Stood Up (Billionaire Up #1)

by Ryan Michele

  Stood Up (Billionaire Up #1)

  A Billionaire Romance

  Ryan Michele

  Ryan Michele

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Epilogue 2

  About the Author

  Also by Ryan Michele

  Stood Up (Billionaire Up Book 1) Copyright © Ryan Michele 2017

  All Rights Reserved. This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction in whole or in part, without express written permission from Ryan Michele.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  1st edition published: April 2017

  Editing by: Silla Webb

  Cover Design by: Susan Garwood at Wicked Women Designs

  This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All sexually active characters portrayed in this book are eighteen years of age or older. Please do not buy if strong sexual situations, violence and explicit language offends you.

  Chapter 1

  Aiden

  What the hell am I doing?

  Nerves settle deep in my gut, and my hands give a slight tremble. Pushing down the form-fitting navy blue dress with a wraparound middle does nothing to comfort me. If anything, it makes me even more on edge when the fabric sticks to my hands from the dampness that is out of my control.

  Standing by my car, I suck in the cool night air allowing it to invade me, calm me, or at least attempt to.

  My cell rings in my purse and without looking I know who it is because of the ringtone. What about Your Friends blares, and I quickly reach in then swipe the screen to get it to shut up as I peer around at the people in the parking lot.

  Leave it to me to not turn my ringer off when I’m at a fancy restaurant with people dressed to the nines. Another reason I shouldn’t be here. I dress nice, but some of the diamonds glittering off the women are unnerving. Even for my work clientel this place is considered fancy.

  “What?” I hiss knowing exactly why she’s calling me and getting teased or made fun of isn’t top on my priority list.

  Lila laughs. If she were next to me, I’d smack her, then probably smack her again just for the sheer fun of it. It wouldn’t take long before she’d return the favor, repeatedly. Being friends since the dawn of time will do that to a relationship. Our tiffs never last long though. We’re usually laughing by the end.

  “Testy.” She tsks with a tone that tells me her lips are smiling. “You’re fine, Aiden. Enjoy it.”

  “Enjoy it? I don’t know this man. You haven’t told me anything about him. What friend does that?”

  The laughter leaves her voice. “Your best friend. I wouldn’t set you up with some psycho, Aiden. And neither would Brad.” Brad is Lila’s husband, who works at Excel, a high-end marketing company and the reason I’m here, standing in a well-lit parking lot about to meet my blind date, Drake Hamilton. Brad works with Drake, and either Lila or Brad thought we’d make a good match. She still has yet to give me the why to that assumption.

  “And, girly, I told you what I know about him.”

  “Yeah, and I got more out of the Google search.” Unfortunately, I didn’t have a ton of time so my searches were quick and in no way in depth giving me very little. While I give Lila a lot of shit, I know she’d never set up me to fail. That’s just not her personality. It’s just that blind dates aren’t for me. The not knowing, the anticipation, the well hell, everything is unnerving.

  Lila’s laughter returns. “That’s my girl. He’s a good man and has a great job. What else is there to know?” If she were in front of me right now, she’d be shrugging like this is no big deal. Which if I’m being honest, in the grand scheme of life this isn’t a big deal. Expect, I don’t car for it. Sure, spending time with someone you don’t know will put most people on edge, but her nonchalance isn’t cool right at this moment. She’s lucky I love her so much.

  The Excel company website, that I did check, had no picture of Mr. Drake Hamilton but stated that he is an advertising executive, who has worked with the company for more than five years. That was it. I’m rolling with it and taking Lila’s word on the good guy part, or is it Brad’s? Right now, I’m not so sure. It doesn’t really matter, because I’m here ready to do this. If nothing else than for my best friend to get off my ass for a while.

  Sighing into the phone, “Lila, I’m going to be late.” Leave it to me to be late for a date. No, not going to happen.

  “You’ve got this, Aiden. You deserve to be happy, and the only way to do that is to get out there. It may not be Drake you fall passionately in love with, but just have fun with it.”

  Lila has my best interests at heart, always has. Ever since that dick Greg cheated on me, I haven’t been able to find my groove when it comes to men. I’ve gone on a few dates, but nothing has gone any further than that one night. I’ve tried, but every single one lacked the confidence to gain that trust. The air about them wasn’t right. A big thing was, they all reminded me of Greg. They were too complacent, too fixed on themselves, too lax. Every single quality that while I was with Greg, I found out I didn’t like.

  I really only agreed to this date because my best friend wouldn’t shut up about it every time I talked to her. Few people on this planet I’d do anything for, but Lila is one of them, even if I made her work for it a bit. In the end, she won because she’s Lila.

  She’s flat out told me she is worried about me. I love her for that, but she really has nothing to worry about. When or if the right man comes, it’ll happen for me. I’m not going to push something that isn’t there. No point in that. I’m just not actively searching, because, why. Why do I have to? Being single isn’t a bad thing one bit. I’ve learned more about myself in this time and know that I’m stronger than I may look. I know what I want and what I don’t. If anything, Greg cheating on me opened my eyes in a huge way.

  Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that I’m happy he did, because that shit isn’t right. If he would’ve just manned up and said he wasn’t happy, we could have split amicably. What he did was just assholish, but I’m a better person for it. So it evens itself out in a way.

  “Thanks, Lila.” My words are soft in the phone hoping that she can hear my thanks in them. She’s been my rock through every hardship in my life as I’ve been for her. While she found her happily ever after, I have yet to and that’s alright. I’m happy for her.

  “Love you.”

  “Love you.” Disconnecting the phone and putting it on silent, my eyes scan the parking lot noting the smiles on several people. Thankfully, no one’s paying much attention to me.

  This is go time. Reaching up, I run my fingers through my dark brown hair. It’s been said to have an auburn tint to it at times, but it’s only when the sun reflects off it. I chose to wear it down, letting the waves cascade down my back. With makeup, I went for the smoky look around my hazel eyes allowing the green to pop out more than the blue, even with the dress. Everything else is natural,
even the gloss of my lips is nude.

  Entering the restaurant, I make my way to the very cheerful hostess who smiles broadly at me. Her hair is cut in a bob that accentuates her cheekbones. The silkiness of her blonde hair is something television commercials are designed for.

  With my back straight and shoulders up, I state, “Reservations under Drake Hamilton.”

  “Of course,” she replies, looking down at the book in front of her. Her finger traces down the paper ever so slowly then stops. “He hasn’t arrived yet, but I’ll be happy to seat you.”

  He’s not here yet? You’ve got to be kidding me, and here I thought my phone call would make me late. I nod acknowledging her and follow the woman through the throngs of people. Uncertainty sets in because I feel eyes on me the entire walk from the other guests. Surely, they can’t be staring at me of all people. Shit, do I have toilet paper hanging off my dress? I turn to look, nothing. What about on my shoe? I look there, nothing. I filter my fingers through my long hair and note no tangles sticking straight up in the air. Strange.

  I know I’m not unattractive, but I never get this much attention from just walking into a place.

  The hostess stops at a table in the middle row of the space. Intimate booths line the walls with a bar at one end, while tables line the middle. The décor is very modern in chromes, blacks, and reds yet has an ambiance of comfort. I have no idea how they pulled that off, but somehow it works.

  Taking my chair, a waitress strides up to the table, again a smile beaming across her face. They must have a rule—must smile. Or maybe they’re filming a toothpaste commercial. Try extra white, it brightens your teeth. I stifle a smile as she speaks.

  “Can I get you something to drink, ma’am?”

  Looking around the space again, most people have some type of wine. I, on the other hand, am not a wine drinker and am not about to start conforming now. I may have a few nerves about the uncertainty of meeting someone new and different, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be me. After all, if he doesn’t like me, then so be it.

  “What do you have on draft?”

  Her mask of happiness tilts just a bit, but she recovers quickly relaying the different brews. I pick a malty sweet one, and she runs off.

  Pulling out my phone, the time display says seven thirty, the exact time I’m supposed to be here. Now, where the hell is Drake Hamilton? I used to be more laid back about time, more go with the flow, but after Greg didn’t take my time seriously by purposefully being late or saying I forgot to call, I became a bit more apt about it. My time is just as important as anyone else’s. If the guy I’m with can’t get his shit together, then he’s not the man for me.

  Strike out.

  The waitress comes back setting down the large craft of beer and a basket of bread onto the deep red covered table. She glances to the other space where a menu lay then back to me. “Would you like to order any appetizers while you wait?”

  I haven’t even opened my menu yet, therefore have no clue what they have. “No thank you.”

  “I’ll be back shortly.” I nod.

  Time slowly ticks by as I sip my beer and try with great restraint not to bounce my leg impatiently. The feeling of an intense stare boring into me has my head turning instinctively in that direction. Startling sea green eyes stare back at me, not looking away as we connect, an instant pull booming in my chest.

  The man is dressed from top to toe in an expensive light cream tailored suit that screams money. His strong features implore confidence, and the way he doesn’t even shift his gaze or hide his stare has me on edge. A shiver goes down my spine, and I impulsively look away from his intensity.

  When I do, to my astonishment, sea green man isn’t the only guy looking in my direction. Several others are as well. Do I really look that out of place here? I know I’m not dripping in diamonds, but still. It must be my beverage of choice. To the right, a woman slaps a guy’s arm and his focus goes back to her.

  Suddenly, the room becomes warm. I’ve never been the type of woman who wants to attract attention or craves it. I’d rather fade into the background and do my own thing. The gazes from the patrons are not allowing me this. Especially when I glance back at sea green man and notice he hasn’t moved away from his intense perusal of me. It’s still as sharp as before.

  Needing a distraction, the beer gives me an out. The cool liquid does nothing for my body, though, as the heat burns me. I turn to my phone to check the time, and it states seven forty-three. Okay, is he stuck in traffic or something? Or is he even coming? Turning to the hostess station, no single males are in the area. At least none that look as if they are intent on meeting a woman on a date and searching for her. Shit. He surely didn’t stand me up. Who does that nowadays?

  Swiping the phone, Lila’s name pops up and I hit the button. She answers on the first ring, “Why are you calling me?”

  “Why isn’t your guy here?” I charge back softly.

  I hear her audible gasp of shock. “You’re shitting me.”

  Ever so quietly I respond, “Do you think I’d be calling you in the middle of fancy schmancy place if I were shitting you?”

  “Hang on.” She covers the phone with her hand because the sounds on the other end are muffled. More than likely she’s asking her husband. Time seems to tick by slowly, then I hear her. “He’s stuck at work.” The regret is evident in her voice, and I try to keep my frustration down. I got dressed up, did my hair and makeup for this shit, and this dickhead didn’t bother to call Brad and tell him he wouldn’t be able to make it. What a piece of shit. Definite strike out for this guy.

  Where the hell are the good men?

  Are there any good men?

  “It’s fine. I’ll talk to you later,” I tell Lila then hang up the phone and set it on the table. Closing my eyes, I breathe in and out. I’ve had much worse things happen to me, this is just one of those stepping stone moments that everyone has to go through in life.

  My phone goes off vibrating, and I see it’s Lila no doubt feeling bad for me. I don’t need her pity. Best friend or not, the pity train is gone. I swipe the ignore button, needing a bit of time before talking to her and take a large pull from my beer.

  Stood up. Well, I guess I can check this off the bucket list, I joke to myself. Only something like this would happen to me. I give in to the pressure from my best friend and go for it only to be stood up. A smirk tips my lips as I let the irony hit me, allowing the humor of the situation to take me over and release the anger in a puff of smoke. It does no one any good to be angry at something like this. Roll with it. Live in the moment.

  The waitress takes that instance to stop by the table again. “Is there anything I can get you?”

  My stomach growls having only eaten a small sandwich on the go this afternoon when I had a meeting with a client. Oh, what the hell. I grab the menu, see chicken parmesan, one of my favorite meals, and order it. May as well make the best of this fuck up and see the light at the end of the tunnel. Anyway, it’s better to eat here than to go home and have soup from a can or salad, blah.

  “And will you be joined?” she asks with a curiosity that should piss me off, but it doesn’t.

  “No, he stood me up. Just me. And can I get another beer?”

  Her eyes grow wide at my honesty. It’s what she wanted anyway, to get to the bottom of why the chair in front of me isn’t taken yet. I’m not embarrassed. I’m too old for that. This just puts another string of disappointments through the web of misgivings when it comes to men. Whatever. Who needs them anyway. Vibrators get the job done when needed.

  “Yes, very well,” she says, getting herself together and leaves. I sip the final part of my beer and ignore everyone around me. I ignore the feel of the eyes. Let them look, who the hell cares.

  I should call Lila back, but I’ll do it tomorrow or at least when I get home. I’m out and hungry, all the bullshit can wait another day. After a bit, my meal comes and smells absolutely delicious. I eat in peace, and I feel i
t—the calm. With my job, I’m on the go a lot of the time. Here in this moment, I take it as a sign that I need to recoup myself. I’ve forgotten lately to live in the moment. To take one thing at a time, always on the go and never stopping. This feels good, feels right.

  The burst of tomato sauce hits my tongue, and I shut my eyes on a moan, enjoying its deliciousness. This is so much better than I could ever make, at least when I try to cook. So much better than the bottled stuff I get at the store, too.

  A chair scrapes softly, and I feel movement in front of me. My eyes fly open only to find sea green ones staring back at me garnering my full attention. Trying not to choke on my food at his boldness, I carefully chew and swallow but say nothing, just quirk my brow in question.

  He leans back in the chair, and I swear I can hear the wood groan from his bulk. He crosses his foot over his kneecap and laces his fingers behind his head. Casual as can be and without a care in the world, but looking as if he could run the world in that one pose.

  “Can I help you?” I finally ask when he doesn’t offer me anything.

  He licks his plump lips like the words that came out of my mouth are lustful and he wants to eat them and me up.

  “I’m imagining that moan when my cock is buried inside you so fucking deep you feel me in your throat.”

  Chapter 2

  Aiden

  Holy hell. I should probably be totally offended at his crude words, but for some ungodly reason, I feel my body thump alive. Warmth spreads through me as a roll begins in the lower half of my body. I gather myself before speaking because there’s no way in hell I’ll allow this man to see his effect on me with just his words. He’s a stranger for goodness sake.

  “That work with all the women?” I challenge and see a slight tip of his lip, but no other expression change. I wonder if he practiced his stoic, not giving anything away face or if it’s a natural part of him. My gut tells me it’s fully natural, and if that’s the case—hot damn it’s sexy as all hell.