Billionaires Hook Up - A Standalone Novel (A Billionaire Office Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #8)

by Claire Adams

  Berger adjusted his suit coat with a not-so-modest shrug. "I am one of the top junior executives."

  Barbie laughed. "And my sister is going to be your boss someday soon. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have family business to discuss."

  Berger could not believe he was being dismissed. He opened his mouth but realized the reason he'd stopped in, most likely to brag about his yacht party, wouldn't hold up against Barbie's edict. He slunk out the door, and Barbie rolled her eyes.

  "You know, he makes your annual salary in two months," I told my sister.

  She yawned and scratched her extended stomach. "Impressive. You know what's better? Your darling brother-in-law is mastering the art of the lasagna so we won't starve through the sleepless newborn phase."

  I laughed. "Now, that is impressive."

  It was impossible not to feel a twist of jealousy when I looked at my older sister. She was so at ease, despite how far along she was, and so content with her life. Nothing could shake her belief that she had the best life could offer: a comfortable home, a loving partner, and an expanding family. I had to admit that I was jealous. Where I was always looking for the next thing, Barbie was simply enjoying where she was.

  "Do you think I'll ever be as content as you?" I asked my sister.

  Barbie patted her baby bump. "Not if you keep blowing off dates. Now, are you going to tell me what happened or not?"

  I stood up. "You know, I'm actually really busy. I have to make a big pitch to Stan today."

  Barbie heaved herself out of the chair. "All right, I get it. You'll tell me over dinner this week. Remember, lasagna."

  I walked her out of my office and to the elevator. While we waited, my big sister was nice enough to talk about innocuous things like what was blooming in her garden, but it all just made me think of Rainer anyway. As the elevator doors slid open, I felt my equilibrium spin.

  Rainer stepped out and held the doors open for my sister. "Beautiful as always, Ms. Barbie," he said.

  My sister patted his cheek. "Handsome and charming. No wonder I keep seeing your picture everywhere."

  Barbie was about to wave goodbye to me, but I panicked and jumped onto the elevator with her. Rainer raised an eyebrow but the doors closed. We rode down two floors alone before my sister cleared her throat.

  "I'm going to guess that he was part of the reason your date with Seth fizzled," Barbie said.

  "Lasagna. Can't wait," I said.

  Barbie laughed and hugged me as the elevator opened on the lobby floor. "Love you, Tasha," she said.

  I waved goodbye as she headed across the lobby and then pressed the top floor button. I paced the small square of the elevator and tried to come up with a plan. Then I stopped. I was being ridiculous. I was going to have to face Rainer sooner rather than later. So, I punched the button for our floor and tried not to panic.

  When the doors slid open to reveal a knot of junior executives, my throat closed up in a panic. I nodded to them and stepped out of the elevator.

  "Hey, let me know what you're working on," one said. "I'm available if you need any help."

  His buddies shoved him onto the elevator, telling him he was lazy and needed to find his own successful project. I smiled back at them as I set off down the hall. Luckily, none of them noticed I was heading towards Rainer's office instead of my own.

  "Tasha, there you are," Stan said. He blocked my way to Rainer's side of the floor and steered me back towards the elevators. "We've got a meeting. Let's go to my office, shall we?"

  "I'll be right there. I just need to, ah, grab my things," I said. I saw Rainer stepping out of his office and felt like I needed to face him now or never. "Go ahead without me."

  "No, thanks." Stan pulled me into the executive elevator that only opened on our floor and the penthouse. "Did I ever tell you about the time I got stuck in an elevator? I was on the way to meet my wife, my first wife, and I got stuck for five hours. By the time I got out, she'd met someone in the lobby, gotten a better offer, and had gone off to dinner. That dinner turned into a new career for her and a nasty divorce for me."

  "And you didn't just press the 'stop' button?" I asked.

  Stan chuckled. "In hindsight, it was lucky that elevator got stuck. I wasn't strong enough to do it myself. Sometimes we know when a relationship just isn't right, but we don't have the fortitude to walk away."

  I crossed my arms. "Is this work advice?"

  "Let's just call it good advice," Stan said.

  The elevator doors slid open and the elegance of the executive floor struck me as it always did. The walls were a dark marble with copper seams. Wooden pillars stood sentinel at the corners. My heels sunk into the plush Berber carpet as I followed Stan to his office. He pushed open the double doors and stepped into the sun-filled room.

  I paused while Stan rounded his desk and sat down. It was a bad habit, one my mentor encouraged, but every time I stepped into his office, I thought about what it would be like when it was mine. More chairs around the square coffee table for longer meetings. A larger table, maybe even round, to replace Stan's glass conference table. Brighter curtains, light touches of color, and a trio of artwork. My mind spun out as I realized I could finally afford real, collectible art.

  "Before you pick out throw pillows, there's something I have to tell you." Stan rocked back and forth in his leather desk chair.

  "The way you said that makes me think I want to be standing for this news," I said.

  Stan nodded. "You've never struck me as a fainter, so here goes: we're selling Hyperion."

  Instead of swaying against the impact of that overwhelming news, I broke into a furious pace. I rounded the glass conference table and glanced at Stan. He watched me approach, hands steepled but reclining at ease in his leather chair.

  "The entire company?" I asked.

  "Sold," Stan said.

  "No merger? No rebranding? Just sold?" I took another lap around the conference table, but the nervous energy was overtaking me.

  "Now settle down, Tasha. I changed my mind; you need to sit down," Stan said. He sat up and waved me into one of the chairs that faced his desk. "This isn't necessarily bad news."

  A bubble of laughter slipped past my shock. "Not bad news? How is watching this company get dismantled not bad news?" I asked.

  Stan sighed. "Most people would think about the money we'll make from the deal. All shareholders are going to get a nice dividend."

  I scowled at my boss and mentor. "Most people don't love their jobs."

  "No, Tasha. You're wrong. You don't love this job; you love working." Stan leaned forward. "And I know for a fact you will not be out of work. Unless you want to take some time. Might be nice to be at home and enjoy your new niece or nephew when they arrive."

  I gripped the armrest of my chair and let that foreign idea sweep over me. My condo was in desperate need of a deep cleaning and reorganizing. It could be a chance to dump everything and start fresh. I could completely redo the landscaping and maybe even try my hand at a container herb garden. And, Stan was right, I could be more help to my sister and her new baby.

  It all sounded so domestic and peaceful.

  I shook my head. "I love working."

  Stan leaned back in his leather chair and laughed. "I could have put money down that you would answer that way. That's why I told my new business partners that I wanted a place for you in the new venture. Lucky for both of us, your reputation precedes you, and they are very excited to discuss the possibilities."

  I held up both hands. "Who are they? What new venture? And what possibilities?"

  Stan stood up. "I'm talking about a new integrated communications business where you can shape your own position. Pick your title, name your salary, and get to work."

  I stood up and skirted around my chair to hang on to the back as I faced Stan. "Integrated communications?"

  "I know, I know, you'll want to see all the details and crunch all the numbers." He tossed a heavy packet onto my chair. "I'm only
slightly insulted that you don't trust me."

  "It's not that." I felt the tension release my shoulders. "I do trust you. This is just a lot to take in. I came in here with a great idea for the community gardens, and now this."

  Stan frowned. "You're still on the GroGreen campaign? Tasha, that was just public relations, and now it's over. The application is selling well, and we are on to bigger and better things."

  I let go of the chair and put my hands on my hips. "Why are you so adamant that I leave the GroGreen project behind? Normally, we review projects for months. Is there something else you want to say?"

  "I just want you to stay focused on what's best for your career," Stan said.

  "And what if I've decided I liked the hands-on, community outreach aspects of the campaign? What if the new position I want is on the front lines?" I asked.

  Stan sat back down in his chair and gave me a stern look. "Then I would have to point out how those positions need to deal with social media and public relations much more than your current job. You'd have to get used to the spotlight, cultivate it, seek it out."

  I sat down before Stan could see me cringing. "Seek it out?"

  "There's no product, no sale if there isn't buzz. And, yes, marketing and advertising take care of a lot. But, with big companies like Hyperion, we need to create an image. Our executives are the face of the company to investors and media alike nowadays. Though, if you like the hands-on stuff, you won't mind hosting the charity events instead of just sending them money." Stan drummed his fingers on his desk while he watched me take that all in.

  "Isn't that why we hire people like Rainer Maxwell?" I asked.

  Stan smacked his hands down on the desk. "Exactly. But he won't be around to take the heat of the spotlight for you anymore. You'll have to do it yourself."

  I mumbled. "Not exactly my strength."

  "I would have thought this would be a relief for you, Tasha. Why stress about that when you can create a management position for yourself? Play to your strengths and create your own position."

  "You sold the company. What's going to happen to everyone else? All the other junior executives? My teams?" I raised a shaky hand to my forehead. "All my team members are going to be out of jobs?"

  Stan came around and leaned against his desk in front of me. "You can bring your entire team with. There's still time to hash out all those details. And don't you think you've made the other junior executives enough of a nest egg that they can try to fly the nest on their own?"

  "What if I wanted some of them to come with us?" I asked.

  Stan crossed his arms over his chest. "Some or one in particular?"

  I met his glare. "You said yourself that Rainer has a talent for dealing with the spotlight."

  "You don't need him, Tasha."

  "He's amazing on the front lines, cultivating the spotlight, all those things you said. Why wouldn't you want him to join your new venture?" I asked.

  Stan threw his arms up in the air and stomped back around his desk. He scratched his stubbled chin and glared down at me. "You know this isn't a productive conversation. Where has your focus gone?"

  I stood up. "Focus? You're the one that knocked me sideways with this news."

  "And your first concern was Rainer," Stan muttered.

  I popped my mouth shut and sat down. Stan was my mentor because not only did he have the near-legendary business acumen, but he could read people. Normally, it was a skill that cleared away all the obstacles and made for easy negotiations. Now, it just felt as if he could see through me, things that I didn't even want to admit to myself.

  "How can you not realize that Rainer Maxwell will be fine? He'll always be fine. His family is obsessed with money and legacy, so while they push him, they won't let him fail. Besides, he has the crown jewel of society just waiting to marry him. He'll be a made man then and can do whatever he wants in any corner of the world." Stan sat down across from me. "I pay attention to the gossip, and Ellison Ramsey will give him everything he and his family has always wanted."

  The news of the company sale started to set in. That was the only reason my hands wouldn't stop trembling and chest hurt. My vision blurred and I told myself I just needed a minute to grasp the career change ahead of me. I was fine. Stan had already offered me a new job leagues better than being a junior executive. I had no reason to be upset.

  "Shouldn't we celebrate with a drink?" I asked.

  Stan flinched at the wobbly tone of my voice and jumped up. He poured us two short whiskeys and handed me one. "Now, is there something you want to tell me?" he asked.

  "I want more vacation time?"

  "Tasha, you don't have to pretend with me. What kind of mentor would forget to help his protege deal with the other aspects of life? There's more going on here than business."

  His phone buzzed, and I took the opportunity to retreat to the corner window. Stan was right. There was more going on than business, but it was all tangled up together in my head. The fact that Hyperion had been sold meant that I would not see many of my colleagues except in social settings. That meant I would always see Rainer with Ellison.

  I would never get to argue over the best dim sum with him, or laugh over our competitors’ unfortunate spelling mistakes. The only moments I would have with Rainer now would be with his lovely fiancée on his arm, and that thought hurt.

  "Tasha, I'm sorry, I have to take this," Stan said. "Just remember, it's all for the best."

  I knocked back the rest of my drink and wondered why the best felt like the absolute worst.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Rainer

  Tasha's eyes met mine down the office hallway, and I felt a jolt through my entire body. She looked as if she had something to say, something that couldn't wait, something that might touch on the lava flow I felt when her eyes were on me. Then Stan bustled her off to the executive elevator and my stomach dropped to the floor.

  What if our yacht liaison had been found out?

  It wasn't much a stretch to think someone at Berger's party had found the entertainment boring and the gossip much more interesting. We could have been spotted heading down that narrow hallway. Or maybe the bartenders had heard us over the thumping of the music.

  Stan had frowned in my direction, and I felt sure he was advising Tasha against me. Probably good advice, but it put me on edge. There was already so much between us that caused problems: her career focus, my lack of proper ambition, my last-minute attachment to her billion-dollar project, not to mention our passionate run-ins or my intruding ex-girlfriend. The last thing I needed was our boss and mentor telling Tasha exactly why she should stay far, far away from me.

  I was so busy searching for counter-arguments that it took a moment to see the steady stream of junior executives heading for the elevator. By the time I unstuck myself from the doorway of my office, the elevator doors had shut. Seemed like everyone was heading upstairs to the executive floor. I turned to the stairwell and took the steps two at a time. It still didn't burn off my agitation.

  What was Tasha talking to Stan about? Would she listen if he told her to leave me behind and never think of me again?

  On the penthouse floor, I found the rest of the junior executives skulking around the conference room across from Stan's office.

  "There you are, glad you could join the party," one of the junior executives said.

  Berger slapped me on the shoulder. "Hopefully, he's more fun than he was on the yacht. Man, you were so serious. And here we all thought you had so much to celebrate."

  I clenched my jaw and hoped he didn't bring up Ellison. No matter how much I protested, people still wanted to believe that we were going to get married.

  "Maybe it's a side effect of working with Tasha too long. He's been iced!" Berger laughed at his own joke, and the rest of the junior executives joined him.

  "You boys just hanging out in here to gossip or what?" I asked.

  A few men shook their heads, but Berger answered for them. "There are
rumors of rumors floating around, and we're waiting to find out what's real and what's not."

  "What kind of rumors?" My neck felt stiff and my shoulders rock hard.

  "Some kind of merger or deal that has to do with the whole company," Berger said.

  My shoulders loosened one notch. It wasn't about Tasha and I. "There are always rumors like that. Comes with the territory when you work for a successful company," I said.

  "But, when your company just made billions of dollars, the rumors start getting real. I mean, I can count on both hands the number of companies just dying to buy us or become part of our branding," Berger said.

  I stared at Stan's office door and hoped that was what he was discussing with Tasha. As I wished I could bore through the thick double doors, a wave of beeps and chimes swept through the conference room.

  An official message was received by every employee notifying us that Hyperion had been sold to a major local conglomerate. As I read between the lines, I got the uncomfortable feeling that I knew who headed up the sale: Ellison's father. The new owner was not named, but there were too many hints to ignore.

  A burst of chatter erupted in the conference room, and I was glad for the din to drown out my suspicions. It let me feel a wild sense of freedom. Hyperion was sold, most employees would be let go, and I was done. I had made my billions, thanks to Tasha, and now I could be free. My family couldn't argue that I'd quit and my fat bank account meant that I didn't have to play their competitive games anymore.

  I'd won, and the game was over.

  There was anger, worry, and celebrations going on all around me, so I squeezed out of the conference room and ran right into Otto. The head of security stationed himself a subtle distance from Stan's office but was obviously there to check the long line of employees who would have questions.

  "Looking at a busy day, huh?" I asked Otto.

  He smiled and hooked his thumbs in his utility belt. "Maybe I'm just waiting to see our girl."

  I felt a twist in my chest. "Wanna lay some bets on what they're talking about?" I asked.

  Otto chuckled. "Son, I can tell when someone is trying to get gossip out of me."