The Resilient One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance

COPYRIGHT ©2016 by Camille Coats Checketts

All rights reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

COPYRIGHT ©2016 by Camille Coats Checketts

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Birch River Publishing

Smithfield, Utah

Published in the United States of America

Cover design: Christina Dymock

Interior design: Heather Justesen

Editing: Daniel Coleman

To my sweetheart of a friend, Jeanette Lewis. Thank you for including me in The Billionaire Bride Pact and for being such a wonderful example of an amazing mother, writer, and friend.

I’ve heard it said that some people come into your life and quickly leave—others leave footprints on your heart. Jeanette and Cami are two wonderful authors and women who have left their mark on my heart. Their overwhelming support, knowledge, and general goodness have pushed me forward as a writer and nurtured me as a friend. That’s why I’m pleased to introduce you to their new and innovative series: The Billionaire Bride Pact Romances.

In each story, you’ll find romance and character growth. I almost wrote personal growth—forgetting these are works of fiction—because the books we read become a part of us, their words stamped into our souls. As with any good book, I disappeared into the pages for a while and was able to walk sandy beaches, visit a glass blowing shop, and spend time with a group of women who had made a pact—a pact that influenced their lives, their loves, and their dreams.

I encourage you to put your feet up, grab a cup of something wonderful, and fall in love with a billionaire today.

Wishing you all the best,

Lucy McConnell

Author of
The Professional Bride

I, Alyssa Armsworth, do solemnly swear that someday I will marry a billionaire and live happily ever after. If I fail to meet my pledge, I will
stand up at my wedding reception and sing the Camp Wallakee theme song.

Alyssa’s uneven gait pounded through the miles as she enjoyed the running path along Ka’anapali Beach. She had to cut away from the water line and up to the road because of the rocky shoreline next to the Hilton, but within half a mile she could see the ocean again. Life was just better when she could see the ocean.

A loud trumpet blasted through her earbuds. Alyssa jumped. Her heart hammered as she forced her legs out of their rhythm and slowed to a walk. She pulled her earbuds out and retrieved the phone from the pouch in her running pants, cursing her best friend, Maryn, for putting the annoying trumpet as her ringtone and cursing herself for not changing it.

“Why haven’t you answered my calls?”

“Sprinting makes the palms a bit slick.” Better not to admit she didn’t answer last night because she was editing photos and didn’t want to be interrupted.

“Well, stop sprinting and answer the blasted phone.” Maryn huffed. “
The
best friend should have priority over everything else. You know I’m just jealous because you can outrun me even with your nubbin of a foot, but it always stresses me out when you sprint. What if you fell?”

Alyssa stopped, breathing deeply and focusing on the picturesque Airport Beach, loving the taste of salt in the air. The water lapped onto the beige sand from an ocean as dark blue as midnight. She loved Maui early in the morning in January. The weather was beautiful as always, but the tourists were scarce. She leaned forward to stretch tight hamstrings. Her dark ponytail fell over her shoulder and obscured the view. She pushed it away. She wasn’t offended by Maryn’s reference to her misshapen foot. It did make running more difficult, but she wasn’t going to let a deformity she’d dealt with since birth dictate her life.

“You do realize it’s six a.m.?” Alyssa asked. Maryn usually wasn’t an early riser, unless she had inspiration to write an article on a celebrity or some other sensational story that would make her money. Six a.m. in Maui would mean eight a.m. in Los Angeles. Still too early for her night owl of a friend.

“Who cares? I need a favor.”

“No. You?” Alyssa hoped she laid the sarcasm on thick enough. Maryn was forever in need of favors to boost her freelance career. It used to work well when Alyssa was developing her portfolio as a photographer, but her brand of capturing candid human interaction had taken off and she was now sold in studios throughout America as well as a prosperous internet business. “I’m not taking any pictures of celebrities for scum-bag magazines.” It was humiliating that she’d ever done that for Maryn, but it had paid the bills when they were living on Top Ramen and showering at the local recreation center because their utilities were shut off.

“No. I’m way past that. This new magazine is on the up and up.”

Alyssa hoped that was true. Maryn worked for so many different magazines it was difficult to know which were smut and which were respectable. Alyssa started walking the beach trail. Might as well get in more mileage, even if it was at a slower pace. With the special orthotics in her shoe, she barely limped. Thank heavens for modern medicine.

“So…” Maryn continued when Alyssa didn’t reply. “All I need you to do is meet a guy and get him to ask you out.”

“
What
?” Alyssa stopped walking again.

“Hey, I understand the life of a recluse is oh so appealing and good-looking men are oh so scary, but this is going to be easy as a chocolate truffle. He’s filthy rich, hot, and he’s coming to you. Plus, if you land him you could be number three of the twelve to keep The Pact. Can’t wait to trap my own hot Richie.” Maryn laughed, obviously pleased with herself, but Alyssa knew her friend would never marry a wealthy man. She had too many issues from being half-starved most of her life.

“I am so confused right now.” Alyssa tried to breathe slowly and watch the waves to bring some sense of calm. She did not need to be reminded of a pact she should never have made at girl’s camp when she was too young and stupid to understand the influence of peer pressure. A pact she had no desire to fulfill. Her dad had pushed plenty of “Richies” on her and she would never consent to being sold to the highest bidder. She focused back on her friend. How exactly was Maryn arranging for some billionaire to come to her?

“Thanks to Nikki, Holly, and Taylor’s exclusive interviews, and Erin’s ideas for how to sniff out the men with money, my article on how to pick up billionaires went viral.” Maryn squealed happily. “Of course I didn’t share that Taylor is already divorced, would’ve put a damper on the situation. Now I’ve got several magazines begging me for a follow-up so I thought, hey, let’s do something on how to meet those reclusive Richies. The humble, sweet ones that everyone wants to get their hands on.”

It was much too easy to imagine Maryn rubbing her hands together in anticipation.

“I’m happy for Nikki and Holly, but honestly they can keep their billionaire husbands.” Nikki had been the picture of bridal bliss at her wedding a couple of months ago. Holly on the other hand didn’t look thrilled with life. Hopefully she was happy. “But remember,” Alyssa said to Maryn. “I’m the ‘prude’. I’ll never marry a rich man.” She was perfectly content with her career and no man controlling her like her father had attempted to do.

“Would you forget about that jerk? I swear, if I could cut his parts off I would. You are not a prude just because you wouldn’t give Hugh what he wanted. That man thought he was Hugh Hefner and you were a Playboy Bunny. Nasty a-hole!”

Alyssa winced. She shouldn’t have said anything that brought Hugh into the conversation. It never failed to rile Maryn. A cool breeze made her shiver. “So how am I supposed to help you with your article?” Alyssa asked, more than ready to forget about Hugh.