The Way to a Billionaire's Heart: Part Two: BWWM Interracial Romance (6 page)

BOOK: The Way to a Billionaire's Heart: Part Two: BWWM Interracial Romance
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“What good planning that was.”

“I’m a professional caterer. We’re good at that.” I sat up in bed. “Oh wait, you wrecked my dress. I don’t have clothes.”

Walker got out of bed and went to a chest of drawers. I admired the muscles in his ass.

He tossed me a t shirt. “That should do for now. I’m sure I can dig something up later.”

I pulled it on and got out of bed. The shirt smelled of Walker and salt air. It must have been big even on him, as it hung down to the middle of my thighs.

He put on running shorts and I followed him back down the stairs, enjoying the soreness between my legs, the reminder of what I had now.

The pudding was, of course, delicious.

Walker

A line of healthy snack cakes was the best idea I ever had. It introduced me to the love of my life and made me filthy rich. Okay, filthier and richier.

Andrea, as it turned out, was even smarter in the boardroom than in the kitchen. Even if she wasn’t terrific in bed, I’d have wanted her on our team. She had a knack for figuring out exactly what was going to be important to consumers and translating it to a large-scale production. Seriously, you can’t train that into someone.

Aunt Tara’s Treats (named after Andrea’s mother, only fair) have been gobbling up market share as quickly as suburban health nuts have been gobbling up the bars. And, thanks to Andrea, they’re
actually
a pretty healthy product, not just a candy bar in a health food wrapper.

She was reluctant to quit the personal chef business, but once she started planning our wedding, she decided to let it go, handing over her clients to a friend. Their loss, for sure, but my gain. I eat like a king.

Of course, she drove the wedding caterer batshit, since she knew exactly how things
should
be done, but it made for one hell of a party. Washington will be talking about that one until a President’s daughter gets married.

The cooking school Andrea started in Anacostia has been a quiet success. She won’t let me trumpet it the way I want to, she worries that it won’t serve the right people if it gets too much press. But she’s hired local cooks and chefs to teach, people with both common sense
and
economics degrees to offer classes on budgeting for a healthy diet, and she recently put her mom at the helm. Andrea’s been pretty exhausted with this pregnancy.

I’ve gotten better about my work habits, too. We’ve taken off a month in the winter to live at the Bonaire house, back in time for the gorgeous D.C. Spring. And, of course, I’ve promised to take time off when the baby comes. Wonder what line of snacks we can name after her?

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Excerpt from
Beauty and the Billionaire
by Mia Caldwell

“Hey there, Jenna!” I said to the receptionist as I walked in. “Nice to see you!”

In a rush, she got up and pulled me to the break room.

“Iz, we have to be on point today,” she said, looking at me intently. “The new boss is coming in, and I hear he’s a bear.”

“I’m sure we are going to be fine, Jenn, I wouldn’t worry about it.” I knew I came off as more confident than I felt, but I always felt it was better not to let people see you sweat. “We do a good job here. Otherwise, why would he have wanted to buy the company, right?”

She looked doubtful, chewing on her lip. “I guess so. Do you think? I am nervous as all get out.”

“It’s going to be fine,” I grinned at her and squeezed her arm. “All we can do is our best.”

Slipping into the bathroom, I straightened my suit jacket in the mirror. Its rosy color complemented my lipstick, which had been on purpose. No harm in looking one’s best, I knew, especially on the first day of work for a new boss
. A gorgeous new boss,
I thought.
Even if he’s a jerk, I can’t wait to see him in person.
There was a magazine that had featured him recently as a ‘hot one to watch,’ and with half the staff old married dudes, honestly we could use some eye-candy around here. I checked my teeth for stray lipstick, washed my hands and headed to my office. When I walked up to the door I saw someone crouched over halfway in the small closet. Jenna was running after me, miming something frantically, but I ignored her and stood in the doorway. She had always been excitable.

I cleared my throat.

He turned around and stood up, and I couldn’t help it, I gasped. He had to be at least six foot four – tall, imposing, handsome, with dirty blonde hair and gray eyes. He was clad in jeans and a button down shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal handsome, tan forearms.

“Who are you?” He barked.

Taken aback, I said, “Who are you? This is my office.”

“Well to be precise, it’s my office now, as I am the owner of this company. But you work here…?”

“My name’s Isabelle Jenkins. And not sure I exactly work here – I’m just your best bet for keeping this company successful.” I couldn’t believe it had come out of my mouth, but his manner was so brusque I had to get his attention.

“Isabelle. Yes.’’ He stuck his hand out, a scowl marring his shapely lips
. This guy for sure didn’t have people skills
. “I’m Ben Hunter. Aren’t you late?”

“No sir, I am not late, as I haven’t had a set schedule here – though I work hard, I have always come and gone as I please. Today I was told to report by this morning and was here at 8 on the dot. Now what are you doing in my supply closet?”

“Well, there were enough inconsistencies in the reporting that I felt I needed to investigate everything on my own. I need to know my businesses from the ground up. It’s how I made my fortune, and I won’t allow any irregularities going forward.”

He may be brusque, but that was fair. “Very good,” I said. “Is there anything else you need then, because I do want to get started on today’s work.”

“I’ll be knocking around all day,” he said grimly. “There’s a lot to look into, based on the way this place was left. Please be available for me. I am sure I will have a lot of questions.” He picked up a large box and left with it, not bothering to say goodbye.

“Are you ok? You were amazing!” Jenna was waving her arms around like a fool, eyes wide.

“Oh shush Jenna. Don’t worry, we’ll get through this. Now we need you at the desk! You’re indispensible!” I ushered her out the door, shut it, and sat at my desk, trying to control the adrenaline in my system. He was tough, and unpleasant, that’s for sure.

But jeez, I hadn’t counted on being so attracted to him.

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AUTHOR BIO

Mia Caldwell has been fantasizing about stories of “Happily-Ever-After” since she was a little girl, and now that she’s all grown up her “Happily-Ever-After” stories have taken a steamier turn! After graduating from college Mia still wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to do with her life. Bored with her day job as an Administrative Assistant for a non-profit, she started writing stories on the side and sharing them with her friends. They gave her the push she needed to share them with you! She lives in New York with two rascally cats named Link and Zelda, eats too much chocolate and Chinese take-out, and goes on way too many blind dates. She’s still waiting for Mr. Right, but in the meantime she’ll keep dreaming up the perfect man!

Mia loves hearing from her fans and you can reach her at: [email protected]

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I was in the water almost a full minute before I started thinking about Walker.
Dammit.
I had the vague sense of a promise broken. I tried to push him out by recalling the details of my time with Dylan. Replace dark hair with light, green eyes with grey. Tailored suit with rayon Hawaiian print shirt. Italian leather with flip flops…It wasn’t working. And that was just on the superficial level.

I was clearing my head by trying to think of what I would cook if I were a chef here when I saw Kiera coming down the beach. I waved my arms so she’d see where I was.

I paddled in toward shore to meet her.

“Hey there, have a good night?”

“Shhh…ow, my head.” Kiera winced as she waded out.

“I hear you. Three Advil and a gallon of water later and my head is still pounding. What was in those drinks?”

“Kevin says it’s the shitty local rum.”

“Kevin? Local boy? Did you let him speak English or are you fluent in Papiamento now?”

“I let him speak English this morning.” She gave me her bad girl grin. “Just before I sent him on his way. He wanted to stay with us today, said he’d be a tour guide.” She made a “psht” noise and shook her head. "I told him I don’t want a boyfriend
or
a tour guide."

“I’m not sure I’m up for touring anyway.” I wasn’t sure I’d ever leave the water. It felt
so
good to be floating there in the sun.

“Nooo. This is a hanging around the beach day. I intend to give this hangover until noon and then I’m going to the pool bar.”

“I think it’s a sober day for me. Maybe I’ll lay on one of those chairs with a sunshade and read.”

“Wait!” Kiera’s head popped up off her tube and she took of her sunglasses. "How was
your
night? Last I saw, you left with that man with the porn body and the shirt that didn’t close."

“Dylan. We’re having dinner tonight.”

"But what about
last
night? Did you bring him back to the room?"

“Nah, I left not long after I went outside.” I sighed. “I wanted to hook up with him. I really did. But I kept thinking about Walker and I just felt…sad.”

We floated in silence for a few moments. Then Kiera said, “Okay. Forgetting about him isn’t working. So try to just accept it. Tell yourself, ‘I met this man, I thought something was going to come of it, but it didn’t. And that’s okay. I’m sad, and that’s okay.’ Like, see your sadness and accept it. And let it go.”

“Kiera, have you been listening to NPR again?”

She laughed and splashed me. “As a matter of fact, that is from some mindfulness meditation bullshit I heard about. Here, I’ll put it how our mothers would: Let go and let God. Walker is out of your hands, out of your life. You don’t have to forget about him, you can remember those few days fondly if you want, but you can’t cling to them as a thing you can bring back.” She paused and paddled then added, “It’s like a dead puppy.”

“What?!”

“Like a dead puppy–it was cute and nice and fun, but it wasn’t around very long and all the crying in the world won’t bring it back to life. Go get a new dog.”

“Holy crap, Kiera, I am so glad you didn’t become a therapist.” And yet…that actually made sense. Walker was my dead puppy. And I just needed to go back to the poun

The Way to A Billionaire’s Heart Part Two

by Mia Caldwell

Copyright © 2015, Six Gables Software

Published by Six Gables Software

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopy, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious, and are not to be construed as real. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Cover art is licensed from a stock photography service and does not imply support from the licensing service, model, or photographer.

This book contains content that may not be suitable for readers under 18.

Version: 2015-05-19 19:32

Table of Contents

Never Miss a Thing

Walker

Andrea

Walker

Andrea

Walker

Excerpt from Beauty and the Billionaire by Mia Caldwell

AUTHOR BIO

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