The Billionaire's Carnival Baby (A BWWM Romance)
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A lingering doubt plagued her: what if he came back looking for her? What if he wanted her again?
She laughed at herself. Such vanity. If he’d wanted her again, he wouldn't have snuck off in the early hours. If the man felt anything for her beyond the insane amount of lust he’d shown her, he would've stayed, at least to see her face and perhaps make love to her again. Most likely he was married and went home to his family. She had to be smart and take the incredible pleasure she’d experienced for what it was and nothing more.
And so, after lunch, she checked out of her room and walked slowly back through the streets of Ipanema. She walked away from her fantasy, the fantasy she’d really lived, and back to the world of work and daily chores.
How many people ever have a chance to live out such a fantasy? That was a victory, yet one that was bittersweet, one that begged the question: why couldn't she be with that incredible man, whoever he was, forever. Was that too much to ask?
Chapter Three
Myeisha noted that whatever had happened to Kenneth that night in Ipanema changed the way he acted toward her. They spent three more days in Rio and he became strictly business, entirely focused on work. When he spoke to her it was in monosyllables and always about business. At times she caught him looking at her with that strange puzzlement in his eyes, and a look suggesting he was waiting for her to do or say something.
On the last day in port, he brought a couple of young women on board. They partied into the night, and they stayed on board when the yacht set sail for Mayreau, where Kenneth had an interest in a small tourist restaurant. The two women, a blond and a redhead, were Brazilians in their twenties who seemed to own little clothing other than thongs, and found being on a luxury yacht worth a giggle. They spent most of the days sunbathing nude on the top deck or with Kenneth in the hot tub.
Myeisha ignored them. She didn't care about the women—it wasn't the first time he’d brought women on board, and likely wouldn't be the last. She couldn't be jealous because she certainly didn't love Kenneth, but she found herself disappointed in him.
She did think of herself as his friend, and she wondered about his obvious confusion regarding the night following his attempted seduction of her in the street. And she worried because he continued to give her that odd look, even after the women left the ship in Bequia. It seemed he was trying more than ever to provoke a response from her, as if he was fucking these attractive young women for no reason other than to see how she would react. It seemed insane.
The truth was that she liked Kenneth, and was even willing to admit that he held a certain attraction for her. He was wealthy, handsome, and basically a kind man with a good sense of humor. She also knew he hadn’t always held such trivial and temporary relationships with women. He’d been married once. Then, five years earlier, his wife had been killed in a car accident. He was in Europe when the news came. The loss, the fact that he’d been off on a trip when it happened, almost destroyed him, too. Shattered, he sank into a deep funk.
Eventually he came out it with an amazing enthusiasm to revitalize his business. He’d also shifted into permanent party mode. That was the first time he’d made her aware that he saw her as a woman, and that he was sexually attracted to her. She wanted none of that and told him so. As much as she liked Ken, even if she hadn't been head over heels in love with Bruce Willoughby, the idea of an affair with her boss held no interest since it would only complicate her life. While she was mildly attracted to him and liked him as a person, he wasn't the kind of man she wanted to live her life with.
And she had Bruce.
When they arrived in Miami where they would board Kenneth’s jet for New York, she got a letter from him. Bruce was coming home. She didn't know what was going on, but he told her he’d be there, that he needed to see her, and that they’d have time together for once. The schedules of the Army and Kenneth Steele had made it difficult for them to spend much time with each other, but now her heart raced at the idea that she could be with him. Maybe he had leave, and she had several weeks before she and Kenneth were scheduled to fly to Japan for business meetings. If things went well with Bruce, if he was controlling his temper, she would ask Kenneth for some time off. For that matter, Kenneth could go to Japan by himself easily enough; she could hire an executive temp to do the things she would do for him. Kenneth owed her a lot of vacation days, and if there was a chance to spend them with Bruce, she’d insist on taking them.
Thinking of Bruce made her pulse race. She’d fallen for him the day they met at a party, quickly finding they had a lot in common. He was close to her age at twenty-five, and they both came from working class families. They had the same values that were slightly old fashioned. Even their parents got along well, enjoying each other’s company.
That was just icing on the cake, however, because she adored Bruce. His curly brown hair was closely cropped to meet regulations, and when she looked into his hazel eyes, she wanted to melt. She did melt. When she was in his arms, she never wanted for anything. When they could, when the future was less crazy, they would marry. One day he’d leave the Army, she’d quit her job, and they’d buy a house and raise a family. For now he would be home on leave. He’d be there with her, holding her and making sweet love to her, and making everything good. They’d talk about the future and figure out what he’d do when he left the service.
She sat on the private jet, sipping white wine across from a strikingly handsome billionaire who claimed to want her, and thinking of the joys of a far less glamorous life with Bruce. Life was an interesting place.
***
Audra wiped her hands on her apron to get the beer off of them. It seemed that no matter how careful you tried to be, when you carried trays with mugs of filled to the top, beer always slopped over onto the tray. Then it got on your hands and dried into a sticky mess.
Ugh.
On the other hand, waiting tables in a popular sports bar had turned out to be a good way to stay in shape. Most of the customers were cheerfully demanding, and she was on the run constantly. Jumping Jiminy’s was one of the most popular places in town for affluent young people, so the tips were good and there were probably no more than the average number of errant hands from male patrons to deal with. Most of that was just overly friendly teasing, and the guys usually took her no and stern look for an answer. Yes, being there was nice. If she’d had the time and energy for a social life, most weekends she’d get at least one offer of a date from an attractive guy. She didn't have either the time or energy to take them up on it, but it was still flattering.
The hours were good, too. Working evenings let her take advantage of the morning language lab; she was focused on learning several languages. It was part of a master plan—the cruise line had some openings further up the food chain, and with a few business classes and fluency in a couple of languages, she could wrangle a job that didn't keep her stuck below decks. As a person who liked dealing with customers, she saw herself as an event coordinator or something like that. Hence, she was determined to get a handle on French, German, and Spanish. It was slow going, but she loved learning and the idea of moving toward her goal. Ideally she’d be able to work at a high paying job while traveling to various countries.
It was going well, except that she seemed to have lost all her energy. Wiped out after work, she was finding it hard to study and then get off to class in the morning. And then, this morning, she’d suddenly been sick. Just some kind of nausea, it felt like. She hoped she wasn’t coming down with a bug since she couldn't afford to miss school or work. The money she’d saved by working nonstop for three years had piled up, but then starting school, even at a community college, meant lots of expenses. She’d had to get an apartment, with all the fees and deposits that involved, and buy a used car. Making things harder, she’d found that books were a lot more expensive than she expected… and she was required to have a computer.
What had once seemed like a comfortable pile of money melted away fast. Fortunately
she’d found this job. She been telling her friend Gale about her sticker shock, that things turned out to be so much more expensive than she’d expected.
“So help me out here,” she’d pleaded. Gale worked at the bar and put in a recommendation for her with the manager. Gale was popular and in line for the next management job, so with her as a backer, Audra got the opening.
Even back then they’d had a lot of applicants, and now that the semester had started there were loads of poor students in town looking for exactly this kind of part-time work. This, of course, meant that getting sick wasn't an option. Of course, neither was tossing her cookies on someone’s plate. That would probably be viewed worse than taking a day off to go to the doctor—a lot worse, and doctors cost money she didn’t have.
As she got ready to go on shift, Gale gave her a worried look. “You look pale,” she pointed out.
Of course that was a reasonable result of heaving your breakfast. “Am I?” Audra asked. “I’m not feeling so chipper today.”
“What did the doctor say?”
Audra shrugged. “It just started. Besides, who has the time and money to go to a doctor?”
“Use your school benefits,” Gale said.
“What benefits? I’m still sorting out how things work.”
“The school has a clinic. Whisk your butt in there and they’ll look you over for free. If it’s no big deal, they can even write you a prescription.”
She remembered that now. She’d been to the clinic for a physical before starting classes, but in the chaos of learning everything else about the campus and her schedule, she’d completely forgotten it. It was actually a fairly well-equipped clinic and there was even a doctor on call during the day. “Why didn't I think of that?”
Gale laughed. “Because you've spent the last three years living on a cruise ship and forgotten what the civilized world has to offer.”
There was some truth in that. “Fine. Tomorrow I'll pop in and see the vet. It’s probably a flu bug.”
“I watch all the doctor programs,” Gale said, “and in my opinion you have a brain tumor. All the nice people get them on television.”
“Am I nice?”
“You like people to think you are.”
“So tomorrow I go into the school dispensary and ask for a brain scan?”
“I'll write you a prescription on an order form,” Gale joked. “They’ll be glad to do it.”
“One brain scan, no cheese, no mayo.”
“To go, or to eat there?” Gale smirked.
“To go, but not in packaged in Styrofoam, please.”
***
It had been a mistake to mention to Bruce that Kenneth had hit on her, that they’d gone to Carnival together in costume. It all came out in the rush of words that exploded out of Myeisha, wanting to share every minute of every day that they’d been apart. Even as she said it, she wished she hadn't been so eager to tell him everything.
“He kissed you?”
“Yes, but I immediately told him off and went back to the ship alone.”
“He kissed you?” Bruce repeated.
“Yes. But just that once.”
“Just? Your boss kissed you.”
In some ways Bruce was a bit too conservative and prudish. It both amused her and appealed to her own set of similar values. She wanted a traditional marriage and they’d both decided the ideal situation was for her to get pregnant and become a stay-at-home mom. Her friends teased her about that, but it was what her and Bruce both wanted. Her motivation for working this high-paying job until the very last minute was so they could afford a house large enough to raise a family in. It was Bruce’s dream as well as her own. That attitude, that he’d be the breadwinner, the protector, made her feel good. When it got him jealous as he was now, though, she didn't like it.
“I’d like to punch that bastard in his green eyes,” he growled.
“You’ll do no such thing, Bruce. I took care of it. I left that night, and he’s kept his distance since then.”
“That doesn't mean he will…”
It was a good thing she hadn’t told him about the way Kenneth had teased her leading up to that. Yes, the man had been trying to coax her into sleeping with him, and the kiss had been his attempt to press the issue, but it wasn't like he’d molested her. Things were better now, she was actually enjoying working with him, although the perplexed and injured looks he gave her when he thought she wasn't looking intrigued her. Yes, it was apparent that something had happened after she left him that night. She’d thought about asking him about it, trying to find the reason for his strange new attitude towards her, but that could be opening a bag of worms better left unopened.
“He’s been behaving. With me, anyway,” Myeisha assured Bruce. “He got carried away with the festival atmosphere, and there was nothing more to it than that. I’m sorry I said anything at all. It isn't like anything happened. Not with me, at least. After that, he turned his attention to other women.”
“You better not keep things like that from me.”
He was angry now, and that temper of his had him right on the edge of snapping completely. She’d learned that a time like this wasn’t a good moment to discuss things with him. When his temper flared, it took control and left him at odds with reason.
“We can talk about it later,” she waved dismissively.
“No need. We don’t need to talk about him,” he said, his mood changing abruptly. His eyes softened and suddenly he was the attentive, loving man she’d fallen for. “I want to talk about us.”
“What’s there to say that’s new? I love you.”
“I’m getting out of the Army,” he announced with a grin.
“What? When?” she asked in shock. She certainly hadn’t anticipated this news so soon.
He smiled. “Now.” He fished a ring out of his pants pocket and held it out to her. “I want you to marry me.”
She tensed. “But Bruce… our plans.”
“The plan was to get married and raise a family. The rest is details.”
“But we wanted to save money and get a house. You don’t have a job, do you?”
He shook his head. “No, but I couldn't stay in any longer.”
“What happened? You resigned?”
He sank into the chair beside her. “It’s more complicated that that.”
Complicated wasn't good, and she knew it. She braced herself for bad news.
“Tell me what happened,” she prodded gently.
“Do you remember my friend Terry?”
“I've never met him, but I remember you talking about him. You two got close.”
“We met while we were training for Special Forces. They teamed us up and we’ve been through more missions than I can count. We hit it off, too. We helped each other, compensated for each other’s weaknesses.” He paused and grinned, his eyes wandering as he silently recalled his time with the man. “We were a hell of a team,” he finally continued. “The Army knew it, too. They were keeping us together and we were scheduled for advanced training courses.”
“The ones that you thought would make you valuable doing specialized security work?”
“Right. We had all the training to do routine stuff, but we dreamed of starting our own company. Then Terry got wounded.”
“Oh, Bruce, I’m so sorry…”
“He survived, and he’s okay, but they tossed him out on a medical discharge. That was a bummer, but shit happens and at least he’s okay, like I said. But that broke up the team, and the truth is, Terry helped me manage my temper. I know I’m hot-headed and I don’t mean to explode, but I usually don’t see the anger coming. Terry would spot it and he knew how to stop me before I did anything stupid, even if it meant knocking me on my ass. He’s a martial arts expert and I learned that firsthand. Without him around… well, the truth is that I fucked up. I kicked the shit out of an officer,” he explained, his head hanging low. “If it hadn't been that he was roundly hated for being a first-class assho
le, I would have been charged with assault and sent to prison. But because I’m some goddamn war hero, they did an evaluation and said I was sufferingfrom PTSD. Quietly tossed me out with a medical discharge. They gave me a small disability income and arranged for me to go to anger-management classes, but they’re kind of a joke. Nothing as helpful as Terry.”
“So what do we do?”
“That depends,” he grinned, his mood lightening again. “You haven’t answered my question yet. Will you marry me?”
“Of course I will.”
“I'll need to find some kind of work. Security work is still my best bet, unless there are openings for a hit man that don’t involve a lot of travel.”
“Hit men don’t have steady employment, do they?”
“It is probably a bit erratic,” he chuckled.
“How about this? Kenneth’s company subcontracts its security out to an outfit called ‘Offshore Services.’ I bet you can get a job there if I call them up and arrange the interview,” Myeisha offered.
“So you’d pull a few strings for me?”
“Being the boss’s right hand should provide a few perks,” she smiled devilishly. “And I’d pull every string I could find for you, Bruce. For us.”
“And then we can get married?”
“You get the job, or some job, and settle into it. Once you know you like the work and they like you, then we can set the date and put our mothers to work making all the outrageous arrangements. In the meantime, we’ll save every penny from both jobs.”
“I'll call Terry and tell him to start shopping for a decent best-man tuxedo,” he beamed. “It sounds like we have our new modified plan.”