by Anne, Melody
OTHER TITLES BY MELODY ANNE
BILLIONAIRE AVIATORS
Turbulent Intentions
Turbulent Desires
Turbulent Waters
Turbulent Intrigue
BILLIONAIRE BACHELORS
The Billionaire Wins the Game
The Billionaire’s Dance
The Billionaire Falls
The Billionaire’s Marriage Proposal
Blackmailing the Billionaire
Runaway Heiress
The Billionaire’s Final Stand
Unexpected Treasure
Hidden Treasure
Holiday Treasure
Priceless Treasure
The Ultimate Treasure
UNDERCOVER BILLIONAIRES
Kian
Arden
Owen
Declan
ANDERSON BILLIONAIRES
Finn
Noah
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2020 by Melody Anne
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542017060
ISBN-10: 1542017068
Cover design by Letitia Hasser
This book is dedicated to Sarah Huff. I’m so grateful for strong women like you in my life. Your love, strength, and raw determination are an inspiration for us all. Oh, and maybe, just maybe, we’ll bring ya with us on the next Canada trip. : )
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
EPILOGUE
AUTHOR’S NOTE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PROLOGUE
“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas . . .”
Several heads turned, and a few people chuckled as the deep baritone voice belted out the first line of the song seemingly every person around the world hummed, sang, or whistled as the warm weather turned cold and December crept up before anyone was ready.
“How are you doing today, Mr. Anderson?” Chloe Hitman asked as she wiped a cloth across the pristine wood counter in front of Joseph Anderson. She clearly could see he was in a mighty fine mood this cold December first.
He had big plans for Chloe. She was a fighter, but for anyone to think they could battle him was downright laughable. Joseph had yet to fail when he truly wanted something. And he was sitting at the bar of Chloe’s beautifully redone restaurant with a plan of action.
He was in the mood for a wedding.
“I’m wonderful,” he told her. “Now you tell me—what did you do with these counters?” he asked.
She grinned, the smile lighting up the dimly lit place. She’d owned it for only about six months, and she’d already made magic happen. It was difficult to get a table without reservations . . . unless you were Joseph Anderson, of course.
“I went to this amazing wine bar in Oregon, of all places, and saw a counter with lights embedded in it. I knew I had to make it happen, so voilà, here it is,” she said. She’d been involved in every single detail of this place, and it showed. She took pride in all she did. That was why Joseph wanted her, and only her, to finish up his kitchen at the veterans center that he’d been involved in each step of the way.
“It looks like constellations,” he told her as he looked a bit closer.
She clapped her hands. “Exactly!” she exclaimed. “I wanted something unique that would fascinate people.”
“So you want to keep them sitting here for hours?” Joseph said.
“Yep. I want them to have a great experience from the time they walk through the front doors until they step back outside. I want them to feel they can sit here all night.”
“I love the way you think,” Joseph said as he pulled out a cigar.
“Now, Joseph, I know you don’t often hear the word no, but you know there’s no smoking inside,” she said with a chuckle as she shook her finger at him.
He sighed as he held the fine cigar in his fingers.
“Of course I know that. I just like to hold it while I sip a fine glass of scotch,” he said.
She chuckled. He truly had picked well when he’d chosen her. She was a true gem.
“It would be amazing to live a life without rules. I can’t imagine what it feels like,” she said.
“I follow the rules,” Joseph assured her. “I just tend to make up my own as well.”
That got another laugh from her. “I can’t imagine what this world would be like without rules,” she said. “As much as I complain about them, I do appreciate law and order.”
“And if there weren’t rules, it wouldn’t be any fun to break them,” Joseph said.
“That’s a very good point,” she said. “Now, let’s get down to it. What has you in my place on a Thursday night? You’re a busy man, and I’m surprised to see you all alone.”
“Am I bothering you?” he asked.
Her eyes widened. “Not at all,” she quickly assured him. “It’s always a pleasure to visit.” Then she smiled. “Though I have been warned about you.”
His smile fell away as his eyes narrowed. “Warned?” he said.
She laughed, not at all falling for his usual tricks. He might have to be a little more cautious around this one. He liked it a lot.
“Yes, I’ve been warned that you like to meddle in people’s lives. And I’ve definitely been told when you’re acting all innocent is when you’re the most dangerous.”
She placed a hand on her slender hip and gave him a smiling challenge. He was truly going to enjoy taking her down. He couldn’t even imagine what fun her and Brandon’s children would be. They were both smart, funny, and beautiful. Those kids were going to be a delight.
“The fact that I enjoy helping out those I care about has nothing to do with meddling. I just like to get things done, and I pick the best of the best to accomplish that. Does my track record for success say anything less?” he challenged.
She sighed. “No one can say you don’t have the golden touch.”
“Exactly!” he exclaimed as his fist hit the counter, making the person to his right jump in her seat. Chloe laughed again.
“Don’t be scaring my customers,” she warned. She stepped over to the woman and refilled her drink. Joseph hadn’t had this much fun in a while. He was definitely going to be hanging out at thi
s place more often.
She came back and refilled his scotch. He pulled out the contract he’d been carrying with him for a while.
“You’ve done amazing with this place. Now it’s time to give back to the community,” he told her.
She warily eyed the document before meeting his gaze, challenge in her eyes.
“I told you I don’t have time to do the kitchen at the veterans center,” she said.
“And I told you I want the best. Look what you’ve done with this place in less than six months. Don’t you think the poor men and women who’ve served our country deserve what only you can give them?”
“Playing on my heartstrings?” she questioned.
“I’m just wanting to give back,” he said as he took a sip of his drink. It was damn fine.
“Why do you want me to do this so badly?” she asked. And he knew right then that he had her. He leaned back, feeling pretty dang good about it.
“I told you—I only hire the best.”
“Fine. I’ll read the contract,” she said, and he grinned. But she held up a finger. “I said I’d read it. That doesn’t mean I’m committing to it.”
Before Joseph could reply, Chloe’s shoulders tensed as her gaze was directed behind him. He knew that look. He was curious to see what had brought out the expression.
Joseph turned to see a very attractive, well-put-together woman approaching. She glanced his way before her eyes focused once more on Chloe. She moved to them and gracefully sat down on the stool next to Joseph.
He instantly liked the woman. Joseph had always told the masses he got a feel for a person within the first few seconds, usually before any words were even spoken. It was all in their attitude and the way they held themselves. He admired confidence and drive. This woman had them in spades. The resemblance between her and Chloe told him she was most likely her mother.
The day just kept getting better and better.
“Hello, Chloe,” the woman said in a polished, autocratic voice. She was used to getting her way and used to people listening to her. She looked slightly familiar, but Joseph couldn’t quite place her.
“Hello, Mother,” Chloe said, her shoulders stiff. There wasn’t a lot of warmth between the two of them, but Joseph still liked the woman. He could see respect and love there but also a wall. There was a story here he truly wanted to learn.
“Mother, this is Joseph Anderson. Joseph, this is my mother, Genevieve Hitman.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Hitman,” Joseph said as he held out a hand.
“Please, call me Genevieve. The pleasure is all mine,” she smoothly said.
He smiled. “Now I know why you look so familiar,” he said. “You own the culinary school. I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to put it together.” He frowned for a moment. He liked to know everything about the people surrounding him, and he should’ve realized who Chloe’s parents were long ago. That was foolish of him, but in his defense, Chloe never spoke of her parents. He wanted to find out why.
“Yes, my husband and I do,” she said.
“Do you want a glass of wine?” Chloe asked.
“Yes, darling,” Genevieve said. Chloe didn’t ask which kind. She obviously knew what her mother drank.
Chloe pulled out a fresh bottle of red and began pouring while Joseph faced her mother. He had so many questions but didn’t know where to start. That was a first for him.
“What brings you out to our small town?” Chloe asked as she set the glass in front of her mother.
“I haven’t seen you in a month,” Genevieve said, the words sounding like a bit of a scolding. It was well placed, in Joseph’s opinion. A child should visit their parents much more often than monthly.
“I’m sorry, Mother. I’ve been swamped with the restaurant,” Chloe said.
“It seems to be doing well,” Genevieve said. Though she was barely looking around. Even as she said this, she looked at the counter and frowned. “Do you have a rag?”
Chloe sighed as she grabbed a rag and began to wipe the counter. “I’ve got it, darling,” Genevieve said.
Joseph noticed how Chloe clenched her jaw, but she handed over the cloth, and Genevieve wiped over the area Chloe had just swiped, then proceeded to clean the entire counter in front of her.
“A clean surface is the first step in all preparation of food,” Genevieve said.
“Yes, I know, Mother. You’ve said that since I was a child,” Chloe said as she took the rag back.
Chloe looked at Joseph again. “Along with owning the school, my mother is also a world-renowned food critic. She can make or break a new facility.”
Genevieve laughed before taking another sip of her wine. “I wouldn’t say I have that much power,” she said. But Joseph had a feeling she did indeed have it. He could see it by the way she carried herself.
“And what does your father do?” Joseph asked.
Chloe smiled. “He’s a chef and has a line of high-end restaurants.”
“That’s quite the combination,” Joseph told her. “Did you always want to go into the family business?”
Chloe’s shoulders stiffened. “This is my restaurant, not one of my father’s.”
Those words made her mother frown. “Your father always wanted to go into business with you,” she said. It was obvious this was a point of contention between them.
“It’s always wonderful to have the kids work with us, but also it gives me enormous pride when I see my family members striking out on their own,” Joseph said.
“Sometimes a wiser person knows when to strike out and when to join,” Genevieve said.
Interesting, Joseph thought. He liked this woman. He could see her character beneath the very uptight demeanor. He wanted to know more.
“Are you going to offer me a menu?” Genevieve asked.
“Is it for a family visit or for your paper?” Chloe asked.
“You know it would be unethical for me to comment on your business. Of course, I’d be biased.”
Chloe gave a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “No, Mother, I don’t think there’d be any bias at all,” she said as she pulled out a menu.
Joseph would’ve never thought Chloe’s mother would be who she was. Chloe was full of warmth and a lot of vinegar. Her mother looked as if she didn’t often, if ever, let go and smell the roses. He wanted to dive in and learn so much more about them.
And he would.
In his later years of life Joseph had learned he didn’t need to be in a hurry. Slow and steady truly did win the race.
“As much as I want to sit here and keep visiting, I have an appointment I can’t miss,” Joseph said as he threw down an exorbitant amount of money for his couple of drinks. Chloe tried to protest, but he ignored her as he stood and looked at Genevieve. “It truly was a pleasure. I look forward to next time.”
“Me as well,” Genevieve said.
Joseph leaned in, then slid the papers closer to Chloe, letting her know he hadn’t forgotten about his reason for being there. She took them with another long-suffering sigh.
“Thank you for coming, Joseph. Remember that I just said I’d look at them. This is in no way a done deal.” He smiled at her before turning and walking away.
She could say whatever it was she wanted. He knew he’d won. He might as well start planning the wedding to his nephew to save time later. Then by this time next year he could be holding a new grandniece or grandnephew in his lap while the Christmas presents were being opened.
Yes, it truly was beginning to look a lot like Christmas, and as long as a mystery was there to be solved and love was in the air, he was getting exactly what he wanted each and every year.
CHAPTER ONE
Was time anyone’s friend? Brandon Anderson wasn’t sure. They said time healed all wounds. That was partly true. It was sort of like that scar on his leg from when he’d had a perfect grand slam. He’d slid into the base after sending three of his teammates home. The ball had hit the cat
cher’s mitt as he’d done his best to knock the guy over.
And he’d been the victor, securing their national championship 12–11. His teammates had carried him on their shoulders from the plate as blood had dripped down his calf. He hadn’t even realized the injury would get him six stitches until the adrenaline had slowed. But the scar remained to this day.
Time marching on was like that. He’d lost his mother, the single-most devastating day of his life. It had been two years, and there were times he’d still feel such an ache it took all he had not to shed a tear. But then he’d have moments of remembering something amazing about her, and he’d smile so big his cheeks would hurt.
He’d also gained a family on that tragic day. He knew it had been his mother’s way of letting her sons know they’d never be alone. Even in her dying moments she’d been sacrificing, giving to her children. That was who she’d always been. That was who she was now that she was in heaven. She’d gone too soon, but there was no way she’d be forgotten.
He’d been angry for a while, but his sense of humor and love of life had been what his mother had loved most about him—according to her. He wouldn’t dishonor her memory by changing who he was.
During that first year after Brandon had lost his mother, he’d made mistakes—several, in fact. But then he’d met Chloe. He smiled as he thought about the spitfire of a woman who’d made it more than clear she wanted nothing to do with him.
Brandon had always loved women, from the time he’d been in first grade and talked one of his classmates into holding his hand. He’d loved all girls until he’d become a man; then he’d loved women. They were everything he wasn’t, and nothing made him happier than making one smile.
But Chloe was unlike any woman he’d ever met before. She was confident and sexy, funny and stubborn. She’d intrigued him, and the second she’d told him not to get any ideas, it had been like a red flag waved in front of a bull. He’d wanted to win her over. He wasn’t a man to take by force. No, he’d much rather win her with charm. He had no doubt he could do it.
There was a part of him that felt guilty to live his life and find happiness when his mother couldn’t do the same. But when he did feel bad, he knew he was doing what she’d want him to do, and she would smack him over the head if she knew he was living half a life because of grief.
