“It has to be,” her father said. “I refuse to have our family turned into laughingstocks.”
Cecelia sighed in resignation and got up from her seat. “I’ll take care of it, Daddy.”
* * *
Deacon Chase turned his restored 1965 Corvette Stingray down the main street of Royal, Texas. It’d been thirteen years since he’d looked at this town in his rearview mirror and swore he’d never set foot in this narrow-minded, Texas dust trap again. The whole flight over from France, he questioned why he was coming back. Yes, it was good business, and working with his old friend from high school, Shane Delgado, had always been a pleasant experience. But when Shane mentioned that he wanted to build a resort in their hometown of Royal, he should have passed.
Then again, when else would he get the chance to show the town and the people who rejected him that he was better than them? Sure, back then he’d just been a poor kid with few prospects. He was the son of a grocery store clerk and the local car mechanic. He’d gotten to go to private school with all the rich kids only because his parents had been adamant that Deacon make something of himself, and they’d put every dime they had toward his schooling. Even then he had worked in the cafeteria to bridge the gap in tuition. Nobody else had expected much out of him, and those were the people who even acknowledged he existed. As far as most the residents of Royal were concerned, Deacon had never fit in, never would fit in and needed to accept his station in life.
No one had expected him to take his hobby of restoring cars and parlay the skills and money into restoring houses. They certainly hadn’t expected him to take the profit from those houses and put it into renovating hotels. Now the kid who worked in the cafeteria was a billionaire and the owner of the most glamorous resort in Cannes, France, the Hotel de Rêve, among others.
The only person in Royal who had ever believed in him was Cecelia. Back in high school, she’d pushed him to be the best person he could be. Considering that she’d held herself to such high standards, he’d been flattered that she saw so much potential in him when most of the people in high school either ignored him or taunted him. Cecelia had said he was a diamond in the rough. Her diamond in the rough.
It’d certainly blown the minds of all the boys at school that Cecelia had chosen Deacon instead of one of them. What could he offer her after all? A free carton of milk with her lunch? It turned out that he’d had plenty to offer her. He could still remember how many hours they’d spent lying in the back of his pickup truck talking. Kissing. Dreaming aloud about their future together. Deacon and Cecelia had had big plans for their lives after graduation.
Step one had been to get the hell out of Royal, Texas. Step two had been to live happily-ever-after.
As Deacon came to a stop at the traffic light at the intersection of Main Street and First Avenue, he shook his head in disgust. He had been a fool to think any of that would ever happen. He might have fancy hotels and expensive suits, sports cars and a forty-foot yacht docked in the French Riviera, but Deacon knew, and everybody else knew, that Cecelia was too good for him.
It hadn’t taken long for Cecelia to figure that out, too.
The light turned green, and Deacon continued down the road to where his father’s old garage used to be. When he’d made his first million, Deacon had moved his parents out of Royal and into a nice subdivision in central Florida. There, they could enjoy their early retirement without the meddling of the snooty residents of Royal. His father had sold the shop, and now a new shopping center was sitting where it used to be. A lot had changed in the last thirteen years.
Deacon couldn’t help but wonder how much Cecelia had changed. He tried not to cyberstalk her, but from time to time he couldn’t help looking over the Houston society pages to see what she was up to. The grainy black-and-white pictures hardly did her beauty justice, he was certain. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been a young woman, barely eighteen. Even then, Deacon had been certain that she was the most beautiful woman he would ever see in person. He would bet that time had been kind to his Cecelia.
Not that it mattered. The most recent article he’d stumbled across in the paper had included the announcement of her engagement to Chip Ashford. He remembered Chip from high school. He was a rich, entitled, first-class douche bag. Deacon was fairly certain that that hadn’t changed, but if Cecelia was willing to marry him, she certainly wasn’t the girl that he remembered. Back then, she’d hardly given Chip the time of day.
Mr. and Mrs. Morgan must be so proud of her now. She’d finally made a respectable choice in a man.
Turning off the main drag, Deacon headed down the narrow country road out of Royal that led to his latest real estate acquisition. The rustic yet luxurious lodge that was to serve as his home base in the area stood on three acres of wooded land several miles outside town. He’d bought the property sight unseen when he decided to take on The Bellamy project with Shane. He couldn’t be happier with the place. It was very much his style, although it was a far cry from the elegant European architecture and design that he’d become accustomed to.
He hadn’t really needed to buy the home. Deacon had no real intention of staying in Royal any longer than he had to. But the businessman in him had a hard time passing up a good deal, and it seemed a shame to throw money away on renting a place while they built the hotel. He had no regrets. It was his happy retreat, away from the society jungles of Royal.
When he pulled up in front of the lodge, he was surprised to find Shane Delgado’s truck parked out front. Deacon parked the Corvette in his garage, then stepped out front to meet his friend and business partner.
Deacon hadn’t had many friends back in school. Basically none. But his side business of buying and restoring cars had drawn Shane’s attention. Shane had actually bought Deacon’s very first restoration, a 1975 cherry-red Ford pickup truck with white leather seats. Deacon had been damn proud of that truck, especially when Shane had handed over the cash for it without questioning his asking price. They’d bonded then over a mutual love of cars and had continued to keep in touch over the years. When they both ended up in the real estate development business, it was natural for them to consider working together on a few projects.
“What’s wrong now?” Deacon asked as he joined Shane at the bottom of his front steps.
While the construction of The Bellamy had gone relatively smoothly, Deacon was the silent partner. Shane bothered him with details only when something had gone awry. He joked with Shane once that he was getting to the point that he dreaded the sight of his friend’s face.
“For once,” Shane said with a smile, “I’m just here to hang out and have a drink with my friend. Everything at the hotel is going splendidly. Tomorrow, Cecelia Morgan will be presenting her designs to the board, based on your recommendation. Assuming we like what Cecelia did, and I hope I’m not going too far out on a limb here, we’ll be moving forward and getting that much closer to opening the hotel.”
Deacon slapped his friend on the back of the shoulder. “I wouldn’t have brought her on board if I didn’t think she was the best designer for the job. Come on in,” he said as they started up the massive stone stairs to the front door. “Have you eaten?” he asked as they made their way into his office for a drink.
Shane nodded. “I have. Brandee is constantly feeding me. By the end of the year, I’m going to weigh three hundred pounds.”
“You’re a lucky man,” Deacon said as he poured them both a couple of fingers of whiskey over ice. Shane had recently gotten involved with Brandee Lawless, the owner of the nearby Hope Springs Ranch. She was a tiny blonde spitfire, and one hell of a cook. “I’d be happy to have Brandee feeding me every night.”
“I bet you would,” Shane said. “But you need to just stick with your cultured European women.”
Deacon chuckled at his friend’s remark. He had certainly taken advantage of the local delica
cies while he was in Europe. Even though it’d been years since he and Cecelia had broken up, it had soothed his injured pride to have a line of beautiful and exotic women waiting for their chance to be with him. He would never admit to anyone, especially Shane, that not a one of them held a candle to Cecelia in his mind.
Deacon and Shane sat there together, sipping their drinks and enjoying each other’s company. They didn’t get a lot of opportunities to just hang out anymore. Deacon’s office, however, just begged for gentlemen to spend time in comfortable chairs and shoot the shit. The walls were lined with shelves containing leather-bound books that, frankly, came with the house and Deacon would never read. They did create a nice atmosphere, though, along with the oil paintings of landscapes and cattle that hung there. It was all very masculine Texas style.
“Can I ask you something?” Shane asked.
“Sure. What?”
“You do know that Cecelia’s business specializes in children’s furniture, right?”
Deacon tensed in his chair. Perhaps his office made Shane too comfortable, since he felt like prying into Deacon’s motivations for wanting Cecelia for the job. “Yeah, I know. I also know that she’s managed to turn her small company into a furniture and accessories juggernaut since she started it. She’s always had a good eye for design.”
“She does, I won’t argue that. But hiring her to decorate The Bellamy is a huge risk. She and Brandee aren’t exactly fans of each other. And what if she and her friends are actually behind the cyberattacks? That’s not the kind of publicity we’d want for our hotel. I don’t have to remind you how much we stand to lose if our gamble doesn’t pay off.”
“That’s why we just asked her to submit a proposal along with the two other design firms. We haven’t hired anybody yet. If she’s out of her depth in this, or acts suspicious in any way, we thank her for her time and send her on her way. It’s not ideal, but not the end of the world, either.”
Shane narrowed his gaze at him. He obviously suspected that Deacon had ulterior motives in wanting Cecelia involved in the project. Deacon understood. He wasn’t entirely sure that he didn’t.
“I’m not sold on either of the other firm’s designs. She’s last to present, so if she flops tomorrow, it’s going to set the project back weeks while we find yet another designer and they start from scratch. We have hotel bookings starting day one. Every delay costs us money.”
Deacon just nodded. He was well aware that he was taking a risk. But for some reason, he had to do it. Perhaps he was a glutton for punishment. Perhaps he was looking for any excuse to see her again. He wasn’t sure. The only thing he was sure of was that everything would turn out fine. “Relax, Shane. The project will finish on time and on budget with the amazing decor you’re hoping for.”
“And how do you know that?” Shane asked, sounding unconvinced.
“Because,” Deacon said confidently, “Cecelia hasn’t failed at anything in her entire life. She’s not going to start now.”
Two
“Welcome, Miss Morgan. Please have a seat.”
Cecelia took two steps into the boardroom and stopped short as she recognized the man’s voice. She looked up and found herself staring into the green-and-gold eyes of her past. She couldn’t take a single step farther. Her heart stuttered as her mind raced to make sense of what she was seeing. It wasn’t possible that Deacon Chase, her first love, was sitting at the head of the boardroom table beside Shane Delgado.
Deacon had disappeared from Royal almost immediately after they graduated from high school. No one in town had seen or heard a word from him since then. She remembered being told that his parents had moved to Florida, and she had occasionally wondered what he had made of himself, but she hadn’t had the heart to look him up and find out. She knew that it was best to keep Deacon a part of her past, and yet here he was, a critical element to the success of her future.
Cecelia realized she was standing awkwardly at the entrance to the conference room with the entire board of directors staring at her. She snapped out of it, pasting a wide smile on her face and walking to the front of the room where an empty seat was waiting for her. Beside him.
“Thank you, everyone, for having me here today. I’m very pleased to have the opportunity to present my designs for The Bellamy Hotel to the board. I’m really in love with what I have put together for you all today, and I hope it meets your expectations.”
Deacon’s cold gaze followed her around the room to where she had taken her seat, but she tried not to let it get to her. The man had every reason to hate her, so she shouldn’t expect anything less.
She knew that Shane had a silent partner in The Bellamy project, but she’d never dreamed that it would be Deacon. She had a hard time believing it was even Deacon sitting there, considering how much he’d changed since she saw him last.
His lanky teenaged body had grown into itself, with broad shoulders and muscular arms that strained against the fabric of his expensively tailored navy suit. His jaw was more square and hardened now, as though he was trying to hold in the venomous words he had for her. The lines etched around his eyes and into his furrowed brow made it look like he didn’t smile much anymore.
That made Cecelia sad. The Deacon she remembered had been full of life, despite the miserable hand that he had been dealt as a child. Back in high school, he’d had so much potential in him, Cecelia just couldn’t wait to see what he was going to do with his future.
Now she knew. It appeared as though Deacon had done extremely well for himself. He had gone from the kid working in the cafeteria to the man who held her future in his hands.
Opening her portfolio, she sorted through her papers and prepared to give the presentation she had practiced repeatedly since Shane had called and offered her a chance to bid on the job. She pulled out several watercolor renderings of the designs, placing them on the easel behind her. Then, taking a deep breath and looking at everyone but Deacon, Cecelia began her presentation.
It was easy for her to get lost in the details of her plan for the hotel. Discussing fabric choices, wooden furnishing pieces, style and design was what she knew best. She had a very distinct point of view that she wanted to express for The Bellamy to separate it from all the other high-class resorts in the Houston area.
Judging by the smiles and nods of the people sitting around the conference room table, she had hit it out of the park. The only person who looked less than impressed, of course, was Deacon. His eyes still focused on her like lasers, but his expression was unreadable.
“Does anyone have any questions?” She looked around the room, ready to field any of the board’s concerns. No one spoke up.
Shane finally stood up and walked around the table to shake Cecelia’s hand. “Thank you so much, Cecelia,” he said with an oddly relieved smile on his face. “I admit I was reluctant to believe you were the right designer for the job, but I must say I’m very impressed. You’ve done a great job. You’re the last to present your designs, so we will have to discuss your proposal, and then we will get back to you about contracts. If we decide to go with Luna Fine Furnishings, how long do you think it will be before you can start work on the hotel?”
Her heart was pounding, but whether it was from Shane’s question or Deacon being mere inches away, she couldn’t say. “I have already started putting the major furniture pieces into production at my manufacturing facility,” Cecelia said. Several of the designs were tweaks of her existing furniture, and it was easy to get them started. “I also put in an order for the fabric, and it should arrive tomorrow. I took the risk, hoping that you would accept my proposal. If you don’t like what I’ve done, I’m going to have to find a new home for about two hundred and fifty dressers.”
The people around the table chuckled. Shane just smiled. “A risk-taker. I like it. Well, hopefully we will find a good home for all those dressers. W
e hope to open the resort by the end of the month. Do you think you can make that happen?”
By the end of the month? Cecelia’s stomach started to ache with dread. Even with construction complete, that was an extremely tight schedule. Two hundred and fifty suites in a month! Although she was expecting the fabric for the curtains and upholstered chairs, it would still take time to make the pieces. She wasn’t about to say no, however. She could sleep when April was over. “Absolutely. We may have to have our craftsmen working around the clock to get all the pieces together and the wallpaper on the walls, but I think we can make it happen.”
Cecelia tried to keep her focus on Shane, but Deacon’s appraising gaze kept drawing her attention away. He still wasn’t smiling like everyone else. But he wasn’t glaring at her angrily anymore, either. Now he was just watching. Thinking, processing. She had no idea what was going on inside Deacon’s brain because he hadn’t spoken since he welcomed her into the room. Part of her wished she knew. Part of her didn’t.
“That all sounds great. If you will give us just a few minutes, we’re going to meet and will be right with you. Would you mind waiting in the lobby?”
“Not at all.” Cecelia gathered her things up into her portfolio and, with a smile, stepped out of the room. The moment she shut the door behind her she felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Somehow, having that wall between her and Deacon seemed to make a difference. Thankfully, his laser-like vision couldn’t reach her through the drywall and the expensive wallpaper of Shane’s offices.
No question, he had rattled her. He’d probably intended to. After everything she’d done to Deacon, she deserved it. For the first time, she started to doubt that she would land this job. Yes, Shane had personally approached her about it, but perhaps Deacon had agreed to it just so he could have the opportunity to reject her the way she’d rejected him all those years ago.
She poured herself a glass of water at the nearby beverage station and took a seat, waiting anxiously for their decision. She was surprised they were moving so quickly, but if they needed the hotel done by the end of the month, there really wasn’t a choice. She was the last designer to present her ideas, so the time to decide was here.
Expecting the Billionaire's Baby Page 2