by Dakota Rebel
Table of Contents
Title Page
The Barista and the Billionaire
Copyright
Thank You!
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Epilogue
Epilogue
About the Author
The Barista and the Billionaire
By Dakota Rebel
Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC
www.supernovaindie.com
Powered by Your Imagination
The Barista and the Billionaire
by
Dakota Rebel
Chloe:
I didn’t even want to go to this New Year’s Eve party. But there I was, decked out in a borrowed dress, trying to avoid a stranger who’d set his eyes on me the moment I walked into the room. In an effort to escape, I ran into the arms of the most handsome man I’d ever seen in real life. And from the moment our gazes locked, I knew I’d never be the same.
Oliver:
I mean, what man doesn’t want to be the hero of a gorgeous woman? When Chloe threw herself at me, begging me to pretend we were together, I immediately wondered who was pretending. I didn’t know who she was, or what she was doing at my party, but I knew without a doubt that she belonged to me. Now I just have to convince her.
Copyright
© 2019, Dakota Rebel
The Barista and the Billionaire
Cover Art by Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC
Edited by Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC
Published by: Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC
Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.
Thank You!
Thank you for your purchase of The Barista and the Billionaire by Dakota Rebel. We hope you’ve enjoyed the story and will consider leaving a review and telling a friend.
Dakota loves hearing from readers! Please visit her website at dakotarebel.net.
Chapter One
~ Chloe James ~
“I’m not going to some stupid New Year’s Eve party!” I stared at my Aunt Dot, hands on my hips, glaring. “I can pick up a shift that night and make double time.”
“You’re wasting your youth in that terrible coffee shop,” Dot said, waving her hand as if dismissing my words. “You should be going out and having fun. You’re twenty years old. Live a little.”
“I live just fine,” I argued. “I’ll have you know I have a very active social life.”
“Your cat, Ben and Jerry, and Buffy reruns are not a social life.”
What the actual fuck? How dare she call me out like that? I looked around and noticed several people were carefully trying to look as if they weren’t eavesdropping.
I brushed past my aunt, wiping down a nearby table and trying to breathe some calm into my lungs. She could get me worked up faster than anyone on the planet. My mom always said it was because Dot and I were so much alike. But I never saw it. My aunt was wild, and I much prefer a quiet, sedate life.
“Chloe.” Dot put her hand on my shoulder and urged me to turn to face her. “Please. As a favor to me. I’ll buy you a new a dress, and we’ll get your hair and nails done. We’ll make a whole night of it. Don’t you want to kick this year to the curb in style? Just this once?”
Honestly, kicking this year anywhere sounded pretty good. It’d been a rough one, to be sure. I’d lost a great paying job and been forced to work almost constantly at the corner coffeehouse. The job wasn’t that bad, but it was difficult to get used to being on my feet all day. I’d had to max out my credit cards to pay rent and buy food before I’d gotten this gig, and I was just starting to make a dent in paying off all that debt.
“Where is this party?” I asked, unable to resist smiling at the grin that lit up Dot’s face.
“It’s at my friend Ollie’s house, over on Lakeshore Drive.”
“As in Grosse Pointe Shores?” My smile faded immediately. “Who the fuck do you know who lives there?”
“Watch your language,” Dot scolded. “I told you. My friend Ollie lives there.” She rooted around in her purse before pulling out an invitation and thrusting it into my hands. “I’ll pick you up at four, and we’ll go to the salon. Then I’ll drop you off to change and meet you at the party.”
She walked off before I could argue further. I stared down at the ivory parchment with gold debossed lettering. What in the hell had I just gotten myself into?
* * * *
“What the fuck did I get myself into?” I asked aloud as I pulled up the mile-long driveway toward the biggest house I’d ever seen. It looked like something straight out of Beverly Hills. It was gray stone with turrets and columns lining the front—or, I guess the back, since it sat on Lake St. Clair. If I hadn’t been stuck between other cars pulling up toward the honest-to-God valet station, I’d have turned around and gone home.
I couldn’t imagine how Dot knew this person. As far as I knew, none of her friends had this kind of money. And I’d never heard her mention anyone named Ollie before.
When the valet opened my door for me, I held my head high, trying like hell not to be embarrassed by the older model Chevy that stood out like beacon against the BMWs and Mercedes around it. The valet didn’t even blink, though. He just pointed toward the entrance of the house and wished me a good evening.
At least, I looked like a million bucks. The skin-tight, black, floor-length gown Dot had shoved me into probably cost the equivalent of a month’s pay for me, but she’d insisted she’d gotten a steal on it. I just prayed she hadn’t actually stolen it.
The moment I walked into the house, I couldn’t help hearing the chorus of Reba McIntyre’s Fancy. My god, had my aunt dolled me up and sent me off to land some rich guy? The thought turned my stomach and my heel, and I immediately headed back toward the door. But I was stopped by a hand on my arm.
“You’re new,” a man said.
“Excuse me?” I looked up at him as I yanked my arm free.
“Sorry,” he said, looking chagrined. “I just meant I haven’t seen you around here before.”
“Oh, do you need to see my invitation?” Smooth, Chloe.
“No.” He laughed. “I’m sure you’re fine. Even if you didn’t have one, you could be my plus one.”
“That’s sweet,” I lied, taking a step back. “But I’m already someone’s plus one.” I glanced around the room, my gaze roaming as I searched for my aunt, but she didn’t seem to have arrived yet. “If you’ll excuse me, I really must be finding my date.”
“Sure,” he said. “I’ll catch up with you later. We’ll have to dance.”
I walked quickly away, not wanting to encourage him at all. He wasn’t bad looking, but he just gave off a vibe I didn’t care for. Sort of a God’s-gift-to-women thing. Not my jam.
The house was full of beautiful people. As I wandered through the crowds, I was once again struck by how very much I didn’t belong there. I reached the edge of the room and noticed the glass doors were open to the yard, with the lake beyond it glittering in the moonlight. Entranced, I stepped outside, out of the crush of people and din of sound, curious how the
doors could be flung open like that in the dead of winter.
There was a three-piece orchestra playing softly on the lawn under a massive enclosed tent, and I stood transfixed by the peace of the moment. There were massive heaters keeping everyone toasty, and a buffet of food spread out for anyone who might be peckish while enjoying the splendor. Being rich was just a whole different world.
“Hey gorgeous,” the man from earlier called out. “I’ve been looking for you. How about that dance?”
I looked around in desperation, spotting a man standing alone at the edge of the patio. Rushing over to him, I threw my arms around him and whispered. “I’m Chloe. Pretend you’re my date.”
Chapter Two
~ Oliver Davis ~
I’d been seriously considering going upstairs and locking myself in my room until everyone left. I hate parties. The people traipsing all over my house, eating all my shrimp before I even get any, and fawning over me like idiots.
But the night was looking up as a fiery little minx threw herself at me.
“I’m Chloe. Pretend you’re my date,” she said.
With pleasure.
I held her in my arms and hugged her tightly, before glancing up to see who she was trying to avoid. A chuckle escaped before I could stop it.
“Peyton, you trying to mack on my girl?” I asked him.
“Sorry, dude,” my brother said, holding his hands up. “Didn’t realize she was taken.”
“That’s not an excuse,” I chastised him. “She obviously didn’t want your attention. Now, apologize to Chloe and go find some girl who wants to fall all over you.”
“Sorry, Chloe,” Peyton said, bowing slightly. “I meant no disrespect.”
He walked off, and I looked down at the armful of woman I held. I didn’t recognize her at all. Not that I knew everyone at the party. Far from it. But someone this gorgeous should have drawn my attention before tonight.
“Thank you,” she said, pulling back and smiling softly. “I apologize if that was rude.”
“Not at all,” I assured her. “It’s kind of nice to be the hero. Even if I’m only protecting you from my harmless brother.”
“Brother?” Even in the dim light from the torches surrounding the patio I could see her cheeks turn pink. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. He was wrong. He meant no disrespect. He’s just kind of a doofus.” I took her hand in mine and led her back toward the house. “Have you eaten? I think the chef hid some shrimp for me in the kitchen. We could grab a drink and get to know each other.”
“Sure,” she said, biting her lip between her teeth. “Is this your house?”
“Yeah. I’m Oliver Davis. I take it you didn’t know that?”
She shook her head. “I’m a little bit out of my element here. My aunt invited me, but she hasn’t shown up yet. I don’t know anyone else.”
“Well, now, you know me,” I assured her. I grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter and pressed it into her free hand. “Come on. I’m starving.”
I led her through throngs of people, only stopping to greet someone when I absolutely had to, and even then, I was pretty short with them. I just wanted to be alone with Chloe.
She had me tied up in knots. This strange, beautiful woman shows up at my house, doesn’t know a soul, throws herself into my very willing arms and embarrasses my brother. Well, she couldn’t really be more perfect.
Finally, we made it to the kitchen, and when I shut the door, the party sounds died away. We were alone at last. I motioned for her to sit on a barstool at the island while I rummaged through the refrigerator in search of the secret stash of food Chef Markus always left for me on party nights.
“I only have cold stuff,” I said, pulling out containers and setting them on the island in front of her. “But I could probably cook you something if you want me to. Or, I could rustle up my cook and have him do it if you want something actually edible.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Really, you don’t have to go through any trouble. Shouldn’t you be out there with your guests?”
“I’d much rather be in here with you,” I admitted. I finally found the shrimp tray I wanted and pulled it out, kicking the fridge door shut behind me before claiming the stool next to Chloe. “So, tell me everything about yourself.”
“Everything?” She raised an eyebrow at me. “There isn’t a lot to tell. I’m Chloe James, I live in Dearborn Heights, and I’m a barista at a small coffee shop.”
“That’s it, huh?” I shook my head. “No way. What’s your favorite movie? Who’s your favorite author? Where do you want to vacation? How many kids do you want?”
“Whoa!” She slid off her stool and held her hands out in front of her defensively. “Slow down there, tiger.”
“What?” I got to my feet and pulled her against me. “Come on. We’ll dance and we’ll talk. Just get to know each other.”
“There’s no music,” she whispered.
“Alexa, play Etta James At Last,” I called out. When the notes started through the speaker on the counter, I winked down at her. “See, music.” I wrapped my arm around her waist. “See, dancing.” I ran a hand through her thick, caramel-colored hair. “See, talking.”
But we weren’t talking. Her body swayed with mine, her shoulders finally relaxing so she melted into my arms. I could’ve held her forever.
As we danced, I thought about something my Gran had said to me a long time ago. My parents were concerned because I’d never pursued any of the girls who constantly tried to get my attention. I didn’t connect with anyone, so I didn’t bother to try. Gran understood. She always told me that I’d know when the time came, and that love couldn’t be rushed.
She said she knew the moment she saw my grandfather, and he was it for her. They were married within a month.
Holding on to Chloe in the middle of my kitchen, I knew Gran was right. The only woman meant for me had run straight into my arms out of nowhere. She was mine, and I was hers. I knew it to the depths of my soul.
Now, I just had to convince Chloe.
Chapter Three
~ Chloe ~
God, why did he smell so good? My cheek was pressed to Oliver’s shoulder, his arms wrapped firmly around me, and I just wanted to melt into a big, fancy puddle. He was so firm. I didn’t think I’d ever felt a man with such hard arms. Not that I’d touched a lot of guys arms. Or any guys.
I could get used to this.
The thought snapped me back to reality. No, no, I could not get used to this. My body tensed up, and I stepped away from Oliver.
“You should really get back to your party,” I insisted. “And I should probably go.”
“Go?” Oliver looked at me with a crooked eyebrow. “You can’t leave before midnight. It’s bad luck.”
I was pretty sure that wasn’t true. But maybe, tempting fate wasn’t a good idea.
“Okay, fine,” I agreed reluctantly. “But your guests are probably wondering where you’ve gotten to.”
“Baby, do you really think you were the only one here tonight with no clue who I am? They know my name, but I’ve walked past them a hundred times tonight, and five people recognize me on sight. Three of them I’m related to. Trust me, as long as the booze is flowing, no one is even thinking about me.”
“Well, I don’t believe that for a second,” I argued. “A rich, handsome man who opens his beautiful home to people. How could anyone not be thinking of you?”
“Chloe, I only care if you’re thinking about me.” He pulled me back into his arms, and we began to dance again.
I stared up into his eyes and allowed myself to think, just for a minute, that this was a man I could spend the rest of my life with.
Then I shut down that shit. Like Elsa says, you can’t marry a man you just met. I knew nothing about this guy, and there was no way in hell a man like him would ever fall in love with me. He was like a kajillionaire or something, and I was a barista. Not exactly two worlds that intersect past e
ight a.m. on a weekday.
“Where did you go?” he asked.
“Sorry,” I said, pulling away from him again. “Just thinking.”
“Not good.” He snagged me by the waist and curled me into his body again. “No thinking. Just dancing. Maybe, kissing.”
My breath hitched, and before I could even exhale, his mouth was on mine. I absolutely melted; my body molded against his as his tongue slipped between my parted lips. I had zero experience here…but it was a damn good kiss.
“There,” he whispered, his breath feathering over my face. “Isn’t that better than thinking?”
Well, sure. Except now, my mind raced a thousand miles per hour. He kissed me. What did I do now? Did he want to have sex with me? Did I want to have sex with him?
“Are you okay?” he asked, snapping me from my panic.
“Yes. Thank you for the lovely kiss. I’ve never been kissed before, so that was really nice.” I was babbling, and I had to snap my jaw shut to keep from rambling further.
Oliver’s gaze visibly darkened as I spoke, and he looked kind of predatory…and hot as hell.
“That was your first kiss?”
I nodded, backing up a step. He advanced toward me, not letting me get any extra room between us. My heart pounded, and if I was completely honest, my panties were soaked. I’d never wanted to have sex with anyone, but in that moment, I wanted Oliver to be my first everything. And that terrified me.
“Don’t look so scared,” he whispered, brushing a hair off my cheek. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. You took me by surprise is all. If that was your first kiss…well, that tells me you’re completely unspoiled. No other man has touched you. And that makes me want to touch you. Very, very much. Not that I didn’t feel that way before.” Oliver carded his fingers into my hair, tilting my face so he could stare down into my eyes. “But now, I have to have you. Tell me you feel this. Tell me you want me, Chloe. Please.”
Of course, I wanted him. Who wouldn’t want him? But I didn’t know him. And Obviously, I wasn’t someone who sleeps with men…at all. Let alone a guy I’d just met, in his kitchen, in the middle of a party.
