The Billionaire's Email-Order Bride

by Vivi Holt

  John shook his hand. “Ah…where to begin.”

  “Wouldn’t have anything to do with that new mystery wife of yours, would it?” Kenny asked.

  “She’s not a mystery.”

  “No? Seems to me like my good friend would’ve told me something about the woman he wanted to marry before the blessed event. And yet, I’ve only met her in the lobby a couple of times and know very little about her. Like, where did you meet? And how long were you dating for? These are the kinds of things a guy should know, right?”

  His eyes twinkled but John knew he was right. He should’ve told Kenny, he just hadn’t known where to begin. If he shared that part of his heart and life with other people, what would they think? He didn’t want them thinking poorly of Eve either. Didn’t want her to get hurt.

  Still, Kenny wasn’t just anyone. And he had a few things he needed to get off his chest. Maybe it was time to open up to someone other than his very busy brother, whose usual response to most issues or complaints he shared was to tell him to, “suck it up, Buttercup.”

  “Fine,” John sighed. “Run with me and I’ll tell you everything.”

  Kenny arched an eyebrow. “Really? Great. Just so you know, I’ve been training pretty hard though, so you may not be able to keep up.”

  John laughed. “Bring it on.”

  By the time they’d reached the park at the end of their run and were just down the block from their apartment building, both men were out of breath and dripping with perspiration. John had forgotten how much more he pushed himself when he worked out with someone else.

  He hadn’t done it in so long, usually preferring to spend some time alone at the beginning of each day. But it’d been good to talk to his friend, to share what he was feeling and going through. Kenny had been more supportive than he’d thought he would be about the whole arranged marriage situation. And he already felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders just by sharing.

  “So, what you’re telling me is that the amazing woman who you somehow found via an email-order bride service is so beautiful, talented, kind, and fun that you’re falling in love with her?” Kenny sank onto a park bench, punctuating each phrase with a heavy breath.

  John pressed his hands to his hips and leaned forward. Nausea surged in his gut and he swallowed it down as a bead of sweat dripped from his forehead to the ground. “Um, yeah that’s about right.”

  Kenny shook his head. “I swear, you are the luckiest—”

  “Not always.” John interrupted him with a frown.

  Kenny assented with a nod. “True, not always. Sorry.”

  “But yes, in this case, I have to agree. I can’t believe how amazing she is, and that I’m in this situation. Still, I’m just going to get my heart broken, and that’s exactly the thing I was trying to avoid.”

  “Sorry dude. But maybe you’ll just have to take the risk this time.”

  John rubbed the stubble sprouting on his chin. He’d have to think about it. And he wasn’t even sure where Eve stood, or how she felt about him. The business acquisition he was working on wasn’t helping any either. “And then work is taking all my energy at the moment.”

  “What’s going on there?”

  John often took his work-related problems to Kenny for some insight. His friend had a business of his own, running a fashion house in downtown Atlanta. He’d had quick success, even garnering substantial media attention at the time, and ever since had built his business into a thriving, mature fashion conglomerate that had earned the respect of the industry elite.

  “I don’t know. It just feels like everything is hard going. The staff seem tired, my executives especially. They’re lackluster, that’s the best way I can describe it. They’re not innovating or coming up with creative solutions to problems. I feel like I’m carrying everyone on my back.”

  “Sounds like everyone’s a bit burned out, dude.”

  John nodded slowly. “I think you’re right.”

  “So, what are you gonna do about it?”

  His lips pursed. “I don’t know. Make them take a vacation?”

  Kenny stood to his feet and stretched out one thigh, holding his foot against the back of his leg. “That’s a good idea. And you could do something fun together, you know, to get those creative juices flowing again. Like a retreat or something. Just get away together and relax.”

  “A retreat.” John’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a great idea.”

  “Yeah, we do one for our leadership team every year. It helps everyone to bond, to grow their relationships, and gives them a chance to get back to the basics—having fun and building things together.”

  John nodded. “I’m going to do it. That’s just what we need. It’s what I need as well. A chance to get away from it all, relax and enjoy each other’s company.”

  “I’m glad I could help,” Kenny said. “Now, I bet you can’t beat me back to the apartment.”

  John winked, then set off at a run. “Eat my dust!” he called back over his shoulder.

  “So, a weekend away with the hubby?” questioned Petra, her shirt sleeves rolled up to her elbows and flour coating her wrinkled hands.

  Eve smiled shyly as she stirred a mixture of sliced peaches in brown sugar and cinnamon on the stove top. “Yep.”

  “And?”

  “And it’s going to be fun. It’s a work thing, for John, and I’m helping out by running a cooking class.”

  “Sounds romantic.” Petra rolled her eyes with a chuckle.

  Eve tipped her head to one side. She knew Petra was just teasing, but she was actually looking forward to the trip more than she’d thought she would. Over the past month working at the restaurant, she’d told Petra all about her relationship with John, how it was a business arrangement, nothing more. But ever since she’d bared her heart to her boss, Petra seemed determined to find a deeper connection between the two of them.

  “Why are you set on us being more than friends?” Eve asked, one eyebrow quirked.

  Petra’s eyes sparkled. “I’m a sucker for love.”

  “But you’re…”

  “Single? Yes, I’m single. But I was in love once.” She pushed her hands into the bread dough on the counter in front of her with a grunt.

  Eve’s brow furrowed. She hadn’t known that about her boss, she’d assumed Petra had always been single. She had no reason for that assumption, but the idea had settled in the back of her mind without her realizing it, and she’d never questioned it.

  “You were? With who?”

  Petra grunted again and rolled the dough into a ball then set it in a greased bowl by the window and covered it with a cloth. She faced Eve and used one hand to tuck a stray strand of hair back into her purple and orange striped skull cap, leaving behind a streak of flour on her forehead. “My husband.”

  “What? You were married?”

  Petra smiled wryly. “Is that so hard to believe?”

  Eve’s cheeks flushed with warmth. “No, of course not. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I just didn’t know…”

  “Well, I don’t talk about him much. He died a long time ago and I’ve never really gotten over losing him. We started this restaurant together when we were first married. It was his idea, his dream. And I went along with it. Then, when he died, I couldn’t bear the idea of selling the place, so I just kept it going, even though…” Her voice trailed off, and she lowered herself into a wicker chair pushed up against one wall of the kitchen. A row of saucepans hung by her head, almost obscuring her from Eve’s view.

  Eve stepped closer and inhaled sharply. “I’m sorry, that must’ve been hard.”

  Petra’s lips pulled into a thin smile. “It was, but it was a long time ago. Now, the memories are sweet, not bitter as they once were.”

  Eve nodded. “What were you going to say? Even though…”

  “Even though I never really wanted this place.” Petra glanced around the kitchen. The sea blue paint was faded in places, worn through in oth
ers. Two massive ovens lined one wall, with burners on top. Herbs hung drying in bunches over a large island that split the room in two. An open window ran down the other side of the room, allowing them to pass plates of food out to the wait staff in the dining area.

  “You didn’t? What did you want?”

  Petra sighed. “I wanted to see the world. A restaurant was like a big ol’ noose to me, tied right up around my neck. But it was Jerry’s dream, and he was mine, so we opened this place together.”

  “Well, I’m glad you opened Pickles…I love it here.” Eve studied the kitchen, her smile widening. It warmed her heart. The depth of it, the stories she imagined its walls contained, the things it’d seen over the many years of its existence. It made her feel young, new. It was like an old woman watching her with a benevolent smile, welcoming her in to learn lessons, gain wisdom and insight within its warm walls.

  Petra nodded, then chuckled. “It’s my life now, whether I wanted it or not. I don’t know what I’d do without the old place.” Her smile faded, and she stood with another sigh. “The lunch crowd will be here in an hour. I’m going to get started making burger patties.”

  Eve frowned as Petra walked away. There’d been a hint of sadness in her eyes just now that squeezed Eve’s heart. She hadn’t known Petra long, but the two of them had formed a fast friendship. Petra was a warm, friendly, and encouraging employer. Everyone on the staff at the restaurant seemed to have been there a long time, and all had a great deal of affection and respect for their boss as far as Eve could tell. Whatever was bothering Petra, Eve wished she could do something to help her. Something to show her just how much they all appreciated her.

  She lifted the pan from the stove and set it aside to cool. She still had to make the cake portion of the peach cobbler they were serving for dessert. It was always a big hit, especially when they added a large scoop of their homemade vanilla bean ice cream to the side.

  Eve headed for the pantry, still thinking about Petra and that mournful expression. She’d get to the bottom of it somehow. Maybe her boss would open up to her over a glass of wine after work. Though so far Petra hadn’t exactly been an open book when it came to her personal life. Still, it was worth a try. But it would have to wait until after the retreat.

  Chapter 11

  Eve pushed a last set of pajamas into her suitcase and pushed the lid shut. It didn’t close all the way, so she leaned against it, bouncing up and down a little until she could pull the zipper toward her. The zipper stuck halfway around, so she climbed up onto the bed, straddled the suitcase and sat down on the lid then leaned forward to continue zipping, her tongue hanging out one corner of her mouth.

  A cough in the doorway to her bedroom caught her attention. She looked up to see John leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his V-neck T-shirt, biceps bulging under his sleeves, and a mischievous smile on his face.

  “Do you need any help with that?”

  She shook her head, frowning. “No. I can manage. Thank you. I’m almost done.”

  She bounced one last time and the zip flew shut. With a triumphant shout, she smiled at him. “See?”

  He chuckled. “It’s just amazing to watch you in action.”

  She rolled her eyes as she climbed down from the bed. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, buddy.”

  He laughed. “You ready to go?”

  “Ready.”

  He reached for her suitcase, and she slung her carry on bag over her shoulder then followed him down the hall to the elevator. One of the building’s staff members took their luggage and stepped into the elevator with it.

  “Want a drink before we go?” asked John, disappearing into the kitchen.

  She followed him. “No thank you.”

  He filled a glass with water, then leaned against the counter to drink it. “You know that offer you made?”

  “To run a cooking class on the retreat?”

  He nodded. “Yep. I think it’s a good idea. If you’re still up for it?”

  She smiled. “It would be my pleasure. I just want to help, and if teaching someone how to make Bombe Alaska enables them to relax and be more creative, then I’m in.”

  He chuckled. “I really think it’ll be great. Okay Wife, let’s go.”

  As he strode by her, he reached for her hand and slipped his over hers. She hurried along beside him, her hand tingling at his touch. His hand was large and completely covered her own. His body beside hers was tall, strong, and lithe. She felt safe beside him, warm and content. Was this how it was to be married? Even without the love, it felt good to be by his side.

  John peered around the room. They’d hired out the commercial kitchen at the resort where they were staying on retreat for Eve’s cooking class, and he was happy to see every member of his executive team, as well as a few spouses, were present.

  They’d decided to hold the retreat at a resort in eastern Georgia. Surrounded by farmland and long, narrow roads. The earth was red clay, leafy trees swayed in the breeze, and grassy golfing greens blanketed the softly rolling hills that surrounded the sprawling hotel on three sides.

  He’d introduced Eve as his wife to the team the first evening over dinner, and he could tell everyone was shocked, curious, and trying hard not to stare. They all wanted to know who was this woman who’d stolen his heart and won him over so quickly? Since he’d never mentioned her to anyone but his brother, the rest of the team had been completely thrown by the announcement, but to their credit, most of them didn’t show it, at least not openly.

  “Good morning everyone,” began Eve.

  She was confident and charming as she introduced herself, ran through her qualifications and talked about what she hoped to achieve through the class. He could tell she was nervous, but only because he knew what the redness in her cheeks meant. To anyone else, her presentation was calm and professional.

  He was completely impressed with her skill, both in cooking and in leading the group through the lesson. She was patient, fun, and easy going, even cracking a few jokes along the way that had everyone laughing in unison. Within the first ten minutes, he watched in amazement as the entire executive team of his multinational corporation moved from tense curiosity to relaxed acceptance of Eve’s role.

  She moved around between the two counters that ran parallel through the kitchen, checking on each person’s progress as they put together their apple pies, with pastry made from scratch. When she approached him, he purposely squashed his pastry shell since he wanted some of her attention all to himself. He couldn’t believe he felt a stab of jealousy over sharing her with the others.

  “What have you done here?” she asked with a smile.

  He shook his head. “Not sure. I think I need help.”

  She grinned, tipping her head to one side. “Really? Hmmm…I guess I’ll just have to jump on in then.”

  He nodded serenely. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  She reached for his pastry just as he did, so her hands landed on top of his. She jolted in place, and a small gasp escaped her lips. He was glad to see her cheeks turn an even brighter shade of pink than they had been.

  “Sorry,” he whispered, watching her closely.

  Her face was beside his, her hands on his, her body pressed against his shoulder.

  “It’s fine. Here, this is how you do it.”

  She began massaging the pastry into a ball, then took the rolling pin, pushing his hands onto the pin before covering them again with her own. He smiled.

  Tingles ran up and down his arms, and his heart thundered. The only thing he could think of, the only thought running through his mind, was how he could prolong the moment.

  But too soon she was gone again. She moved on to the person beside him, and he was left scooping his apple mixture into the pie crust she’d helped him prepare, the scent of lavender lingering in the air beside him.

  John studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He was tired after their game of water polo. Bad idea in hindsight s
ince most of the leadership team wasn’t in good enough shape and by the end of the game, he’d been more worried about someone drowning in the indoor pool than whether they’d had a chance for team building.

  Still, he’d had a great time. There had even been one particularly satisfactory incident involving him and his brother, Chris, going for the ball at the same time. Chris had played goalie for the other team, and John was just about to pound the ball into the net when Chris came out to defend it. They’d tussled for a good twenty seconds before he’d finally gotten the ball past his brother’s long arms and scored the winning goal.

  In the meantime, the head of finance had clung, wheezing, to the side of the pool, and the human resources manager floated on her back, sucking in great gulps of air. Perhaps he should’ve considered a less intense sport to help build a connection.

  Somehow Eve had managed to stay out of it. She’d offered her services as the referee, though he was fairly certain she’d cheated on the score, and not on behalf of his team. They’d slaughtered the other team by at least twenty points, though the final and official scorecard didn’t reflect it. No doubt she’d adjusted the numbers so the losing team didn’t feel so bad. He grunted, recalling the grin on her face.

  After running his comb one last time through his hair, he set it down on the bathroom counter and stepped out into the hotel room. One of the benefits of this retreat had been sharing a room with his wife. At home, they had their own rooms, but here, in order to keep up appearances and not provoke any questions, they’d checked into one room. And he had to admit, so far, he was enjoying the close quarters.

  They had a suite, so there were plenty of uncomfortable sofas for him to sleep on. But she’d insisted on sharing the bed, using a long body pillow to separate the two of them.

  He was considering hiding it in a closet that night after the ball.

  Eve sailed past him with a smile to take her turn in the bathroom. The scent of lavender followed her. He inhaled slowly and spun to watch as she applied makeup, brushed her hair, and piled it on top of her head. He leaned against the wall while he studied her, arms crossed over his chest.