by Alice Ward
My mouth hung open as we walked through the front door. I glanced around, suddenly realizing that we weren’t alone. Everywhere I turned were familiar faces. The entire company was here, as well as Niki and a few of my other friends. I whipped around to face Sean with shock on my face.
“What did you do?” I asked breathlessly.
“It’s a party,” he said simply. “I wanted to make sure everyone had the chance to celebrate with you.”
“Did you rent out the entire restaurant?” I demanded.
“Yes,” Sean said. He looked at me with a blank expression. He could see the emotions flashing across my face, but he didn’t react. He knew I was shocked.
“This is way too much,” I said. “You shouldn’t have done this, Sean.”
“You deserve this,” he said again. “You deserve everything. I can’t believe how successful you’ve been with the company, Tara. You have absolutely blown my mind. I am so proud of you, and I just wanted to show you that. I wanted to give you a night you would never forget. I hope that’s okay.”
For the first time, Sean looked worried that he might have upset me. He frowned and looked in my eyes with concern. I smiled and kissed him.
“Are you kidding?” I asked. “This is amazing. You are amazing.”
Sean grinned and led the way to our table. I stopped by to say hello to everyone as I passed. Niki ran forward and hugged me quickly. She ranted about how proud she was of me, but how much she still hated large corporations. I couldn’t help but laugh. Niki would never change, and I loved her for it. My employees all hugged and congratulated me, each gushing over how much they admired me. By the time we sat down, I felt flushed and happier than I could ever remember being.
Sean, Paisley, and I had a table to ourselves. We ate slowly, enjoying every bit of our food. The people around us ate and talked, getting up to visit with everyone around them. It quickly became more of a party than a fancy dinner, and I loved watching everyone enjoy themselves. I hadn’t been the only person making Yates’ a success. Everyone there did their part, and they all deserved the credit just as much as I did.
I looked around me, grinning widely, when I noticed that Paisley was bouncing in her seat. She fixed Sean with a meaningful look and he laughed. Finally, Sean sighed and shrugged.
“Okay,” he said. “Go get it.”
Paisley squealed and ran away from the table. I watched her go, confused. She disappeared to the back of the restaurant, and when I turned back to Sean, he was watching me with a smile on his face.
“What’s she getting?” I asked
“Tara,” Sean said. He took my hands in his and held them tightly. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I said, more confused than ever.
“Since the first day we met, I knew you were someone special,” he said. “Even when I didn’t like you, I could tell that you would change my life. Back then, I thought that change would be about business. When you brought me on to work for the company, I knew it would make mine and Paisley’s life so much better. I never imagined how much you would change my life personally, though. I didn’t see it coming.”
I blinked. My heart was racing as I slowly began to realize what Sean was doing. I couldn’t believe I had missed all the signs before.
“I didn’t intend to fall in love with you,” Sean said. “But when you became so attentive to Paisley and to me, I didn’t have a choice. I fell for you hard and fast. Tara, you are the reason I am who I am now. You helped me become the man I was always meant to be. You brought me back to my father, and you helped me become a real dad to Paisley. Without you, Paisley and I wouldn’t be nearly as happy as we are now.”
“Sean,” I said softly. Tears pooled in my eyes.
“You’re my soul mate, Tara,” Sean continued. “You make me so happy. I couldn’t think of a better person to be a mom to Paisley and to be a wife to me. Tara, I love you and I will love you until the day I die. If you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you make me.”
Just then, Paisley walked up behind us and handed a box to Sean. He smiled at her and turned back to me.
Opening the box, he asked, “Tara, will you marry me?”
My mouth fell open at the sight of the ring. The tears finally fell from my eyes and cascaded down my cheeks. Paisley stood beside Sean and me, grinning from ear to ear. I smiled at her and turned back to face her father.
Sean’s eyes brimmed with tears of his own and his hands shook slightly. I kissed him hard and fast, laughing against his lips.
“Of course,” I said as I pulled away. I reached over to grab Paisley. I pulled her against me and the three of us hugged. “Of course, I’ll marry you.”
THE END
Taylor’s best friend, Niki, is about as granola and down to earth as a person can get, but beneath her organic exterior lurks a little vixen. Discover her naked truth in this steamy, and I mean hot, complimentary short story (This is NOT the main book, but only an EXTRA) ....
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Alice Ward
A BONUS BOX SET
UNRAVELING THE BILLIONAIRE
ALICE WARD
BOOK DESCRIPTION
After graduating Harvard with a master’s degree in art, Lauren Matthews knew exactly what she wanted to do next. She left her friends, packed her bags and went back home to California. Everything was perfect … at first.
She began dating, work was going well and she had a mentor who had taken her under his wing. Her future was bright and going according to plan, until Asher Reynolds walked into her world.
Gorgeous, brilliant and extremely wealthy, Ash wasn’t your normal tech geek turned billionaire. He lived simply, did most things for himself and guarded his privacy above all else.
But why?
What secret was he hiding? And why was he lying to her?
UNRAVELING THE BILLIONAIRE
PART 1
CHAPTER 1
“Oh my God, Lauren. I could get used to this beautiful weather. It’s been overcast back home for the last six weeks solid. Maybe I can convince Jack and Jackson to build their next resort here in San Francisco.”
“That would be great,” I agreed with my friend, smiling into the warmth of the sun. I navigated the sidewalks of my Mission District neighborhood with Kennedy, my college roommate, and Claire, my high school best friend. We were on the hunt for a nail salon with three free chairs.
Only a few months had passed since Kennedy, her husband Jackson, and I received our graduate degrees from Harvard University. While Kennedy started studying for the bar exam and Jackson took over as Vice President of his family’s multibillion-dollar resort empire, I’d packed my bags and returned home to pursue my dreams of becoming the world’s next Pablo Picasso.
“I’m serious,” Kennedy pressed on. “I don’t know how you survived winters in Boston after a lifetime of living here.”
> “That’s what I said when she left,” Claire chimed in.
“As hard as it was for me to adapt to Boston, I have a feeling it would be harder for Jackson to adapt to San Francisco,” I warned.
I loved Jackson, but he was basically the antithesis of the tech minded, free spirited people who flocked to my hometown. He came from old money, a world where men wore neckties worth more than my used Hyundai and women were judged by their jewelry and the number of volunteer committees they sat on.
“I know,” Kennedy agreed with a sigh. “I love my husband, but he’s so old-fashioned. He packed an Armani suit to wear to the opening tonight. Lucky for him, I anticipated this and packed something a little less… stuffy.”
We arrived at the salon two blocks down from my loft and were relieved to see only one other customer. Claire pushed open the door and we filed inside.
“Hello,” a redhead behind the counter greeted us. “I’m Mary. What can we do for you today?”
“Three mani-pedies,” Kennedy replied, pulling out her credit card. “On me.”
“Regular or deluxe?” Mary asked, raising an eyebrow.
“As deluxe as possible,” she insisted. “In fact, just hold the card until the end. We may want to add extras as we go.”
“No problem,” Mary agreed. She slid the card into a small file box and gestured to the polish wall. “Just make your color selections. We’ll get everything set up.”
As she spoke, two blonde women who looked like they could be mother and daughter rose from their manicure stations and moved for the pedicure chairs. The girls and I turned our attention to the polishes and I ran through my wardrobe in my head. We were going to my friend Deacon’s opening at one of San Francisco’s hottest galleries, but I still didn’t know what I was going to wear.
Kennedy seemed to read my mind. She reached for a bottle of red polish and passed it to me. “This will match anything in your closet,” she said with a wink. She selected a rose shade while Claire decided to go for French tips. We crossed the Spanish tile floors and found our technicians waiting on short stools in front of bubbling foot baths. We slipped off our sandals and climbed onto the giant leather massage chairs.
“This is Sharon and Marsha,” Mary said, gesturing to the older blonde and then the younger.
“Kennedy, Lauren, and Claire,” Kennedy rattled off, submerging her feet in the water. I kept my feet on the platform and Marsha started removing my silver polish.
“Would you like a mimosa or a glass of wine?” Mary asked.
We exchanged ‘have we landed in heaven’ glances and Kennedy raised an eyebrow. “Mimosas?”
Claire and I nodded and Mary disappeared to a back room.
“So, are you ladies having a girls’ day?” Sharon asked. She kept her voice light and friendly while she attacked Claire’s feet with a pumice stone.
“I guess you could call it that,” I agreed. “We thought this would be a good way to pamper ourselves and get ready for an art opening we’re attending tonight.”
“That sounds like fun,” Marsha observed. “Anyone we may have heard of?”
“It’s my friend’s show, Deacon Hall,” I replied. “He and I work together at the Museum of Fine Art. He’s a fantastic painter and people are finally starting to notice.”
Marsha nodded. “I think I’ve read about him. He does a lot of abstracts, right?”
“Right.”
Mary returned with three plastic champagne flutes. She passed them out and then started on Kennedy’s feet. We sipped our drinks and made small talk with the women until our feet were thoroughly scrubbed, buffed, and polished. Then, the technicians smothered us in mineral mud from our toes to our knees and covered it in tightly wrapped hot towels.
“This will set for twenty minutes,” Mary explained. She set a digital timer and the women rose to their feet.
“We’ll give you some privacy. Would any of you like another drink?” Sharon offered.
We shook our heads and the women returned to their manicure stations. Marsha immediately pulled out her phone, while Mary thumbed through a magazine and Sharon concentrated on a Sudoku puzzle book.
“I can’t wait to meet your new boyfriend,” Kennedy teased, swallowing the last of her mimosa.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I insisted with a roll of my eyes. My calves felt loose and relaxed, but my shoulders tensed at Kennedy’s words.
When I returned to California, I made the mistake of letting my mother set me up on a blind date with the son of a woman she met at her Ladies Auxiliary. Eric was kind and soft spoken, and I felt incredibly comfortable around him. And that was the problem: I felt absolutely no spark with him.
Eric didn’t seem to share that feeling. He went out of his way to make me happy, which both endeared him to me and made me feel incredibly guilty. Eric was stable, dependable, and thoughtful, everything a woman’s supposed to want. And I wanted to want him. I’d spent the better part of the last month trying to decide if I was willing to sacrifice solid, dependable companionship for the hope of one day feeling butterflies again. I still hadn’t reached a conclusion.
“You can deny he’s your boyfriend all you want. But the copious amount of time you spend with him begs to differ,” Claire teased. She leaned forward and looked past me to Kennedy.
“You’re going to love Eric. He’s so quiet and unassuming, the perfect gentleman.”
“Really?” Kennedy purred, drawing out the word. She turned to me with a raised eyebrow and a smirk of disbelief. “That doesn’t sound like your type at all.”
I rolled my eyes again and stared down at my towel wrapped legs. “Like Einstein said, ‘the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result.’ My type hasn’t exactly worked out so well for me up to this point. I thought I’d expand my horizons. And who are you to talk? You’re a bleeding heart liberal who married into one of the country’s oldest, most conservative dynasties,” I teased, turning the conversation away from Eric.
Kennedy broke out in uncontrollable laughter and reached for my hand. She took a few deep breaths and smiled back at me. “God, I’ve missed your smart ass.”
“I’ve missed you too,” I told her with a wink. “I’m glad you could come out for the weekend. I hope you can convince Jackson to start a project here. I know the move would be temporary, but it would be nice to have you around.”
“Can’t Jackson work from just about anywhere?” Claire chimed in. We turned to her and her cheeks turned pink.
“I mean… I’ve read the profiles on your family,” she confessed to Kennedy. “From what the magazines say, Jack hasn’t set foot in a real office in nearly a decade. He seems to be running the company just fine. Couldn’t Jackson do the same?”
“Yes, he could,” Kennedy agreed. She flipped her strawberry blonde hair over one shoulder and straightened her back with determination. “He just doesn’t know it yet. And don’t be embarrassed about studying up on the family. I did the same thing before my first tutoring session with Jackson.”
An image of Kennedy huddled around her laptop in our dorm room flashed into my head. She and I had attended Harvard with the help of financial aid packages. Kennedy tutored other students to help pay her tuition. Jackson, on the other hand, was a legacy student whose admission to the college was guaranteed at birth. Several buildings on campus boasted his family name and he probably could have covered the tuition of everyone in our graduating class with the dividends of his stock portfolio. Theirs was definitely a case of opposites attract.
From the moment Kennedy told me she’d been assigned Jackson as a student, I knew I was in for a long, dramatic ride. Little did I know just how dramatic it would get.
Early on in their relationship, Kennedy found Jackson in the arms of his ex-girlfriend. She was pissed, but I’d been relieved the relationship had ended before it got too complicated.
A few hours later, Kennedy’s mom, Gloria, and Jackson’s dad, Jack, confes
sed to a secret affair and announced their surprise engagement. That’s when the world turned upside down. Kennedy and Jackson were forced to spend time together and their feelings for each other grew. It was tiresome to watch them deny their feelings and even more so to keep their secrets while they tried to figure out how to tell their parents about their relationship. But after a long and rocky road, they finally found their way to happily ever after.
“That seems like a lifetime ago, your first tutoring session with Jackson,” I observed with a reminiscent smile.
“Sometimes it does,” Kennedy agreed. “Sometimes, it feels like the last three years flew by in a blur.”
“They must have been good years,” Claire told her. “The good ones always seem to move faster than the bad ones.”
“How many bad ones have you had?” Kennedy asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
“Relax, not many,” Claire replied with a reassuring grin.
“You have to remember, Claire and Royce have been together since we were twelve years old,” I pointed out.
“That’s right,” Kennedy said with a nod. “Wow, that’s a really long time.”
“Yes, it is,” Claire agreed. “And before you ask, no, I don’t really wonder what I’m missing out on by not dating other people. And no, we’re still in no rush to get married.”
“You must get those questions a lot.”
“More than you could imagine,” Claire replied. “Most people seem to think we should either be sowing wild oats or setting up house. But we’re both perfectly happy with the way things are.”
“That’s all that’s important,” Kennedy commented.
The technicians returned with stacks of fresh towels and carefully cleaned the mud off of our legs. I leaned back in my chair and let the rolling massage hands work their magic on my shoulders while Marsha painted my toes. The mimosa had given me a soft buzz and stoked a growing hope in my chest.
Deacon Hall wasn’t just my colleague at the museum, he was also my mentor. We’d first met when I was in the eighth grade and he was a senior in high school. He was part of an extracurricular group that mentored younger artists, actors, and musicians. He was the one who’d advised me to go to college first and pursue my passion second. He said if I did it that way, I wouldn’t have to starve while I waited to be discovered.