by Talia Hunter
What was wrong with her? The man was so not her type. He was clean cut and clean shaven, his black hair tidy in a respectable short-back-and-sides style. Judging by the flawless way it hugged his impressive physique, his suit was expensive, but far too conservative. And his plain tie was just as safe and boring. Not a peep of a tattoo, or even an ear piercing. Yeah, her body had made an understandable mistake.
The MC looked a little flustered at the unmistakably hostile reaction from the front tables, only muted by the polite atmosphere of the evening. “Of course, Damien is no stranger to controversy. The lucky winner of this auction can be assured, lunch with him is guaranteed to be anything but dull.”
More murmuring. What could the conservative-looking businessman have done to upset so many people?
The MC rushed on with his introduction. “There’s no denying Damien has a killer instinct for making a profit, and I hear he’s running for a seat on Sydney’s council this year. I’ve been told he wants to clean up King’s Cross.” Someone in the audience booed. The MC darted a sideways glance at Damien and cleared his throat nervously. “Of course Damien is Sydney’s most eligible billionaire bachelor. And yes, ladies, I did say billionaire.”
Geena gritted her teeth at that patronizing comment.
“You may not know that Damien made his billions by buying up struggling businesses and making them profitable. From manufacturers and distributers, to retailers, to corporate services, Damien’s given them all the Midas Touch. Turned junk into treasure, so to speak.”
Geena froze. He’d made all that money by rescuing businesses that had run into trouble? That was exactly what she needed. Fresh ideas, and a chance to change everything. Ally had got her confidence back by spending time with Max. Perhaps this could be Geena’s chance to bail herself out, and improve her business skills so she never got herself into this kind of mess again.
“So let’s start the bidding.”
A woman with platinum-white hair raised her hand. “Eight hundred dollars.”
“One thousand,” came at once from the other side of the room. Seemed that whatever he’d done, the businessman was still in demand as a lunch date.
Geena gulped. She didn’t want lunch. But once she had his attention, perhaps she could interest Damien McCarthy in a different kind of deal. A crazy idea was forming in her mind. Crap, was she insane? No, she was desperate. If she did nothing, she’d go bankrupt. This was better than doing nothing. She sat frozen, her stomach churning and her heart pounding as the bidding rose to five thousand dollars. The MC called for any more bids, and the white-haired woman looked around to see if anyone was going to better her last offer.
“Going once,” said the MC.
Geena stuck up one trembling hand. “Five thousand… and ten dollars.”
The white-haired woman laughed. “Five thousand, five hundred dollars,” she called.
Damn. Geena swallowed, trying not to imagine the balance in her bank account shrinking fast - all the money she should be putting towards her overdue taxes. “Five thousand, six hundred dollars.” She stared hard at the woman, trying to transmit with her eyes how important this was, and how much she needed to win Damien McCarthy’s business expertise. Maybe her desperation showed, because the woman gave her a small nod to indicate she was out of the race.
The MC grinned and pointed his gavel at Geena. The spotlight swung over to focus on her, and she blinked in the sudden bright light.
“Sold, for five thousand, six hundred dollars to the woman with pink hair sitting at the bar,” announced the MC.
Geena closed her eyes, her head swimming. What the hell had she just done? She’d done some crazy, impulsive things in her life, but never anything as bad as this. This wasn’t even remotely close to skinny dipping in a public fountain, or painting her body green for St Patrick’s Day. This was most of her money gone in a split second of total insanity. And she still had to convince Damien McCarthy that her idea was a good one, or she’d just thrown it away for nothing.
She turned to the bartender who gave her a nod. “Well done,” he said.
She had to clear her throat twice to make any sound come out. “I think I might have that drink now please,” she croaked.
Want to read more? Please sign up to my newsletter at http://www.taliahunter.com and you’ll be the first to know when How To Boss A Billionaire is available.
About the Author
Talia Hunter likes writing about smart, funny women, and the men who set their hearts on fire. Her motto is, If you aren’t laughing, you aren’t doing it right.
A formerly committed city dweller, she’s recently moved to the country. She’s put in a veggie garden, learned how to make bread, and is now the proud owner of a pair of gum boots. These days she spends time Googling important questions such as how to cope with a runaway zucchini crop (make fritters), and narrowing down exactly what kind of giant hairy spider might be eyeballing her from the washing tub.
To learn more about Talia Hunter, visit www. taliahunter.com or connect with her on social media.
Facebook: http://facebook.com/taliahunter
Twitter: @taliasromance
Goodreads: http://goodreads.com/taliahunter