The Romance Challenge, Complete Series Box Set: BBW Hot Alpha Billionaire Romance

by Sterling, Arlanna

  Another reason not to go to Florida. Nothing to wear. This was the right decision. I glanced at my email and saw Nathan already answered.

  I'd never ask you to abandon your family duties, but I wish you'd reconsider. I didn't want to discuss this in front of everyone, but I'll be paying a generous bonus with this assignment. There will be an extra one thousand dollars added to your paycheck for the week. If I need you for future traveling work, there will be more bonuses.

  Holy shit! One thousand dollars. That would make a nice addition to my hire-a-private-detective fund. I paced my small living room. What to do?

  That's very generous. I'll consider it. May I let you know tomorrow?

  Yes, that's fine. Please say yes. I need you and your talents for this job.

  Me and my talents. What was so special about me? Should I ask? No. He'd think I was digging for compliments. He'd already given me the ultimate, picking me as his assistant for this trip. Anyway, time to get started on my freelance editing assignments, after I called Michelle's caregiver, Vicky. The CNA was older and not real big on "the texting thing," so we talked on the phone.

  "Hi hon. Michelle is fine today. She ate well. We played a game of cards."

  I shouldn't call the poor woman so often. Vicky would get in touch if any problems came up. She wanted to report better news for the past year and a half, other than what I already knew. Michelle remained physically healthy, mostly responsive, but terrified to leave her apartment and unwilling to talk to others. Since she'd been attacked over a year ago she shut herself away, turning into a recluse. She spoke to me, Vicky, and our mom and that was it. The rest of her time she spent in front of the television or her computer.

  "Listen, I hate to bring it up again, but I'm going to need more money starting next year. Gas has gone up, my insurance is higher, everything is. I'm sorry."

  My shoulder blades tightened. "I understand, really. Don't worry. Thank you, Vicky, you're an angel."

  She was. If not for her visiting Michelle five days a week, I didn't know what I'd do. Vicky checked to make sure her vital signs stayed stable, brought her groceries and cooked meals, and did light housekeeping when needed. Things I did twice a week, but couldn't get to every day with my jobs. I'd have to find the extra money to continue to pay her.

  I headed to the kitchen to grab an apple and peanut butter and smacked the thermostat on the way. Crap, would I have to wear gloves tonight? The heating system in my apartment behaved like a spoiled child, working fine one day and not at all the next. Numerous calls to my landlord produced zero results.

  Snack in hand, I sprawled on my couch with my laptop, trying to find a position that didn't hurt my back. If I bought a better sofa my spine would quit screaming so loud, but I didn't want to spend the money. Thrift store furniture would have to do for now. I dove into my work for two hours and quit when my eyes crossed and Pumpkin, my Tortie cat, pawed me incessantly and meowed in my ear. Time to eat. Cat food and a crunchy treat for her, warmed up chili for me.

  Then I got my lunch and clothes ready for the next day and looked longingly at my Kindle. I was in the middle of a delicious romance and really wanted to find out what happened after the couple got trapped in that cabin together, but I should get in another forty minutes of editing. The sooner I completed one job, the sooner I moved on to the next one and could keep that extra money rolling in. I could probably do at least one while I was in Florida…

  Hmmm. While I'd been busy, my subconscious had too. I wanted to go to Florida, and I could make it work, damn it. I would say yes to Nathan and leave for Key Largo in one week.

  No. Don't go. Trouble!

  Ignoring the screaming little voice in my head, my Bratty Inner Child I called her, I settled in and put my attention on the document in front of me. I'd have a chat with BIC later, calm her down. Give her chocolate, maybe. Her job, I'd figured out, was to keep me safe and not let me put myself in danger. That's why she yelled when I made decisions that might rock the boat.

  But sometimes, the safe path wasn't the best one. This time, I had to take that risk.

  Tuesday

  A little bitchy still hung in the air at work. Of course. Shannon and Becca had to be disappointed. But they were far too professional to let it affect our working relationship, and by the end of the day, we were good. That was one of the things I loved about this office. We all got along really well and helped each other. I was lucky to have this job.

  I'd emailed Nathan early and told him I was on board, after I made sure Vicky could work the Wednesday and Sundays I'd be away. By the afternoon, he'd sent me an itinerary of what he wanted to do at Bay Paradise Resort. Dang, I'd better buy a pair of sturdy tennis shoes. I'd be running nonstop. Good. The more I worked, the less time to dwell on my problems

  Speaking of clothes…I dusted off my credit card. I'd have to go shopping. My office attire consisted of slacks and tunic tops. Somewhat dressy, mostly casual, loose enough I didn't feel self-conscious about my size. Something more professional might be called for on this trip. Should I wear suits? No, too formal. I'd visit the consignment stores, see what caught my eye. Just as I was going online to check my credit limit, I got an email from Nathan.

  I'd like for you to go to Unique Uniforms today and be fitted for your uniforms. I'll be changing the dress code at Bay Paradise Resort and want you to wear the new style while you're there. All will be paid for by the company.

  Uniforms. Okay then. Good. One less thing to drain my bank account. During my off hours, I'd wear lightweight yoga pants and t-shirts, not the heavy sweats I'd been lounging in here. I checked the weather in Key Largo. Eighty-one degrees during the day, sixty-four at night. Hot damn! Compared to our mid-fifties and high-thirties, that sounded like heaven. For the first time, a thrill of excitement tingled through me. I might actually have some fun!

  I wanted to talk to Shannon and Becca about the trip, but thought that might be rubbing it in. Instead, I snuck out to my car for a break. Hopefully, I'd reach Jen on the phone.

  "Hey there! How's it going? What's up with this great job in Florida?" Her voice instantly put a smile on my face.

  I loved Jennifer. I heard kid noises in the background, but knew she would spend at least a few minutes talking to me, no matter what her rambunctious children were up to. I filled her in on the details while she made appropriately happy sounds.

  "So about this Nathan guy. He's hot, right?"

  "Yeah he is. But I'm not the least bit interested. I'm not touching that."

  "Oh, you don't have to touch, you can just look. But it might not hurt you to think about touching, you know?"

  I rolled my eyes at her tone. A lecture was on the way.

  "It's been a while since you had a guy in your life. Don't you think it's time to get a little action going in the romance department?"

  "No. I have enough action working two jobs and taking care of Michelle. I don't need a guy to complicate my life. Anyway, this trip is about business. I would never, ever, mess with the owner of my company, for one thing. And another, Nathan can and probably does, date super models, not large girls from Illinois."

  "You're not large. You're perfectly average, according to many studies. You've just put on a few extra pounds this last year with all the shit going down in your life. And you're really pretty, too. Don't argue with me, like I know you're going to. Get your hair trimmed, have one of those cosmetic girls at the department store show you how to make your eyes shine, you'll be a knock-out. Trust me."

  A shriek in the background signaled the end of our conversation. Saved by the wild kid. I promised to text her more details and lots of pictures, then hung up and climbed out of my car. A blast of cold air tried to push me back in. Yeah, ocean breeze would feel super good. Key Largo, here I come!

  +++

  "Say what?" I looked at the scrap of material the sales lady at Unique Uniforms held. "That's a pair of shorts."

  "Yes. You were expecting?" She furrowed her brow and looked me
up and down.

  Sharon, her embroidered name tag said. I'd never been professionally fitted for anything, ever. That's what brides and rich women did, and so far, I hadn't been either one of those. I did step in as a last-minute bridesmaid once, back in high school. One of my friends begged me to fill in at her sister's wedding, for a relative who couldn't make it. She said I would fit the dress nicely. I did, with a little altering by her mom. I had a sturdy, full body in my teens and even back then, I longed to be thin.

  "I was expecting pants. That come down to my calf, at least. I don't wear shorts." I never showed that much skin.

  "You do in Key Largo. Apparently. I've never been. This is what Mr. Cameron ordered."

  My stomach tightened. "Is that all he ordered? What about shirts?"

  "Let's see." Sharon pulled out a piece of paper. "Two shorts, three pants, four shirts."

  Pants. Good.

  "Here's a picture of the clothing. It's a nice line. You'll like it."

  Perhaps. "I wear my clothes loose. Please don't make anything too tight."

  Sharon ran her gaze over me again. "I'll make them to fit you perfectly, show off those sassy curves."

  "I don't want to show off my curves." Sassy. Yeah right.

  Sharon grinned. "You are a hot mamma. You don't like your body?"

  "It needs a little work right now."

  She shook her head and made tsking sounds. "You young girls, so concerned with your weight. Boys like some padding, you know? Something to hold onto, keep them warm at night."

  Oh Lord, please don't let her start a conversation about sex. I so did not want to have this discussion.

  She threw back her head and laughed, like she read my self-conscious little mind. "Don't worry, I will make your uniforms perfect. You'll see. Strip to your under things and step up here so I can get your measurements."

  Strip? Measurements? Why not just parade me naked down the street?

  A thousand dollars. I needed that money, bad. And maybe future bonuses. I couldn't be squeamish undressing in front of a stranger and I could certainly put on a pair of shorts. I grit my teeth and took off my clothes, then stepped up on a platform, willing the blush to stay off my cheeks. And hoping I'd worn underwear without holes. I watched in amazement as Sharon whipped her measuring tape around and finished in minutes.

  Nathan had to be paying Unique Uniforms a butt-load of money to work so fast. He'd decided to bring along an assistant on this trip at the last minute, he said. I guess that's the way they worked in his world, making decisions quick, paying whatever it took to have things done in your timeframe.

  "I'll have the uniforms ready for you by Friday. We close at five." Sharon wrote on a receipt, handed it to me, and angled her head. "You know, I've got a great hairdresser. I understand the humidity in Florida is crazy. You might want a trim before you go."

  What was it with people and my hair? I pocketed the card she handed me. Okay, I could take a hint. I'd make an appointment for tomorrow. This week would fly by. I had to stock up on cat food and treats because my neighbor downstairs, who loved Pumpkin and said she would have no trouble watching her, didn't drive. Then I had to finish my freelance assignments. I'd be able to take on one or two once I got to Florida, I hoped, but I knew I'd spend the first few days getting acclimated and didn't want to be overworked and stressed.

  Vicky was fine with working more days, especially since I promised her a bonus on top of the extra pay. I was getting a good one from Nathan, and believed in spreading the love around. So, most of the important items for this trip were dealt with, but I still had a million details to handle. I had to organize my projects at the job and get Becca up to speed to work on them, stop my mail, make sure my bills were paid ahead of time…

  Sitting in my car, I realized I was gripping the steering wheel like it was a life preserver.

  Stop. This will all get done. Make a list, focus on one thing at a time.

  That's what I was good at. Organizing. One reason Nathan chose me, and I wouldn't let him down.

  Wednesday

  "You look different." Michelle glanced up from the TV. "Your hair. Any news?"

  "I had it trimmed today. You like it?"

  "Yeah, I guess. Did the detective tell you anything?"

  "No, I'm sorry. He didn't call." My heart bled a little, as always, when I said this. We both waited for news from Chuck Taylor, the detective assigned to her case. But news never came.

  She turned back to her program.

  "I brought you a salad from the deli. And more of those frozen lunches you like. And eggs. Hey, how about we make an omelet for dinner? Then you can have the leftovers for breakfast tomorrow."

  "I don't feel like cooking. You can." Her attention didn't leave the screen.

  Wanting to stomp into the living room and yank her off the couch, hating myself for even thinking it, I unloaded the groceries and pulled out a frying pan, then whipped up scrambled eggs and bacon, enough for us and two more meals. Vicky enjoyed my cooking and always thanked me when I made extra for her. It was nice to be appreciated. Michelle liked the food I prepared and ate every bite, but she never acknowledged my efforts.

  "Let's sit in the kitchen and talk while we eat. I need to tell you something."

  I looked her over as she plodded in. Thank the Lord, she still practiced adequate personal hygiene and wore decent clothes. Jeans and a long-sleeve t-shirt today, neither article wrinkled or dirty. She and Vicky did laundry together. I'd made sure the apartment she rented came with a washer and dryer, since I knew Michelle wouldn't go out. The place was always clean, too. Vicky took care of running a mop over the floor and making sure dishes didn't stack up in the sink. I sent a thank-you prayer for the CNA's excellent skills handling my sister.

  Michelle wore her long hair either straight down or pulled back in a ponytail. Not dirty, but messy-looking. I studied her as I filled our plates, without being obvious. It looked like she'd lost weight. Maybe it was my imagination. I could never talk her into getting on a scale.

  "I'm going away for a week on a business trip, starting next Sunday. Vicky will come in on the two Sundays and the Wednesday I'm gone. I'll call you though, okay?"

  Michelle ate with her head bent over her plate, shoveling in the food. Today she had her hair down and used it like a curtain to hide her face. I reached out and gently pulled it back.

  "Hey, you in there?"

  "No, Michelle has left her body. She'll return your call soon."

  I dropped my hand and sat straight up in my chair. WTF? Had my sister gone loco? To my complete surprise, she giggled, then tucked those wayward hair strands behind her ear.

  "It's a joke, silly. Of course I'm in here."

  I whooshed out a breath of relief. "Very funny. Did you hear what I said?" Trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

  "Yes, I heard you. Fine. Where are you going?"

  "To Key Largo. To assist the owner of Cameron Industries with a resort he bought. That's where I work, Cameron Industries."

  "I know that. The owner, Nathan Cameron, right? Rich guy, really cute."

  Well smack my ass and call me Sally. "How do you know about him?"

  "I remember him from the paper a couple of years ago. I looked him up as soon as you got the job at Cameron. He had trouble with his fiancé."

  Wow. My sister investigated Cameron? "I never saw that in the papers, and I checked out the company."

  "In my special papers; that's where I read it."

  "You mean those gossip tabloids? Oh, come on. They're full of crap."

  I should have known. Since Michelle had locked herself away for the past eighteen months, she'd devoured those magazines. Maybe she lived her life vicariously through the rich and famous, or imagined she might become one of them. Who knows? Even before her attack, she'd read those silly papers now and then. More often and more thoroughly than I thought, clearly.

  Michelle resumed eating, but I couldn't let the subject drop. For one thing, this was
the most animated I'd seen her in a while. She made a joke! For another, a teeny little part of me wanted more info about Nathan. Gossip or not, there was usually a nugget of truth in those tabloid stories.

  "So, what about his fiancé?"

  "She died in a car accident a few years ago. Something about drugs. Not much got reported, I don't think. Guess they couldn't get a whole lot on him. He has a bunch of money, you know that?"

  "I figured. Cameron Industries does well." Hmmm. I might have to track that story down. Becca or Shannon must have details. "Anyway, you'll be okay here without me for a little while, right?"

  "I guess." The hair curtain was back in place. "You'll come back though, won't you?" Her voice trembled.

  My throat tightened and my eyes teared up. I put my hand on her shoulder, but she pulled away. "I will, I promise. And I'll keep trying to find that man. The cops will catch him soon, and put him away for a good long time. Right?"

  Silence.

  "Right?"

  "Right." A tired sigh.

  "Hey, look at me a minute."

  She tilted her head, and before I could stop myself, I stuck my tongue out and blew my lips. The confused expression on her face made me burst out laughing.

  "That's for teasing me earlier."

  A slow grin spread across her face. "You got spit on me."

  "I'll get more if you don't watch it. What do you want me to bring you back from Florida? You want some shells? I'll pick them right off the beach. And I'll even make sure no animals are

  inside them."

  The grin widened, and this time she let me touch her. I stroke her hair and vowed to earn the money we needed to help her. I wanted to bring back the woman I knew and loved, the one who smiled at me now with faith in her eyes.

  Sunday

  How did last week fly by so fast? I sat in the airport, a bead of sweat rolling down my low back. I didn't even want to bring a jacket, but it was too chilly in Chicago not to wear an outer layer. It would turn into a blanket or pillow on the plane. Not like I could fall asleep, though. I was way too excited. Only a three-hour flight, nonstop, thank heavens. My nervous self didn't need to be roaming around another airport, running to make a connection. I'd fly straight into Miami, where a car would meet me (maybe a limo!), and then drive an hour to Key Largo.