The Billionaire Bachelor (Billionaire Bad Boys Book 1) (3 page)

He slid past her while she stared at the sheeting rain, her fingers going numb around the lapels of his jacket. Not only was he firing her, but he expected her to work for him? Expected her to leave Chicago? This was her city, dammit! He didn’t reserve the right to boot her out.

When she turned, Reese was pressing a button on the wall. His office doors whispered open.

A balding, smiling man appeared in the doorway and gave Reese a wave of greeting. He noticed her next and offered a nod.

Well. Merina didn’t care who he was; he was about to get an earful. She wouldn’t allow Reese Crane to dismiss her after dropping that bomb on her feet.

She stomped over to the doorway between him and his guest.

“You listen to me, you suited sewer rat.” Disregarding their current third party, she seethed up at Reese. “I’m going to find a way around your machinations and when I do, I’m going to march back in here with the contract my parents signed and shove it straight up your ass.”

Reese’s eyebrows rose, his lips with them. Instead of apologizing to his guest, he grinned over at the balding man, who to his testament was appropriately shocked, and said, “You’ll have to forgive Ms. Van Heusen. She doesn’t like when she doesn’t get her way.”

The balding man laughed, though it sounded a tad uneasy.

Reese tilted his head at Merina. “Will there be anything else?”

“Your head on a pike.” With that parting blow, she left, holding fast to the suit jacket. She wore it on the ride down the elevator, through the bland lobby, and out onto Superior Street, where she wadded it up and threw it into a mud puddle gathering near the curb.

She walked back to the Van Heusen in the rain, telling herself she’d won this round. But Merina didn’t feel victorious.

She felt lost.

R
eese Crane had nine problems—the other members of the board of directors, now disassembling, murmuring to each other about dinner and drinks downtown. Left in the conference room were his youngest brother, Tag, and their father, Alex.

“That meeting went as well as expected,” Reese growled. “Bunch of stodgy old placeholders.”

“At least you held it in that long,” his father said.

Reese had nearly bitten his tongue to remain silent during the meeting. Now he felt his lip curl as he watched the horde of suits waddle away. He had one seat on the board. His father another. But they were in the minority. Thanks to his great-grandfather, who started Crane Hotels and lost the controlling percentage to the public.

The board had made it clear last month they would not appoint Reese in the position of CEO of Crane Hotels when Alex retired. Apparently, no one had changed their collective minds. They’d always liked Alex but had never warmed to his sons.

“Disloyal pack of jackals,” Reese said. They saw him as a spoon-fed brat who’d inherited his way to the top floor of Crane Hotels, which was an oversimplified truth. Yes, he was sitting at the position of chief operations officer because his father had founded Crane Hotels, but it wasn’t as if he didn’t work. As COO, Reese was in charge of the daily operations of the company, which was no small task.

“You have a flippant, playboy reputation,” Alex stated, not for the first time. “They’re being careful.”

“I work damn near eighty hours a week,” Reese all but bellowed. “I bleed over fiscal reports.”

“You have to play nice, bro,” Tag advised, wearing an easy smile. His facial hair was so heavy, he may as well have been sporting a beard. Reese’s youngest brother ran Guest and Restaurant Services for Crane Hotels. He did a lot of travel for hotel openings and bar and restaurant events. Typically, you couldn’t get him into a suit. Today, he’d eschewed his usual corporate Indiana Jones look for gray slacks and a white button-down.

All hail the board.

“They don’t like you much either,” Alex said, tipping his head at his other son.

At that, Tag sat straight in his chair and plucked the pencil out of his low-hanging ponytail-bun hybrid. Tag bucked the system every chance he had, so it wasn’t any wonder the board hadn’t appreciated his bravado. He worked hard, but his style was more beach bum than corporate and every one of those old crones knew it.

The mess over who would hold the position of CEO was only between Reese and the board. Tag didn’t want it. Alex was retiring. Their other brother, Eli, was still stationed in the desert and wasn’t interested.

“I have an idea,” Reese announced. Something that had been knocking around in his head since a soaking wet Merina Van Heusen had marched into his office and plunked a doorknob onto his desk.

At the mention of an idea, Alex waited. Tag’s brow creased.

Tag should know better. Of course Reese would come up with a plan before he gave up on being named CEO. It may be an impromptu, mostly old-fashioned plan, but it was a plan.

“Merina Van Heusen came by my office this morning to speak with me about my plans to remodel the Van Heusen.”

Alex’s brow went up.

“She left incensed,” Reese continued. “Stormed out of my office fifteen minutes later but not before insulting me in front of Phil Lightman.”

“You’re remodeling the Van Heusen? That place is a landmark,” Tag said.

“All aboard the ball-busting train.” Reese gave Tag a dry look.

His brother grinned in response. “Well, it is.”

“Shit,” Alex said with a raspy chuckle. His father was in a sleek gray suit and whimsical checkered tie and wore a full white mustache/goatee combo that complemented his thick white hair. He was former military, brawny, had brains and power, and enough balls to say what he meant.

“Shit is right.” Tag winced. “I’ve met Merina Van Heusen. She loves that hotel. I bet she freaked.”

Reese frowned. He’d never met her before this morning. “Where did you meet Merina Van Heusen?”

“Hotel supply conference.” Tag shrugged.

Reese shook his head. If there was a party, Tag was there. It’s one reason he was damn good at what he did for Crane. No one schmoozed like Tag.

“I spoke to her and her parents about the VH. It was obvious she loved that building for more than its bottom-line potential,” Tag said.

“Bad business,” Alex put in.

“Merina is more than just a numbers girl,” Reese stated, agreeing with both his brother and his father. Her passion for her hotel was a tick in the plus column for Reese, because he had something she wanted. That he’d bet she’d do anything to get back.

“I have a perception problem,” Reese said.

Alex grunted his agreement.

“The board sees me as a rich, spoiled prince about to inherit the kingdom. They don’t trust me. I’m unsettled. A loner.”
A playboy
, the tabloids said. He didn’t care for the insulting title, but it wasn’t untrue. He enjoyed the company of a number of women, consensually, of course, and he wasn’t about to apologize for it.

“A man-whore?” Tag offered.

Reese glared.

“Last one.” Tag held up a hand of surrender and smiled around his beard, a flash of straight, white teeth thanks to braces he’d bitched about for two years.

“Bed-hopping” as Frank, the douche bag, had called it during the meeting. Whether Reese agreed or not, the perception was there and wasn’t going anywhere. As long as the shareholders remained puritanically dated and the board handed them their balls—female board member Lilith’s included, because Reese would bet aces to assholes she had them—Reese was going to have a problem. Which meant he had to change his nefarious ways.

On the outside.

“I have to alter that perception,” Reese said. “Go from a man who enjoys the company of many women to a man who enjoys the company of one woman.”

“Can you even do that?” Tag smirked.

Smart-ass. Reese ignored him and continued. “Once they see me settled, snuggled into a routine, they’ll pay more attention to my achievements. The press will have to report on the woman who tamed me rather than the women I discard.” That wasn’t how he operated, but there was no convincing the outside world. The women he dated knew the score, enjoyed their time spent, and moved on. But reporters were vampires. They wanted blood and amicability didn’t make for interesting headlines.

It was the run-in with Merina that started Reese’s gears turning. She was fiery and passionate but also elegant and intelligent. If he were involved with someone like her, the local rags would have no choice but to take notice. One relationship for show could fix all of his problems. It was almost too simple.

He told his brother and father as much, finishing with, “Merina is the whole package.”

She’d fit into Reese’s world—into his plan—seamlessly. At the mention of package, he pictured her again. She’d been a study in opposites: stylish in understated matching jewelry, high-end name-brand shoes and clothing, yet she’d been borderline unhinged. Soaked to the bone and in complete disarray.

Her honeyed blond hair had begun to dry—the ends curling against her shoulders, while her silk shirt was plastered to her body, her breasts in particular, nipples erect and staring him in the face. But her fantastic tits didn’t have his undivided attention. Through her shirt, he’d been able to see the outline and a dab of color on what appeared to be a tattoo.

A tattoo.

It’d taken Herculean willpower to return his gaze to her strongly arched brows and frowning full lips. And even more willpower to keep his mind from wondering what bit of ink she’d permanently etched onto her skin. A butterfly? A teddy bear? A pair of hearts? Merina was a beautiful woman. Seeing her disheveled and learning that under her prim-and-proper exterior there lived a wild woman was…fascinating.

It’d been a long time since anyone had fascinated him.

“You. Settled?” One of Tag’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “With Merina Van Heusen?”

“That’s the gist.” Reese nodded.

“How? She has to hate you for trying to disassemble the VH.”

“A minor setback.”

Tag laughed so hard, he nearly toppled off his chair. By the time he righted himself, he was swiping moisture from his eyes and shaking his head. “Good luck with that, brother.”

Reese felt his mouth tug at the corners. He saw no other way. This would have to work.

“Merina sounds like the perfect option,” Alex interjected, and Reese breathed a sigh of relief. His father, his hero. If Alex saw this working, it would. They shared a brain for business, for negotiating. “She’ll do anything to keep her family’s legacy intact. And she’s tough enough to handle the press.”

“No kidding.” Reese grunted. In the short time he’d seen her, she’d barreled into his office unannounced, given his dinner date from last week an icy glare, and called him a suited sewer rat. Plus—

“She used the term
horseshit
,” Reese said, drawing the attention of the other men. “Who says that?” As he asked that question, he felt the corner of his mouth lift in amusement. When she said the word
shit
, her upper lip canted to one side, just a tad. Thanks to the rain that had washed away some of her makeup he’d noticed there was a tiny pale freckle at the corner of her mouth.

Sexy.

“Merina is tough, but also soft,” he said, dragging his thoughts back on course. “She dresses like a lady, handles herself like a woman, and doesn’t allow anyone to boss her around.”

“Including you,” Alex added. “But if you have her cooperation, sounds like she could smooth out your rough edges in the public eye.”

“Agree to what? What are we talking about here?” Tag, who was grinning in confusion, shook his head. “You going to demand she date you?”

“I’m going to ask her to marry me,” Reese stated, and his brother’s smile erased.

Alex smiled proudly. “Brilliant.”

“For six months,” Reese said. “An agreement that will end as soon as I’ve established my CEO status. Then we can quietly divorce, and I’ll sign over the Van Heusen.”

Jaw ajar, Tag looked from his father to his brother. “You’re both insane.”

“I’m desperate,” Reese said. It was the truth. “If I don’t convince the board to give me Dad’s position, they will appoint a CEO outside of this family.”

“That can’t happen.” Tag looked appropriately upset. None of them wanted anyone other than a family member running Crane Hotels.

“No,” Reese agreed. “It can’t.”

Alex was retiring in six months. He wouldn’t put off his retirement, a move that Reese supported a million percent. His father wouldn’t let the board bully him. “Start showing weakness, Reese,” he’d said, “and they’ll pick at your carcass the rest of your reign. We need them. But they need us more. We just have to make them see it.”

It was an irritating corporate chess game, but Reese was learning to toe the line when necessary. He planned on growing Crane Hotels to twice the size his father had, and to do that, he couldn’t be a lone wolf. He needed the support of the people who made decisions: the board.

Since his work ethic preceded him and they still didn’t trust him, the wolf would have to put on sheep’s clothing to make them believe he was one of the herd. A family man. A husband intent on keeping up squeaky-clean public appearances.

Win the press, win the board.

Win the board, win CEO.

But Reese also knew his weaknesses. He needed someone who was his opposite yet equal. He needed someone who could handle pressure elegantly, even while using the word
horseshit
.

He needed Merina Van Heusen.

“I have a dinner date,” Alex announced, standing from his chair.

“Who is she?” Tag teased.

Big Crane’s sons had all taken after him, none of them planning on settling down—well, until just now. But Reese’s would be a marriage on paper—totally different. His father had loved their mother, and after she died, he never found another to fill her shoes. Alex was in his sixties and neither the board nor the media cared if he dated. No, that magnifying glass focus fell on Reese, who was the next in line as heir to the Crane throne. Tag’s dating was overlooked because he was the party guy and it was expected. Eli was a nonissue since he was overseas. Maybe when he came home, the press would care who he was fucking.

Reese doubted it. The media had their hooks into him. He was the easy target—the man who’d made tawdry headlines because of the number of women he spent time with—and never spent time with more than once.

“She is a
he
, and he is the linen supplier for the greater Chicago area,” Alex answered.

“You’re supposed to be retired,” Reese said.

“Six months.” His father pointed at him. Reese smiled. His old man. Retired but not dead, he often said of his future plans. Alex turned and left the conference room and Reese stood to do the same. It had been a hell of a long day already and was less than half over. He didn’t stop at five, unless it was five a.m.

“Explain to me why you have to
marry
Merina Van Heusen?” Tag asked, still lounging in the chair. Even dressed nicely, he resembled a lazy cat. He was damn good, though. Guest and Restaurant Services was not an easy part of the hotel business to keep running, but Tag did it flawlessly. And dressed like a bum half the time. Go figure.

“Because Kate Hudson is taken?”

Tag rolled his eyes. “Why not just date her?”

“The board needs to see I’m serious. Nothing is more serious than marriage. Once I’ve settled down, they’ll see I’m a changed man. Responsible.”

“No longer the consummate billionaire bachelor,” Tag drawled, quoting one of the gossip rags.

“Right,” Reese agreed. “It’s a business deal like any other deal.” He lifted his iPhone and tucked it into his jacket pocket, then straightened his shirtsleeves. “It has perimeters, an end date, and a goal. I’m going to give her a few days—maybe wait until next week to ask her. After she cools down, Merina will see. She’s a smart businesswoman, despite the fact that she’s in love with that relic of a hotel.”

“Sentimentality isn’t a crime.”