by C. D. Samuda
The
Scent
of
You
C.D. SAMUDA
THE SCENT OF YOU
Saving the Billionaire – Book 1
Published by Yorkside Press
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2018 by C.D. SAMUDA
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, by mimeograph or any other means, without the expressed permission of the author or publisher.
ISBN: 978-976-96059-7-8 (eBook)
ISBN: 978-976-96059-6-1 (Print)
For information contact:
Yorkside Press
York Hill District, Seaforth P.O., St. Thomas, Jamaica W.I.
www.yorksidepress.com
[email protected]
Author contact:
www.caroleesamuda.com
[email protected]
https://facebook.com/CDSAMUDA
Contents
~Prologue~
~1~
~2~
~3~
~4~
~5~
~6~
~7~
~8~
~9~
~10~
~11~
~12~
~13~
~14~
~15~
~16~
~17~
~18~
~19~
~20~
~21~
~22~
~23~
FREEBIE OFFER!
Connect :
Titles by C.D. Samuda
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Author’s Note
Cliffhanger warning!
Saving the Billionaire is a continuing series comprised of three books – a trilogy. Please be advised that books 1 and 2 will end on a cliffhanger, while book 3 will reveal the conclusion of the story.
If you are averse to reading books with cliffhangers, please don’t continue.
Adult content warning!
While some of my stories are clean read, please note that Saving the Billionaire Series includes content suitable for audiences 18 years and over. Please be advised that situations and language of an adult nature could cause offence.
Mild Violence warning!
The Scent of You contains violence of a mild to moderate nature. If you are opposed to reading books with these situations, I would advise against this one.
~Prologue~
One year ago…
“I want those reports at my office before the end of the day or you can kiss this deal goodbye, Frank.”
Quinn Harrison clenched his jaw as he tapped the Bluetooth device in his ear. It was near noon and he’d snuck away from the office for a quick rendezvous with one of his female companions. Waiting for the elevator in the hotel lobby was taking much longer than he cared for. He’d been standing there exactly one minute and twenty-five seconds.
Finally, the elevator doors opened and he waited until the cubicle emptied. The phone rang as soon as he entered. He snatched the instrument from inside his jacket pocket, glared at the screen before touching the earpiece.
“Frank, I hope you have good news,” he paused. “You’re thinning my patience.”
Quinn Harrison - wheeling and dealing of small flailing companies was his one passion. With billions of dollars at his disposal, he could easily purchase or merger with any company he desired. He savored the idea of owning controlling shares in several small businesses across the country.
In most cases, these businesses approached him first. Take for instance Crane Pulp and Paper. Frank Crane approached him over a year ago, and everything had gone as planned. They signed the deal with the company and Quinn had begun his investment.
Like always, he’d had an independent auditor examine the books presented to him. What he never expected was that the accounts were forged. Frank had pulled a fast one and now he refused to present the correct accounts. Quinn had given him a chance, telling him that he’d continue to support the company and help him fix whatever had gone wrong. The condition was that he should come clean and give him the correct financial reports.
Quinn had given Crane Pulp and Paper his utmost attention for the better part of the year. He made it a point of duty never to deal more than one company at once. This way, he could give his full attention to the one on the table before moving on to the next. In addition, he wasn’t doing this because he was greedy, but because he genuinely felt that he could make a difference.
For Crane Pulp and Paper, he liked the idea that the company had been around for generations and he would like it to return to its former success. As the elevator doors started to close, he relaxed and switched his mind from business.
Before the doors completely sealed shut, someone wedged the tip of a shoe between them. Black, shiny, pointy three-inch heels stopped the doors. His eyes moved from the shoe to a light honey colored leg. His eyes lingered on its curves. As soon as the doors parted, the owner of the shoe entered. With her, came a light flowery scent that pleased his sense of smell. What was it … rose? No, it was something unusual. It was a wonderful, yet unfamiliar scent.
She quickly entered and turned her back to Quinn as she punched in her floor number. His eyes perused her from behind in her light lavender suit. Curvy hips and slender waist greeted him. He liked that. His eyes moved upward to dark hair partially covered by a wide-brimmed hat. The lift started ascending. Quinn shifted to the left of the cabin and leaned casually against the wall. His eyes stayed with the woman as he tried to get a glimpse of her face. Her head was down while she read something from a tablet.
It was then his eyes fell on the garment bag thrown over her arm. Through the clear plastic, he could see a wedding dress. So this one was walking down the aisle … too bad, he decided. With a shrug, he closed his eyes.
The sound of chirping birds and waterfall caused him to open them again. With a frown, looked up, thinking that the hotel had installed some kind of elevator music.
“Hello?” the woman’s silky voice answered her phone.
I should have known - what with that perfume, Quinn mused. He chuckled and she turned her head briefly in his direction. The moment was so fleeting that he thought he’d imagined the bottom half of her face. The hat obscured the top half of a face he knew was exquisite. Now he was so damn curious that he was tempted to rip off the headwear.
He closed his eyes as the partial view of her face resurfaced - soft luscious lips and small pert nose. Her face was smooth and he was sure the skin was as soft as a baby’s butt. But she was getting married and he couldn’t be bothered chasing a woman like that. He much preferred the ones with no expectations.
Quinn did not intend to trap himself. Perhaps when he was fifty, or there about, he might consider it. Now wasn’t the time to even ponder such things. There were too many women who needed his kind of attention and he wasn’t about to let them down.
His phone rang again. It was Frank. He tapped the earpiece and listened as the man spoke.
“Frank, stop f**king around with me,” he said easily. “The deal is off the table.”
The elevator doors opened and he glanced at the floor number. He had three more to go. The woman quickly rushed to the doors as they opened. Something fell from her hand as she stepped onto the corridor.
“Frank, are you serious?”
As she turned and bent to pick up whatever fell, Quinn’s brain froze. Her heart shaped face was indeed exquisite. His eyes followed her every move as she bent over and picked up her item. His breath hit a snag as he caught a glimpse of her cleavage.
Frank’s chatter brought him back to the conversation. The woman
straightened and hastened along the passageway. Before the door closed, two men entered.
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” one said.
“You’re married,” the other man scolded.
“Yeah, but that wedding planner man, she is the bomb.”
The other man frowned. “You mean, she’s the wedding planner?” he thumbed at the closing doors.
“Yeah, Rick introduced her to me the other day.”
“Why the hell didn’t you say hi to her?”
“I don’t know. I get nervous when I see her.”
“You idiot,” one man snapped. “I thought she was the bride. She had the dress and all.”
“Don’t you know Rick’s cousin’s fiancé man? She’s redhead.”
Quinn chuckled. So she wasn’t the bride after all. He could kick himself. In any case, Frank was beginning to get on his nerves and he returned to the conversation.
“I’m giving you one last chance,” he said to Frank. “Consider it your lucky day because I’m in a good mood. When can you have it ready?” he paused. “No more excuses.”
Quinn cut the line and tried to recall why he was in the elevator in the first place. Yes, Carla. He concentrated on that. The men exited on the next floor and a woman he knew well entered. Quinn cocked a brow and inwardly groaned.
“Quinn, you are here?” she said.
“Brittani, how have you been?”
“I’m good. What are you doing here?”
Quinn eased from the wall as he realized his floor was next. He closed the space between himself and the woman. Lifting a hand, he traced her cheek.
“That’s not your business now is it, Brit?” he kissed her lightly on the lips as the doors opened.
Quinn stepped out of the elevator, leaving Brittani staring after him. By the time he reached room #207, his tie was loose and he was almost out of his jacket.
* * *
Two hours later, Quinn entered the elevator with his jacket thrown over his arm and his tie hanging loosely around his neck. The top three buttons of his crumpled shirt were undone with the shirttails hanging loose. Two cougars coming into the lift raked their eyes over him.
One of them turned away while other regarded his crotch. He watched her, seeing the gleam in her eyes as her brain processed what she was seeing. Quinn knew what she thought and she was damn right about it. And if she wanted, he’d be willing to fix her right there.
He lifted the shirttail so she could get a better look at the front of his pants. With deliberate movements, he unbuckled his belt and tucked his shirt in. The woman licked her lips while her eyes glued to his every move.
When he had secured his tie and slipped into his jacket, he extracted a business card and handed to her. Her friend’s eyes widened at the silent exchange between the two of them. They exited the elevator a few floors down as the woman in the hat from earlier entered. That scent again, it teased his nostrils that he had to inhale deeply.
She was on the phone. “Listen Jonathan, I have nothing to say to you,” she spat. “You’re wasting both our time.” She paused while listening to Jonathan. Quinn noticed how her shoulders lifted when she inhaled a deep breath. “You sonofa…, I don’t ever want to see you again. You cheated on me and expect me to forget it? Are you out of your freaking mind?” Another short pause. “I will never forgive you as long as I live.”
She removed the cellphone from her ear and dropped it into her handbag. Her low growl told him how agitated she was. He could sense the tension in her. The elevator stopped. They’d reached the ground level. The doors opened and she rushed out. Quinn calmly stepped out and watched her half run through the hotel lobby and out the double rotating doors.
The scent of her perfume evaporated and as quickly as she’d appeared, he put her out of his mind. Now Frank needed a wakeup call and Quinn knew exactly how to give him that. He made his way to the ground floor restaurant and took a table. Once there he made a few calls. His next move would make Frank wished he hadn’t tried to double cross him.
~1~
Leah’s grandfather had always taught her to follow her heart, so why did she feel like she was letting him down? Had she done the right thing by giving up a medical degree to pursue her dreams?
Leah stood in the middle of her new office on the sixth floor of Lake Towers in the heart of Cupertino’s Business District. It’s been six years since his passing and she was still grieving. That fatal day came only three months after she dropped out of medical school to become a wedding planner. The grief was still fresh and the guilt even more so.
When she was little, she’d told everyone that she was going to be a doctor like her grandfather. After her parents divorced when she was still a baby, she went to live with her paternal grandparents. Her father went off to Europe and her mother remarried. She and her grandfather became inseparable, especially after her grandmother died.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she swallowed a lump that had risen to her throat. Thinking about her grandfather made her chest heavy and her eyes sting. Something dropping on the floor to her left caused her to open her eyes. One of the movers dropped a box.
“Be careful,” she snapped.
“Sorry, ma’am,” the man apologized.
Leah sighed as she searched the almost empty space for her assistant. Where is Bridget? This was their first day in the new office and Leah’s nerves were getting the better of her. After wavering for the better part of five years about moving her business out of her living room, she finally made up her mind. Perhaps, the business growing exponentially made up her mind for her.
“Leah.” It was Bridget.
She twirled to face her friend of fifteen years when she came face to face with two new faces – male and female.
“These are the new hire,” Bridget informed her.
“Oh,” she muttered. “I’m sorry, we’re just moving in.” Leah took Bridget’s arm and pulled her aside. “I thought they were supposed to come in on Wednesday after we’ve sorted the office.”
“I got the dates mixed up, sorry.”
The man’s voice made Leah look in his direction. “What can we do to help?”
Leah expressed surprise. “Would you? You don’t have to ....”
“Might as well get started,” he offered. “The sooner the office is ready the sooner I can get to work.”
“I agree,” the female said.
Bridget’s face broke into a broad smile. “Mike and Cara, right?” They both nodded and Bridget beckoned them to follow her. “Come with me.”
Leah sighed. She was pleased with their choice of hiring two more, making Fantasy Weddings a staff of four. Leah had grown famous in as one of Cupertino’s top wedding planners. She was known for her unusual venues and exotic type arrangements.
Her slogan, ‘Make Your Deepest Fantasies Come True’ wasn’t just for sales purposes. One of the many questions she asked her clients was what they dreamed of happening for their weddings. Leah’s desire was to make all their dreams come true no matter how peculiar or extreme.
Underwater, parachuting, paragliding, bungee jumping were only a few of the weddings she’d arranged. Because of her original and unusual methods of giving her clients exactly what they wanted, she became a celebrity in her own right. Most of her clients were from the wealthier class and could afford to have their fantasy wedding.
Another box dropped and something smashed. She rushed to pick up the contents. Her grandfather’s photo frame was lying on the floor, the glass broken into a million fragments.
“Sorry ma’am,” the mover said.
Leah picked up the photo and wooden frame. “Just clean up the glass please, and try not to drop anything else.”
With back stiff and heart heavy, she trudged to the office that was supposed to be hers. The desk sitting in the center belonged to her grandfather. She walked over to it and ran the tips of her fingers along the smooth dark surface.
“I miss you grandpa,” she whispered, her voice thick. “I hope
you are proud of me.”
~2~
The rustling of papers broke the silence of the seventh floor office in Cupertino. Three tired figures poured over documents needed for an early morning meeting. At some point, the letters and numbers on the pages began to distort. Tired eyes widened in order to focus.
Quinn pressed into his eyes with the heel of his palms as they were burning and threatening to water. During the last three days, he slept little if at all. After a few seconds, he removed his hands and blinked, trying to focus again.
Glancing at his watch, he noted it was 10:53 PM. He’d been sitting at his desk for more than three hours in a meeting with his partner and secretary. Taking over small struggling companies was Quinn’s passion. In some instances, he would buy majority shares in the company. Their current focus was merging with a small securities firm.
“Let’s wrap this up, shall we?” he suggested.
His associate and best friend nodded. Exhaustion was evident on Alan’s face, as they had spent the last few days making certain that all the documents were in order. This was a quickie deal, which he needed to wrap up soon, since there was another company proposal to look through.
Quinn glanced at his secretary. “Are these all the documents?”
“Yes, Sir,” she replied. “Those are all the files.”
Both Alan and Vita sat in two leather chairs directly in front of his desk. The surface of the solid mahogany gleamed in the fluorescent light of the office. He picked up a mug with coffee that rested on a coaster and brought it to his lips. The coffee was now cold. He replaced the mug and picked up the file he’d been studying.
Against the left wall was a sofa and opposite that was a shelf with a few books. Most of the items on the shelf were sports memorabilia, his awards and two first place football trophy replicas from college. The originals were still in the showcase at his alma mater. Beside the shelf was a portrait of his late father. Behind the portrait hid his personal safe.