Although Drew had to give their new CEO credit. The man was barely out of business school and had to deal with the fallout of his father and his father’s business partners going to prison for embezzlement. Drew hadn’t been sorry at all to hear of the conviction. Hell, he’d celebrated with Blake once the verdict was announced.
Drew took the elevator to the garage, forcing thoughts of T&G Securities out of his head. Tapping his fingers against his thigh, he waited impatiently for the doors to open.
“Shall I ring for your driver?” Brian, his head of security, asked him as the elevator opened.
“Not this time. Thanks.”
Drew preferred to drive himself to King’s instead of using the car service that was available twenty-four seven. He wasn’t ashamed of the money his father had made, nor was he ashamed of all the hard work he’d put in to make even more money, but there was something to be said for driving your own damn car.
A sleek Mercedes-Maybach waited for him in the far end. He loved the car, loved the understated lines and elegance. He also loved the fact that only five models of this particular limited-edition line had ever been built.
Loosening his tie, he slid inside and started up the car. Traffic was unusually light as he drove through the streets of downtown Charlotte. It took him no time at all to reach the bar and hand the keys to the valet.
Once inside, he was greeted by the hostess and led upstairs to a private room that was always available for his use—day or night.
It wasn’t just Drew’s money that afforded him the best at this infamous, upscale bar. It was the fact that his cousin, Chase Montgomery, owned it.
A few years older than Drew, Chase was fast on his way to becoming a racing legend, and his younger brothers, Beau and Walker, were on the same path. They were all following in their father’s footsteps. Remington and William Montgomery were brothers, born barely fifteen months apart. Both were driven, determined to succeed, and had become more than backwater trailer park trash.
Or at least, that was how Uncle Remington liked to tell it at Thanksgiving.
Well, that and something about their Scottish ancestors kicking ass and taking names with the English invaders. Then again, Remington was usually drunk at their get-togethers.
“Courtney will be up in just a minute with your usual, Mr. Montgomery,” the hostess said. “Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?”
He glanced at her hopeful face. She was pretty and had a very nice body, but she was too young—twenty-one at the oldest. Almost thirty himself, he preferred women over twenty-five. “Thank you, but no.”
Her smile faltered a bit, but she nodded politely and left the room.
“Important news?” Blake York said in his smooth British accent that women seemed to fall all over themselves to hear. His business partner shut the door behind him and joined Drew at the privacy glass overlooking the dance floor.
Early in the evening, it wasn’t crowded yet. The music was subdued at this time as well, the DJ playing current chart toppers instead of house music.
“You could say that.”
The door opened.
He glanced over his shoulder to see their server for the evening—a brunette wearing a snakeskin bustier and black shorts that left very little to the imagination walked inside. Her hands trembled as she set the bucket of ice and bottle of Mouton-Rothschild inside. The wine glasses clinked against one another.
“Dang it,” she muttered.
“We won’t bite,” he said, and she jumped.
Light green eyes wide with terror met his, and he felt nothing but pity for her. She was new, nervous, and had no idea what to expect from two men in a private room.
“You’re Courtney, right?” he asked, stepping close to her.
She nodded. “I—Is there anything else I can do for you and Mr. Blake? I mean, York. Mr. Montgomeryork.” She winced. “Sorry. Mr. Montgomery and Mr. York.”
Damn it to hell. He wasn’t helping things at all. He was making it worse.
Blake, ever the charmer, strolled up to the girl. “First time, love?”
“Yes,” she practically whispered and tugged on her top. “But I’ve been trained, so you don’t have to worry.”
Yeah, Drew would bet she’d been trained. Charlotte, for all the wealth that the city’s residents had, was still a college town at heart, and King’s employed a lot of college coeds. College coeds that were required to mingle with people who possessed a hell of a lot more privilege and power than they did.
He would have a talk with his cousin, and he hoped to God that Chase didn’t have a clue as to what was going on. Which was most likely the case, since Chase had a project manager oversee the day-to-day operations of the club.
A damn shame all around because King’s was a favorite place of his to frequent.
“I’m not,” he said. “All that Andrew and I require for the evening are drinks. That’s all. Do a fantastic job and we’ll request you again. But only for drinks, yeah?”
A relieved rush of breath left her. “Okay. I can do that. If you want any appetizers, I can get that for y’all too.”
“Lovely. Thank you, Courtney,” Blake said, and Drew bit back a laugh at the dreamy look that suddenly appeared in her eyes. Oh yeah, another one fell for the bastard—hook, line, and sinker. “Be a dear and close the door when you go.”
“Jesus, Drew. Next time, why don’t you terrify the girl a bit more?” Blake said as he turned to face him.
“Not everyone can be as charming as you,” Drew said with a smirk.
Blake gave him a look. “Fuck you, Montgomery.”
Drew held up his hands, completely enjoying this rare torture of his buddy. Usually, Blake had all the quips and comebacks. “That doesn’t sound very princely. Is royalty allowed to use such crude language?”
“I’m not royalty,” Blake grumbled. “So bugger off.”
“Can’t. Need your help.”
Blake’s blue eyes widened slightly. “Really?”
Drew pulled out his phone and emailed Blake the file that had set everything into motion. “Check your inbox.”
Blake glanced at his screen and after a moment, he started chuckling. A few minutes later, his chuckle turned into a full-fledged laugh. “William’s quite serious?”
“Oh no. I shared that with you because my dad is full of shits and giggles.”
“Right, then.” Blake pocketed his phone, poured two glass of wine, and then handed one to Drew. “Here’s to your upcoming nuptials.”
Drew almost threw the contents of the glass in Blake’s face to wipe off that ridiculous smirk. “That’s all you got?”
“Afraid so.” Blake tipped back his glass. “Cheers.”
“You’re kidding. This cannot be the same man who stared down Romanov when that asshole refused to budge on—”
“Romanov was willing. Sebastian only needed to see that I was willing to walk away,” Blake said smoothly. “William Montgomery is not a man I care to go up against.”
“Which is why you partnered with him.”
Blake smiled into his glass. “And you. Never forget that I am the best decision MI ever made.”
“How can I?” At first, Drew had hated Blake York on sight with his smooth ways and pretentious manners. Until Drew discovered that all those smooth ways paved the way for multi-million dollar deals. York could talk a man out of his last penny and be thanked for it.
As for Blake’s pretentious manner—it wasn’t an act. He was genuinely that courteous to everyone. Blake was also loyal to a fault and couldn’t be persuaded to go to T&G Securities—no matter how hard or underhanded they courted him. He had forwarded every email, every text message, and voice mail to human resources so they could learn what their competitor was up to when it came to hiring practices.
In Drew’s book, that made Blake York more invaluable than the multi-million dollar deals he negotiated. And once Drew learned he could count on Blake to put Montgomery Industry’s in
terests above his own, he never questioned his father’s decision to hire the man again.
“What will you do?” Blake asked as he sat down.
“What can I do?”
Blake canted his head from side to side. “Narrow down the best possible candidates and let me choose your bride-to-be.”
“Only if I can pick yours,” Drew said.
“Mine’s a very short list. Have at it.”
“How short?”
“One name.”
“That’s not a list.”
Blake smiled and tipped his glass slightly, as if in a parody of a toast. “It’s a declaration of my intention.”
“You already know the woman you want to marry?” Drew asked, astonished. As far as he knew, Blake wasn’t seriously involved with anyone. “Have I met her? Who does she work for?”
“Yes.”
“Just yes? That tells me nothing.”
“I’m afraid we’ve been derailed. Let’s focus on you, shall we?” Blake set his empty glass down and steepled his hands together. “Who are your top three?”
This was why the man was so good. He made his opponent want to give up. “I haven’t—”
“You have. I know how that devious mind of yours works. During your meeting with William, you already thought of ten women and discarded half.” Blake tilted his head to one side. “I’m only asking for the top three.”
“Alexis George.”
Blake scrunched his nose. “Really? You actually have that woman in your top three?”
“She’s beautiful, sophisticated, and—”
“Would make your life miserable. Again,” Blake finished. “Next.”
“Never dated her, but we’re on friendly terms. Plus, she doesn’t need my money. So, Kate Von—”
Blake was already shaking his head before Drew could finish saying the woman’s name. “To merge your two families would cause massive complications.”
“Can’t have that.” Drew took a breath. “There’s always—”
“No more exes,” Blake said flatly. “They’re an ex for a reason. Let’s keep it that way.”
“Look. You asked for my top three. I’m giving them to you.”
Blake raised a brow. “I want your number one, Andrew. The one above all others. The one who you can’t help but remember when times are tough. Or when you’re feeling particularly sentimental.”
Drew shook his head. “There’s no one.” Yet, there was one woman. Or, rather, a girl. Tiny little thing. With big, gray eyes that dominated her face. He smiled.
“Ah-ha! Who is she?”
“I haven’t spoken to her in years. A decade at least.”
“Then she doesn’t know what an insufferable bore you’ve become. Brilliant.” Blake pulled out his phone. “Let’s text her.”
“I don’t have Hannah’s number.”
A wicked gleam entered Blake’s blue eyes. “Hannah, eh?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Why not? Are you serious?” Drew shook his head, his lips twisting slightly. “What am I supposed to say? Hey, Hannah. It’s me, Drew. I don’t know you if you remember me, but I think it would be swell if we were to marry.”
“That’s the most beautiful proposal I’ve ever heard.” Blake mimed wiping away tears. “Perfectly lovely.”
“I thought you were supposed to help me.”
Blake stretched his arms along the back of the leather sofa. “I am. We know who the woman you should marry is. All you have to do now is figure out how to get her to agree.”
“I have forty-eight… no, forty-seven hours to make it happen.” Could he make that happen? He’d thought of Hannah more times than he cared to admit over the years. And more times than he really cared to admit, he’d checked up on her. Nothing too personal… just a little social media investigation to find out who she was dating, who she was friendly with, and where she worked.
He never went beyond that, and he respected the parts of her life that she didn’t share on the Internet.
But he had wanted to. He had wanted to so badly that he would force himself to go months without clicking on her Facebook profile.
A large part of him wanted to keep her enshrined in his memory, tucked away for safekeeping. This perfect, summertime girl he’d grown up with had, for lack of a better word, enchanted him. She’d never treated him any differently because of his family’s money. Best of all, she had always looked at him with stars in her eyes, even when she’d called him out for being an asshole.
He’d coveted those stars, but he had the sense and willpower enough not to take them. Somehow, at nineteen, he knew if he were the one responsible for those eyes to dull that he would never be able to forgive himself.
People like Hannah Miller hadn’t exist in his world then. Hell, they rarely existed in his world now. For all he knew, Hannah might not be that girl anymore. She probably didn’t ever remember him, anyway.
And even if she did, would she recognize him now? Would she want to spend time with Andrew Montgomery… or the boy he used to be? Or would she only see dollar signs?
Guilt pricked at him for even letting that thought take shape in his brain. It would never work. He wouldn’t give it a chance to work. Hannah didn’t need his baggage or the temporary marriage he could offer her. Besides, what woman in her right mind would marry a virtual stranger?
“Let’s look her up, shall we? Perhaps she has some debt, student loans, medical bills, or a penchant for gambling. I’ll send a text to—”
“There’s no need.”
“There is every need,” Blake disagreed. “I’ve already sent the text.”
“Send another one to cancel the first.”
“Ah, a response already.” A frown pulled Blake’s mouth down at the corners. “Damn. There’s nothing you could offer her—outside of a pure money exchange. You’re not above that, are you?”
“How in the hell did you get Hannah’s information? I didn’t give you a last name.”
A cocky smile kicked up the corners of Blake’s mouth. “We archive the search history of every computer in use at MI, including yours.”
Shit. “Fine. But I refuse to—”
Blake leaned forward. “I’m going to be extremely honest with you, Andrew. You have to make a decision, and you have to make one now. The forty-eight hours William gave you… it started yesterday when he sent the email.”
“Fuck.” Drew scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’ll call Alexis. She’ll understand.”
“Five years of Alexis George. Think about that. Five. Years. She won’t agree to a prenup without millions of incentives.”
“Money isn’t a problem. But time is,” Drew grudgingly admitted. “Five months of dating her was more than enough for me.” The woman was clingy and self-absorbed. In fact, she’d barely changed since they were teenagers.
“Hannah Miller is your only option. Too bad she’ll most likely send you on your way. As any woman in her right mind would.”
“Are you on my side or not?” Drew grumbled.
Blake ran a hand through his hair. “I’m the voice of reason. Without proper incentive, your Hannah will never say yes, and thousands will lose their jobs. I’ll be forced to return home and become a proper gentleman once more.” He let out a shuddering breath. “Think of the children, Andrew. All the children I’d be forced to produce in order to have an heir and a spare.”
“Shut up.”
Blake smirked for a moment, but then turned serious. “I might have exaggerated my part, but the rest…”
Blake was right. Thousands were depending on him. He knew that. He hated it, but his feelings wouldn’t make the end result go away. Either he married and saved thousands of jobs, or he refused to be manipulated by his dad and thousands would lose their jobs.
Slowly, Drew pulled out his wallet and opened it. He gingerly pulled out a yellow piece of paper, shaking it at Blake. “She’ll say yes. I have it in writing.”
Chapter Four<
br />
‡
Standing to one side in the lobby, Hannah watched as the last family staying at The Majestic Dunes loaded everything they brought into their minivan and drove away.
This time of year was usually bittersweet for her. Come tomorrow, the staff would begin the process of winterizing the resort. Linens would be packed tight, water lines drained, the pool half drained, and the walk-in freezers emptied—the perishable items given to local soup kitchens to stock up their freezers.
By the time all was said and done, The Majestic Dunes would look like a ghost resort. It didn’t help that the resort was still decorated in a style of a bygone era with dark wood accents and elegant chandeliers. Sometimes, on the days she would travel with her grandparents to check on the resort, she could swear that Big Band music played and glasses lightly clinked together in toast as soon as they stepped inside the great foyer.
Then again, her grandparents had always claimed she had a huge imagination. Completely their fault of course, since they’d been the ones to fill her head full of coastal North Carolina legends and ghost stories.
“Staff meeting in twenty minutes,” Allen called out.
With a frown, Hannah turned around. “I don’t remember a staff meeting scheduled.”
Allen shrugged. “It’s a last-minute thing. The new owner wants to meet everyone.”
Hannah nodded. “I’ll be there.” She was very curious about the new owner, a man who had bought the place last night. Like at the midnight hour. Something virtually unheard of, or so the rumor said.
She didn’t put much stock in rumors. For all she knew, there could have been negotiations going on for months. In any case, as long as her grandparents’ jobs weren’t threatened (or anyone else’s) and they could retire next year, then she didn’t care who bought the resort.
Smoothing down her dove-gray uniform, she headed to the café to grab a sandwich before the meeting. Up since the crack of dawn to get an earlier start on winterizing the empty guest rooms, she’d scarfed down some breakfast and had only a quick snack at lunch.
Seducing the Billionaire's Wife Page 3