The Backdoor Billionaire's Bride

by Roz Lee

  She swallowed then spun her fork in the long noodles again. “Are you going to eat? You know, I could have stayed at home and done the same thing.”

  Ford turned his intense gaze on her. “A few more minutes, Becky Jean. I’ve almost got it.”

  “Got what? Are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

  “In a minute. Trust me, Becky Jean, this is good. Stupendous. Best idea I’ve had in ages.” He returned his gaze to the computer. Having no clue as to the quality of his previous ideas, she had nothing to judge this one by—provided he ever got around to sharing it with her.

  Becky took another bite then washed it down with a sip of some very good wine she’d found in the wine rack above the sink. When she’d asked Ford about opening it, he’d answered with a grunt, never even looking up. Surely no one would leave a special bottle of wine in a rarely used gatehouse. But, what did she know of rich people’s habits?

  Shrugging, she refilled her glass. It turned out to be damn good wine and shouldn’t go to waste.

  “Voila!”

  At Ford’s triumphant shout, Becky nearly jumped out of her skin. “Geez, Ford. Give a girl some warning. I almost spilled my wine.”

  “Pour me a glass, will ya? I’ll be right there.”

  She reached for the glass she’d set out for him over an hour ago. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  He had moved to the kitchen table where he’d set up a 3-D printer. “Soon, Becks. Real soon.” He slid a memory card into a slot on the printer. With his index finger poised in midair over a red button, he smiled at her. “Here goes nothing!”

  As soon as he punched the button, the printer whirred to life. Fascinated, Becky watched as the machine spit droplets of black goo onto a small platform. She’d heard about 3-D printing technology, but she’d never seen it in action. “What are you making?”

  He admired his creation in the making for a few seconds then joined her at the eat-in bar. Nodding at her almost-empty plate, he asked, “Any left for me?”

  She obviously wasn’t going to get any answers until Ford decided to give them, so she filled a plate and slid it in front of him. He dove in, eating like a starved man. While he ate, she kept her eye on the object slowly taking shape across the room. Like playing Wheel of Fortune, she needed more clues before guessing. After a few minutes, Ford slowed to a normal pace.

  “We’ve been looking at this all wrong, Becks.”

  “How do you mean?”

  He sipped from his wine glass then set it down. “We’ve been trying to figure out how to make a profit by selling products we already have.”

  “We can hardly make a profit selling things we don’t have,” she pointed out.

  “True enough. But I’m talking about new products. Something we can retool for at a minimum cost, and be ready to ship in less than two weeks’ time.”

  “What makes you think we can sell this mystery product and make a profit?”

  “Ah hah!” He stabbed his pointer finger toward the ceiling. “Not we.” He turned his index finger toward her. “You. You’re our new marketing director. You’re going to sell it. Leave the profit making to me.”

  The fine hair on the back of her neck stood up. If he’d been sure she would go along with this, he would have come right out and told her his idea instead of being so secretive. She glanced at the printer. The object remained unidentifiable. “What, exactly, do you think I’m going to sell?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “The first-ever, lock-in-place butt plug!”

  Her insides turned to ice while, inexplicably, heat infused her skin. She didn’t need a mirror to know her face had turned tomato red. Her gaze automatically went to the printer dripping plastic droplets onto an ever-growing pile. Could the item really be…? She had no idea. She’d read about their use in a few steamy romance novels, but she had no firsthand knowledge of the devices.

  “You can’t be serious.” Needing to steady her nerves before she went ballistic on her business partner, she reached for her wine, brought the cool glass to her lips, and drained it.

  “I’m dead serious, Becks. It won’t take much to retool one of the machines to make them. We’ll keep packaging to a minimum—a plastic bag with a cardboard header. We’ll earmark the first five hundred as free samples, which you’ll send out, worldwide, to wholesale adult toy distributors. I tell you, this will work. People will buy this product.”

  “Are you insane? First, this is Butte Plains. If we start making… those things”—she nodded toward the printer—“all our employees will quit. Second, I don’t know anything about the adult toy industry. I wouldn’t know where to start if—and that’s a very big if—I were to agree to your ridiculous plan and we could convince our people to produce the… things.”

  “First,” he mimicked her not-quite-business-like shrieking voice, “our employees will make what we tell them to make if they want to keep their jobs. If they quit, then what is the unemployment rate in Butte Plains? Ten? Fifteen percent? We’ll replace them. Second, you’re a smart woman. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Internet. It shouldn’t take you more than a few hours to acquaint yourself with the major adult toy wholesalers.”

  She barely heard what he said after he called her smart, but evidently, her subconscious had been listening. She caught up quickly. “Even if we could accomplish a miracle turnover, do people buy those things?”

  “The adult toy industry is huge, Becks.”

  “I wouldn’t know.” She forced her thoughts away from the cute pink vibrator she kept in her nightstand for those times when she needed release in order to remain sane. Ford might be right about sex selling, but she’d never in a million years let him in on how lonely she’d been since returning to Butte Plains. Some things a girl had to keep to herself.

  “Trust me, sex sells.”

  “Even if it does, what makes you think your… item will sell?”

  “Mine locks in place. It’s a huge improvement over anything on the market today.” He got up and crossed to where the printer put the finishing touches on his creation. “There will be some assembly required before packaging. I’ve already contacted Scott about the locking mechanisms. He designed one a couple of years ago for a project that never went anywhere. He’s willing to let us use it for a few pennies royalty on each unit sold. He’s sending me a case of them by special messenger to try out. They’ll be here tomorrow.”

  “Who’s Scott?”

  “My best friend and business partner. He’s an incredible designer in his own right. Luckiest day of my life was the day we were assigned as roommates at MIT.”

  “Oh.” Did Ronny know about Ford’s relationship with Scott? Maybe they had a three-way going on or something. Not my business.

  Becky gathered the dirty dishes and put them in the sink. Leaning back against the counter, she gazed at her insane business partner’s back. He had one thing right—they needed to do something different, but did they have to dive ass first into the adult toy manufacturing business? Turning, she rinsed the dishes and put everything into the dishwasher. When she spun back around, Ford stood in front of the table, his new creation in his hand.

  “It doesn’t look any different on the outside. The locking mechanism will be what separates it from the run-of-the-mill variety.” He flipped the item over, examining it from every angle.

  “I just don’t see it working, Ford.”

  “Have you ever used a butt plug?”

  Heat rose to her cheeks. “No. I’ve never even seen one.”

  “You through there?” He nodded toward the kitchen prep area.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  He set the plug on the counter. “Come on. It’s time for us to take a field trip.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked, sinking into the soft leather seats of his luxury rental car.

  “Don’t ask.”

  “I don’t like this, Ford.” She reached for the door handle.

  “Okay, okay.” Be
fore she could bolt from the car, he cranked the engine and drove down the driveway. “There’s an adult store out on the Interstate. I saw it when I drove in from the airport.”

  She knew the place—by sight only. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I wish you’d quit saying that. I’m dead serious, Becks. I appreciate what you and my dad were trying to do, but the fact is we need to change course, and fast. We’re headed straight for the iceberg. If we hit it, we’re all going down. You, me, my mother, all our employees.”

  He painted a grim picture, but, in truth, she’d seen the same one hanging on the wall. But there had to be another way.

  “If you’ve got a better idea, this is the time to speak up.”

  Damn him for being logical. “No. Sadly, I don’t have any idea at all, much less a better one.”

  “Then give me the benefit of the doubt here, Becks.” He pulled into the blessedly empty parking lot and cut the engine. “There are thousands of these stores across the country. They’re springing up in malls and respectable neighborhoods, too. Many are women-owned businesses. You should like that.”

  “Impressive.” Not.

  “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

  “No.”

  “Come on, Becks. Consider this your first class in Marketing to the Adult Toy Industry 101.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “What if someone sees us? What will they think?”

  “I hope you do see someone you know. It will help convince you normal people are buying this stuff. As for what they’ll think… well, I suspect they’d wish they could help you with whatever it is you’re buying tonight.”

  “I’m not buying anything.”

  “Just wait until you see what they have to offer. You might change your mind.”

  “I hate you.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do.” She reached for the door handle. “I’m going to go inside, but only so I can gather enough information to point out the errors in your plan.”

  Ford placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her through the aisles toward the back of the store where a flashing neon sign said Anal Play.

  “It’s okay to look around, Becks.”

  “I don’t want to look around.”

  “Sure you do. This is the kind of place you can’t not look around. It’s like an old-time carnival—filled with oddities you’re drawn to even though you know you shouldn’t be.”

  Damn. Why did he have to be right all the time? She’d already spotted several things she wouldn’t mind taking a closer look at, but Hell would freeze over before she’d admit being curious. “Let’s just do what we came to do and get out of here.”

  “Sure you don’t want to look around?”

  “Positive.”

  They stopped in front of a wall display covered with butt plugs of every size and color imaginable.

  “They’re identical to the one you just printed.” Except for that one. And that one.

  “Yes, they are.” At the sound of Ford’s voice, she tore her gaze away from the one with electrical wires attached. He took one down for closer examination.

  He held it up, end first. “See? Where this one is solid on the end, mine has a hole in it. The locking mechanism will go right there.”

  She scanned the wall. “None of these have locks?”

  “Nope. A design flaw I’m going to correct.”

  “Seems to me, if a lock was such a good idea, someone else would have come up with one. And, have you considered there could be a reason none of these have locks?”

  “Like what?” He took a large pink one down.

  “Like, it’s a bad idea, for reasons I can’t even begin to think of.”

  He turned his gaze to her and smiled. Something inside her flared to life. She took a step back. He has a boyfriend. He has a boyfriend. Maybe if she reminded herself enough times she’d believe it.

  “You’ve never tried to keep one of these things in, have you?”

  No. “Have you?” God, she did not want to go there, not with Ford.

  His smile turned to a smirk. “I plead the fifth. But I can see I need to convince you of the superiority of my product.” He reached for a shopping basket from the stack of them in the corner.

  “You’ll need something small at first.” He dropped a package containing a slim, pink plug in the basket.

  “Ford!”

  Two more, in successively larger sizes landed in the basket. “Look, Becky Jean, if you don’t believe the product is the best on the market, you won’t be able to convince the buyers to give it a try. This is Market Research 101—know the competition.”

  Damn. Why did he have to be right? Again. “I didn’t say I would market this thing.”

  “You will. Once you try it, you’ll see.” He tossed in two more styles then headed off down another aisle. Becky followed, cringing when he stopped at the section containing personal lubricants. She pretended not to read the labels while he searched the shelves. Eventually, he picked two different ones and added them to his shopping basket. “One more thing,” he said, moving off again.

  He stopped in front of a rack near the checkout counter. “Cleaner,” he said, tossing a large bottle with a pump-style lid into the basket. “Anything you want to look at while we’re here?”

  “Absolutely not,” she lied. She eyed an interesting display of vibrators nearby. While Ford paid, making small talk with the cashier, she pretended not to look at the various battery-operated boyfriends. She’d ordered hers years ago from an online retailer, but she wouldn’t mind having one of these new high-tech ones.

  “All set,” he said, coming up behind her and putting his hand on the same spot it had been before. Heat radiated off his palm to the small of her back. The gesture felt intimate, and so good she almost forgot to be mad at him.

  He ushered her to the car and opened the passenger door for her. She climbed into the seat, relieved to have gotten in and out of the store without being seen. As Ford went around the back of the car to get to the driver’s side, another car pulled into a parking space a few over on his side. Becky sank as low as possible and thanked the universe for poorly lit parking lots. To be on the safe side, she turned her face away and hid behind her hand.

  Hurry. Hurry. Hurry. The sooner they got out of there, the better.

  “Hey, Mr. Boggs. Nice to see you again.” Ford’s voice pierced the car door.

  Crap! Mr. Boggs had been the principal at the high school forever. Everyone in town knew him, and he knew everyone. Thank Heaven she’d made it to the car before he drove up!

  “Good to see you, too. How’s your mother doing?”

  “She’s holding up. Thanks for asking.”

  “Sad thing, your father going so young. We’re all praying for you, and your family, son.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Gotta hurry,” Mr. Boggs said. “It’s our anniversary this weekend. Gonna pick up something special.” His voice got closer as he approached Ford’s car parked directly in front of the entrance to the Adult Emporium.

  “How many years have you been married?”

  “Twenty years since Sharon said, ‘I do.’ Gotta keep things fresh, you know? Well, of course you know. You’re here, aren’t you?”

  “My regards to Mrs. Boggs, sir.”

  The driver’s side door opened. Ford slid into the seat and tossed the shopping bag into her lap. “Coast is clear. You can sit up.”

  “Did he see me? Do you think he knows?”

  “No, he didn’t see you, unless he has X-ray vision, and what, exactly, would he know?”

  Once they’d cleared the parking area, she sat up and fastened her seat belt. “Not funny,” she said, tossing the bag to the backseat.

  “Look, he didn’t see you, and he has no idea what I had in my bag.” He chuckled. “I bet Mrs. Boggs is going to have a mighty fine anniversary. Don’t you?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “You do realize the
y have sex, don’t you? They have three kids. Or is it four?”

  “Five.”

  “You don’t say? How old is the youngest?”

  “Two.”

  Ford’s laughter filled the car.

  No longer in danger of being discovered, she could see humor in the situation. “Okay, so they’ve had sex.”

  “At least five times in twenty years,” Ford added, helpfully.

  “Okay. You win. People have sex, and some of them buy… toys. But I’m still not convinced this thing of yours will sell.”

  “You’ll sell it, Becks.” He parked at the curb in front of her house and reached in the backseat. He plunked the heavy shopping bag into her lap. “Try the smallest one first. See how long you can keep it in doing normal stuff.”

  Nothing she could say would sway him, so she changed the subject. “My car is at your place.”

  “I’ll pick you up in the morning. No use both of us taking our cars to work since we live so close.”

  He had a point. Besides, as long as he paid for the gas, why should she argue? She opened the door and prepared to step out. “What time?”

  “Seven thirty okay? We can pick up breakfast at Hanson’s and you can fill me in on how your market research is going.”

  “I’m not going to try these.” She clutched the bag in her hand as she got out. “See you in the morning.”

  Before the door closed, Ford said, “Lube, Becks. Lots of lube!”

  ~~~

  If he’d ever thought about what Alice must have looked like when she hit the bottom of the rabbit hole, he now knew. The expression on Becky Jean’s face when she stepped inside the Adult Emporium had been comical. She appeared ready to turn and try to claw her way back out. Only his hand on the small of her back kept her from doing so.

  Oh, and her expression following his conversation with Mr. Boggs? Priceless. Becky Jean riled so easily, and damn, if pushing her buttons hadn’t been the most fun he’d had in years.