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

by Claire Adams

  His eyes were a lot rounder than I’d remembered, but that was likely due to him being even more surprised to see me than I was to see him. There was no one else on the elevator, no one else waiting for the elevator. It was just him and me, standing across from each other like we were getting ready for a duel. He got on, pressed the button for the ground floor and waited for the doors to close before he said anything.

  “I thought we had an understanding.”

  My mouth was dry, but I managed the words, “I should have told you, I’m Luke Blair’s sister. I just got hired on as an intern on the fourteenth floor.”

  “You’re Luke’s sister?” he asked.

  “I haven’t told him, and I’m not going to. I should have said something as soon as you came over to me last night, but—”

  “Do me a favor?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Let’s not make what happened last night out to be more than it was.”

  We didn’t say anything more to each other. When the doors opened on the ground floor, he got out without a word, leaving me alone to blend into the walls of the elevator and out of any sort of meaningful existence.

  Chapter Two

  The Downside of Progress

  Three weeks in, I still hadn’t seen Mr. Carrick again. It also made sense to start thinking of him that way, as Mr. Carrick; after all, I did sort of work for him. What surprised me more than anything was how quickly I’d become just another part of the office. There was the coffee maker in the break room and there was the copier/fax machine down the hall to the left. Everything else was just staying close enough to my immediate superiors to grab whatever they needed whenever they needed it.

  Okay, so I didn’t have the most important job in the world, but I was really starting to enjoy it. I got a nice bit of adrenaline at the start and end of the day, knowing I’d probably run into Mr. Carrick again eventually, and then there was always something to keep me busy. The fact that Luke made more than enough for both of us and was willing to share, so long as I put in my eight-or-more hours, took any remaining sting from the job.

  The problem was unless someone needed something, I was invisible. On my way to the fourteenth floor, I felt like an escaped convict heading for the border, but once I was there and work started, starting a fire wouldn’t have gotten anyone’s attention.

  “Marcy!” Mr. Johnstone called from his office.

  I was standing in his doorway three-and-a-half seconds later. “Yes, Mr. Johnstone?”

  “Could you fax these up to your brother? I’d have you just run them up there, but I want to hang onto a copy for myself until I’ve had a chance to review everything.”

  “Right away, Mr. Johnstone.”

  I hadn’t said anything about my relation to the deputy CFO, but word like that seems to get around all on its own. Fortunately, the worst result to come of it was the occasional glare from the other interns. Everyone else seemed to think being polite to me meant I might put in a good word with Luke. If I had to guess, I’d say that’s why the other interns weren’t fans.

  On my way to the fax machine, I went to the break room to grab Ms. Grey’s coffee. It was almost 4:30, and she had a tendency to crash right about that time. With that taken care of, I faxed the documents Mr. Johnstone had handed me.

  I went back to Mr. Johnstone’s office with a skip in my step. After weeks of nagging, I’d finally convinced Luke to take me to Amaretto Black, one of the most famous restaurants in the city. At first, he said the cuisine would be over my head and that I’d be happier with a hot dog from a street vendor. When I told him he was just saying that because he didn’t have the clout to get a reservation at Amaretto Black, he picked up the phone and made the call. Of course, he was only the deputy CFO, so we still had to wait a couple of weeks.

  I dropped off the original documents at Mr. Johnstone’s office. He said, “You know, what strikes me most about you isn’t that you’re the sister of one of the bigwigs upstairs. What surprises me the most is that you’re the sister of one of the bigwigs upstairs, and you’re actually competent. Unless you have other things to finish up around the office, you can head home for the day. Thanks for all your hard work.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Johnstone. I appreciate that. Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” I never thought this would be what I was good at, but there it was. I wasn’t just good. I was great.

  “To be honest, you’ve already blown through everything I have for you, so really, I’m just trying to save a bit of the company’s dime.”

  I considered reminding him that I was an unpaid intern, but I was too excited to find out how the crème-de-la-crème enjoyed their evening meals. For Luke’s part, he was satisfied with frozen pizzas and cheap beer. The only difference I could tell between Luke as deputy CFO and Luke as the teenager who got caught making out with the teacher’s aid from his English class senior year was the number of digits in his bank account.

  It took me most of the journey to the elevator before I started feeling that unnerving feeling again. I’d been up to the executive floor at least once a day, and Mr. Carrick was always in his office or otherwise not around. It’s not like he’d even have said anything; I just wanted to avoid the discomfort of seeing him again.

  While the elevator went up and up and up, my eyes were closed as I tried to meditate my way through the adrenaline. The only thing I could envision behind my eyelids, though, was that light coming on and feeling like I’d just been discovered as some kind of fraud.

  The elevator dinged and the doors opened. I slowly opened my eyes, telling myself I was ready for anything. When Mr. Carrick wasn’t standing there, I was still overwhelmed with relief, though. It’s hard to make yourself believe something when you know it’s nothing more than a coping mechanism. If he had been there, I probably would have just frozen again.

  I got to my brother’s office and stayed out of the way while he finished up his work for the day. It was really something, seeing Luke work. I’ve only ever thought of him as my brother, but having listened to his half of a lot of phone calls between the time I got there and the time we left, I have to say I was really proud of his work ethic. Plus, it was kind of cool to see my little brother telling some of the most powerful people in the city they could take their deal and shove it. It’s true he only said it once that I heard, but it was still impressive.

  When the clock finally started cooperating with my appetite, Luke buzzed Marika, his assistant, to let her know she could head home for the day. Words could not express my anticipation. It wasn’t even that much about the food; I just wanted to have one of those upper-crust experiences Luke’s bachelor ways had denied me so far.

  I even had the perfect dress in mind. It would likely be the least expensive dress in the room, but it was slimming, soft, gorgeous. It was one of those dream garments that hid what I wanted to hide while accentuating what I wanted to accentuate. It wasn’t very revealing, but I was going to dinner with my brother, so that was a positive.

  We went home and I got changed, feeling the firm hug of the fabric around me. The dress was a little tight, but it was just that perfect shade of deep red that played so well against my long, off-black hair. I had my makeup done and was ready to go a full hour before our reservations. When we finally pulled up to Amaretto Black, I was famished.

  There were people crowded around the front desk, each trying to pass off another excuse as to why they didn’t have a reservation. When Luke came into sight of the maître d’, though, we were ushered in without another moment’s hesitation.

  The restaurant itself was marvelous with black-cushioned mahogany chairs at the tables, long, white tablecloths, and a ceiling at least twenty feet high. I’d always expected it to be so much darker than it was, but every accent, every flourish, every bit of décor was enlivened by the warm light coming from the translucent wall sconces.

  What was more enticing than anything, though, was the food and the smells were beyond anything for which I coul
d have prepared myself. It was a different world, and I was in it.

  The maître d’ sat us in one of the center tables with a decent view of the restaurant, and it was all I could do to keep my watering mouth from dropping open and embarrassing Luke and I out of our reservation. When the two of us were alone again, I leaned forward, an in a near-whisper, I said, “I can’t believe you can actually score reservations here.”

  “You can talk normally,” he whispered back. In his normal voice, he returned, “I never really saw the appeal of spending hundreds of dollars on a single meal, but as long as you’re paying, I guess I don’t mind.”

  “Sure,” I told him. “I’ll pay the bill when you and I switch jobs.”

  “Actually, tonight, neither of us is paying.”

  “You’re not going to do what you did at that Italian place growing up and sneak out the bathroom window, are you?”

  “No,” he chuckled. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin it, but my boss is going to join us. There are a couple of things we need to hash out, but I promise, tonight’s not just business. Actually, I think the two of you would get along really well. In fact, you’re just his type.”

  I blushed a little, even though I’d met Luke’s boss. Mr. Yearly, the CFO of Farnsworth & Temple, may well have been a very handsome man back in his day. The problem was Mr. Yearly’s day was about forty years before the dinner, so while I faked appreciation for the compliment, I clung desperately to some kind of hope that I wouldn’t have to fend off the aging executive all night.

  Our waiter came by and we ordered our drinks. I requested a glass of Krug Clos d’Ambonnay 1998, since I didn’t get to taste it that night at the hotel. Meanwhile, Luke was more content with, “Whatever cola you guys have on tap.”

  “Cola on tap, now there’s a discerning choice,” I teased.

  “Hey, we can’t all be pretentious.” Luke smiled, but a moment later, his face was stern. “All right, he’s here. Just be polite and don’t embarrass me. I kind of forgot to mention it wouldn’t be just him and me tonight.”

  I donned my grandest, most old-money-worthy smile. Moving my lips as little as possible, I muttered, “Ambushing your sister is thoughtless, but ambushing your boss is just stupid. This should be fun.”

  Luke stood, and not wanting to be disrespectful, I stood as well. I turned to find Mr. Yearly, but that wasn’t who was coming toward the table. It was Mr. Carrick.

  My head spun back around to face Luke and I mouthed, “You didn’t tell me it was him.” My brother either couldn’t understand what I was trying to tell him, or he just ignored it. It would have been too late anyway.

  “Oh, please, sit,” Mr. Carrick said, finally reaching the table. “Luke, it’s good to see you as always, and it appears you’ve brought a guest.”

  “I hope you don’t mind, sir,” Luke said. “My sister and I have had these reservations for a while, and I didn’t want to—”

  “You should have told me that,” Mr. Carrick interrupted. “I don’t want to impose on a family evening in one of the finer restaurants Manhattan has to offer.”

  “Sir, dinner with you is hardly an imposition,” Luke said and looked at me, slowly nodding and widening his eyes. He was putting me on the spot so I could tell his boss, the man I’ve been trying to avoid entirely, that he was welcome to join us for my dream dinner.

  “No,” I chimed in, under duress, “it’s not an imposition at all. Please, join us.” With that, we all sat down at our nice little table in what was apparently hell itself.

  “So, Luke, are you going to introduce me to this charming young lady, or aren’t you?” Mr. Carrick asked.

  “Yes, of course,” Luke sputtered. His nervousness in front of his boss would have been endearing, possibly funny, if his boss were anyone else. “This is my sister.”

  “I gathered as much,” Mr. Carrick said and turned to me. “It seems your brother is still a bit jittery around the boss. What is your name?”

  It didn’t even occur to me that we hadn’t exchanged those pleasantries already, but that night in the club and then at the hotel, there wasn’t a lot of dialog. The only way I could imagine making it through dinner was to play along. “I’m Marcy. You mean to tell me Luke has never mentioned his big sister?” I asked, doing my best to pretend confidence. “Why, if I were CEO, I’d probably have him fired.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement,” Mr. Carrick said.

  “Doesn’t your name come from Greek mythology originally or something?” Luke asked. It was a stupid question, because he’s the one that looked it up all those years ago. Apparently, he thought the name Marcia would end up meaning something stupid or humiliating. When he found out the root came from Mars, the Roman god of war, he stopped teasing me about it. He was trying to use that to impress his boss. I loved my brother, but he could really be an idiot.

  “Actually,” Mr. Carrick said, “I’m almost certain it’s Roman, but that’s neither here nor there. I don’t want to bore our dinner guest with too much business, but there are a few things I need you to take a look at for me. I would go to Yearly about it, but since you’re here and I think Bruce is more interested in the golden parachute coming his way than getting things done, I wonder if you might be able to take on a couple of things.” Mr. Carrick turned to me, saying, “I hope you can forgive us.”

  About the best I could manage was a dismissive wave. So they talked while I just sat there. Luke glanced over at me a few times like he wanted me to jump in and say something witty, but I didn’t have the faintest idea what they were talking about. The innermost workings of the business world were still above my head.

  The waiter arrived with the drinks Luke and I had ordered, and for a brief moment, I had a reprieve. I still didn’t know how to approach the situation, but at least now there was alcohol. Everything went sideways, though, when the waiter opened his big, stupid mouth.

  “Your cola, sir,” the waiter said, handing Luke his glass, “and miss, your Krug Clos d’Ambonnay, 1998, as requested. Mr. Carrick, would you like the usual?”

  “Actually,” Mr. Carrick said, “I think I’ll have a glass of what she’s having.” He looked at me until I looked away. It took about three seconds. “I must say,” he continued, “that is quite a discriminating choice. I wonder where you first learned of that particular vintage. You know there aren’t that many bottles of it lying around anymore.”

  “It came highly recommended,” I answered. “Apparently, the champagne comes from a single vineyard, barely over an acre-and-a-half large.” It was an interesting choice, feeding Mr. Carrick his own words back to him, but at least I had something to add to the conversation.

  “Oh, you don’t know that,” Luke scoffed.

  “It would appear she does because she is absolutely correct,” Mr. Carrick said. “Are you a connoisseur, or were you introduced to this particular nectar of the gods?”

  “I’m hardly a connoisseur, although I’ve always been interested in learning some of the finer points of oenology.”

  “Okay, who are you and where’s my sister, am I right?” Luke said, laughing nervously. “Well, I’m going to…I’ve just gotta….” His face was red. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Luke got up and left the table. As soon as he was out of earshot, I leaned toward Mr. Carrick, saying, “I honestly didn’t know you were going to be here, or that he’d invited both of us.”

  “How’s your champagne?” he asked.

  “Mr. Carrick—”

  He leaned in close and whispered, “I’ve been inside you. I’m pretty sure you can call me Dean.”

  I swallowed. “Dean, maybe it’d be a good idea for me to just find another job. With my brother’s position at your company, I don’t think this is going to be the last time we’re pushed together like this.”

  “I didn’t know who you were when we met in that club, but you knew who I was. More than that, you knew you were going to be going into work the very next d
ay at my company. I suppose what I’m wondering is why. We could have saved every last bit of the awkwardness I’d imagine we’re both feeling right now.”

  “I know. I don’t know. I was caught off guard at first, and then everything went so fast. I kept trying to find a good time to say something, but that’s kind of hard with someone else’s mouth over mine.”

  Dean blushed a little. “Do you think your brother would approve if he knew what happened between the two of us?”

  “You really don’t strike me as the kind of person that really cares about that sort of thing.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Since when do you go to people like my brother to seek approval?”

  A smile slowly lifted the corners of his mouth. “In business? Constantly.”

  “Sex?” I asked in a whisper.

  “Your brother and I aren’t that close.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I think you were right from the start: we should just treat that night as if it never happened, and the best way I can think to do that is for me to leave.”

  “I hear you do good work.” Dean took a sip of his water. “Johnstone tells me you’re just what his department needed. Now, I’m inclined to agree with you, that it’d be easier if you were to simply work somewhere else, but when talent comes into the building, I’ve always prided myself on trying to nurture it. As long as we don’t make too much of what happened, I think we can work in the same building without the world coming to an end. What do you think?”

  “Sorry about that,” Luke said, startling both Dean and me from our private conversation. “What are you two talking about?”

  I stammered a little, but Dean was on top of it. “Your sister was just telling me her impressions of the company, now that she’s working for us.”