Making Out with the Billionaire

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Making Out with the Billionaire Page 3

by Swann, Marcella

“This may be the company you founded,” Stan cut in, “but it may not be yours for much longer if you keep all this up.”

  “All this?”

  “Lisa . . . or whatever her freaking name is. What the hell—”

  “—I’m not going anywhere, little brother. Jealousy really isn’t a good look on you, Stan.” Dorran’s hands began to tremble slightly. He clasped them together to keep his composure.

  “Boys, boys. Stop the bickering.” Violet rubbed the cover of the book in front of her and smiled at Dorran.

  “My dear boy. I have raised you and Stan from that terrible day in 1998. Dorran, you have accomplished some of the most remarkable things imaginable. And yet, though it pains me to say this, you’re behavior has gotten out of hand.”

  “Grandma. . .”

  “No. Don’t grandma me, young man. I’m not going to beat around the bush. You’re one wrong move away from losing everything.”

  The lump grew in his throat. Violet had always been so gentle and understanding, but Dorran also knew she had nerves of steel. This was no joke.

  “What do you mean? It’s my company.” The anger began to rise in him. His clasped hands turned into fists so tight that his nails dug into his palms.

  “Only partly true. You own 25 percent of Hail. Grandma has a larger stake; she’s the majority owner,” Stan said.

  “We’re family. Grandma hocked everything she had for me to start Hail.”

  Stan opened his mouth with some retort, but Violet shot him a look that instantly silenced him.

  “For the past few months, you’ve been acting much more like a playboy than you have as a leader of a multi-billion-dollar company. You were twenty minutes late to the meeting.”

  “Fifteen,” Dorran whined.

  “On top of it, you thought it was appropriate to bring one of your lady friends to a business meeting.” The emphasis on business made it even more obvious as to why she was upset.

  Violet sighed as she set her cup of tea down in front of her. “You’re treating this as a frat house rather than a place of business. Dorran, there people here that depend on this company. People who pay their mortgages and provide for their families with their paychecks. And there’s a legion of drivers all over the world who rely on us to thrive, to keep them in business. Not everyone is a billionaire, dear.”

  Part of Dorran wanted to feel guilty. The other part of him veered toward him being who he was and letting the chips fall where they may. That was so much easier.

  “I still get my business done. The company hasn’t failed. The China deal is still on the table.”

  “Thanks to Stan and his team.” Violet leaned forward. “My dear, as chairwoman of the Board of Directors. . .” There was a pause as her face softened. “And as your grandmother, who loves you, I can’t let you destroy this company. Or yourself.”

  A wave of guilt washed over Dorran. For a moment, he looked at his grandmother, who had always been so full of life, and saw her frailty, her age. He thought of her heart condition. The idea of putting her under any more stress made him feel something at least.

  “So, Dorran, consider this an intervention.”

  “An ultimatum,” Stan cut in.

  Dorran raised an eyebrow. An ultimatum? What was he, a child?

  “What is this ultimatum? Rehab or out?”

  “Find a wife.”

  The words rang in Dorran’s ears. Find a wife? Marriage hadn’t even crossed his mind; he was having way too much fun being single for that. Alcohol and women were what he found solace in the most.

  Violet cleared her throat. “Did you hear me, dear. Find a wife and settle down.”

  She gave Dorran a long look and then smiled warmly. “I’m not getting any younger, and I need great grandchildren to buy clothing for.”

  Dorran put his hands over his ears.

  “I’m not listening.”

  Stan leaned back in his chair and looked at his grandmother.

  “I told you he wouldn’t take this seriously. He’s not going to change. Dorran, you’re blowing it, man. Did you even watch the news yesterday? It was all over CNBC . . .”

  Stan trailed off, lost in his anger over the rumors.

  “I can find a wife.”

  Stan and Violet turned to Dorran in unison. The number of women who would love to marry him was astronomical. He could be married by the end of the day if that was the game. With Lisa or whatever her name was

  “No problem. I’ll get married.”

  The look on Violet’s face told him it wasn’t going to be that easy. It never was when it came to his grandmother.

  “No Vegas weddings, dear. No shotgun weddings. I mean the real thing, Dorran. A real woman that you have a real connection with and, dare I say it, love. Someone responsible. Preferably.”

  Violet made sure she was clear. This wasn’t her first disciplinary trip down this road with her wild grandson. She wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily.

  Dorran sat in silence. His initial plan had already been foiled. How was he supposed to find a wife? Most women were only interested in his wallet.

  “How long?”

  “How long what?” Stan asked.

  “How long do I have to find a . . . bride.”

  “Six months to a year should be ample time. I married your grandfather not more than three months after I met him.”

  Dorran’s head popped up, and his mouth gaped in disbelief. He felt the anger inside of him rising as he looked from his grandmother to Stan. The smug look on his brother’s face alone was enough to make him want to burst.

  He grunted and took one hand to his temple, attempting to rub the frustration away “One year? Most couples date for a couple of years before even talking about weddings, yet you want me to get married in a year?”

  There had to be some way out of this. Could they even legally do this to him?

  “And what about the company in the meantime?” He asked, aggressiveness clear in his voice.

  Violet sighed gently. She had hoped this would have gone over better with him. However, she knew his bad boy behavior had reached a breaking point.

  “Stan will take your place as interim CEO. The press release has already been drawn up. That’s what the meeting this morning was about. I wanted the senior staff to know. The press release will say you will focus on a special project.”

  Dorran couldn’t help but laugh. “Special project?”

  “That’s right. This is truly a private matter, so best to keep the media at bay.”

  He tilted his head to stare at Stan. “And if I don’t agree with all of this?”

  “You’ll be out,” Stan said.

  Violet raised a hand to Stan to calm him down.

  “I don’t want to even go there, my boy. Your vision has created immense wealth for so many people and made the world a better place. But the board isn’t happy with your behavior, and we’ll have to take further action. No. I don’t know what that further action might be and I hope I don’t have to find out, Dorran.”

  Dorran had to play this wisely. There was no getting out of this without agreeing to this shitty ultimatum. He needed time.

  “Fine.” His words weren’t exactly convincing, something that Violet caught on to with ease. The look on her face said she wasn’t satisfied.

  “How am I going to meet this woman that you approve of and woo her within sixth months to a year?”

  Violet laughed. “Dorran, you seem to have no trouble making friends.”

  Stan leaned forward and softened his look.

  “We want the best for you, bro. We need you—your best self. You may not believe it, but I mean it, man. So I’m gonna take matters into my own hands. By the end of the day, I’ll have a blind date set up for you. A respectable, incredible woman. She’s smarter than you. You might actually have a chance if you play your cards right.”

  Dorran could hardly believe it. He smiled.

  “My little brother, a matchmaker. I love it. Hey,
she better be hot.”

  Chapter Three

  Being late was something Kerry should have been used to by now. San Francisco traffic. She pulled off the freeway and drove the few blocks to the restaurant. No biggie. It’s not even a date—a real date, anyway. Just a favor for her friend Stan.

  Heck, it was practically a business meeting. Still, being late sucked. It wasn’t her style.

  “Is he the one?” Rox had asked her just a few days before.

  They both knew what that meant. Was Dorran Knight the billionaire frog she was going to kiss and turn into her Prince Charming?

  “Dang, I’d kiss that frog six ways to Tuesday, as my dad would say,” Rox had replied.

  She thought of Rox as she pulled up in front of the valet parking stand. I’m almost there. Wish me luck, Rox.

  The truth was that Kerry wasn’t the type to need luck, and though she’d declared to Rox and the universe that Dorran Knight wasn’t going to be her Prince Charming, there was this little complication deep inside of her. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.

  The guy was a hunk, but Dorran wasn’t her type. He was all bad boy billionaire. All bro, no brains. He was known to be juvenile, arrogant, self-centered . . . oversexed. So shallow. She had always been attracted to the cerebral types, the guys who could hold their own with her intellectually and emotionally.

  A painful surge ricocheted through her as she thought of Eric. And what’s that gotten you?

  She slammed on the brakes and got out of the car with a bad taste in her mouth. Yup, Dorran Knight was about as opposite as you could get from Eric and the other men Kerry had dated. As she made her way into the restaurant, there was one thought in her mind: My biological clock is ticking.

  She was a full 15 minutes late. Damn it. She let out a breath. Part of her figured he’d be late too. That played into his reputation, after all. So, what the hell? Loosen up, Kerry, she thought to herself. This IS NOT going anywhere, anyway. It’s just a favor for a friend.

  “Reservations for Knight.” The host quickly told her that “Mr. Knight” had not yet arrived and led her to their table. Well, at least he wasn’t waiting for her. She sat there for a few minutes, feeling smug in her full understanding of the Dorran Knight. She already had the guy figured out.

  Checking her watch, Kerry found herself wondering just how long it would be before he’d grace her with his presence. She opened the menu, glancing over it as she waited. As she looked over the food options, the head waiter approached her.

  “Pardon me, madame. But Mr. Knight asks that you join him.”

  “Yes. I’m waiting. Is his highness here? Finally.”

  The waiter cleared his throat. “No. Uh, yes. He’s here. But he’d like you to join him in the Overlook.”

  “The what?”

  “The Overlook Terrace. He would be most grateful if you’d dine with him in the terrace.”

  “Where is it?”

  The waiter pointed toward the ceiling. “Up there.”

  Kerry looked up and saw only ceiling.

  A few minutes later, the waiter was closing an old accordion-style elevator door and pulling the level to the roof. The old elevator rumbled to life, slightly jerked, and slowly began rising past the diners below.

  When they reached the top, the waiter pulled back the grate with some trouble and pushed a large red door that creaked loudly as it opened into the California sunshine so bright that Kerry had to turn away for a second.

  When she refocused, the waiter had his left arm extended with the palm of his hand facing upward. “After you, madam.”

  Kerry wearily stepped out of the elevator and onto the roof of the building. She suddenly felt out of breath as she took in the beautiful city’s sights from 25 stories up. The floor was set in terra cotta tiles and on the far end was what looked to Kerry as a koi pond. And everywhere there were red lanterns in the traditional Chinese style. On the far end was a red canopy and underneath it a complete dinner service.

  And there he was, Dorran Knight, puffing on a cigar and taking in the stunning view of the Golden Gate bridge.

  Not bothering to look, Dorran raised his hand to wave the waiter away. “Thank you, Henry. That’ll be all for now. We’ll order in 5.”

  And in a flash, the waiter was gone and they were alone.

  “Something tells me you don’t do this with all your dates,” Kerry said.

  Dorran lodged his cigar on a crystal ashtray and stood.

  Wow. He’s freakin’ gorgeous, was the first thought that ran through Kerry’s mind.

  “How much?”

  Kerry peered at his face, which showed no emotion.“What?”

  “My loving brother. How much is paying you . . . for this little intervention thing?”

  Kerry could feel her mercury rising. Her face felt warm.

  “First of all, Stan is an old friend of mine. Second, I don’t accept payments for blind dates with assholes. Though I should, come to think of it. And third, Mr. Knight, you are most definitely an ass. How dare you?”

  Dorran grabbed his cigar and took another puff. He looked her up and down and grinned from ear to ear. “Wow. Sexy and feisty. I have to give it up to Stan, he’s got great taste in women.”

  That was all Kerry needed. She turned on her heels and began to leave.

  “You’re right.”

  Kerry stopped.

  “I’m an asshole. But this is the best view of the Golden Gate anywhere in the city, and I guarantee you, you won’t find a finer Cabernet this side of Napa.”

  Dorran walked up to Kerry and took her hand. “Blind dates aren’t normally my thing.”

  “They aren’t mine, either,” Kerry snapped. His soft southern drawl made a shiver run down her spine, but that only annoyed her.

  “And yet here we are.”

  Dorran hadn’t known much about his date. All he was told was that Stan knew Kerry from his playing days with the San Francisco Titans, the team in which Dorran now had a five percent ownership stake. He knew she was some kind of shrink. Although he wasn’t one for the mind games, she was likely one of the few respectable women willing to go on a date with him.

  His eyes slid over her, taking in all of her curves as he gave her a once over. “You look wonderful.”

  “I suppose you aren’t too bad looking yourself,” she said.

  Taking her hand gently, Dorran brought it to his face, placing a gentle kiss to the soft skin of the back of her hand. “Oh, darlin’, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Playboy or not, rudeness didn’t sit all that well on him. He was a Southern boy, after all, having grown up in Atlanta. His grandmother had taught him much better than that.

  Dorran made sure he pulled out her chair and pushed it in for Kerry. The more he got a feel for Kerry, the more he got a sense of what Stan was up to. Dorran knew Kerry’s profile to a T: a career woman, accomplished, successful, and the ideal candidate for a picture-perfect wife.

  Kerry felt odd. He was an ass all right, but he was clearly an alpha male. This guy took orders from no one. He was arrogant, for sure, but there was a confidence that she found sexy as hell. And that body. And those freakin’ eyes. She’d be insane if she tried to pretend he didn’t move her in certain places.

  He doesn’t fit the plan, Kerry. This is strictly a favor.

  The waiter returned to take their drink order. Kerry tried to quickly glance over the drinks menu to find something to order, but Dorran didn’t skip a beat.

  “Bring us the Tierra Roja. The 2012, Henry.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Kerry smiled without looking up from her menu. “Make that a white, please.”

  Dorran couldn’t help but smirk and nodded to the waiter. “The lady knows what she wants.”

  “Oh, I know exactly what I want,” she said. Her wink punctuated the sentence. Although not always the flirty type, Dorran seemed like fun. She might as well embrace it. What was the harm in enjoying herself?

  The table was silent for
a moment as they looked over the menu. Through their silence, they couldn’t help but the peer up every now and then and take each other in, size one another up.

  Dorran had to admit that she was attractive. She had curves for days. Her body was almost as perfectly shaped as a coke bottle. Being the type used to the tall, slender models of the party scene, this was a welcomed change.

  There was no comparison for Kerry when it came to Dorran and Eric. He had such a carefree attitude about him, something that relaxed even her own fast-paced personality. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes and a crooked grin to match. He wasn’t too hard on the eyes either.

  “You can order whatever you like. Dinner is on me.”

  A sly grin crossed Kerry’s face, but she didn’t look up from her menu. “Well, that is normally how a date works, Mr. Knight.”

  “This is pleasure, not business,” he said, placing his menu down to focus on her. “Call me Dorran.”

  “Well, Dorran, thank you for dinner, then.”

  Anything to get you to marry me, he thought to himself. How hard could it be to get this girl to fall in love with him?

  He wasn’t lacking when it came to looks. Although Kerry already had money, she wasn’t anywhere near a billionaire. He had plenty to bring to the table, if only she were willing to accept the terms. Maybe getting married wouldn’t be too hard after all.

  The waiter came back, bringing the most expensive bottle of white wine in the house. He poured each of them a glass, placing the bottle on the table when he was done. Dorran had no doubt they’d finish that bottle and likely another by the end of the evening. That’d be the pregame for the party later that evening.

  “A charcuterie board with a side of jumbo shrimp to start us off.”

  Kerry was sure Dorran was trying to impress her. In all honesty, it was rather cute. Not many guys actively tried to impress her.

  “Maybe the lady would like something else?”

  Kerry peered over the appetizers quickly, before shaking her head. “You have pretty good taste.” She flashed a smile at the waiter, watching as he headed for the kitchen to put in their order.

  “So, Kerry. You’re a shrink.”

  “You’ve checked me out. Full background check. The whole nine? Wow. I’m flattered, I think.”

 

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