Billionaire's Valentine - A Standalone Novel (A Billionaire Boss Office Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #7)

by Claire Adams

  "You think I need help relaxing?" I asked, amused. I knew something that was really relaxing. I shot heroin; that was the most relaxing habit there was.

  "You must if you need a vacation," he said. I smiled, looking out the window. He was all right. Making conversation with the people in the back of his car was probably what got him through this job.

  I couldn't relate. I'd had my eye on a music career since I was a teenager. I had never really done anything else. I wondered what it was like driving a cab for a living. Probably not great, but if I had to do it, I'd probably choose doing it here than in LA.

  "Yeah, I just needed to get away. I haven't been here in years. I forgot how beautiful it is."

  "Lanai is the only island that's still wild," he said matter-of-factly. "Miles and miles totally untouched. The hikes are amazing," he raved. "You'll love it." I smiled. I already sort of did.

  "You here alone?" he asked.

  "Yeah. Just me."

  "Your family isn't joining you? Your wife? Girlfriend?"

  "No. I'm not seeing anybody," I said, answering a question I usually hated. I'd usually be suspicious if anyone else asked. Back in LA, when people asked that question, they already had an answer; they just wanted you to say something so they could pretend they cited you as a source in the fake article they would write later. I was sure that this guy had no idea who I was and was really just trying to make me feel welcome on the island. He was genuinely curious.

  "You're lucky. The most beautiful women in the world come from Hawai'i," he said, looking at me through the rearview mirror. I smirked. Oh, yeah. I knew that. He didn't have to tell me twice. If everything went according to plan, I'd be getting close to more than a few women while I was here.

  He kept going like that, making casual conversation. I didn't discourage him because the more he talked, the less I could think about the heroin literally inches away from me in my backpack. I learned that he worked as a driver during the peak tourism season and was a salesman the rest of the year. He had three kids, two whom had moved to Oahu. His wife ran cultural programs for tourists.

  He had been right about a lot of the island not being built up. It looked wild, like people had forgotten about it. He said it had mostly been plantations and when some of them closed, they were abandoned, so the wild vegetation reclaimed the land. He offered to drive through the city in case I wanted to buy anything before we went to the hotel, but I told him not to bother.

  We finally got to the resort. The island was small, only like 150 miles or something, but I was running on fumes. I needed to get inside.

  I climbed out of the car, thanking the driver for the trip and tipping him because why not. A couple of porters tried to get my bags, but I told them I could do it myself. I walked into the lobby. It was nice. Flowers and shit everywhere. Looked really clean. Nothing like the Vegas Four Seasons, but still nice.

  I could see two girls at the front desk. Pretty young, surprisingly. One was Hawai'ian, the other was a blonde. The Hawai'ian one was smoking hot; she looked like a model. She was sitting, though, so I couldn't get a good look at her body.

  The blonde was standing up. She smiled at me as I came towards the desk. Straight white teeth and pink lips I didn't think were that way because of makeup. She was tanned – of course she was, she lived here – and her eyes were blue. Not like the ocean, lighter. Her hair was tied up in a bun. Her face was nice; cute button-nose and high cheekbones. Getting closer, I noticed light freckles across her nose. She was pretty.

  She was something else, too. I could see it. After a while, you can spot the look people get when they know it's you and don't want to say anything. They get this smile that they can't wipe off their face. The girls giggled. They looked at you like they knew your secret. She was a fan. Shit, I thought I'd be able to fly under the radar for once. I had wanted this place instead of Honolulu for this exact reason.

  She hadn't said anything yet, though, and so far, she seemed to be the only person who knew. All right. This wasn't the end of the world. She was working, so maybe she'd be professional and keep her mouth shut. If she asked about the band, though, I was drowning myself in the ocean.

  "Aloha," she said, that smile not dropping for a second. "Welcome to Lanai Four Seasons."

  "Hey, uh, thanks," I said. Wow, looked like someone loved their job. The other woman got up and greeted me the same; she was also smiling and nice, but it was like a regular sort of nice that they probably taught you at hospitality school. Polite, but sort of detached.

  "Is this your first time in Hawai'i?" she asked me. I read her name tag. Makani.

  "No. I've been here a few times," I said.

  "First time on Lanai?"

  "Yeah, I usually stay on the Big Island."

  "First of many, we hope," she said. I looked in her face searching for any sign she knew who I was. Nothing. I relaxed. This really had been the right place to come. Apparently, Remus didn't get radio play on this island.

  "Yeah. Let's hope so." I handed her my credit card and identification so she could check me in.

  "You're booked into the Presidential Suite," she said. I watched, suddenly nervous when I saw her give the blonde my stuff. Oh shit. If she hadn't recognized me already, she sure as shit knew who I was now. She was looking right at my goddamn ID. She clicked at her computer.

  "Our manager, Mr. Kalo, informed us of your special requests," the blonde said without looking up. "Your suite has been stocked with everything you asked for." I checked her name tag. Abby.

  "That's great. Thanks," I said, noticing she didn't say anything else. Huh. Maybe she didn't know who I was. Maybe I was giving myself too much credit.

  "If you're ready, sir, Abby will take you up to your suite," Makani said, giving me back my stuff.

  "Yeah, sure, let's go," I said. Abby came around the desk and asked me to follow her. She told me one of the porters could get my bag, but I felt better handling my own heroin.

  The suite was on the second floor, so we took the elevator up. She walked slightly ahead of me, and I checked her out while I was back there, not gonna lie. Her uniform wasn't really flattering, but she looked like she had a rocking little body under there if you got her in something more revealing.

  "If you're hungry after your trip, there are seven restaurants and bars for you to choose from, open till ten o'clock. The bars remain open till eleven pm. The option of in-room dining is available, as well, if you'd prefer," she said. "You must have had a long flight."

  "It was okay," I said absently.

  "The spa is open between eight am and eight pm. You can book appointments yourself or phone the concierge to do it for you, if you need to unwind after your journey," she suggested. I grunted in response. It was nice of her to say but I wasn't interested in getting a massage. "It might be what you need before your day tomorrow."

  "My day tomorrow?" I asked.

  "There are so many things to do; you aren't spending three months in your suite, are you? It's a nice suite, but look where we are," she said.

  I smirked a little. She sounded more excited about my vacation that I even was. This must have been fun for her. This job. Gotta respect someone who was doing something they loved and was doing it well.

  "Guess I can't spend all my time inside if I came all the way here, can I?"

  "Of course not," she said, looking back to smile at me. She started rattling off a list of things I could do at the Four Seasons Lanai. Golf, snorkeling, and hiking. Horseback riding, nature tours, water sports. Things I didn't particularly care for, but the way she said them made me think they were worth checking out.

  We quickly got to the room. She slid the card into the slot and opened the room. I followed her inside. I had known it was going to be a nice place, but I hadn't booked the room myself. Casey had, and I'd never bothered to look at any pictures online. I got the Presidential Suite at every hotel I stayed at, but this was basically an apartment.

  "You're a lucky man, Mr. Stone. You hav
e the best room in the house," she said walking in ahead of me. "There is just one bed, but you can request for another. You have two full bathrooms, a private terrace, and prime oceanfront views of the Marine Sanctuary and Hulopoe Beach. In-room dining is twenty-four hours, and housekeeping comes by twice daily." I followed her, taking it in.

  The living area looked like it was big enough for a family to use. There was a dining table, couches, and a television. A piano was against one wall close to the entrance. It opened up to the terrace, which overlooked the beach.

  "So what do you think?" she asked.

  "It's nice," I said appreciatively.

  "It is, but hopefully you won't be spending too much time up here. The beach is accessible all day. You have full, free access to the tennis courts and fitness center, and the island adventure center is open between seven and six, where we can arrange day long excursions to different parts of the island." I nodded, listening to her. I hadn't really come here to have an island adventure, but I liked her enthusiasm. She made me almost want to sign up for something.

  "Thank you. This is great. I appreciate it."

  "If you need anything, I'm downstairs all day, every day. If I'm not at the desk, just ask the person you find there for Abby," she said. I said I would and watched her leave, leaving my key card on a table by the door.

  I looked around the suite: my home for the next three months. I rolled my suitcase into the bedroom. It was decorated the same way the living space was, with a massive television on the wall and a pair of sliding glass doors that opened out to the terrace. I took my hoodie off and lay down, face up on the bed. Comfy. I could get used to this place.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and realized I hadn't taken it off of airplane mode. You didn't really have to do that when you were flying, but I liked to since it was a good excuse to ignore people who were trying to reach you. The minute I was plugged back in, I saw the missed calls and text messages from Kirsten. Why was she so damn persistent? I knew better than to read them this time and deleted them all.

  What was the fucking point, though? Where the hell did I have to go to get away from it all? What if it didn't even matter? I'd always have that bitch breathing down my neck. I'd leave Hawai'i and everything back in LA will just be worse. She'd sue me for more money. The label wouldn't let me out of my contract. Everyone in the band would start hating each other. What if I couldn't fix it?

  I sat up. I was too anxious to stay in one place. I needed to do something. I needed something to calm me down. I looked out at the beach. Now seemed like a good time for a drink.

  Chapter Four

  Abby

  Our shifts wrapped up at around seven thirty at night. Since it was still early in the season, the day hadn't been that stressful. I never really left work feeling drained or like I just wanted to pass out until the next day.

  I was still on a high from meeting Nate Stone. I wasn't innocent. I'd absolutely imagined what it would be like to meet him and the other members of Remus, but since I had, I wasn't sure what I thought anymore.

  He hadn't been mean or anything. He just hadn't been what I had expected. As a person who had only really met him for the first time that day, I knew quite a lot about him. Not on a private level, but I listened to his music, and his lyrics were deeply personal. Anybody could find out his birthday, height, and weight on the internet if they really wanted to. He was a public figure. People wrote about him, therefore people knew about him, whether or not they actually really knew him.

  It was weird. I felt like I was looking at this face that was so familiar to me, and this person I felt like knew a lot about, but talking to me, he just seemed like a guy who was tired from a long flight and wanted to rest in his hotel room. After leaving him in his suite, I'd come back down and told Makani who he was.

  Nate Stone, yup, the same one whose music I was always making her listen to. We were talking about what had happened that day when she remembered.

  She had just been doing her job, checking in another guest, and I had been standing there trying very hard not to make a fool out of myself. I had been a little surprised when she said I'd walk him up to his suite. It made sense, thinking about it later, that I would do it since it was me Joseph had asked to make sure his suite was ready for him.

  It was just still a little surreal, even though we'd talked and he was indeed a normal human being just like all the rest of us. It was Nate Stone. I had had him so built up in my head as this beautiful guy who wrote amazing music, and my first encounter with him had to be when he'd gotten off a long flight and wanted a nap.

  Maybe I should have let her do it since I'd been a little star struck talking to him. He hadn't made it awkward, just hard to have a conversation since he hadn't seemed to have much to say. It had sort of felt like he had been waiting for me to finally shut up and leave so he could get in the shower and go to sleep or something.

  "You were up there for a little while. What happened with that guy? The band guy you like?" Makani asked as we left the resort.

  "I was just showing him around the suite. Telling him what he could do. How he could discover Lanai, the usual stuff."

  "This guy's like your idol, right? How was he?"

  "I wouldn't call him my idol," I said, smiling at her. "I just like his music. He was fine. Sort of quiet. Obviously, you saw him, too. Very hot."

  "The truth comes out. You don't love him for his talent. You love him because you want to give him his firstborn child," she laughed, teasing me. I felt myself blushing. She wasn't doing this to me; she had seen him, too.

  He had some scruff on his chin, a nice hard jawline, and deep hazel eyes. His hair was dark brown, sort of like Makani's was. Longish, but not long enough to cover his face. Nate Stone was a cute guy. I wasn't the only one who thought so. He was really tall, and he looked like he worked out a lot, even through the hoodie he had been wearing. I also knew that one of his arms was covered in tattoos. His looks and image did nothing to hurt his band's popularity, but he was actually a really talented guy.

  "I didn't hear you disagree," I said pointedly. She laughed.

  "All right, maybe I saw it a little," she said. "He's good looking if you like that sort of brooding, bad-boy type."

  I never got shy talking about guys with Makani. I wasn't a big dater, but we worked at a beach resort. Guys had their shirts off in front of us most of the time. A lot of the time, those guys were pretty cute. I was attracted to Nate Stone, but who knew about Remus and wasn't? I didn't need to sound like a crazy fan who'd try steal his dirty clothes when he sent them to the laundry.

  "Did you say anything to him?" she asked.

  "What? No. He's here on vacation. He didn't come here to get bothered by fans."

  "You didn't have to bother him. Just tell him you knew who he is and you enjoy his work."

  "No, I'm glad I didn't say anything. He didn't seem like he really wanted to chat. He's here alone for a long time, that sounds like someone who's trying to get away."

  "From what? He's a famous musician. I'd say that was the life," Makani quipped. I saw what she meant, but she hadn’t been there when I was talking to him. The only reason I could think of why he had come on vacation and for such a long time was because he wanted to get away from everything. He probably didn't get the kind of privacy he could get here when he was at home.

  Either that or he wanted time alone to create, which was really exciting. He was a songwriter, so maybe he was here to have some time to put music together because Remus was getting back together and releasing new music?

  In either case, he had come here alone, most likely because that was what he wanted to be: alone. Maybe if he seemed a little more at ease, I'd mention that I enjoyed his music. I really wanted to tell him. His music and lyrics were good, and he deserved to know. It felt sort of silly, but his band's music meant a lot to me. I didn't feel like I was just a fan, but that's probably how every fan felt.

  "He and his band just separated not that
long ago; he probably just wants a break from the drama. Somewhere he can just be a normal person." Somewhere nobody knew who he was, and he could pretend what he'd left behind didn't exist. I understood if that was what he wanted to do. I could relate.

  "So you just won't tell him?" she asked. I thought about it.

  "If he asked me, I wouldn't lie and say I'd never heard his music, but I'm not going to say anything first. He's on vacation. I don't want to be the reason he has to be on the lookout for photographers or people who are going to try to mob him."

  "Guess he's lucky he chose Lanai," Makani quipped. She asked me whether I wanted to go out to eat that night. Her treat. The sun had gone down but the night was warm and a little balmy.

  The nightlife here on Lanai had been the only one I'd ever experienced. Before moving, I'd been too young to go to clubs. Most of the places we went to have a good time were accessible by the beach, so we didn't have to drive or walk the streets.

  We had changed out of our uniforms at the hotel. We had the option to eat there, too, but decided instead to go out. The food at the hotel was great, but it was for tourists. Good, but not authentic. There was a lot of really fancy, gourmet food and fine dining.

  Nothing like the stuff you'd get at a luau that was simple and delicious, made by people who'd been taught to cook by their families, not a culinary school. I didn't pretend I could cook Hawai'ian food, but I liked to think I'd eaten enough to know when it was good or not.

  The food had been one of the biggest changes that I'd had to deal with when I moved here. We didn't tend to get a lot of poke in Rochester, Texas. Four years in, and I could eat my weight in lomi-lomi salmon any day of the week.

  After stopping by my place and driving back to hers in the city to drop her car off, we decided we'd go to a little restaurant her friend owned. We walked there from her house since it was only about ten minutes away.

  Unless you knew about the place, you wouldn't be able to find it. It didn't have a big lit up sign outside or a line around the block. The only tourists you saw in there were the ones who had been smart enough to get a local to tell them where to get real Hawai'ian food.