by Ward, Alice
I squeezed his hand back. “I couldn’t agree more.”
At the hospital, the lady at the front desk assured us she would let us know when they got Lauren into a room and insisted we have a seat and wait. We found Kennedy and the two Jacksons in the waiting area, pacing the floor.
It was less than an hour later when Asher appeared in the lobby, his face pale and his demeanor obviously shaken.
“Are you okay; is Lauren okay?” I asked frantically.
He nodded, his mouth still parted as if he wanted to speak. “It’s a girl,” he finally mumbled.
“We know it’s a girl.” My heart stopped, and I gripped Kennedy’s hand. “She’s here?” I asked in disbelief.
He nodded again and then disappeared back through the white doors, ushered by one of the nurses. She came back out after putting Asher with Lauren where he belonged.
“She was fully dilated when she arrived,” the nurse said. “The baby is doing great, but Lauren lost a lot of blood. It’s what we call a precipitate labor, and it happened so quickly her body didn’t have a chance to prepare for the birth. We’re watching her now. You can see her when we get her in a room.”
My heart ached for Lauren while I sat in that lobby. What was supposed to be a celebration was now turning into a nightmare. What did they mean she lost a lot of blood? Was she not okay? No one was telling us anything, and that look of horror on Asher’s face had me worried beyond belief. Shep held me tight and rocked me in his arms.
“She’ll be fine, she is fine. If she wasn’t, they would tell us,” he assured me.
Kennedy wasn’t sure she liked the way things were going. She kept referring to her birth and how everyone was allowed in just minutes after Little Jackson arrived. “They were still stitching me up when my mother-in-law was allowed in,” she said. “Something isn’t right.”
I pushed through the line at the front desk and demanded the woman give us some information. Her eyes looked cold and uninterested in my anguish, not caring one bit that I was standing in front of her in my wedding gown.
“They’ll let you know when they know,” she said.
“They already know. They’re back there, we’re not. I need to know.” My voice was growing louder, but the woman seemed to care less.
“Next,” she said, staring right through me.
Asher pushed through the doors right before I was ready to explode. “She’s doing better. They moved her, come with me.”
I glared at the cold hearted receptionist and motioned for everyone to follow us to the elevators.
“Nine pounds, eight ounces,” Asher said as we rode up. “It tore her up pretty good; it was a mess.” His face went pale again. Kennedy gasped at the news of the baby’s size.
“Little Jackson was only seven pounds two ounces, and I thought he was going to kill me,” she said. “So, she didn’t have any pain medication at all?”
I suddenly felt like an ass for willing the baby to come on my wedding day. Maybe I should have willed her to come two weeks ago when she wasn’t so large. The elevator doors opened, and Asher rushed out and towards the room number he had been given. We all followed.
A nurse stopped us at the door. “Only two visitors at a time,” she said sternly. Jackson pushed Kennedy forward, and Shep did the same for me. The nurse smiled at my wedding dress as I entered the room with Asher and Kennedy.
“I’m so sorry,” I gushed as soon as I saw Lauren.
She looked exhausted. Her face was pale, her hair a sweaty that stuck to her cheeks. I brushed her hair from her face and leaned in to kiss her forehead. The baby girl was wrapped in a pink blanket in her arms, already nursing and strong as anyone could hope for.
“She’s perfect,” I whispered, peeking at her little fingers curled onto the blanket.
“Why are you sorry?” Lauren asked.
“Because she was so big, I should have wanted you to have her sooner.”
Lauren laughed and hugged me. “Sweetie, she controls when she’s born, not us,” she assured me. “I just wasn’t expecting it to be at warp speed.”
I thought about Elle’s words — people aren’t perfect. That wasn’t true. This baby girl was perfect. Her mother was perfect, and her father, even though still pale and shook up, was perfect too.
We were all perfect, in our own way. Perfect for one another anyway.
The nurse must have felt bad that we all left the wedding ceremony and let Shep and Jackson into the room. Little Jackson tried to squirm out of his daddy’s arms, but he held him tight to keep him in place.
We all took our turns holding the new baby and loving on Lauren. We congratulated Asher before Lauren kicked us out, telling us she needed rest and we had a cake to cut.
Mrs. Thompson had made a banner that said: “Welcome Baby Girl.” It was hanging on the fence as we drove up to our reception. The guests were already dancing and eating, and it felt surreal that it was all for us.
The rest of the day was spent with loved ones, sharing stories about Lauren’s delivery, our adventure on the road tasting the world, Kennedy and Jackson’s plans to open a new resort in Austin, and how Shep and I made the most perfect couple.
As he took me into his arms for our first dance as man and wife, I had to agree.
Shep and me.
The perfect recipe.
THE END
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UNRAVELING THE BILLIONAIRE - THE COMPLETE SERIES
ALICE WARD
SERIES DESCRIPTION
“Unraveling the Billionaire” is a five-part Hot Alpha Billionaire Romance Series by Alice Ward. This is the complete series box set containing all 5 parts with a HEA and no cliffhangers.
*This story also features Lauren from “My Stepbrother, My Lover.”*
After graduating Harvard with a master’s degree in art, Lauren Matthews knew exactly what she wanted to do next. She left her friends, packed her bags and went back home to California. Everything was perfect … at first.
She began dating, work was going well and she had a mentor who had taken her under his wing. Her future was bright and going according to plan, until Asher Reynolds walked into her world.
Gorgeous, brilliant and extremely wealthy, Ash wasn’t your normal tech geek turned billionaire. He lived simply,
did most things for himself and guarded his privacy above all else.
But why?
What secret was he hiding? And why was he lying to her?
What are you waiting for? The complete “Unraveling the Billionaire” series with no cliffhangers is now only one click away!
This book is intended for a mature audience, 18+ only.
UNRAVELING THE BILLIONAIRE
ALICE WARD
PART 1
BOOK DESCRIPTION
This is Part 1 of “Unraveling the Billionaire” – a five part Hot Alpha Billionaire Romance Series by Alice Ward.
*This story also features Lauren from “My Stepbrother, My Lover.”*
After graduating Harvard with a master’s degree in art, Lauren Matthews knew exactly what she wanted to do next. She left her friends, packed her bags and went back home to California. Everything was perfect … at first.
She began dating, work was going well and she had a mentor who had taken her under his wing. Her future was bright and going according to plan, until Asher Reynolds walked into her world.
Gorgeous, brilliant and extremely wealthy, Ash wasn’t your normal tech geek turned billionaire. He lived simply, did most things for himself and guarded his privacy above all else.
But why?
What secret was he hiding? And why was he lying to her?
This book is intended for a mature audience, 18+ only.
CHAPTER 1
“Oh my God, Lauren. I could get used to this beautiful weather. It’s been overcast back home for the last six weeks solid. Maybe I can convince Jack and Jackson to build their next resort here in San Francisco.”
“That would be great,” I agreed with my friend, smiling into the warmth of the sun. I navigated the sidewalks of my Mission District neighborhood with Kennedy, my college roommate, and Claire, my high school best friend. We were on the hunt for a nail salon with three free chairs.
Only a few months had passed since Kennedy, her husband Jackson, and I received our graduate degrees from Harvard University. While Kennedy started studying for the bar exam and Jackson took over as Vice President of his family’s multibillion-dollar resort empire, I’d packed my bags and returned home to pursue my dreams of becoming the world’s next Pablo Picasso.
“I’m serious,” Kennedy pressed on. “I don’t know how you survived winters in Boston after a lifetime of living here.”
“That’s what I said when she left,” Claire chimed in.
“As hard as it was for me to adapt to Boston, I have a feeling it would be harder for Jackson to adapt to San Francisco,” I warned.
I loved Jackson, but he was basically the antithesis of the tech minded, free spirited people who flocked to my hometown. He came from old money, a world where men wore neckties worth more than my used Hyundai and women were judged by their jewelry and the number of volunteer committees they sat on.
“I know,” Kennedy agreed with a sigh. “I love my husband, but he’s so old-fashioned. He packed an Armani suit to wear to the opening tonight. Lucky for him, I anticipated this and packed something a little less… stuffy.”
We arrived at the salon two blocks down from my loft and were relieved to see only one other customer. Claire pushed open the door and we filed inside.
“Hello,” a redhead behind the counter greeted us. “I’m Mary. What can we do for you today?”
“Three mani-pedies,” Kennedy replied, pulling out her credit card. “On me.”
“Regular or deluxe?” Mary asked, raising an eyebrow.
“As deluxe as possible,” she insisted. “In fact, just hold the card until the end. We may want to add extras as we go.”
“No problem,” Mary agreed. She slid the card into a small file box and gestured to the polish wall. “Just make your color selections. We’ll get everything set up.”
As she spoke, two blonde women who looked like they could be mother and daughter rose from their manicure stations and moved for the pedicure chairs. The girls and I turned our attention to the polishes and I ran through my wardrobe in my head. We were going to my friend Deacon’s opening at one of San Francisco’s hottest galleries, but I still didn’t know what I was going to wear.
Kennedy seemed to read my mind. She reached for a bottle of red polish and passed it to me. “This will match anything in your closet,” she said with a wink. She selected a rose shade while Claire decided to go for French tips. We crossed the Spanish tile floors and found our technicians waiting on short stools in front of bubbling foot baths. We slipped off our sandals and climbed onto the giant leather massage chairs.
“This is Sharon and Marsha,” Mary said, gesturing to the older blonde and then the younger.
“Kennedy, Lauren, and Claire,” Kennedy rattled off, submerging her feet in the water. I kept my feet on the platform and Marsha started removing my silver polish.
“Would you like a mimosa or a glass of wine?” Mary asked.
We exchanged ‘have we landed in heaven’ glances and Kennedy raised an eyebrow. “Mimosas?”
Claire and I nodded and Mary disappeared to a back room.
“So, are you ladies having a girls’ day?” Sharon asked. She kept her voice light and friendly while she attacked Claire’s feet with a pumice stone.
“I guess you could call it that,” I agreed. “We thought this would be a good way to pamper ourselves and get ready for an art opening we’re attending tonight.”
“That sounds like fun,” Marsha observed. “Anyone we may have heard of?”
“It’s my friend’s show, Deacon Hall,” I replied. “He and I work together at the Museum of Fine Art. He’s a fantastic painter and people are finally starting to notice.”
Marsha nodded. “I think I’ve read about him. He does a lot of abstracts, right?”
“Right.”
Mary returned with three plastic champagne flutes. She passed them out and then started on Kennedy’s feet. We sipped our drinks and made small talk with the women until our feet were thoroughly scrubbed, buffed, and polished. Then, the technicians smothered us in mineral mud from our toes to our knees and covered it in tightly wrapped hot towels.
“This will set for twenty minutes,” Mary explained. She set a digital timer and the women rose to their feet.
“We’ll give you some privacy. Would any of you like another drink?” Sharon offered.
We shook our heads and the women returned to their manicure stations. Marsha immediately pulled out her phone, while Mary thumbed through a magazine and Sharon concentrated on a Sudoku puzzle book.
“I can’t wait to meet your new boyfriend,” Kennedy teased, swallowing the last of her mimosa.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I insisted with a roll of my eyes. My calves felt loose and relaxed, but my shoulders tensed at Kennedy’s words.
When I returned to California, I made the mistake of letting my mother set me up on a blind date with the son of a woman she met at her Ladies Auxiliary. Eric was kind and soft spoken, and I felt incredibly comfortable around him. And that was the problem: I felt absolutely no spark with him.
Eric didn’t seem to share that feeling. He went out of his way to make me happy, which both endeared him to me and made me feel incredibly guilty. Eric was stable, dependable, and thoughtful, everything a woman’s supposed to want. And I wanted to want him. I’d spent the better part of the last month trying to decide if I was willing to sacrifice solid, dependable companionship for the hope of one day feeling butterflies again. I still hadn’t reached a conclusion.
“You can deny he’s your boyfriend all you want. But the copious amount of time you spend with him begs to differ,” Claire teased. She leaned forward and looked past me to Kennedy.
“You’re going to love Eric. He’s so quiet and unassuming, the perfect gentleman.”
“Really?” Kennedy purred, drawing out the word. She turned to me with a raised eyebrow and a smirk of disbelief. “That doesn’t sound like your type at all.”
I rolled my
eyes again and stared down at my towel wrapped legs. “Like Einstein said, ‘the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result.’ My type hasn’t exactly worked out so well for me up to this point. I thought I’d expand my horizons. And who are you to talk? You’re a bleeding heart liberal who married into one of the country’s oldest, most conservative dynasties,” I teased, turning the conversation away from Eric.
Kennedy broke out in uncontrollable laughter and reached for my hand. She took a few deep breaths and smiled back at me. “God, I’ve missed your smart ass.”
“I’ve missed you too,” I told her with a wink. “I’m glad you could come out for the weekend. I hope you can convince Jackson to start a project here. I know the move would be temporary, but it would be nice to have you around.”
“Can’t Jackson work from just about anywhere?” Claire chimed in. We turned to her and her cheeks turned pink.
“I mean… I’ve read the profiles on your family,” she confessed to Kennedy. “From what the magazines say, Jack hasn’t set foot in a real office in nearly a decade. He seems to be running the company just fine. Couldn’t Jackson do the same?”
“Yes, he could,” Kennedy agreed. She flipped her strawberry blonde hair over one shoulder and straightened her back with determination. “He just doesn’t know it yet. And don’t be embarrassed about studying up on the family. I did the same thing before my first tutoring session with Jackson.”
An image of Kennedy huddled around her laptop in our dorm room flashed into my head. She and I had attended Harvard with the help of financial aid packages. Kennedy tutored other students to help pay her tuition. Jackson, on the other hand, was a legacy student whose admission to the college was guaranteed at birth. Several buildings on campus boasted his family name and he probably could have covered the tuition of everyone in our graduating class with the dividends of his stock portfolio. Theirs was definitely a case of opposites attract.