The Billionaire's Birthday Love

by Ginny Sterling

  “No. I mean, I would like to go, but I just got here. I probably need to check in with the port authorities, get my passport stamped, or something.”

  “This is a private dock for our company. You can get your passport stamped tomorrow, if you would like to still—but you cannot attend in blue jean shorts. I believe there is a gown staged for you, Miss Murray.”

  “Please call me Jolie—and I think we both know there is a gown on this ship.”

  “Then see to it, Miss Jolie, and let’s get going.”

  “Will do, Theios—I will be up in ten minutes.”

  She cut the engines off and disappearing into the hold quickly. She’d taken a shower this morning, washing her hair thoroughly of all salt, braiding it tightly against her head. Now that it was dry, she pulled the rubber band from the bottom of the braid and shook out her hair, waves cascading down past her shoulders.

  Pulling it back lightly, she smiled at the simply look in the mirror. She tugged on the gown, cursing when she pinched herself with the zipper, and then straightened up to see how it fit.

  The gown was black and looked incredible against her tanned skin; it reminded her of when she’d seen Max in that little speedo. She couldn’t stop staring at him. It wasn’t just the fact that he was lovely, nor the teensy scrap of fabric, but it was the way his golden skin glowed against the black material.

  She had that glow right now after hours in the sun. The fitted bodice flared into an easy skirt just below her waist, almost like a formal sundress instead of a ballgown. It was puffy, like a princess, because of the amount of tulle under the skirt to make it flare slightly.

  Hesitating, she stared at herself in the mirror. What if this was all a mistake? Doubts had plagued her as she crossed the sea alone. What if she had misunderstood the signs she thought he’d been giving her? Was she about to make a fool of herself? She had always been confident, but right now, dressed for an unknown event and preparing to parade herself before others in an attempt to win Max’s heart… she had never felt so vulnerable.

  “Jolie, you can do this,” she whispered aloud to her reflection. “If this was real, you can start from here. If it’s not, you got a free trip to Greece and can bury that pain with cheap souvenirs and amazing Greek food.”

  “Miss Murray?”

  She heard a voice call out from above and sighed nervously.

  “I’m coming.”

  Jolie felt like she was in the middle of some dream. As she exited the ship, following Augustus, she took a seat in a large silver Rolls Royce. She wanted to balk or make jokes about how out of place she felt, but there was something in Augustus’ kind eyes that stopped her.

  “Just be yourself,” he coached gently as they pulled in front of a gigantic stone building. She glanced out the window to see the mass of windows and columns lining the facade. It looked like a large business complex downtown, but there were minor things that signified it might be more than that. A quaint mailbox, several flowerpots near the doors, and curtains made her realize that part of this massive structure was almost homey-feeling.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Max has always been gentle and pushed into what his family wants for him. He’s never had to stand up for himself and needs someone strong on his side.”

  “Aren’t you part of his family?”

  “Yes, but I understand that boy more than he realizes,” Augustus replied quietly. “He will never be happy unless he makes his own path among the future laid out for him. I’ve never seen my nephew so happy and sad at the same time. You are good for him.”

  “Are you sure about this?”

  “Only you can decide that,” he said sagely, smiling at her.

  “I miss him terribly and was asking myself that same question repeatedly on the trip over,” she admitted as the door opened and Augustus sat unmoving.

  “So, what are your plans?”

  “Well, you are blocking the way, aren’t you?” Jolie said with a smile, showing that he needed to move so they could get out of the car.

  “Relax and enjoy yourself,” Augustus prompted, picking up her hand and patting it encouragingly. “Welcome to Greece, my friend.”

  Nodding, she felt a strange lump of emotion in her throat. This was like something out of a dream. Jolie watched him exit the car and put her best foot forward as she stepped out behind him. It was like putting herself in the Princess Diaries movie. A few cameras clicked nearby, and she looked upwards at the building, flying the Greek flag proudly. Augustus took her elbow and held out his hand towards the front door which opened before her by a doorman.

  “Welcome, Mr. Georgas.”

  “Stop it, Tommy, or I will tell your mother you are misbehaving again.”

  “Malista kyrie,” he said with a beaming smile and corrected, “Yes, theios.”

  “That’s better, my boy.”

  Before Jolie could ask what was wrong, she was escorted inside the building and was stunned by the beauty before her. Two massive sweeping staircases ran up either side of the entryway almost in a half-circle. She could see people slowly ascending, stopping and talking with each other, and making their way to the top of the stairs before entering a room. She couldn’t help but ogle at the grand bookcases that lined the walls, the paintings, and the incredible chandeliers.

  “What is this place,” she whispered quietly.

  “This is the Georgas home,” he replied, smiling and waving idly. “My brother, Max’s father, and I grew up here. The eldest son takes the house and this will pass to Max someday.”

  “Max grew up here?” she asked, stunned.

  “Yes. The family rooms are towards the back of the house.”

  “What is the rest of this… museum?”

  “Offices and a great facade for guests,” Augustus said candidly, with a wink. “Being a Georgas means putting on a show and keeping your emotions in check sometimes.”

  “Really?” she asked, surprised. She didn’t remember a single time that Max kept things in check. It was like he was the most free and uninhibited person she’d ever met when they were together.

  “Yes. You will see it when you meet his parents.”

  “Where is Max?”

  “I’m sure he is hiding,” Augustus shared, smothering a laugh. “He hates these things with a passion because his mother is always pressuring him to marry.”

  “Oh no,” Jolie groaned painfully, pulling away immediately from the man escorting her forward towards the staircases. “Are you telling me that his mama is setting him up with someone tonight?”

  “Every single time.”

  “Maybe I should head back?”

  “…And give him up? I thought better of you,” he said with a frown, releasing her and withdrawing his arm. “Do what you want, Miss Murray. I will be upstairs in the reception hall.”

  Stunned, she watched as Max’s uncle began walking up the stairs without looking back. Several people walked past her, glancing at her almost curiously. Was she about to give up on a chance with Max because she was scared… or terrified? Here she was in some old-world country, among the elite, and chickening out because she might not hold up in a competition.

  “No.”

  Jolie picked up her skirts and began walking up the stairs with her head held high, ignoring the hammering of her heart and ignoring the foreign language spoken around her.

  They are talking about you.

  You don’t fit in here.

  You don’t belong here.

  A foreigner, a pauper, a nobody…

  “I’m not here for them,” she whispered aloud to herself, attempting to give a tiny boost of confidence. “I’m here for Max… and for myself.”

  She didn’t stop at the doorway to wait to be greeted, sign in, or anything of the sort. Instead, she walked directly between the two open doorways like she was born to this, ignoring the questioning looks.

  Stepping in, she saw the massive ballroom had soaring ceilings and looked to be quite ornate.
It was obvious that his family had money as it was dripping from every corner. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to grow up as a young boy here. There were no skinned knees here, no Legos on the floor, no Hot Wheels, or G.I. Joes left out.

  No, there was no being a child here, and this made her heart ache even more as she realized just how precious her time with Max was. It was probably the first time he’d really had a chance to truly be himself. No wonder he didn’t care what anyone thought because he’d held himself in check for so long.

  Looking around the room, she almost looked right past Max as she didn’t recognize the cool, bland expression on his face. He looked… adrift and alone.

  Jolie knew in that moment that was why she loved him, because he looked at her like she was a lifesaver—and she just might have been to him. It was up to her to bring the life back to his beautiful eyes and bring back that smile she treasured more than life itself.

  In this world of elegance, history, and sedate superiority… Jolie knew she would have to do something extravagant to get his attention. She didn’t want to just say hello; she wanted to knock him off his knees and stand out from the parade of eligible women that were saying hello to him by the older woman standing nearby.

  Max’s mother.

  The woman looked incredibly intimidating and reminded her of Queen Elizabeth, completely proper and regal in her domain. She couldn’t compete with the women she was bringing before her son but had a leg up on the game. Jolie intended to win Max’s heart—with or without his mother’s approval. Disappearing backwards, she headed back towards the small orchestra and grinned as a plan was coming together.

  “Maximus smile,” his mother said firmly, pinching the back of his arm as a reminder that this was his duty to meet and marry someone eligible—preferably soon. “This is Sofia Parneappethos and her family owns several restaurants here in the city. Sofia, this is my son and heir, Maximus Georgas.”

  “A pleasure,” he replied, bowing politely.

  Max listened idly as his mother made small talk with the woman as his eyes scanned the crowd. He was looking for his uncle or father, hoping and praying that someone would come rescue him from this abhorrent parade of women. His mother would never understand that he didn’t really care to meet any of them, because none of them were Jolie.

  “Mother, may I be excused,” he interrupted. “I will get us some refreshments.”

  “Why don’t you grab one for yourself and Sofia?”

  “Certainly,” he said tightly, bowing slightly, and stepping away.

  Max darted quickly away towards the bar and asked for a drink. He had no intention of returning to his mother’s side anytime soon, nor with a drink for the other woman. He would feign illness if needed in order to get away from this nightmare.

  Throwing back a sip of ouzo, he winced as the spirits burned down his gut and left a faint herbal scent in his nose. It was nothing sweet like the strawberry concoction he’d had on the beach with Jolie and every time he smelled the fragrant scent; he thought of her.

  “Another,” Max asked politely, tapping on the glass. The faint sounds of music faded away, and he wished for the loud disco music once again. At least that music made you feel something other than numb. Swirling the liquid in his glass again, he drank it down again and welcomed the burning sensation this time. Stunned, he heard the faint chords of a disco song by ABBA being played off key. He set his glass down and turned to see what was going on…

  Jolie couldn’t think of anything else that maybe the band would know. When she started rattling off song titles, they all seemed to perk up when she got to Dancing Queen by ABBA. The orchestra started nodding and talking among themselves, happily smiling. Before she knew it, they were playing and the time for doubt was over. She would make her entrance apparently to this song and hope to the heavens she didn’t get thrown out or arrested.

  Grabbing her skirt, she boldly headed for the middle of the dance floor and prayed she wasn’t alone too long. Max had enjoyed dancing so much, and this seemed like the appropriate way to get him to break out of his shell. The surrounding people backed away as she danced carelessly, swirling around to create a big circle of fabric from her skirt and put her arms above her head.

  “Jolie?” she heard Max’s beloved shocked voice from nearby. She saw the disbelief on his face, the yearning in his eyes, as he stood there on the edge of the crowd. She wasn’t about to let him retreat into his shell now that she had his attention finally.

  Smiling, she stuck out her hand towards him.

  “I’m here looking for my partner,” she said simply. “Care to dance with me?”

  The chorus of the song seemed to escalate to a crescendo and keeping beat with her heart as his hand suddenly locked onto hers. She felt like her soul would explode with joy as he grinned, bursting out laughing, and spun her around the room carelessly. Augustus suddenly appeared nearby, smiling and nodding towards her, dancing with a woman she assumed was his wife.

  “What are you doing here?” Max asked happily.

  “I told you,” she teased. “You didn’t hear me?”

  “You want me for your partner?”

  Jolie swallowed thickly at seeing the love blossom in Max’s eyes as he realized she wasn’t referring to a dance partner—but her partner in life. He spun her around again, curling her against him as his arms wrapped around her waist. They swayed bodily together, smiling at each other before he spun her again, this time pulling her into his arms, facing him.

  “I missed you, Max,” she admitted.

  “I love you so much,” Max confessed before kissing her right there in the middle of the dance floor. His lips pressed tightly against hers, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, unwilling to let him go. They were still swaying to the music of their hearts, not even listening to whatever was playing now, or anyone around them. He tasted like what she would imagine heaven would taste like if it was here on earth in Greece.

  “Maximus Aegeus Georgas,” she heard what she assumed was Max’s mother’s scandalized voice, interrupting them. Jolie smiled against his lips before pulling back to face the woman that raised the man she adored.

  “Hello, my name is Jolie Murray, and it’s nice to meet you.”

  Jolie stuck out a hand, clenching Max’s hand in hers behind her back as she put herself between Max and his mother, who was glaring daggers at her son right now. The woman ignored Jolie’s hand and looked over her head at Max.

  “Ftiachneis mia skini! Pola einai afti I gynaika?”

  Jolie would not be disarmed or stopped—Max said he loved her, and that was enough to give her the boost of confidence she needed to take on the world.

  “Hi, I’m Jolie—remember? I’m over here and speak English,” Jolie said gently with a warm smile. “I think we will be brilliant friends because we both love Max and want him happy, right?”

  “Matera, this is the woman that crossed oceans for me and I love her more than anything,” Max said softly, looking down at Jolie as she stared up at him, touched by his words. “I want Jolie to marry me when she’s ready.”

  “You do?” Jolie whispered, staring into his eyes and stunned by the love in his tender, beloved expression.

  “I do,” he affirmed, not looking away from her and speaking candidly towards his mother who she knew was still standing nearby in stony silence. “Matera, I am ready to take over everything and learn it all… but only if Jolie is by my side.”

  Jolie nodded, unable to speak.

  “I love you,” she finally said thickly, rubbing her nose against his as he pressed his forehead to hers, kissing her tenderly. Max finally stood tall, looking at his mother.

  “Matera, may I present Jolie Murray, my fiancée.”

  Max’s mother stood there for several moments, and she saw Augustus nod out of the corner of her eye as she looked at the other woman. A tall man that resembled an older version of Max walked up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder, and whispering something.
r />   “It’s very lovely to meet you,” Jolie repeated, extending her hand.

  “And you, Jolie,” his mother finally said quietly, her eyes filling with unshed tears. At first Jolie thought she might be so mad that she was crying, but when she spoke again, Jolie realized it was quite the opposite.

  “In Greece, we hug our family here,” she said. “I am Helena. Welcome to our home.” She eagerly gathered Jolie into her arms.

  Jolie went willingly into the welcoming hug as Max joined in, surrounded by the person she had assumed was Max’s father, his uncle, and several other family members. A massive cheer went up around them and Jolie realized she was now a part of their world, Max’s world, and together they would find a way to make this all work. She turned to smile at him, knowing that she’d made the right decision she saw the light and love in his eyes, knowing it was there just for her.

  “Let’s dance, my partner,” he said tenderly.

  “Always.”

  Epilogue

  Jolie lounged back under the shade of the awning and marveled at the sleeping dark-haired cherub in her arms. Elena was six months old and a treasure to behold. Bright blue eyes and dark silky hair that reminded her of Max so very much. The last four years had been blissful as she found her place in this world. They split their time between learning to be a part of the company, enjoying their alone time together, or being a part of their intimate family here on the Adventure where they could relax as a family unit.

  She kept a basket full of toys on the ship and it wasn’t unusual to fish one of the Hot Wheels out from underfoot when they were lounging below decks watching the fish through the clear bottom basin of the massive boat. Her son, Jase, was as gentle and loving as his father—but definitely resembled her more. His bright blond hair was bleached by the sun and he had her dark brown eyes.

  “Matera, I want to go swim with Papa… please?”

  “Where’s your life-vest, Jase?”

  “Aww matera, Papa doesn’t wear one,” he pouted and stomped his little foot in aggravation. Jolie had to bite back a smile. Maybe there was a bit more of her to him than she ever realized, she thought proudly and glanced up to see her Greek god of a husband lifting himself out of the water.