Matched with the Billionaire

by Audra Cole

  I took a quick half-step backward and smiled. “Guess you’ll have to check your calendar and see if you’re free on Friday.”

  Landon grinned. The words ‘challenge accepted’ written all over his beautifully smug face.

  It took every ounce of resolve to gently pull my arm away from him. He watched me go, his eyes not bothering to hide their perusal of my backside as I turned my head to look back at him. “Goodnight, Mr. Jeffers.”

  “Sweet dreams, Candace.”

  Oh, there is very little doubt of that…

  Chapter Six

  True to his parting words, I had dreams about Landon both nights leading up to Valentine’s Day. And while I wasn’t sure anyone would categorize them as sweet, they’d certainly been satisfactory. Especially as they turned into my only escape from the circus that ravaged the other eighteen hours of my day as the preparations for the party went from intense to all-consuming. I’d assumed that once everything was done, I’d feel better. The pressure would release and I could enjoy myself. But Friday night didn’t bring any relief. I stood at the front of the banquet room, surveying months of work, and found that my belly was knotted up tighter than ever.

  “Here, you look like you need this?”

  I turned and found Georgia, decked out in a body-con red dress, offering me a flute of champagne.

  I waved off the drink, but she persisted, pressing the stem into my hand. “Come on. Drink up, Buttercup. You’re visibly losing your shit, which is not a good look for tonight.”

  “Flattering,” I replied, adding an eye roll. “I actually thought I was doing well. I haven’t Hulk-smashed anything or bitch-slapped the coat check girl even though she’s just standing there, flirting with the fucking bartender, like she doesn’t even realize that our guests will be arriving in”—I checked my delicate platinum watch—“ten minutes! Meanwhile, the front walk has three twinkle lights out. And no one bothered to sweep the front walk, or remove those hideous—”

  “Shh. Drink.” Georgia pushed the flute towards my rambling mouth.

  I conceded and took a swill of the drink. It was high-end, no-expense-spared champagne and my tongue rejoiced as the sweet bubbles tickled my taste buds.

  “This isn’t about the front walk, twinkle lights, or any of that other nonsense you just tried to feed me. You’re freaking out because you’re worried that Landon’s going to get dragged off by some slut-puppy, gold-digger.”

  “Shhh!” I hissed at her, before casting a panicked glance around the room. “Georgia, you cannot go around spouting off things like that. First of all, not only is it completely and one hundred percent untrue. My job depends on him finding someone interesting tonight. And secondly, if I’m worried about anything, it’s that I haven’t heard from him. I don’t even know if he’s going to show!”

  Georgia grinned through my mini meltdown and then took a long, slow sip from her cocktail glass.

  I scowled at her. “Ugh. Don’t look at me like that. I know what you’re thinking. I’ll be fine. It’s not like there was a scenario where Landon Jeffers and I would ever make sense. I shouldn’t have even told you about that dinner.”

  “I’m your best friend. You kind of have to tell me. That’s like standard boilerplate in all bestie contracts.” She giggled and swirled the mini straw through the pink liquid in her glass. “He’ll be here, so stop worrying.”

  I looked over towards the door. “I hope you’re right, otherwise I’m a dead duck.”

  “Keep drinking the champagne and try to breathe. You’ve done everything you can do to make tonight a success.”

  “I kind of just can’t wait for it to be over. At this point, I’m a shoe-in for the volunteer firefighter squad given how many fires I had been putting out over the past few days.”

  “Smart girl. Front row seat to some major firefighter ogling.”

  I laughed. “I suppose that’d be one fringe benefit.”

  “Well, Leticia is gonna flip. The place looks gorgeous and the food is kick-ass. And if all else fails, I saved her a goodie bag, so at least she won’t go home empty handed.” Georgia winked and then downed the frothy remnants of her drink.

  I winced. “You know, call me crazy, but I don’t really want to think about what our boss would do with a Sparklestick 500, a tube of strawberry flavored lube, and a bottle of chocolate body paint. All right?”

  “Fair enough.” Georgia laughed. “I’ve got my eye on the DJ to make sure I don’t suffer the same fate.”

  I followed Georgia’s stare across the room to where the DJ booth was set up. The man wearing a pair of oversize headphones, mouthing along to the song, was attractive. Definitely more Georgia’s type than mine. She liked them big and beefy. Whereas I was a sucker for the tall, sculpted, chiseled-jaw variety.

  Landon popped into my head and I squeezed my eyes closed for a moment, willing away the image.

  “Good luck with that.” I blinked a few times and Landon’s mischievous grin faded. “I’ve got a new bottle of bath salts, a bouquet of fresh lilacs, and a bottle of moscato waiting for me at home.”

  Georgia smirked. “Tub big enough for two?”

  “Georgia, he’s not interested in me. Okay? Besides, as soon as he gets here he’s going to get pounced like a steak in a tiger’s cage.”

  “Uh-huh. Honestly, Candace, I think your biggest problem is going to be getting him to tear his eyes away from you long enough to consider any of the tarts coming here tonight.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “Tarts? Really, Georgia?”

  “Spade’s a spade. Let’s be honest, these ladies tonight are all coming because they were promised free drinks and a room full of rich, relatively attractive guys who are all certified single and rich.”

  “And? That means they can’t be honestly looking for love?”

  She shrugged. “I plead the fifth, for the sake of my own job.”

  “You’re such a cynic,” I chided her. “All right, as fun as this is, I need to go wrangle the coat check girl and make it clear that if she leaves her post to go flash her cleavage at the bartender one more time, she’s leaving without a paycheck.”

  “Rawr! Have I mentioned that I love your feisty side? Pretty sure Landon will too.”

  I rolled my eyes and propelled her forward. “Go check on the maintenance man. I want all my twinkle lights working!”

  She gave me a salute with her free hand, and then leaned in to whisper, “I’ll text you as soon as I see your man.”

  Before I could scold her, she tossed me a wink and trotted off towards the foyer.

  Good grief. What am I gonna do with her?

  For the most part, it was easy to brush off Georgia’s teasing, but if I was honest with myself, there was a spark of hope buried deep inside my stomach that wondered if she was right. I told myself it was ridiculous, that I barely knew the man, and that there was no way he was possibly as interested in me as I suddenly was in him, and yet…

  No matter what I told myself, I couldn’t stop thinking about Landon’s smooth, deep voice, the subtle curve of his bottom lip, his strong jawline that was brushed with a hint of scruff. And his eyes? I shivered just thinking about the way he made me feel like he was already plotting what kind of things he could do with me—or, to me.

  Man, I need to get laid. I downed the rest of the champagne and snagged another glass from a passing server.

  The guests were starting to filter in, and I knew I had just enough time for one more glass—to help loosen me up and make sure I didn’t act like a complete cyborg for the rest of the night.

  Nursing the champagne, I turned my attention to the tablet in my hands, full of digital notes of the guests who would begin pouring in within the next few minutes. There would be nearly two hundred people in attendance. With Leticia’s goal in mind—that no one go home alone—I knew the night was going to be a ton of work. It would take every ounce of finesse and manipulating to play cupid to that many couples in one night. My plan of attack was fairl
y simple; go to each table of ten and see who was clicking, who was not, and get the easy matches out of the way. Then, with the herd thinned, I could devote the most amount of time to making sure the stragglers paired off before midnight.

  I was studying my notes, debating who to go and check in with first, when a message flashed at the top of the screen.

  Georgia: He’s here!

  ***

  Originally, when I’d come up with the masquerade theme, it had been lauded as a genius move. After all, masks were playful, mysterious, and above all, intensely sexy. Well, at least, on most people. A few people missed the seductive vibe completely and ended up in the horror movie extras department with what looked like weird prosthetics.

  And they wonder why they’re single? I thought, walking past a few painfully awkward looking gentlemen.

  “If that isn’t job security, I don’t know what is,” I muttered to myself after offering them warm, welcoming smiles. “Yeesh!”

  That unexpected issue aside, the real problem with the masks was that it made it impossible for me to find Landon. The majority of the men in attendance were wearing dark suits, black masks, and other than hair color and facial hair choices, it was difficult to tell one from the next. Although I’d been obsessing about Landon for the past few days, I wasn’t confident I could spot him in the sea of masked men that poured into the banquet room.

  All of the guests were assigned a spot at a table, which served two purposes, it allowed us to serve a proper dinner, as well as ensure that the singles were in close proximity to other singles that were meticulously vetted to determine successful matches. My gaze swept the space for Landon as I circled through the room. Even as I stopped at each table, making sure everyone found their place, I was on red alert for Landon. On the inside, I was freaking the fuck out, but I kept the exterior calm and collected, flashing a wide smile as I worked the room. I introduced myself to the attendees that I hadn’t met in recruiting meetings over the past few months and explained how the evening would progress.

  I was on my third table introduction, still not able to locate Landon, when I caught sight of Leticia. She was circling the room with a tablet in her hands, taking notes as she observed the party. I could feel her eyes boring into me as I flitted from table to table. She was the world’s most amazing boss, but when she was in matchmaking mode, it was best to do your job and stay out of her way. It was like she transformed into someone—or something—else and if you overlooked any detail you were in for the ass chewing of your life.

  So far, everything seemed to be going well. Everyone was drinking—but not intoxicated—and laughing. The appetizers were coming out of the kitchen ahead of schedule. The sound system was working. As a bonus, I hadn’t seen the coat check girl wandering back to the bar and figured I’d make it through the night without having to fire anyone. I really couldn’t ask for anything more. And yet, my pulse was racing like I had just hopped off the stair master following a thirty-minute session on the routine I affectionately referred to as the “ASS ON FIRE” program.

  Where was Landon?

  After making the rounds, I hurried to the foyer to check in with Georgia. My heels skidded on the gleaming floor and I stumbled to a stop in front of the entryway table, nearly taking out the host station. “Damnit, I told them to wax these floors, not turn them into a fucking ice rink!” I hissed.

  Georgia eyed me. “I see you’re taking that calm down chat we had to heart.”

  “Yeah, you probably should have slipped me a Xanax if you were hoping for long lasting results.” I leaned over her, studying the tablet in her hands. The screen displayed little x’s for the guests on the virtual seating plan. “I got your text,” I said, lowering my voice so she was the only one who could hear me. “I haven’t seen him, and he’s not at his assigned table. What kind of mask is he wearing?”

  Georgia flashed a wide smile. “He had to borrow one. I gave him the Wesley one, just for you.” She waved at the table in front of her where we had a collection of masquerade masks for those who forgot to bring their own. The Wesley was in reference to the renegade pirate character from The Princess Bride—who just happened to be my biggest childhood crush, well, fictional childhood crush.

  I groaned. “You love this don’t you?” Landon was yummy enough without a mysterious black mask. Ugh. I clenched my thighs together, trying to alleviate the pressure building there at the idea of Landon, wearing a black mask, and nothing else, climbing up my body, as we tangled together in the middle of a four-poster bed…

  “You’re welcome.” She patted my arm. “Anyways, he checked in about half an hour ago, if he’s not inside, I really don’t know where he is.”

  “Okay.” I leaned back and peeked into the banquet room. “Well, if you—”

  My jaw dropped.

  There he was.

  Landon Jeffers—wearing an impeccably tailored black Armani suit—stood at the bar. He appeared taller and broader shouldered than even my most fantastical memories of him. His eyes were pure midnight seduction under the black velvet mask that concealed half of his face. His full lips turned up into a faint smile as his eyes locked with mine. He cocked his head and raised the tumbler in his hand in a silent toast.

  I wanted him to do very, very naughty things to me. Party be damned.

  Chapter Seven

  By the time I scraped my jaw off the floor, Leticia had zeroed in on the handsome stranger at the bar and was approaching him with the look a shark has right before going in for the kill. I could almost hear the JAWS theme music playing in the back of my head as I circled the edge of the banquet room.

  “Good evening, Mr. Jeffers. I’m so very glad you were able to join us,” I said, reaching him at the exact moment as Leticia.

  Leticia’s eyebrows arched as she realized who the handsome masked man was. “Mr. Jeffers? Now, where have I heard that name before?” She grinned at me.

  “Mr. Jeffers is from Seattle, he was a referral by our client Gina Rowe.”

  Leticia smirked—she was clearly enjoying this far too much. “Oh, that must be where I’ve heard your name. We’re happy to have you here tonight.”

  Landon inclined his head, holding my gaze for a moment longer than appropriate and then looked to Leticia. “Thank you. This is quite the party.”

  Leticia gave me a sideways glance and I could hear the wheels in her mind starting to turn. Another pitfall of working for a master body language interpreter. “This is Leticia Morgan, founder and CEO of Matched Consulting,” I told Landon.

  They exchanged a warm handshake and I tried to keep myself together. The smell of Landon’s cologne permeated my senses and sabotaged all attempts at rational thought.

  “Have you had a chance to meet your bevy of beauties?” Leticia asked, nudging me with a flick of her elbow.

  I blinked hard, desperate to clear the lusty fog that had taken over my brain in Landon’s presence. “Yes, of course, let me show you to your table and introduce you to some lovely ladies.” I waved a hand. Time to drop you in the piranha pool… “Excuse us,” I added to Leticia. She gave a tight-lipped smile and then sauntered off in the other direction.

  Landon flashed a wicked smile—made all the more so by his mask—and then offered me his arm. I didn’t want to take it. Touching him would be a mistake. But he stubbornly refused to drop the gesture and when I acquiesced and wrapped my hand around his firm bicep, his grin went another degree of deadly.

  My jaw tensed as I led the way across the room towards table number twelve, where three ladies—two in black, one in red; all with ridiculous amounts of cleavage—were waiting and watching our approach with hungry eyes.

  “I don’t want to presume anything,” Landon said, his voice low and husky, “but were you thinking about seeing me when you slipped into that dress?”

  Startled, my eyes flew to his and my stomach flip-flopped at the sheer lust pouring from them.

  “Hardly,” I asserted, breaking away. “I’m much more intere
sted in what you think of the three special ladies I’ve chosen for you to dine with tonight.”

  Liar.

  The dress was tight enough to show off the flared curves of my body and when I’d pulled on the black, over-the-knee, high-heeled boots that went with it, I’d squeezed my eyes closed and let myself get lost in what it would be like if Landon was knelt before me, peeling them off at the end of the night.

  As we neared the table, the smiles on the three women seated there continued to grow. They could hardly wait to get their hooks into him. I’d be lucky to get two minutes of his time for the rest of the evening. Which, should have made me happy. Even just having him there meant I was that much closer to my set of keys to the Seattle office. And yet, I found my feet dragging, feeling like I was wearing heels made of cement, as we inched closer and closer.

  It was the absolute worst rock and a hard place feeling I’d ever experienced. In front of me, a table of gold-digging piranhas with fake ta-tas and the honed ability to tell a man like Landon exactly what he needed to hear to slip a giant rock on their finger. Behind me, a boss who would eviscerate me if I messed the match—not to mention, the party—up.

  Then there was the man beside me. Seduction wrapped up in a designer suit. I drew in a deep breath and plastered a fake smile on my face as we reached the table and I made the introductions. Impressed that I’d remembered all of their names, I released Landon’s arm and let him greet each woman in turn. My stomach churned and I hurried to take a step back, ready to bow out of the conversation, but Landon caught me by the hand and pulled me back in closer. “Thank you, Candace.” His eyes sparked as he brushed his thumb over my knuckles. The touch was so simple, so gentle, but sent shock waves of electricity up my arm that ricocheted through my entire body.

  I licked my lips and gave him a nod. “You’re welcome.” I cut a glance at the table of ladies and they all looked like they were ready to scratch my eyes out with their acrylic nails. “Let me know if you need anything else.”