Read The Billionaire's Wife (A Steamy BWWM Marriage of Convenience Romance Novel) Online
Authors: Mia Caldwell
She was perfect for the role.
Kiona
That evening,
I was still trying to shake the sight of Cole’s smile from my head. There was
something about the way he had been apathetically part of the meeting –
obviously, he hadn’t wanted to be there. But then he’d turned his attention to
me, and for a brief moment I felt the weight of his crushing gaze…and I wanted
more of it.
Cole Andrews
was the hottest guy I’d ever met. My keystrokes betrayed me as I pulled up the
company staff page, then clicking his headshot to pop-out a full-sized picture.
There he was, with his thick brunette hair, piercing blue eyes, and chiseled
cheekbones. But despite his physical handsomeness, there was his trademark
crisp stare – not even the faintest trace of a smile. I’d never seen a
picture of this man smiling, and if the tabloids were to be believed,
nobody
had. He looked perpetually
distant at all times, simply going through the motions at any given time.
I’d believe
those tabloids too, if I hadn’t seen the ear-to-ear grin he’d flashed me in the
board room.
Just how Cole
had put a company together and achieved his ridiculous level of success in such
a short period of time, I have no idea. Maybe he was just frighteningly
intimidating to his business partners.
I fought the
compulsion to run a Google search on my boss. I could have pulled up the latest
gossip on Cole Andrews within seconds, but I’d already read anything useful at
least once.
The man was
an enigma. Born without money, he’d been raised in your typical middle-class
environment. There wasn’t anything remarkable about his youth. The details
started around the time that he was in high school. He transferred into a good
school – although where he had been before was a mystery – and
graduated at the top of his class, won a few scholarships, and
somehow
got accepted into the Yale
School of Business. Two years in, he dropped out and instantly started up his
company. He’d cracked some deep-web marketing algorithm and that shot him
straight to the forefront of online advertising. The corporation was
immediately successful, profitable in the first year with explosive growth from
then on, and nobody on the outside could figure out how he did it.
The
Runaway Tycoon
, the papers had mockingly
called him, but the sarcasm faded when he didn’t go down in flames. What should
have been a brief string of good luck turned out to be a carefully plotted
design, executed with precision. No matter what was going on with Cole Andrews,
it was clear that he knew
exactly
what
he was doing. His success was legitimized when several household brands and
names sprung up with the badge of honor attached in the footers of their
websites:
Managed and designed by Andrews Enterprises.
His company expanded
beyond advertising, building the databases, websites, and infrastructure for
the biggest names in the business. He took failing retailers and turned their
companies around, making an incredible amount of money in the process. Insider
information I’d learned told me that his company took a small, flat percentage
of ongoing profits from each company he raised from its deathbed. Every new
success was another pin in his crisp lapel, securing additional fame and higher
asking fees from successive partners. The company had yet to make a single
mistake. Cole’s rapid success had become a mathematical impossibility.
And that was
only part of the story. I’d seen first-hand that he continuously reinvested
assets back into the business – my coworkers were happy, efficient, and
proud to work for him. If not for the fact that I was inevitably going to be
found out and cast aside, I’d almost consider sticking with the company…just
getting inside had been worth the trouble.
I swished my
glass of red thoughtfully, staring at the penetrating gaze of Cole Andrews.
Who are you, Cole?
A frown crossed my
lips, and I shut off the page and closed the laptop with a deep sigh.
*
*
*
It was
Saturday, so I ran some quick laundry, ironed out my work blouses, and did the
dishes from the night before. With my small, meager apartment looking
remotely
presentable, I was curled up
with a book when my cell phone started buzzing against the coffee table.
Glancing at the name, I gave myself a quick grin, and swiped it open.
“Swaree!
How’re you doing?”
Aiswarya was
my best friend – we’d known each other passingly in high school, but
really grew close after graduation. Her party girl lifestyle clashed with my
modest approach to entertainment, but I couldn’t fault her for being
infectiously happy pretty much
all the
time
.
“Hey girl!
Not much! I was thinking of going out for some drinks, that cool with you?”
I paused,
mentally checking my budget. I leveraged my checking account against the
incoming bills, thought of any emergencies that could ostensibly be on the
horizon. Sure, none of that would be a problem when I was finished with my
little job at Cole Andrews. The payout would be substantial, but for now I had
to make do, and that meant no excessive spending.
“Listen, if
you can’t make it, that’s coo–”
“I’m really
sorry, Swaree,” I confessed into the phone. “It’s been a bit of a rough week,
and I’m tapped for cash. Maybe after the next paycheck?”
“Aw!” She
groaned derisively, but she took it in stride. “One of these days, girl,
something
big’s
gonna happen and
you’ll
have
to take me up on this!”
“Big? Don’t
worry me,” I chuckled.
“
Good
big!
You work
way
too hard to
live like you do. You deserve more! You need a pretty house and a man and…
You’ve gotta…wait, that sounded bad. I’m sorry, Key, I didn’t mean it
like–”
“That’s
okay,” I reassured her. “You’re right. I do work too hard…but only for a little
bit longer. I just have to wait this out and save up a little more.”
“Yeah, yeah,
that’s what you said when you were doing the gym management thing,” Aiswarya
reminded me. “What was it? ‘Just six months of this and I’m good?’ How long ago
was that?”
“A long time
ago,” I muttered. She was right, of course. Every opportunity was another step
in the right direction, but I had to make significant compromises –
Buy a better home computer that I need, or
stop living in a total dump? Pay the exorbitant energy bill from a ballistic
air conditioner while on a work trip, or buy clothes for an interview and hope
I can make it to the next paycheck?
Compromises
constantly made my progress artificial at best, but I did what I had to do.
Luckily, not owning a car made my expenses more manageable, but the public
transit came with its own problems – it was constantly late, filled with
obnoxious people playing
grab ass
with
me, and taking
way
too much time to
get around.
Aiswarya and
I made some small talk before I got off the line, descending into wallowing
self-pity for a minute.
She’s had the
same resources I have, and she’s so much happier.
I stood up,
glancing out my third-story window. From here, I had a picturesque view of the
surrounding ramshackle buildings, an abandoned warehouse, and the distant
refinery that gave the air here the sweet, constant aroma of disgustingly burnt
coffee.
Something big is going to happen
, I repeated
to myself.
Good big.
Kiona
Two Days
Later
There was absolutely
nothing
about the way my workweek
started that implied it would be anything but your typical boring, unsatisfying
Monday…so you’ll sympathize with me being
totally
unprepared for what was coming.
It started
like the usual. Since Internet retailers don’t magically shut down on the
weekends, naturally we had some last-second changes come through for a big
client. I was working hard at my desk, producing a few sudden, emergency
banners for Timothy in Graphic Design, when the little red-haired minx of an
executive assistant popped up again.
Clutching a
clipboard to her chest, she flashed me a disarming, wide-eyed smile. “Kiona, do
you have a moment?”
“Of course,”
I answered, glancing around. Half the staff had earphones in, listening to
various Pandora stations while they worked and stifled their yawns. Nobody
seemed to notice that the freaking executive assistant had just approached me
out of the blue for a private conversation.
Cautiously, I
turned off my screen and followed Kylie across the lake of cubicles and straight
towards Larry’s office. With every step, I grew a little more apprehensive
– it was obvious that this had something to do with the conference room meeting.
I only wondered why it took so long, and what punishment I was to be given.
To my
surprise, we simply walked around his office and towards the corridor on the
other side. We moved quietly down the hall and waited for a pair of strolling,
laughing web development programmers to saunter past.
When the
coast was clear and we were out of earshot from the rest of the employees,
Kylie finally turned to me. “Mr. Andrews has requested your company for lunch,”
she stated calmly but firmly. “Do you accept?”
And there it
was. My ass was about to be fired.
There wasn’t a person in this company
from the ground up who didn’t know what happened when Mr. Andrews invited you
to lunch. It was like death row. They always give you one last meal.
If it wasn’t
my insubordination in front of him, it was because the jig was finally up.
Well, you got a few good months out of it,
I
thought to myself quietly.
“Yes, of
course,” I nodded, hiding the growing pit in my stomach. “Which day does he
prefer?”
“Do you have
plans for today?”
“Today?” Oof,
that was fast. “Sure. When should I leave, and where should I go?”
“You won’t be
leaving the premises, actually. In an hour, please report to Mr. Andrews’
office. Everything will be clear at that time.”
She smiled softly
and scampered away, leaving me in a confused, apprehensive
daze. The next hour, I realized, was going to be one of the most
excruciatingly long hours I’ve ever endured. I returned to my desk, taking a
moment to stop by Larry’s office and remove the tiny USB key-logger from the
back of his computer. There wasn’t enough time to sift through what it had
captured. I could only hope it had the information I was hired to retrieve.
*
*
*
An hour later
on the dot, I was standing in front of the open door to Cole Andrews’ private
office. The aesthetic from the corporate conference room was in full swing here
– delightful mocha on the walls, exquisite bookshelves, trophies and
awards atop the uppermost shelves (how many awards does this guy even have?),
and a powerful, luxurious executive desk, crafted from a bold, striking wood
sheen. The glass wall behind the desk gave an impressive view, and I found
myself drawn towards it.
“Such a
lovely sight…isn’t it?”
Although I’d
only heard a few syllables from that voice, it was instantly recognizable. In a
brief moment of flummox, I turned my attention towards Cole Andrews, stepping
out of a recessed doorway I had missed between bookcases. For a brief moment, I
entertained the preposterous notion that he was admiring
me
and not the window.
“Yes, it
really is…” I agreed, glancing out to the opposing architecture. Although I
should have been jealous of the man – only a few years older than me,
rewarded so handsomely for his accomplishments – I couldn’t bring myself
to envy him.
There had
been something in his distant stare. He was always on guard.
But why?
“Come, Kiona.
Eat with me.”
I brushed off
his casual use of my first name, following him through the doorway and onto a
large balcony area. I couldn’t resist casting my gaze about under the open air,
feeling on top of the world. The railed balcony was tastefully sized, with
ample room for entertaining a gathering guests and complete with an exquisite
pavilion. Beneath the structure was a single table draped in white with room for
just two. Gathering my bearings, I sat down opposite of him to a piping hot
meal of seared salmon, sautéed asparagus, and a tasteful dollop of hollandaise
sauce.
“What is
this, exactly?” I asked suspiciously.
Cole snatched
up his napkin, dropping it onto his lap. “Why, this is baked salmon, with
asparagus and–”
“You know
that’s not what I meant,” I remarked coolly, grasping a fork and taking a bite
of asparagus. It tasted so good that I
almost
hated jumping straight into things…but in order to adapt well, one needs a
grasp of the playing field. “Why did you call me up for this meal?”
“Business
already, hmm?” Cole lifted a crisp eyebrow, his eyes calmly watching me. “Fine,
we’ll have it your way. Why don’t you tell me?”
He began to
eat, but I could tell that he would be intently listening to whatever I said
next.
I sighed,
quickly analyzing the situation between bites. “You’re a young, self-made
billionaire, which means that you don’t waste your time. Including now…” I
paused, tasting a bite of the seared salmon. It was mouth-wateringly good. “…So,
not only am I here for a specific reason, but it’s something important enough
to require your direct attention…”
“Go on.” He
took a bite of asparagus.
I studied his
eyes for a moment. “Everyone knows you’re a fan of giving employees a last meal
when you’re about to fire them…” Another delicious bite of salmon, this time
dipped in the hollandaise sauce, “…But I can see from the smirk on your face
that you’re not going to fire me. That means that I’m not being punished for my
insubordination in the meeting…”
“Two for two.
Continue.”
“…Or for
fabricating my resume.”
His fork
paused on the way to his lips; Cole’s eyes flickered for a brief second, not
out of surprise but out of cool and calculating recognition.
“You’re on a
roll so far.”
I stuffed
another bite of asparagus into my mouth, mentally struggling for anything else.
“So…I’m guessing you need me for something.” I swallowed a swig of water from
my glass. “You clearly know more about me than I gave you credit for. You could
blackmail me, threaten me legally or use your
magical
billionaire powers, but that’s not your style.”
Cole narrowed
his eyes.
“…
Probably
not your style. Instead, you
chose to treat me to what must be the most delicious meal I’ve had in years.” I
dabbed at my lips with my napkin.
The
billionaire chomped on another piece of asparagus. “That’s borderline criminal.
A beautiful woman like you should get used to food like this.”
I ignored his
change in tactics, quickly swallowing a large sip of water. “You could have
chosen any other way to intimidate me, but that’s not your angle. I can only
guess that you’re impressed with me.”
Cole nodded,
setting his own half-eaten plate aside. “Perceptive as expected, Kiona.”
I inwardly
sighed a breath of relief. “The only thing I can’t figure out, though, is what
you’re going to ask me to do.”
A smile
crossed the billionaire’s lips, and he leaned back in his chair, hands folded
behind his head. I took another bite as I waited, letting the almost
unbelievable taste roll over my tongue. I could tell he was savoring this
moment almost as much as I was savoring this meal, and that only made me even
more apprehensive.
“I’m going to
ask you to marry me.”
That’s when I
spit half chewed salmon all over him.