The Billionaire’s Christmas Vows: A Jet City Billionaire Christmas Romance (4 page)

K
ayla

I was so relieved the baby was okay, and upset about being grounded before my time, that I almost forgot to be upset with Jus about not getting back to me. It was hard to believe now that this pregnancy was accidental. And that I hadn't wanted it at first. Not at all. At the time, it had meant I would be connected to Jus for life. And I hadn't been sure I wanted that. Now I loved him beyond reason.

So many people had branded me a gold digger for suddenly marrying Jus on the spur of the moment in Reno. Even though, of course, an imposter had married him, not me. When I got pregnant, it sealed that "she only married him for his money" opinion in everyone's mind. They were simply jealous. It seemed like every girl in Seattle wanted an adorable billionaire like Jus. I was "that little gold digger."

The best way to hang on to a share of a rich guy's fortune for life? Even after a messy divorce? Have his kid and hit him with child support for at least eighteen years. And make sure it was generous.

At first, and maybe still, popular opinion believed our marriage would fail. Many gave us no more than a few weeks to a month. We'd proved them wrong on that point. But anyone who was betting was still spouting the odds were we wouldn't make it past five years and this baby was my insurance for the future.

They didn't know, of course, how close we'd come to calling it quits. Or how we'd originally had a divorce scheduled for our one-year anniversary.

I texted Jus to ignore my earlier, frantic texts and calls, and headed home. Outside may have been dark with gray clouds, and gloomy, but inside Magda had the house lit and cheery. The Christmas trees were lit and the sound of voices on TV in the background. Our little dog, Data, barked happily and ran to greet me. I scooped her up. "Hey, girl."

Magda was in the kitchen. Her eyes lit up when she saw me. She gave me a hesitant look. "Mrs. Kayla? The baby?"

She'd seen my earlier panic and comforted me while I waited to get in to see my doctor.

"We're both fine." I smiled reassuringly. "Nothing serious. I just panicked."

"No. You were cautious. There's a difference."

I smiled, glad to have Magda around. "Something smells delicious."

"Your lunch. I'm making you a nice winter soup and homemade bread. You need to stay strong and healthy for the baby."

She was "watching" TV while she cooked. She was one of those people who liked the sound of voices constantly around her. She wasn't so much paying attention and watching as having the comforting sound in the background.

My head was whirring with wedding thoughts, but I was touched by her thoughtfulness and concern. "Yum. Can't wait. I have some work to do." Actually, I had a wedding to plan. I took my coat off and hung it in the closet. "I'll be in my office until lunch."

I took off my shoes and slipped into some comfy Christmas slipper socks I'd bought the day after Thanksgiving. They were, frankly, ridiculous, but adorable. And kind of sexy in a Christmasy, funky way. They were red and black Mrs. Claus socks, with white printed lace at the toes and a black belt wrapped around the ankle like an anklet. My silly side coming out.

Jus had a matching Mr. Claus pair he refused to wear. You would think someone with zero fashion sense like my husband would have been game for funny slipper socks. But no.
Killjoy
.

Anyway, these were the softest, most comfortable things I'd ever worn. I loved them and my classy, winter white knee-high slipper boots above all else. And alternated between them. But now that it was the holiday season, the Mrs. Claus socks were on extra duty.

I had a lot of thinking and planning to do. I wanted to be married
before
the baby was born. Just the two of us pledging our love and making things legal. A Christmas season wedding. In the snow in New York. Suddenly, it took on a romantic aura.

After the baby arrived, everything would be that much more complicated. And the wedding would have to wait until I'd gotten back into some semblance of shape and would be confident leaving the baby with someone. Getting married was, of course, complicated by having to keep it absolutely secret. I really didn't want a public recommitment ceremony for this. I'd rather do that someplace romantic. If we did it all.

No, I decided as I settled into my office and closed the door. I wouldn't let being grounded after Christmas thwart my plans. Jus had been in such a good mood after his Cyber Monday success. With the business running so smoothly, and safely in the black for the year, it suddenly seemed possible I could talk him into an overnight stay in New York to get married. It would be an
early
Christmas present. So why not?

The thought of a snowy December wedding was suddenly romantic. A real elopement. Yes, terribly romantic. Dex would be done with finals and home from college for Christmas break by the seventeenth. He was the one unromantic aspect of my plans. I loved my cousin, the little geek, but he was a prankster and I didn't want him doing anything to derail the lovely vision I had for my wedding.

A white maternity wedding dress with lace and crystals. A bouquet of white roses and poinsettias. I didn't even need to consult Pinterest for what I had in mind.

I glanced at the calendar on my desk. I would have to work fast. The seventeenth was a Wednesday. We could fly out on the eighteenth. Get our license that afternoon. Get married on the nineteenth…

Or would we have to wait until the twentieth? Damn that twenty-four-hour waiting period. Jus
might
be convinced to slip away for a
few
days, but the fewer, the better chance I had of making my case.

Harry! I snapped my fingers. I would get Harry to get a New York judge to waive the waiting period. I mean, after all, what was the point? We were already "married." For all the State of New York knew we were just two crazy, young, eccentric rich kids who were romantic enough to want to renew their vows at six months.

So, yes! Harry. I grabbed a notepad and scribbled his name to remind me. Harry could certainly convince a judge.

I bit my lip and frowned in thought as I added another note. Make sure Harry gets the marriage record sealed as private so it's not a matter of public record. I didn't want the media getting hold of this news. I shuddered at the thought. They'd make something nasty and scandalous out of it. Claim we were desperate to save our failing marriage. That the vow renewal was a lame attempt to reclaim the magic. Sad, really.

I shrugged off thoughts of gossipy douchebags.

Now all I needed was a little wedding chapel somewhere in snowy upstate New York, a willing officiant—still hated that word—who would require the license, a chartered jet, and a very small bit of Christmas magic to convince Jus, and I was set!

A knock on the door brought me out of my wedding thoughts and back to the real world.

"Mrs. Kayla?"

"Yes?"

Magda cracked the door open and poked her head in. "Lunch is ready."

I nodded and got out of my chair. As I wandered into the kitchen behind Magda, ready to eat at the counter, the news was still on. They cut to the ports and a shot of angry men carrying "On Strike" signs. Fair wages for longshoremen.

A bright blue banner was pegged at the bottom of the screen.
Longshoremen up and down the West Coast on strike. Ports closed for the foreseeable future. Retail giants worried. Will this kill their holiday profits? Wall Street reacts. Retail stocks down on the news.

My heart thudded to a standstill. My mouth went dry. "Crap."

Magda looked at me, following my gaze to the screen.

So that was why Jus hadn't called or texted me back. All my happy thoughts vanished. All I wanted for Christmas was a real marriage. Enough of this faking things! The port closure had probably just dashed my Christmas wish for a New York wedding.

J
ustin

I was in meetings, on the phone, scrambling, all day trying to salvage our Christmas orders. We were guaranteeing in-time for Christmas delivery. We were damn well going to make good on it. The Canadian ports were still open. We could ship our goods to Vancouver, B.C., and truck them down or send them by rail. We'd have to deal with customs at the border and incur more costs and time delays. Our East Coast distribution center in Pennsylvania would be fine. The East Coast ports were open. Our Midwest distribution center in Columbus, Ohio, and the one in Reno were in jeopardy.

Flying everything was just too expensive. We'd lose our shirts. Keeping operations running smoothly was going to be dicey from here until long after the strike ended. For every day it went on, shipping containers full of pallets of goods would pile up on the piers. Once the strike ended, it would take days, weeks, or months to get them all unloaded and distributed.

At seven in the evening, my stomach rumbled. I realized I hadn't eaten all day. Or checked personal messages. I wouldn't be going home tonight. I needed to call Kay. I wondered how her doctor appointment had gone. If something had been wrong she would have called me. I was confident of that.

Shit
, I thought with a start. I should have thought to check earlier. She'd left me nearly a dozen messages.

When I listened to the first message, my heart stopped. Her voice was panicked and scared. Kay was spotting. We could lose our baby.

I called her before listening to the rest. I was such a crappy husband.

K
ayla

I sat out on the covered patio, watching the silent, dark lake and looking at the lights sparkling from the city and homes across from us. A few scattered showers had come through since afternoon.

It was hard for people who weren't Seattleites to understand our relationship with our weather. We had as many names for rain as Finland had for snow. We loved sunshine, but when the rain was gone too long, we felt exposed and nervous. Ready for a comfy rainy day. And yet when it rained again after a long dry spell, it was like Seattle drivers had forgotten how to drive in it. All kinds of accidents.

Seattle in the winter was mostly fifty-five and rainy. And forty to fifty percent or more humidity. Snow for Christmas was a rarity. I'd lived in the Seattle area all my life, except for four years of college, and could only remember a couple of white Christmases. And you had to be generous about what constituted white, as in a dusting that lasted a few hours.

The humidity made it feel colder than it was. Because I was pregnant, I was always warm. It felt good to sit outside on our patio decorated with Christmas lights, sipping hot Christmas blend tea. I wore a light sweater and hadn't bothered to turn the patio heater on. I was perfectly comfortable. Anyone else would have been freezing. But I was enjoying the gentle, cold breeze that was rippling the lake.

Since noon, I'd been plotting. I was determined. Nothing would stop my Christmas wedding. I'd looked it up. We could get a marriage license on Christmas Eve before noon. If Harry could get the twenty-four-hour wait waived, we could be married that afternoon and fly home late Christmas day. Jus could be back in the office first thing on the 26th.

Even Jus wouldn't work on Christmas. If I teased him enough about being Scrooge, I could guilt him in to taking it off. Especially if I promised him he could go into work all the earlier the next day. Ha!
The Christmas Carol
.

It was getting him to take all of Christmas Eve off that worried me. I might have to blow my element of surprise.

My phone sat on the table next to me. It startled me when it sprang to life. Heart pounding, I grabbed it.
Jus
. "Hey, stranger."

"Kay!" He sounded relieved I'd picked up.

Hey, I knew the feeling. And, yes, he should have been glad I had a forgiving nature and everything had turned out okay.

"Babe, I'm so sorry. How are you? How's the baby? Where are you? Are you at the hospital? I'll come. I'll be right there. Just tell me where there is."

"You obviously didn't see all my messages. I'm home. I'm fine. The baby's fine. Just a bit of innocuous spotting caused by its over-horny parents," I explained, letting him off the hook way too easily. But it was Christmastime, and he was stressed by the strike, so I gave him a break.

Jus just so damn apologetic. You had to hear his tone of voice to fully get what I mean. Then you would recognize the sincerity in it. And the way he was beating himself up. Crap, he did a better job of it than I could do. He was so crazily sorry he had me wanting to comfort him. Apologies weren't just words for Jus. And that's what I loved about him. Part of it, anyway. His genuine concern.

"It's all right, Jus. I saw the news. I heard about the strike. I know you've been dealing with it all day." I hesitated, not sure I wanted to hear the answer to the question I was about to ask. "How bad is it?"

He paused, leading me to believe he was going to sugarcoat it. "Bad," he said at last. "It's going to be touch and go for us long after it ends. And it looks like it's going to be a prolonged work stoppage. The negotiating teams have packed up and called a cooling-off period. They don't plan to resume talks until next week at the earliest. The union and the ports are too far apart in their demands right now."

I was watching the dark ripples on the lake and drops of rain splatting as a shower moved through. My Christmas cheer completely melted away. "You won't be home tonight, will you?"

I tried not to sound all judgmental and needy. I knew when I married him that Jus was married to his work as well. And that he felt responsible for the jobs of all his employees. The health of the company meant more than just money for us. It meant livelihoods for thousands of people.

It was just that when I agreed to convince the world I was married to him, I hadn't been in love with him or pregnant with his baby. So I hadn't cared. In fact, I'd been almost relieved. Things were different now.

"I wish I could come home. I'm beat. But there's too much to do. No retailer across the country will be sleeping tonight. This affects us all. We'll be up all night with the workarounds…"