Billionaire Bride

by Ava Catori

  Billionaire Bride

  Ava Catori, Lauren Keller

  Copyright 2015, Ava Catori

  It started with a bet, and went downhill from there.

  Scott Bishop never loses. When a million dollar bet is placed on the table with the odds stacked against him, he can’t help but dive in head first. Scott needs to land a bride by the weekend, and his friends have the perfect girl in mind. They weren’t going to make it easy on him with the stakes so high.

  Kennedy Reynolds has sworn off bad boyfriends, especially Scott Bishop who had burned her in the past…twice. Sure he was handsome, funny, and rich, a winning combination, but he was also a player and had an ego the size of Wyoming.

  Can Scott get Kennedy to the altar by the weekend, or will Kennedy block his every move causing him to lose a million dollar bet?

  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 1

  Scott walked into the room dangling the Maserati key fob. Flaunting his win only made it sweeter. Ross shook his head and looked away. Scott won fair and square, but the Maserati Quattroporte GTS was supposed to be his baby.

  The bets started small and grew over time, as did their wealth. Scott Bishop, Ross Weber, and Tyler “Hawk” Smith were still as competitive as the day they met. The bets started with hundred dollar bills and grew from there. Their need to outdo each other laid the groundwork for what had become outrageous challenges against one another.

  Soon they jumped from cash to prizes, with their first big bet over a motorcycle. It wasn’t just any motorcycle; it was a slick Ducati Multistrada S Grandturismo. Winner takes all, losers pay. It was a game that got out of hand and lit the fire of pushing for more extravagant wins. That $25,000 motorcycle bet soon doubled. Next they were betting over a BMW Z4 Roadster that was listed at well over $50,000. It only went up from there; the Maserati being their most recent bet.

  Scott reeked with arrogance since he’d won them all. He was convinced he couldn't lose. Every time somebody thought they had him, he’d pull ahead and win. Ross was convinced the Maserati would have been in his hands, but at the last minute Scott came from behind and won.

  The boys, now men, had spent four years as roommates and best friends through college. Scott's father had given them all jobs on their graduation. There was plenty of room in the company, and plenty of money to go around if you played your cards right.

  Scott, Ross and Hawk pooled their earnings together and invested in a small grocery chain. Over the years they rebranded, targeted a new client, and their business bloomed. Their “Modern Markets” took them to new levels. The money rolled in, the development continued, and before the age of thirty all three men had become billionaires.

  Ross eyed up Scott with a calculated grin. "Hawk and I put our heads together. We’ve got you this time. We’ve come up with a bet that there’s no way you can win. You’re going down, brother. That is, if you're man enough to take the challenge."

  "You know I can't lose, bring it on." He settled into one of the leather armchairs at the cigar club and rattled on about how much he liked the Maserati. He did it just to dig into his friend and get under his skin a little bit. Trash talking each other was one of the highlights of their friendship. Talking a good game went hand in hand with the bets.

  Hawk walked into the room with a confident swagger. “Sorry I’m late, boys.”

  "Hawk, I hear you have another bet for me. I hope it's something good. You damn well know I’m unstoppable." Scott grinned.

  Hawk laughed and turned toward Ross. "Do you want to tell him, or should I?"

  "Go ahead, it was your idea." Ross had a gleam in his eye. He couldn’t wait to see Scott’s reaction. It was a doozy, and one that would throw Scott off his game.

  "The stakes are high in this one. We’ll put up $500,000 each. That's a cool million dollar bet. Are you interested?" Hawk looked to Scott, waiting on his reaction.

  His eyes grew wide. "That's a pretty tidy sum. Are you sure about this?"

  "It won't be easy, but you're convinced you can't lose any bet." Hawk was smooth and steady, not giving away too many details.

  Scott was slow to answer. He was always up for the challenge, and loved a good bet, but it seemed that every bet grew bigger, bolder, and he worried that maybe they should cap it at some point. It's not that he didn't have the money, but he worried that their games were getting out of control. Scott ran his hand through his sandy blonde hair. He gave pause before answering. "I've got to be honest; I'm not sure how I feel about taking that much money from you."

  Ross laughed. "You’re convinced you're going to win. The funny part is that you don't even know what it is yet."

  "Are you going to tell me or am I going in blind?" He knew it would have to be a tough bet for them to risk that much money and believe they would win. Scott would do whatever it took to win. Perseverance was his strong point.

  Ross and Hawk looked at each other, grinning ear to ear. "We've got you this time."

  "All right boys, lay it on the table. Give me the ins and outs; I'm ready to listen." Scott stretched back in his leather chair, his long legs crossed in front of him at the ankles. His weathered boots weren't proper club attire, but he was given a pass as one of the wealthiest members. Those boots had been with him for years. His grandmother had them custom-made and flown in from Texas. He only took them off when he had to. "Make it quick, I told my Grams that I take her around to the store."

  "Why don't you just have a delivery service or shopper for her?" Ross asked.

  "Nah, I like going with her to visit, and she likes my company. It's the least I can do for her; she's done so much for me over the years." Scott waited on the details of the bet.

  Hawk started, "Here it is. Prepare yourself, it's a big one."

  "Get on with it already," Scott griped.

  "You claim to be such a ladies man, that we thought it would be a piece of cake for you to get yourself a bride by the weekend." Hawk smiled knowing that he'd stunned his friend.

  Ross added, "And not just any bride, we've picked one out for you."

  Scott's jaw dropped. They were plum crazy. "By the weekend? As in this weekend? You expect me to meet some girl, dazzle her in a few days, and spend the rest of my life with her? I'll give you this much… that was a hell of a bet, but there's no way I'd let you pick out my wife."

  Ross turned to Hawk. "I told you he'd be chicken."

  Hawk shook his head. "I thought you'd be up for the challenge, you always tell us that you can't lose a bet. I guess we just found one that you lost."

  "I didn't lose; I just can’t take you up on it. What did you do, go pick up a random girl off the street? And she was like sure I'll play a game with my heart? These are people's lives you're talking about." Scott stood and paced a bit. "Who did you pick out for this?"

  Ross watched Scott's brain ticking. He wouldn't have asked who the woman was if he wasn't interested in the bet. Ross knew him well enough that if they pushed his ego, he’d jump on it. "Just some girl…you might recognize her name. Kennedy Reynolds."

  Scott spun around and looked at Ross. "Are you crazy?"

  Ross smiled knowing he'd made a good choice. "The question is, are you man enough to land a bride by the weekend? There's a million bucks in it for you, and we’ll bail you out at the last minute. But in no way shape or form can she know anythin
g about this. If you tell her the game is off and you lose."

  Kennedy Reynolds. They had history. They'd dated twice before. Unfortunately, he’d broken her heart both times. He might have fooled around a little bit, avoided commitment like the plague, but he didn’t mean to do her harm. The problem was that Kennedy Reynolds wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

  It’s not like there were tons of people in the Long Valley area. And there certainly wasn’t a lot of action. Scott went into the city if he wanted more activity. Sure, Long Valley was good for outdoor stuff, but meeting women…there wasn’t a hopping club in sight.

  The sprawling farmland and estates of the small New Jersey town were perfect for farmers and families. His family held land in the area for years, and his father liked the slower lifestyle there, commuting into New York when needed. His real estate investments and develops brought him his fortune, and the company grew faster than he could keep up with. He bought into older markets that were dwindling and revitalized them, as well as bought in big near the more popular spots like Broadway and Times Square. He even secured an old building with great architectural elements to it that would be a great location for his son’s franchise of markets. It encompassed a full block.

  Scott could have moved into the city himself, but with his mother’s illness, he never wanted to be far. She needed help, and while she had caretakers, he liked helping her as much as he could. He’d move to the city some other time. His mother was his entire world. She’d been with him through everything. He built a house across from his parent’s on a five acre lot, but it was a far cry from the penthouse in the city he’d dreamt about. Sure he could buy one, but he was afraid if it was available, he’d spend more and more time in the city, and seeing his mother’s health deteriorating, he wanted to be near until the end.

  Modern Markets were about upscale shopping, the finest gourmet foods, valet parking, baggage handling, and much more. They’d transformed the dull shopping experience into an elite pleasure for an upscale crowd. At first they weren’t sure how it would do, only catering to the higher end crowd, but sales exploded. The elite wanted to feel elite, and that was the experience that Modern Market gave them.

  Scott told his friends he’d think about the bet and get back to them later in the day. It was hard to walk away when he’d gloated so much about being able to beat them at their own game so many times, but this was different.

  Chapter 2

  Kennedy Reynolds raked her fingers through her long hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. Looking in the mirror, she saw the time had moved much too quickly and she hadn't done enough to prepare. In the past, men would turn and stare as she walked into the room. Nobody had stared for way too long. She thought she had life nailed. A husband, kids, a great life…it was moments away. She'd fallen in love back in college and just when she thought she'd be heading to the altar, she found out another woman had those same exact thoughts about her same exact man.

  After college she scored a national shampoo commercial. And once again, like a fool she gave that very same man a second chance. Scott Bishop called her up on seeing the commercial telling her how much he missed her and what a mistake he had made. Convinced he learned from his past mistakes and truly knew Kennedy was the one for him, she let her guard down and let him in. Big mistake, he was back to his old ways in no time at all. Kennedy Reynolds had sworn off bad boyfriends, especially Scott Bishop.

  When she could no longer find work in commercials, Kennedy realized she'd have to find another way to support herself. She was currently working as a failing real estate agent, struggling to get by. She didn't have the knack of being a gracious host while touring homes with picky buyers. Unfortunately, her true thoughts slipped out one too many times, which ended in her losing client after client.

  Kennedy hit a wall of depression, burying herself under big baggy clothes, and eating all the wrong things. It wasn't the smartest thing she ever did, but it turned out to be one of the easiest. Sitting on the sofa and watching television didn't take a lot of effort. Microwave popcorn and potato chips and cookies were easier to eat than the dishes she used to spend time on. She just stopped caring. It took her friends calling an intervention, taking away her remote, and talking sense into her. It was time for her to start over. She'd come back stronger, healthier, smarter, and not let her emotions get the best of her. She swore she'd start the following day, because there was a really good show coming on.

  Kennedy’s best friend, Brooke London, refused to let her delay the pity party any longer. "How much longer do you expect me to leave you here on the sofa to stuff your face with junk and pretend the world doesn't exist?"

  Kennedy sighed. "What do you want me to do? You want me to bounce up and down and pretend I'm happy? Would you be happy if I went on a diet? Would you like me to pretend I'm okay with the fact that no man has taken an interest in me for over six months?"

  "No man has seen you in the last six months. You've been buried under a blanket, in pajamas, locked in your house, and refusing to go out. How do you expect anybody to find you hidden in all those layers, behind these walls, and with self-esteem so low it sets underneath your shoes? Kennedy, you're such a vibrant girl or at least used to be, don't you miss that side of yourself? I miss you. I get that you're depressed and you’ve been through a lot, but you have to pick yourself up and start again. Don't let the depression win. Go see a doctor if you think this is becoming a bigger problem than you can handle. There are medications that can help. Honestly I think a little activity or getting out of the house would help you. This feeling sorry for yourself is getting you nowhere." Brooke settled onto the sofa next to her friend. "You know I only want the best for you. I think it's time to turn things around."

  "You make it sound so easy. It's not like I haven't tried, it just seems like no matter what I do I can't go forward and only get pulled back." Kennedy hated the whiny person she’d turned into. Her life used to be superb, but anymore it was one disappointment after the other.

  “Come on, girl. Don’t you miss your spark?” Brooke leaned her head on her friend’s shoulder. “We used to have so much fun. I miss that.”

  “I do, too. You’re right. It’s time to get off of this couch and get on with my life.” She conceded, promising to make more effort.

  After everyone left, Kennedy crawled back onto the sofa and pulled a blanket over her. Tomorrow…she’d make the transition tomorrow. No. If she didn’t start now, she wouldn’t start at all. Kennedy stood up and went over to look at photo of herself and Brooke that was hanging on the wall. Kennedy stared at her own image. She used to be gorgeous. Only now her cheeks were a little rounder, her breasts fuller, and an extra forty pounds clung to her once slender figure. It was time to dust-off and get back on track.

  She kind of liked some of her new curves, the softness of her hips and breasts. With a compromise, she decided to aim for half of the weight. If she dropped twenty pounds, she’d look healthier and keep some of her new curves. She’d always been too thin anyway, and she wasn’t going back to the days where she barely fed herself and survived on coffee and mints.

  It was time to put the past behind her. She was going to take the world by storm. She’d brush up on her social skills when it came to her clients, carefully wording things, and making more of an effort. She’d sign up more clients and rack up bigger commissions. This wasn’t just about her body that she’d let go of, but her career. She stopped caring. She knew exactly the moment it happened. Two words…Scott Bishop. Never again.

  Chapter 3

  Scott met Ross and Hawk at a private steak house that takes reservations via invite only. Behind the red door, dark mahogany wood covered the floor, while reeds of Brazilian woods lined the ceiling. The walls were cover in a deep lush blue, keeping the interior low key. Drop lights hung from the ceiling above each table, each a unique piece of hand-blown glass and highly prized artwork.

  Settling in at their table, the men ordered drinks. “Have you
come to a decision?” Ross quizzed.

  “On a few conditions,” he said. “First off, I congratulate you both. This is a hell of a bet. Secondly, I’m pissed you chose Kennedy of all people. Either way, I’m always up for a challenge. I’ve sweet talked her before, I can do it again.”

  “Does that mean you’re in for a cool million?” Tyler “Hawk” Smith clapped. He’d gotten his nickname as the star player on the Nighthawk team, an ice hockey league that he’d played in for years.

  “You’ll pull me out of it at the last minute, or use a rogue stand-in for a minister? I’m not interested in getting married.” He watched his friends react.

  “Come on, we wouldn’t do that to you. You do have to get her to agree to marry you and actually show up. We’ll give her a consolation prize, so she doesn’t get all bent out of shape when the truth comes out. Okay, let’s be serious. She’s going to flip shit, but it might soften the blow if there’s money in the deal.” Ross was good and ready to shake on the deal. He’d lost the last few bets and was ready to win a big one.

  “Kennedy Reynolds? You sure you couldn’t come up with somebody else? We have history.”

  “Exactly,” Hawk said with a smile. “We figured it might add to the fireworks. You said you were unstoppable, unbeatable, and swear you can’t lose. Still thinking that?”

  Scott looked away and rubbed his hand over his arm. He finally nodded and extended his hand. “I’m in. I can’t wait to take your money. You’ll see; she’ll be putty in my hands in no time at all.”

  “Putty is fine, but if she’s not at the altar, then you’ve been beaten,” Ross reminded. Ross’s tanned skin stayed bronzed all through winter. He always looked like he’d just gotten back from vacation. The contrast of his dark hair, great complexion, and gleaming white teeth pulled in the ladies. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as smooth as Hawk or Scott. It took him a while to come into his looks. His confidence was lacking back in school, when he was tall and wispy, and more awkward looking than handsome. These days, he was all man, and while women smiled and flirted with him, he was slower to move forward.