Can't Buy My Love: Billionaire and Virgin Romance Collection
Page 72
He is the one person that makes me truly happy. I can't believe how everything worked out between us. I honestly didn't think it was going to be possible. I consider myself lucky just to have met him, but to actually be married to him is my dream come true. He is the most kind, caring and supportive man. I know he might not have seemed that way at first, but it takes a while for a person to open up and for you to get to know the real them.
He encouraged me to keep hosting auctions. Though I no longer participate, obviously, I was glad to keep that source of income. Between that money, and his support I was able to repair and make so many improvements to my business. I was able to expand my store and now offer floral services, just like my grandmother and I dreamed! The part I'm most proud of is that some of the flowers I use come from my own personal garden.
Gabriel knew how much I loved the garden where we had our first date, so I was able to convince him to help me plant a massive one at our home. Those are some of my favorite memories. I giggle as they pop into my head. It was adorable how silly he looked the first time he picked up a trowel, but now he fusses over the PH balance in the soil like a worried mom. Shocking how people can change for the ones they love. I stare at my reflection again, and do a little twirl in my dress. I love this design.
On a table next to my makeup is my bridal bouquet. Its elegant and lovely. I pick it up and admire it for a second before inhaling the fragrance from the flowers. I handpicked certain ones from my personal garden at home to create this bouquet. I wanted it to be extra special for today. I look at the petals on each flower. I realize how much love and care we put into that garden. I also realize that I put that same amount of time and energy into planning every detail of this wedding, and our relationship. You want to live out your dreams of your fairytale life. It’s only natural that everything should be perfect.
If you are going to do something like this then you should put all your effort into it and make it the best you can. I put the bouquet down and put a few more pins in my hair. My red hair seems brighter today. I'm wearing a little makeup, but not much. Gabriel calls me a 'natural beauty' and loves my freckles. I gasp as I realize that it's time to start the ceremony.
I hurry to put on my heels, careful not to damage the hem of my dress. I grab my bouquet and walk out of the bathroom. I wait by the doors to the chapel. I take a deep breath. My heart is pounding in my chest. Gabriel and my future is waiting for me on the other side of these doors. Suddenly it hits me, and I feel dizzy. It was never about the actual ceremony. All the planning and preparation was useless. All that I ever wanted was to find my Gabriel. He is my fairytale, not this wedding. I would be happy getting married barefoot in the woods as long as I ended up with him.
That thought becomes even more clear as the chapel doors swing open and I see him standing there. The music plays and I walk slowly down the aisle to him. Tears of joy feel my eyes. I can see his smile from here. Once I reach the altar we exchange vows. Afterwards, we opt for a sweet, quick kiss.
We felt it was better to save the more passionate stuff for the honeymoon.
We hold hands as we walk back down the aisle together. Neither of us can stop smiling. From here, we are heading straight to the reception. It feels like everything is happening so fast that I can't wrap my head around it. But then again, fast seems to be the only speed we know.
Everyone cheers us as we walk into the reception hall. My friend Tammy gives me a big hug. I hug her back and follow Gabriel to our seats at the table. There is music playing and everyone is eating from the buffet. They are talking and having a great time. Suddenly Gabriel picks up his champagne glass and taps it with the handle of a fork. "Can I have everyone's attention please?" He asks.
Everyone stops talking and turns to look at him. "I'd like to thank you all for sharing this joyous experience with us. I'd also like to thank my beautiful bride for all her hard work in creating such a memorable event, " he says.
He's trying to keep tears out of his eyes as he talks. I'm hanging on his every word.
"Not only has she invested so much time and effort into the wedding and her business, but in me as well. I'd like to thank her for never giving up on me. For bringing love into my life, and guiding me on this journey. As long as she is by my side, I'll be happy for the rest of my life. To my beautiful wife ,Lorelai. " he says, holding out his champagne glass.
"To Lorelai!" Everyone echoes him.
They all sip their champagne. I pull him in for another kiss and wipe the tears from my cheeks.
I stand with my glass. "It’s my turn to make a toast.," I announce.
Everyone chuckles and raises their glasses again. "I never thought I would make it to this day. I'm not talking about the ceremony, but about finding my soulmate," I pause to look at Gabe and continue talking.
"Though we met under crazy circumstances, my heart called out for you. I knew there was something in you that I needed and vice versa. We have had an amazing life together so far, and I think it will only get better. We have brought nothing but joy and happiness to each other’s lives. I believe that's what true love is. That's the type of love I have always dreamed of and now I have it. I look forward to my future with you because I know it will be filled with nothing but love and happiness. I couldn't ask for anything better than that." My voice breaks a little on the last word.
Several people including Gabriel are also teary eyed. "To Gabriel, my love and my life, and my future." People echo my toast and we all sip champagne. Gabriel pulls me into a hug and gives me the sweetest kiss. He looks at me and I can tell he is at a loss for words. We just smile at each other and enjoy the rest of the reception.
It’s the perfect way to kick off the rest of our lives.
THE END
Scratching Her Vinyl
Billionaire Auctions in Bloom Book 8
Copyright © 2020 Jamie Knight Romance.
Jamie Knight
Your Dirty Little Secret Romance Author
All rights reserved.
Chapter 1 - Juliette
I heave a sigh and look around at the dead store. Music is playing in the background, soft, so as not to overwhelm my customers.
What customers? I ask myself bitterly. It’s been empty all day.
I reach up and fix the scarf that holds back my dark waves, hoping that my worries aren’t etched on my face. Especially when I actually see someone pause outside the store. I put on a friendly smile and almost try to will them to come inside. After a quick glance in the window, however, they shake their head and walk off. Another sigh escapes me, this time one of defeat.
I settle onto the stool behind the counter, propping my elbows up on the surface and cupping my chin in my hands.
How did things get this bad? I wonder to myself.
I think back over the years of owning this record shop. My brother Florian and I had opened this place together. We bought it together, and it had been our pride and joy. We’d taken this little place and made it shine. But now I’m beginning to wonder if I should still keep trying. I’ve done my best, every single day, to keep this place alive, but no matter what I do, things just get worse and worse.
This whole little strip mall seems to be dying off, and most of the other businesses that used to be here have either shut down or moved away.
No matter what gimmicks I’ve tried to implement, or sales I try to have, I just can't get business anymore. The decline started a year and half ago, right around the time Florian died.
My chest aches and I gaze out the window, remembering what it was like before, when the two of us ran things together. Business was good back then because he left such a vivid impression on people.
No one could draw in the customers like he could. Shoot, the whole strip mall saw a lot more action back then. It's not that we chose a bad location or anything, it's just a sign of the times, I suppose.
I look out all the open expanse of the shop and the grief threatens to swallo
w me whole. God, I miss him. My brother just had this amazing, magnetic personality. I can almost see him walking around talking and smiling with the customers.
He seemed to draw in people of all ages. He was so patient with the elderly customers, listening with genuine interest to their stories as they browsed the vinyl trying to retain some shred of their rebellious youth. And even the younger crowd, the ones who rolled their eyes at our old-fashioned wares, he roped in.
He could find something for anyone, sometimes just by looking at them. It was his superpower.
Even though we’re in the digital age of everything, under his care, the business seemed to flourish. Maybe it was because we both had such bright personalities and worked well together. We both had this crazy energy and had so much fun together. Running the shop wasn’t work, it was just what we loved.
But Florian was in the wrong place at the wrong time, just one time. And the drunk driver who took his life and turned mine upside down will be getting out of jail in another year or so.
It’s almost like some part of me died with my brother. That bubbly, happy version of me is nowhere to be found, and I feel like that life is draining out of the shop, too.
I still love this record shop because it's a part of us, and I'll fight my hardest to keep it going, but I feel like I can only do so much. I sigh and push myself away from the counter. I need to focus and get through this day so I can get home.
Ugh, home.
Although the thought of relaxing was tempting, I knew that wasn’t exactly what was waiting for me there. Ever since I started having problems with the business, I seemed to be buried under a never ending pile of bills. There just never seemed to be enough money to pay for everything. I had a stack at home that was getting dangerously close to past due.
So I know I won’t be able to relax, I know I'll end up spending my evening trying to figure out how to handle them once again. Not that I really have anything better to do, anyway.
I have no friends. I can’t think of the last time I actually had a date. I have no social life, so the only thing I really can do is go home and worry about the store. The heavy, miserable feelings weigh on my chest, and I wonder how much longer I can hold up to the crushing grief.
Feeling the need for something, anything to alleviate some of the ache, I rise to my feet and walk over to a stack of albums I keep nearby. I play these to entertain customers whenever they show up, or just to break the silence in here. I flip through the stack, searching for one in particular. When I find what I’m looking for, I carefully slide it from the cover and swap it out with the record on the player. I listen to familiar popping sound of the vinyl before the music starts.
A smile lights up my face. Immediately, some of the weight lifts away and I feel a little better as the music brings up older, happier memories. The record was one that my grandmother used to play, and this song in particular was one of her favorites. For just a moment, I actually manage to forget about all of my worries. I just lose myself in the music and stare out the window.
I'm not even aware of what time it is, or how long I’ve been standing here. I just want to enjoy this song. I promise myself I'll make time to deal with everything later, but I’m grateful to have a moment just to breathe. Actually, it's the only thing that has brought me even the slightest semblance of peace since I got the phone call that changed my whole world.
Maybe because listening to it was a shared pastime of ours. Hell, it was more than a past time, music was the core of who we both were. So sometimes it makes me feel better, but sometimes it hurts, too. I just have to kind of take it a day at a time, I guess.
It feels like the song ends too quickly, so I start it over again and spend a few minutes staring absently at the familiar cover art of the album. I smile once more as I remember looking at this same image a million times over the years in my grandmother’s house.
It’s small, but the nostalgia and positive memories manage light a little spark of hope in my chest. There’s always a way. I just have to find it.
Chapter 2 - Juliette
The next day I'm trying to keep my promise, at home seated at my kitchen table. Bills and papers are spread out across the table in front of me in mountains of organized chaos. I'm scribbling down some numbers in a notebook and checking my work on the calculator next to it.
After a few minutes I sigh and throw my pen down in frustration, rubbing my temples. I need to step away from this for a few minutes or my head’s going to explode. I get up from the table and walk over to the sink, pouring myself a glass of water and taking a massive gulp. The cold liquid does a little to settle my stomach, even if it does nothing for my nerves. I’m trying so hard not to let this stress get to me, but it doesn't seem to be working.
After going over everything, there was no denying it: I was going to be short on the rent for the shop for next month. No matter how many times I redid the numbers and tried to budget, the money to pay it just wasn't there.
I take another gulp water and force myself to take some deep, calming breaths before I start having a full-fledged panic attack.
Once I feel a little calmer, emotions under control, I can think more clearly. I start to try and brainstorm ideas on how to raise money quickly, but the more I think about it, what I really need to do is stall for more time until I can get the money.
That means I’m going to have to call the owner of the building and talk to him. I know what I have to do, but that doesn’t make it any easier to do. I take another drink, wishing briefly that there was a little “liquid courage” instead of just water, and put my glass in the sink.
"It’s now or never." I tell myself aloud.
I settle myself back down at the table and pick up my cell phone, scrolling for the landlord’s number in my contacts list. It doesn’t take me long to find, and after a deep breath to steel myself, I press the little phone icon and lift the phone to my ear.
I try to hold onto that calm I’ve collected as I wait for him to answer the phone. Our family has known the old man for a long time. He was a good friend of my grandfather. Hopefully if it comes down to it, I can play on his sympathies and nostalgia and convince him to give me just a little more time to come up with the money. I hate to do it, I’ve never had to stoop to something this low, but I don’t know what else I can do.
Finally he picks up the phone. "Hello?" He answers, sounding a little annoyed.
I wince. Not off to a great start, but I try not to let that discourage me from my plan. "Hi, Mr. Stevens,” I say sweetly, “It's Juliette. Albert’s granddaughter, with the record store?"
"Oh, yes, yes,” his tone softens and I feel that spark of hope return, “What can I do for you?"
"Well,” I hedge, “The reason I'm calling is I was just going over the budget for the shop. Sales haven't been going that well and I've been having some trouble financially. I'm barely able to afford all the bills. I was wondering if maybe you could give me a little extension this month, until I'm able to get the money to pay you the rent?"
The words fall out in a tumble, and I’m a little relieved once they’re out in the open, but anticipation is heavy in my gut as I wait for his answer.
He is silent for a long moment, and while I’m hoping for the best, hoping he’s just mulling it over, I know every silent second that ticks by is a bad sign. "Well, Juliette,” he says finally, “I’m sorry, I wish I could just say yes to you, but I don't know if I will be able to do that. You see I’ve had a very generous offer recently from someone who’s interested in buying the whole strip, and I can’t promise you what their rent agreement is gonna look like.”
My heart sinks, but I listen patiently as he goes on: “I really am sorry. I would very much like to help you, but I'm old and ready to retire. I’d been thinking about selling for a while now anyways…."
“It’s all right, Mr. Stevens,” I say softly, “I understand.”
"You know, maybe the new owners can help
you and give you your extension. You're a nice person. Would you like their information?" He asks.
"Oh yes! Any help I can get is wonderful." I reply gratefully.
I don’t exactly have high hopes, anyone shelling out the money for a rental property like this probably isn’t going to be thrilled to immediately get a request like this. But I grab a pen and start writing it down on one of the dozens of pieces of scratch paper in front of me. He reads off a number that sounds vaguely familiar and an address
"The lady's name is Courtney. She’s been so sweet, I’m sure she’ll understand and help you out,” he tells me cheerfully even as my heart sinks with dread.
"Ok, Mr. Stevens. Thank you so much," I say as I hang up.
I study the information he gave me. "Courtney…" I mumble to myself, “It just had to be her.”
I know this woman. My old high school bully. I go to the kitchen table and look through all the papers. I find the morning newspaper and open it. There's a big article about Courtney and what a successful woman she has become. She's a ruthless real estate developer. That’s why her number seemed so familiar, it’s got a lot of threes and it’s plastered all over at least a dozen billboards throughout town.
Apparently she has been “revitalizing” sections of the town by demolishing older buildings and replacing them with expensive shopping centers. Those places are all the same. So boring, and over-priced in my opinion. I put the paper down and on a whim, I run back to the phone and tap a few buttons on the screen. "Hello?" Mr. Stevens asks again.
"Hi, Mr. Stevens, it’s Juliette, sorry to bother you again. There’s something I forgot to ask you. If it's not too much trouble could you tell me how much the offer made was and how long before the sale is final?" I hold my breath as I wait.