by Vivi Holt
The Billionaire’s Email-Order Date
A Christmas Romance
Vivi Holt
Black Lab Press
Contents
About the book
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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
Coming soon…
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Excerpt: The Billionaire’s Email-Order Bride
Excerpt: Home is Where the Heart Is
Also by Vivi Holt
About the Author
About the book
He needs a date to take home to the family ranch for Christmas. She needs the money.
A heartwarming, feel-good Christmas romance. You’ll laugh, cry, and fall in love with this touching, emotional and MAGICAL holiday story…
Billionaire businessman, Chris Everett, is successful, admired and in charge. Still reeling from his wife's death three years earlier, he's shut himself off to love and life. When he decides to follow his friend’s advice and take an email-order date home for Christmas he has no intention of letting his feelings get involved.
Kate Grant is a struggling artist without a family. Abandoned by her fiancé, the thought of facing the holidays alone again is more than she can bear. When Kate turns up at the Everett mansion with a Christmas-Gram to deliver, Chris mistakes her for his date and Kate can't say no to the ten thousand dollars on offer. A snow-white Christmas on a cozy ranch in Montana might be just the thing Kate needs to help her get through the holidays.
Chris soon learns that Kate is hiding more than one secret and, when uncovered, her deception could drive them apart for good. But snow-capped mountains, warm hearths, eggnog, and mistletoe work to draw together two lost souls for a happily ever after they never saw coming.
A heartwarming and festive romance about overcoming grief and loss, finding yourself and opening your heart to second chances. Perfect for fans of Debbie Mason, RaeAnne Thayne and Debbie Macomber.
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Chapter 1
Atlanta, Georgia
December 18th
The top of the Christmas tree folded under the weight of the star, sagging against its own thin trunk. The pine needles rustled as the full skirt of Kate Grant’s dress pushed against them. She reached up again and pushed the star into place. Once again, it deflated, then it fell from the tip of the tree and landed with a thud on her big toe, one of the sharp points leaving a mark on her flesh.
“Ouch!” she cried then lifted her foot to cradle it between her hands. She hopped about in a circle, her eyes squeezed shut, then aimed for the couch where she slumped down with a sigh. This was even worse than she’d predicted.
She’d called last year’s tree a Charlie Brown tree, but it had nothing on this year’s. She’d bought it last minute from the reject pile at Branson’s tree yard down the block. It was the one tree no one else wanted, and she’d felt a kinship with it that went beyond words. That was, until she had to lug it up the two flights of stairs to her apartment. And now, when she’d attempted to complete her sparse decorations with the star handed down to her from her grandmother—and the tree all but rejected the ornament—she decided that the connection had been lost and it was nothing but a pitiful tree that she should’ve left on the lot with the other rejects.
She frowned and regarded the room. The apartment was quiet without her roommate, Shanice Gold. Shanice had flown back to Chicago the day before to spend the holidays with her family, leaving Kate alone. Again.
It wasn’t as though it was anything new. She’d spent many a Christmas on her own, but for some reason, this year it stung a little more than it had before.
She sighed, letting her eyes drift shut. Just then, her cell phone rang, and her lids flew back open. She reached for the phone and pressed it to her ear, still slouched on the sofa, her dress splayed out around her legs.
“Hello?”
“Kate, it’s Shanice.”
“Hi, Shan. How’d the flight go?”
“It was fine. It’s cold up here! Phew!”
“I’ll bet. Were your parents happy to see you?”
Shanice chuckled. “They were so excited and surprised that I came early.”
“That was a nice thing you did.”
“You know, I really think you should reconsider my offer. Come up here, spend the holidays with my family. They don’t mind, honestly. I already spoke to Mom about it, and she’s happy for you to come.”
Kate’s lips pursed. As much as she loved Shanice’s family, the idea of imposing on someone else’s Christmas didn’t appeal to her. Their invitation was kind, but she knew she’d just be in the way. Holidays were for families, and if you were one of the unlucky ones without a family, you just had to try and make it through on your own. It was the way things were and had been ever since her parents’ accident six years earlier.
Kate shook her head. “I don’t want to impose…”
“Nonsense. I want you to come. I can’t bear the idea of you sitting in our apartment with that poor excuse for a tree on your own. Please think about it.”
She eyed the quiet living room, the sagging tree, the fridge she knew held nothing but some sliced turkey, a bag of bread rolls from the local bakery, a tomato, and a cucumber along with a carton of almost-gone milk.
“Well…if you don’t think I’d be in the way.”
Shanice’s voice bubbled with triumph. “Not at all. I’m really looking forward to having you here, and you can help me fend off the ex-boyfriend.”
Kate laughed. “I’m not entirely convinced you want to fend him off.”
“Please, girl, that ship has sailed. I’m not going back… If he wanted to marry me, he would’ve put a ring on my finger years ago.”
Kate could almost hear the sway of Shanice’s head, picture the proud look on her friend’s pretty face as she flared her nostrils the way she did whenever the subject of the nameless ex-boyfriend came up. He was forever the one who got away, though Shanice always made it seem as though she’d left him. Kate knew the real story and how much her roommate’s heart had suffered.
“Okay, well, since you need help with the ex, I guess I’ll just have to come.”
“Wonderful!” cried Shanice. “And I have just the guy for you to meet.”
Kate sighed, and her eyes rolled. “Seriously? Come on, I don’t want to be set up at Christmas with some guy I’ve never met before. And by the way, I know he must be sloppy seconds or you’d be all over him.”
Shanice’s laughter echoed down the line. “He’s fine. He’s a nice guy. He’s just not my type. Way too…square for me. But he’d suit you.”
“Wow, thanks,” Kate said, her voice deadpan. “So, in your mind I suit the too-square type, huh? I’ll have you know, I can be kooky and quirky and whatever is the opposite of square.”
“Don’t I know it? I live with you, girl.” Shanice laughed again.
“I mean it. Please don’t set me up with anyone. I’m enjoying the single life right now, taking time to get to know myself and…”
“Get to know
yourself? Honey, you’ve had twenty-five years to get to know yourself. If you ain’t done yet, there’s nothing gonna help you.” She chuckled at her own joke. “It’s time you got over that lousy former fiancé of yours. So, he cheated on you, that don’t mean that every guy you meet is gonna do the same. You’ve got to step out and trust again, or you’ll end up old and alone surrounded by cats. And let me tell you, cats don’t care whether you live or die. Is that what you want?”
“I know you’re right.” Kate sighed. “And I want to find someone. Eventually. I’m just not ready yet. Plus, it’s not like there are great guys waiting around every corner. Last time I looked, there was a distinct shortage of them in Atlanta.”
Shanice exhaled sharply. “Shoot! You’re right about that. I keep telling you, just come on back to church with me. That’s where all the good men are. I know we can both find someone in church. In fact, that can be our New Year’s resolution—to go to church together and find us a pair of good men to date.”
“Sounds like a plan.” It was the last thing Kate felt like doing. She hated the dating scene. Meeting someone, the awkward introductions, the first date where both parties did their best to ask the most banal questions possible, and then waiting for the phone call that might or might not come afterward. It was almost as bad as trudging around Atlanta in an attempt to secure a showing of her paintings in one of the many galleries scattered throughout the city—then waiting for the call that might be either life changing or soul crushing. She shuddered. After New Year’s, she’d just have to find a way to let Shanice down gently.
“Let me know what time you’re flying in, and I’ll come pick you up from the airport.”
“Okay, thanks.” Kate pushed herself off the sofa and wandered over to the tree. She eyed each branch—the carefully strung popcorn, the ornaments her grandmother had given her each year for Christmas when she was still alive, the drooping tip of the tree that refused to house her star.
She frowned, setting a hand on her hip. “I’ll call the airline shortly to set it up, but I have to deliver a few more Christmas-Grams over the next couple of days.”
“Are you still doing those?”
“Yep. They pay the bills. I’ve only got three to go this morning, and then two more tomorrow and three the next day, and I’ll be done. Apparently an elf delivering singing telegrams is the hot ticket holiday item this year.” She chuckled then hugged herself. If only it were true. She’d barely make enough to cover gifts for her friends and the extra on the heat bill to get her through the coldest part of winter.
“Well, take care and stay safe. You never know who you’re gonna meet going house to house and singing to strangers,” Shanice warned.
Kate picked the star up off the floor and aimed it at the drooping tip of the tree again. Maybe this time it’d stick. “Ain’t that the truth.”
Chapter 2
Chris Everett tugged the worn and wrinkled photograph from a hidden pocket in his wallet and stared at it. His heart constricted, but he pressed the rest of his emotional response down and pushed it back behind the wall of calm he’d built up around his heart over the past three long years.
He looked up to scan the room. Steve wasn’t there yet. The dim lighting of the restaurant hid most of its patrons from his view, but he could see the front door and reception area well enough to know if his friend had arrived.
His attention refocused on the picture. Her long brown hair shone in the bright sunshine. Sweat circles beneath her pits stained the underarms of the pale blue tank top she wore. The blue drew out the color of her warm, brown eyes that glinted with mischief and love. Her hiking boots were dark with water from the creek they’d just crossed, and the green of the north Georgia forest closed in around her.
The upward tilt of her head, the pull of her lips into a wide grin that revealed slightly crooked white teeth and crinkled the corners of her eyes brought memories of her laughter rushing back. Her laugh had lit up the world around her. His world.
Those memories were pushed down too and hidden behind the same wall as he sighed and shoved the photograph back into its pocket. His best friend, Steve Campbell, sat down with a grunt opposite him at the small, square table. One eyebrow arched, Steve studied him a moment and shook his head gently.
“It’s that time of year again. Huh?”
Had Steve seen the photo? He thought he’d hidden it quickly enough. There was nothing he wanted to discuss less in that moment than her, even with his closest friend. His throat ached for a single moment, then he nodded slowly.
“Yup.”
He met Steve’s hazel eyes with his own gaze and saw compassion in their depths.
“I know it’s hard for you…” his friend started.
“It is what it is.” His comment was brusque, harsh, and meant to shut down further conversation. Steve knew him well enough to understand but persisted anyway.
“Maybe it’s time to move on.”
“Move on? What does that even mean?” The flash of anger that accompanied his words burned in his gut then faded as quickly as it had come. “Sorry. I’m not angry with you. It’s just…you know I don’t like talking about it. About her.”
“You can say her name. You were married to Mia for five years, Chris. It might help you to talk about her. You never want to talk about what happened.”
“It won’t help. And you’re right. I don’t want to talk about it.” Steve wasn’t picking up on the hint. He seemed determined to make Chris address something he knew he couldn’t. Not at this time of year especially.
“The holidays are coming up, the anniversary of her death, you’ll have to face it. You can’t keep running from what happened.”
“I have faced it. I face it every day!” His voice rose in volume, and several other diners in the quiet, candlelit restaurant startled and glanced his way over their prime ribs and pork cutlets.
He shook his head as he reached for a menu. “What do you think I do every day when I wake up and she’s not next to me in bed? When I eat breakfast…alone? When I head home from work to an empty house? She’s not there, and I have to live with that fact every day of my life,” he hissed.
“I know you live with it, but you’ve never dealt with it.”
“What does that mean? I’m never going to be okay with what happened. It was my fault she died. Everything she could’ve been, done…” Chris’s voice broke, and he bit his lips together to hold at bay the sob he knew was coming.
He couldn’t break down, not here, not with all these people around. His grief was private, something he didn’t even allow himself to feel when he was on his own these days. If he were honest with himself, he was sick of it. Sick of his grief, sick of himself.
There wasn’t anything he could do to change the past, to bring her back, and he’d resolved himself to live with that. He had moved on, in a way. In his own way. He was living, every day, running a successful billion-dollar enterprise, managing thousands of staff, traveling all over the globe, making speeches and presentations and delivering strategies… He was living his life. Wasn’t that moving on? What did everyone expect from him?
“I know you mean well.” He sighed.
“I just care about you, man,” Steve said, looking concerned. “We both do, Sonja and I. We’re worried about you. There’s this woman who works with Sonja. She’s really nice, pretty, and successful at her job. She’s an architect too, like Sonja. We thought maybe you’d like—”
“No. No blind dates. I’m just not interested.”
“You haven’t even met her yet.”
A waiter hovered nearby, black menus stark against the fabric of his white apron. His face reflected uncertainty. The staff at the restaurant knew Chris on sight; they also knew he held them to high expectations, as he did everyone on his staff.
“Yes?” He fixed his attention on the server.
“Um…just wondering if you’d like something to start with?” The server’s voice wobbled with fear.
> “Calamari and a glass of Diet Coke. Then, I’d like a ribeye steak, medium, please.”
“A Cobb salad and mineral water for me, followed by a steak, medium-well. Thanks,” added Steve.
The server smiled gratefully and disappeared into the dimly lit restaurant. Chris suddenly became aware of the hum of conversation, the clink of silverware against china, and the soft melody emanating from a harpist in the far corner of the large room.
Chris leaned forward in his chair. “I don’t have to meet her. I’ve met them all, women from near and far, every walk of life. My mother has set me up, my brother, my grandmother, my aunts and uncles, you, colleagues from the office… Everyone seems to think I’m lonely and pathetic and in need of love. But none of them will do. Don’t you see? They’re not her. I married her, forever. That’s it. She’s gone. End of story.”
He flung himself back against the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. The meddling had to stop. He’d had enough. What was it about the second anniversary of her death that’d suddenly brought everyone’s focus onto his nonexistent love life and made them think they had to do something about it?
And now that the third anniversary was fast approaching, no doubt they’d double their efforts. It didn’t matter that everything they’d tried so far, every woman they’d thrown into his path, hadn’t won him over. They’d simply keep going.
“I expect this kind of thing from my mom. She wants grandchildren. But you? I thought you had my back.”
