie. “Yes. Thank you. Just go on doing your jobs. I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

  Lydia walked to an empty desk near the front of the room. “You can sit here.”

  Damian set his briefcase down on the scratched wood surface. It was more in the open than he’d like, but it would have to do. He didn’t want to start off by kicking Lydia out of her office. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll go get the files you’ll need.” She left him there, with everyone still staring at him.

  He glanced at Katherine, sitting behind the front desk. She wore a baggy sweater with skinny jeans and tall black boots. It looked good on her.

  First things first. “Do you know where I can get a good cup of coffee?”

  Katherine stood. “I’ll get you a cup.”

  “No,” he said quickly, glancing at the cheap coffee maker on the counter. “I’d rather order specifically what I like if you don’t mind.”

  The woman glared at him, her hand on her hip. “What’s wrong with the coffee I made?”