Billionaire's Best Woman - A Standalone Novel (A Billionaire Wedding Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #5)

by Claire Adams

  I planned on taking Parker and Tony shopping later that week to start picking out little decorations from the local shops around town. I wasn’t going to rush this. I had the idea that regulars or tourists who came back year after year would comment on something that they hadn’t seen or noticed before. It would keep the diner updated and ever-changing, and would keep patrons coming back day after day and year after year. I felt the same way about the house in Sanibel, and I hoped that I could make others feel the same way too.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” I said to Parker. “Get up soon. We need to make a special trip before going to the diner.”

  After showering and making a quick breakfast for us, we were out the door by seven. Parker drove to Harriet’s house and she was sitting on her porch swing, waiting for us.

  She was an early riser like we were. Having the diner back was only a piece of the puzzle that made me incredibly giddy with excitement. Getting Harriet back into her routine after Kenneth died had been a priority for me. I knew she would always cherish him, but I wanted her to continue on with her life as much as she could in the circumstances. I even offered to go to Bingo with her every week just so that she could do things that made her happy again, even if it was without Kenneth.

  “Oh, my,” Harriet said when I helped her from the car. She looked at the diner and her eyes filled with happy tears. “Parker, you did an amazing job.”

  “You haven’t seen the inside yet,” he said and helped her up the front steps.

  I opened the door and offered my arm to her. She took it, and we entered the space.

  The shock of seeing the diner in front of me instead of in my dreams still moved through me, even days later.

  “I wanted to show you something,” I said, then glanced back at Parker.

  He winked at me and I led Harriet to her regular table that she’d shared with Kenneth. I came in the night before and set up the surprise for her.

  It took her a minute to realize what she was looking at. But when she did, her hands covered her gasp.

  “Sienna,” she said accusingly. “What have you done?”

  I glanced at the framed picture on the wall hanging next to their booth. It was their wedding photo that was published in the newspaper after their nuptials.

  “Do you like it?” I asked. “We wanted to dedicate this space to you and Kenneth.”

  “Where ever did you find that photo?” she asked.

  Parker raised his hand. “I contacted the newspaper that printed it. They scanned the copy and sent it over to us.”

  Harriet took each of our hands in hers. “You two are simply darling. I’m better for knowing you.”

  “We could say the same thing for you,” I said.

  Harriet sat down at the booth and scooted over, getting a better look at the photo. “You know,” she said, “I was a size two then. My, how times change you.”

  “You look just as good now as you did then,” Parker said, sliding into the other side of the booth.

  She let out a hoot of laughter. “You’re too kind, Parker.”

  I left the two of them to talk and went into the kitchen. There, I was able to take a deep breath. I was finally home again. I smoothed my hands over the clean surfaces, burning the image and feel into my brain. I knew after a few months of cooking, these surfaces would be well-worn.

  A knock on the back door broke me from my reverie. I unlocked it and let Tony inside.

  “I’m going to need a key,” he said, lugging in several bags of food.

  “I’ll get some made this afternoon,” I said and made a mental note on top of the other million things I had to do.

  Opening the diner again would be a challenge, but I was up for it. I’d forgotten all the little things that were involved in the process, but I was quickly remembering and falling into step.

  We started separating the food items and putting them away before they went bad in the heat.

  The refrigerator was sub-zero with clear glass doors. That would prove helpful in keeping the food cold while taking inventory. I couldn’t believe Parker thought of everything. He did admit to speaking with top chefs all around the country during the planning process. Even though my diner would serve a third of the clientele those places did, it was a generous gift that made the diner much more upgraded than it had been.

  I grabbed a few things to prep while Tony organized the food. Everything went back into its place and eventually—aside from everything being brand new—we were back in our groove.

  When we were prepared and ready to go, I squeezed Tony’s arm. “Are you ready?”

  “The better question is, are you?”

  I took a breath. “Yes, I think I am.”

  I grabbed my brand new ordering pad and shoved it in my back pocket as we headed out to the dining room. I’d told the other customers to come in around ten so we’d have time to prepare. Plus, I wanted to take one special order and focus all of my attention on it.

  “All right,” I said, interrupting Harriet and Parker.

  Parker sat back in his seat and Harriet looked up at me expectantly.

  “You want some coffee?” I asked.

  They both nodded.

  The four of us sat in the booth, sipping coffee for about forty-five minutes, chatting about the old diner.

  “I remember when Kenneth and I first stepped foot in this place,” Harriet said, regaling us with more amazing memories of her equally amazing husband.

  Heat flickered behind my eyes. I hated that I’d only known Kenneth for a short time. Harriet had even more time with him, yet remained positive and loved to talk about him. I knew I would feel the same way about Parker when we were older. I needed to make a priority of remembering everything between us so I’d be able to look back and smile whenever I was feeling down.

  “It actually used to be a different place before you bought it, Sienna,” she said at the end of her story.

  I glanced up at the ceiling, trying to remember. I’d bought it a few years after the restaurant closed down. “I think it was called Bernie’s.”

  Harriet snapped her fingers. “That’s right! The food was terrible, but we didn’t know that until you came in and gave us something delicious.”

  I laughed.

  Parker took my hand and squeezed. “You really are a good chef.”

  “A good cook,” I corrected. I didn’t think I deserved the honor of being called a chef.

  “Sienna,” Tony said. “Remember when I applied to work here?”

  “Oh yeah,” I said, remembering fondly.

  “I thought I was passing through here when I saw the diner and the sign,” Tony explained. “When I met Sienna, I had no idea what I was getting myself into.”

  “No, you didn’t,” I said, cracking up.

  “But this little brat grew on me,” he said.

  I kicked him under the table and he cried out in alarm then laughed. We all did.

  Happy tears sprung to my eyes, and I didn’t want anyone to see me cry. I slid out of the booth and took a second to collect myself. “People are going to start coming in here soon, so I think it’s time to do this.”

  “Do what, dear?” Harriet asked.

  I pulled the pad out of my pocket and poised my pen on the paper. “Harriet, you are our first customer ever in this diner. So I would like to ask you one question.”

  “Yes?” she said.

  I looked at Tony and smiled. “Would you like your usual?”

  The other customers came in all at once at ten o’ clock on the dot. Tony greeted some of his biker friends while I said hello to a family that came in every Sunday while they stayed at their beach house for several weeks during the year. Harriet’s meal had gone off without a hitch, so I had hope that the rest would be fine, too. Since the design of the kitchen was nearly the same as before, I found I fell back into the rhythm very quickly. As did Tony.

  Parker was the only one with a learning curve. But that would come with time. Being a se
rver wasn’t as easy as people thought it was. He took too long writing down the orders and making the customers repeat it several times.

  Anytime he looked a little down about it, I made sure to kiss him and tell him he was doing great. Even though I found myself cringing each time he took a plate from the pass-through. By the end of the day, there were only two broken plates and a shattered glass on his record. And since we didn’t have many customers that day, I’d say that was a win for him.

  I was making another pot of coffee for the last set of customers when Parker brushed up against me. I looked over at him. He wore a devilish grin.

  “What?” I asked.

  His hand moved over my butt and squeezed.

  I laughed and glanced over my shoulder to make sure the customers couldn’t see us.

  “Parker.”

  He shrugged. “You’re such a tease being all the way in the kitchen,” he said. “I missed touching you.”

  I bumped him with my hip. “I missed you touching me.”

  “Oh, God!” Tony groaned from the doorway. “Is this how it’s always going to be? You two all lovey-dovey and kissing? We’re never going to be able to get work done. And never mind the sanitary aspect of that.”

  I blew a raspberry at him. “I’m the boss, remember?”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Parker

  I noticed a distinct difference when I woke up Saturday morning. I moved my hand over the sheets, which were as cool as the rest of the room.

  I rolled over and squinted at the bathroom. The door was open, but the light was off.

  “Sienna?” I called.

  I waited before calling for her again.

  Still no answer.

  Where the hell was she? The diner was closed today since we were going shopping with Tony. I figured she was going to sleep in.

  I rolled out of bed and went out to the kitchen. It was the only other place I'd expect to find her. Yet when I went out there, I didn't see my sexy girlfriend anywhere.

  “Sienna?”

  I grabbed my phone, which I left charging in the entryway. I didn't need to be attached to it anymore, so I tended to forget it in different places. It was somewhat of a relief to be unplugged for a change.

  I checked to see if she had left a message, but then the front door opened.

  Sienna's eyes widened when she saw me standing there. “Oh, hey.”

  She held a package in her hands and a roll of wrapping paper under her arm.

  “Where were you?” I asked.

  “I had to pick something up for you.”

  “I wasn't expecting anything.”

  “It's a gift, Parker.”

  “For me?”

  She laughed. “Duh. Do you need a few more hours of sleep?”

  “I woke up without you. I was a little worried.”

  She stood on her toes and kissed me. “That's sweet. I left early thinking you would still be asleep.”

  “So, what's in the package?”

  She slapped my hand away from it. “Breakfast first.”

  “Well, that's not fair.”

  “Well, you were supposed to be asleep. Besides, I'm starving.”

  “Isn't it my turn to cook today?”

  “Yup. And it's an easy one.”

  Sienna took each meal as an opportunity to teach me how to cook. She usually saddled me with the easier tasks, but I had a feeling I'd have to do a little more legwork today to earn that package.

  She went into the other room, and when she came back, she was empty-handed. I felt like a little kid on Christmas morning, unable to stop thinking about the gift. I hoped she wouldn’t drag her heels all morning.

  Without mentioning the gift—I assumed that was her teasing the hell out of me—she put out all the ingredients for chocolate chip pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream. When she put out the whipped cream, I had dirty thoughts about Sienna wearing only the topping.

  “I know what you're thinking,” she said. “And maybe if you don't complain too much about shopping today, then there's a possibility of it coming true.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  She shrugged noncommittally. “All right, stop stalling and let's get measuring.”

  With the first batch, I ended up with more flour on my face than in the bowl. But after Sienna gave me pointers on how to measure properly, the batter started to look like what she normally made. And when it came time for the chocolate chips, I added way too many. It supposed it was better than too many eggs.

  After getting the hang of how much batter to add to the hot pan, we waited for one side of the flapjack to cook.

  “You didn't have to get me anything,” I said.

  “I know. I wanted to, though.”

  “Can you tell me what it is?” I asked.

  “Nope,” she said, grinning. “If you can surprise me with an entire building, I can surprise you with something small.”

  I stuck my lower lip out in a mock-pout.

  “You’re adorable when you do that,” she said. “But I’m not going to tell you. I still need to wrap it, anyway.”

  “How about I finish making the pancakes and you get my gift wrapped? Or we can skip that altogether, since I’m going to rip it open in two seconds.”

  She eyed the griddle as if my mere presence would set it on fire. “Okay, but let me know if you need me.”

  I kissed her. “I won’t. I’m getting better; even you said so yourself.”

  “Eh,” she said indecisively but left the room anyway.

  I stood by the door and listened to the rustling of paper. I wasn’t sure what I expected to hear, but I loved to guess what a present was before I opened it. It was a sick thing to do and something my parents never appreciated, but it was a habit that I wasn’t sure I could ever break.

  “I smell something burning,” Sienna said from the other room.

  I jolted and went back to the pancake. I shoved the spatula under it and flipped it. The cooked side was very cooked and nearly black. I decided that it wasn’t edible and I buried it in the trash can then quickly poured another one.

  “Can you give me a hint?” I called into the other room.

  “Parker, you seriously can’t wait?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Okay,” she said, laughing. “Your hint is us.”

  “Us?” What the hell did that mean?

  “Give me another hint.”

  “No!” Then she cursed.

  “You okay in there?”

  “Yeah,” she's said. “Just cut myself with the scissors.”

  “Don’t bleed on my gift.”

  “I’ll bleed wherever I damned well please.”

  I smiled and shook my head. If anyone who didn’t know us could overhear us, they would think we were always arguing. It was the opposite, in fact. I could be brutally honest with her and she could take it in stride. Not many women would do that, especially at our ages. I hoped we kept the same teenager maturity level throughout our lives together. It kept us young and always on our toes.

  I managed to get three pancakes done by the time she came back into the kitchen.

  She lifted each one from the plate and inspected them. “These look great.”

  “You’re not being nice?”

  “When am I ever nice to you?” she reached up and kissed me.

  She chopped the strawberries while I tried to crack her about the gift, but she was like a steel vault.

  She set up two place settings and had the coffee done in the time it took me to finish the pancakes. I needed to figure out how to multi-task eventually.

  “Do you want the gift before or after we eat?”

  “Before!” I said.

  She shook her head. “You’re too much, Parker. Are you sure you’re almost thirty? I’d say you were closer to thirteen.”

  “Get my gift, woman!” I said and pointed to the other room.

  She made a show of bowing before me. “As you wish.”

&nb
sp; She left the kitchen and came back a few seconds later. She handed me the gift wrapped in the same shiny silver paper that she’d come in with this morning. I thought it was a lot of fanfare, but I didn’t question her too much. She seemed excited to get me something. So I wanted to keep that smile on her face.

  I took the gift from her hands and placed it on the now-clean breakfast bar. It was thin but quite heavy.

  “It’s fragile,” she noted.

  I carefully pulled the seam apart and lifted the paper from the object. My heart was thrumming in my chest. Sienna wasn’t the type to give people gifts unless they were incredibly thoughtful and well-deserved. I didn’t remember the last time she gave me a physical present, maybe a birthday a couple of years ago. We normally celebrated by going out to a restaurant or bar. She’d said her presence was present enough. And I agreed. If I ever needed something, I was always able to get it myself.

  Removing the paper carefully, I revealed the back of a picture frame. Turning it over, I homed in on a photo that was taken of us at our senior prom. Then there was one of us on vacation with our families. Sienna and I were on a beach mid-jump as the waves crashed into the shore behind us. My gaze moved to one that was taken last year before I started dating Rachel. It was a candid photo of us at some bar. I vaguely remembered Tony taking the photo. Sienna and I were making gross faces at each other. I laughed at the memory. The other photos were from various points in our lives.

  “I wanted to show where we came from, so we can always look back on it in the future,” she said.

  “Sienna,” I said, my eyes darting around to each of the photos. My brain fell back into each memory of us. Some of them I’d forgotten until that point. “This is the best gift anyone has ever given me.”

  She shrugged. “I thought it was better than buying you something. A bottle of cologne wouldn’t have been on par with what you did for me.”

  “You’re right.”

  This must have taken Sienna some time to do. There had to be at least two dozen perfectly placed photos of us. She wasn’t the creative type, so I appreciated the effort she put into this even more.