Billionaire's Cinderella: A Standalone Novel (A Bad Boy Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (Billionaires Book 3)
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"I understand how expensive the parts are and that you'll have to charge me for the special orders," I repeated for the third time. "I don't care about that."
"But, Mr. Brickman, it's going to be very expensive," Old Jim said.
I raked both hands through my hair. "I know there have been rumors flying around-" Old Jim bristled, but I held up my hands and continued, "and I know you are not one to gossip, but you seem to think I'm penniless now."
"It's not that, Mr. Brickman," Old Jim said. He took off his hat and scrubbed his forehead. "It's just I don't understand why you're coming here. You've got the know-how to fix this car yourself. You can special order the parts and have them delivered to your doorstep."
I pulled a face. "I'm going crazy in that house, Jim. In fact, I'll pay rent if you let me work on it here."
He looked at my mother's ancient Mercedes again. "She's a beautiful car. Solid, but still racy."
"It was a unique and memorable family car," I said.
"A family car?" Madison and Ivy bounced out of a cab at the corner. Madison came right over and gave the car a serious assessment. "Could you paint it?"
"That color is classic," I told her.
Ivy joined her sister and patted her belly. "I bet the baby would love a bright-blue car. Don't you think it would be perfect in blue?"
"It's not for sale," Old Jim tried to tell the twins.
Madison squealed. "It's so cute! I can just see me and the baby cruising around in it."
I reached out my arms to stop both twins from diving into the driver's seat. "It's not for sale. In fact, I wouldn't even consider it unless you both took lessons on how to take care of it."
"Like change the oil? Ew," Ivy said.
Madison laughed. "Oh my God, they should totally make that into a reality show. Single mothers and poor families and people all get a car, but in order to keep it they have to learn how to fix it."
"I would totally watch that," Ivy agreed.
My arms dropped. "So, you'd be willing to learn how to take care of a car, fix it, and get your hands dirty if it meant you got to keep it?"
"In exchange for a free car?" Madison asked. "I'd even change a tire. Wait, am I supposed to do that when I'm pregnant?"
"I can change a tire," Ivy said.
The twins argued as they made their way inside the gas station to buy snacks. Old Jim and I stood next to the car in thoughtful silence. It was a tempting offer, teaching two, young women how to fix cars, but I especially liked what Madison had said. Take single mothers and families that could not afford a car, give them an old fixer-upper and teach them how to keep it running. It was charity, education, and my specialty all rolled into one.
Old Jim nodded as if he could read my thoughts. "A lot of people would benefit from that. You could buy up old, reliable cars for practically nothing and give them to families for another hundred thousand miles or so if you do it right."
My father had been calling every day asking when I was going to decide on an occupation. Now that I was strictly a rich heir and no longer the crown prince of a corporation, he demanded I find something to do to fill my time. Without the constant social-networking, jet-setting, and partying that I had done, I was equally desperate.
"Looks like I'm starting a charity," I told Old Jim. "And I'll need some help. Once you're done fixing my mother's Mercedes, that is."
Old Jim smiled. "Who says jobs are moving overseas?" he joked. "Between you and Kiara, our little stretch of Long Island is becoming entrepreneurial epicenter."
"Wait, what?" My heart stopped beating. I caught Old Jim's shoulder and asked again. "What did you say about Kiara?"
He gave me a knowing look, then peeled off his hat and feigned innocence. "You haven't heard? She's started one of those, what do they call it? Cottage industries. It started with a line of pasta sauces, but I've heard it's grown since."
"She did it," I said. "Her own cottage industry. Wait. Does that mean she's at her cottage?"
Old Jim smothered another knowing smile. "She moved out of her apartment a while back and into the cottage full time. Guess it just made sense."
Ivy and Madison reappeared and came over to coo at my mother's car again. Before they could ask to buy it again, I interrupted them. "Kiara's started an online sauce company?"
Madison blinked away sudden tears. "Sorry, hormones," she sniffled.
"Thanks to our social media marketing, her brand is really taking off," Ivy said.
"You didn't know?" Madison snuffled. "This whole time, you thought she was back in Brooklyn?"
"Come on, Madison, we've got to go." Ivy tugged her sister towards the waiting cab.
I was halfway into the driver's seat of my mother's old Mercedes when I realized that Old Jim was smiling down at me. "Sorry," I said. "We'll talk more. I've got to, um, go."
"Good luck." The old man winked.
I wanted to drive directly to Kiara's cottage, but the cab beat me there. I could see Ivy and Madison unloading a trunk of baby toys, and I had no choice but to drive past. Kiara was busy with her successful, online business and her stepsister's pregnancy. How could I burst in and expect her to still want to talk to me?
I hadn't approached her before because I felt like I had nothing to give. Now, with the idea of a charity bursting out of my head, I felt like I had something to show her. Kiara deserved more and I wanted to be more for her.
"If not now, then when?" I asked myself out loud.
My mother's old Mercedes coughed, lurched, and coasted to a stop. I turned the key, but there wasn't a flicker of power anywhere on the dash board, and then engine didn't turn over. It was completely dead.
"So, it's now," I said.
The car stalling seemed like a direct sign from my mother, so I jumped out of the car and started walking. There was a path down to the ocean, and I knew it was fastest way to reach Kiara's cottage. I climbed over the sand dune and raced down the path.
I was going full speed when I came around a tall dune and knocked right into Kiara. She tipped back into the sand, and I dropped down on my knees next to her.
"Are you all right? I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to run into you. I mean, I was coming to look for you, but-"
Kiara blinked at my rapid fire babbling. She sat up and caught my hand. "You're not in Europe."
I laughed, thrilled to be touching her again. "Do you really believe every rumor you hear?"
She blushed. "There was one I liked."
"The one where I was sold to a foreign princess?"
She shook her head, but didn't move to get up from the sand. She took my other hand as if she couldn't believe I was real. "The rumor that you did it all for a woman you'd fallen madly in love with."
I shook my head. "Sorry, that one's not true, either."
She pulled back and narrowed her eyes. "So, you were just running along this path for fun. That makes sense. Seeing as you're wearing a sport coat."
I pulled Kiara to her feet and held on. "The rumor said I did it all for a woman I loved. The truth is that I didn't do enough."
Her eyes reflected the shining ocean. "I think you might have just missed one small thing."
I nodded and wrapped her close in my arms. "I never told you I loved you. I love you. I love you."
I would have kept saying it until the sun went down, but Kiara encircled my neck with her arms and stopped me with a kiss.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Epilogue
"Stop fluttering around, Vincent Jeffry, or I'm never going to get this icing right," I said.
"Make sure you get put another flower over here. There seems to be a gap."
I slapped his hand away from the four-tiered wedding cake. "Don't you have champagne glasses to put out, or silver to polish or something?"
"Give him a break, Kiara, he's only trying to help," Ivy said. She reached out a finger to swipe a taste of frosting and I slapped her hand, too. "Ouch!"
"I just want everything to be p
erfect," I said.
They backed off. Vincent Jeffry fluttered out the door to check on the place settings in the dining hall, but Ivy settled down at the kitchen island to watch me. Her eyes drifted from my frosting flowers to the large, luxurious kitchen of Brickman Estate.
"This is like ten of our cottage kitchens all in one," Ivy said. "Doesn't this place intimidate you?"
I looked around the room and shook my head. "I thought you always wanted a place like this. Weren't you going on and on about having a mansion and a yacht, too?"
"Right now, I'd settle for a date to the wedding."
I laughed and offered her a spoonful of frosting. "You'll find someone when you least expect it. Trust me."
"I didn't know you could bake, too," she said.
I smiled. "Turns out I'm good at weddings."
Ivy raised her eyebrows. "Really? Is that why you're hiding in here instead of getting dressed and greeting guests?"
"I am not hiding," I snapped.
She held up both hands. "Sure. Fine. Everyone freaks out in their own way."
Vincent Jeffry burst back through the kitchen door. "There are no dessert forks at three place settings and I can't find them anywhere. Someone is trying to drive me mad."
Ivy snickered. "See? Everyone freaks out over weddings."
"Give him back the dessert forks, Ivy," I told her.
She reluctantly gave up the small, silver forks. Vincent Jeffry snatched them from her hand and polished them vigorously as he marched back into the dining hall. The door had hardly stopped swinging when he burst in again.
"We have the dessert table all set. Is the cake ready?" the butler asked.
I sighed. I had run out of excuses. "Yes, it's ready."
Two hired waiters carefully hoisted the wedding cake and carried it through the door to the dining hall. Ivy and I could hear Vincent Jeffry instructing them every step of the way.
"Maybe that's what you need," she said. "Step by step directions. First, put down that bowl and turn off the water. There is no way you should be washing dishes right now. Second, go upstairs and get dressed. Third, find your stepsister someone to fall in love with before she grows old alone."
"Ivy, you're hardly old enough to get married, much less grow old alone."
"Tell that to Madison," she mumbled.
"You're still here?" Vincent Jeffry clapped his hands as he marched back into the kitchen. "That's it. Time to go. Put down that bowl, Kiara."
"All right, all right," I laughed as he shoved me towards the door. "What's the big deal?"
"This is one event you cannot watch from the kitchen," the butler said. "Everyone expects to see you walking down that aisle in exactly two hours. Now go get ready."
#
Vincent Jeffry was there at the door to the ballroom when I arrived. After a quick inspection of my dress, hair, jewelry, and make-up, he nodded. I was ready.
"Thank you," I said and squeezed his hand.
The butler nodded, choked up with happy tears. "I just love weddings."
I did, too, but it was hard not to feel a pang of loss. My father and brother were still overseas and though they were going to watch via satellite, it wasn't the same as having them there. It was hard to imagine what they would be like at a wedding, both in tuxedos instead of flak jackets. The thought made me smile even as tears swam in my eyes.
At least, I wouldn't have to walk down the aisle alone, I thought.
"I look like a giant marshmallow, don't I?" Madison asked. She stood back so I could see her dress, but her hand reached out to grip mine.
"You don't look anything like a marshmallow," I said. "You look beautiful. Radiant."
Madison snorted. "Everyone tells pregnant women they look radiant when they really mean rotund."
I looked at her dress and smiled. "You look absolutely wonderful. Cameron Falcon is going to eat his heart out."
"Unless I do it first," she said. "I'm starving. I don't think I can do this."
"I'm not walking down that aisle alone," I told her.
"Is my dress really pretty?"
I stepped back and studied my eight-months pregnant stepsister. The white gown was off the shoulders except for a wisp of lace on each. The satin neckline was overlaid with the delicate lace and then gave wave to yards of flowing, floating, sheer fabric. Her baby bump was noticeable, but it only added to the glowing goddess effect of her wedding dress.
"Madison, you are the most beautiful bride I've seen," Teddy said. He slipped an arm around my waist and squeezed me close. "So far."
"Is he really there?" Madison asked.
"Falcon?" He nodded. "Oh, don't worry, I walked him to the altar myself. The ballroom's packed, so there's no way he can slip away unnoticed now."
"I'm so happy for you," I told Madison.
Cameron Falcon had broken down a week after he heard that Teddy and I were together. He stood outside the cottage for almost twelve hours straight before Madison decided to listen to him. She'd been pasted to the window the whole time, trying to interpret his every blink, but she wanted to make her point. He had hurt her once, and she was not going to let it happen again. He proposed to her the next day.
"Hold everything," Ivy called. "There's some problem with the doves. We have to wait until the dove guy gives us the thumbs up. Then you can open the doors."
Teddy leaned closed and brushed a kiss along my neck. "Please tell me our wedding will not be this complicated."
I laughed. "I'm not sure Vincent Jeffry can handle another fancy wedding."
We watched as the frazzled butler spun in circles in the foyer, trying to catch a wayward dove.
"Please, Kiara, you promised. Our wedding is the one day you'll let me spend money without watching every penny."
I held up my hand and my giant engagement ring caught the light of the chandelier. "This is as fancy as it needs to get for me."
Teddy grinned. "So we're eloping?"
I kissed his cheek. "Even better. Small ceremony, just our closest friends. I know the perfect little chapel out in your garden."
Teddy smiled and moved from kissing my neck to kissing me. In between smiling brushes of his lips, he asked, "Will you at least let me hire some fancy chef so you can take the day off?"
I shook my head and pulled back from his soft kisses. "No. No fancy chef. I've got a better idea."
"We elope?" he asked again.
"No," I laughed. "Small ceremony, just our closest friends, in the little chapel in the garden. And we have the reception catered by our favorite Brooklyn pizzeria."
"Perfect," he breathed hot in my ear. "I love it. And, I love you."
"Enough, you two," Madison said. "Someone's got to get me down the aisle."
I took my pregnant stepsister's arm and squeezed it tight. Teddy and Vincent Jeffry pulled open the doors to reveal the ballroom. It was decorated floor-to-ceiling with garlands of roses, and there at the altar by the fireplace, Cameron Falcon grinned from ear to ear.
I blew Teddy a kiss and walked down the aisle towards a happy ending.
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Chase - The Complete Romance Series
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Claire Adams
Chapter 1
Chase
“Another round for everyone,” I hollered out as I walked into Club Kitty.
“Mr. Foster,” the manager, Aaron, said as he pulled me aside. “Your father asked me not to let you buy rounds of drinks for everyone anymore.”
I hated when my father started talking to people and telling them what to do. He thought that just because he had money, he could control me. But I could take care of myself. I didn’t need my father butting into my business.
“My fucking father is not my keeper,” I said to Aaron. “George, I’m buying the round.”
The bartender stood still and looked at Aaron for guidance. George wasn’t prepared to get on my bad side, yet he also didn’t want to lose his job. As he looked back and forth between the club manager and me, it was hard to tell who was firmer in their stance. But I knew that money always spoke for itself, so I simply pulled out a few hundred-dollar bills and flashed them at the two men.
“Fine, Chase, buy your drinks. But if your father asks, I’m going to tell him that you insisted.”
“That works,” I said as I made my way to the corner lounge area of the club.
Club Kitty was my favorite place to hang out at on weekends. Actually, it was my favorite place to hang out on some weekdays, too. It was a dance club where some of the most beautiful people in Atlanta came to hang out. Sexy, young women dressed in next to nothing shook their assets in the hopes of landing themselves one of the wealthy men who frequented the club.
I was one of the most eligible bachelors in Atlanta. My father, Reynold, owned Foster Industries, a high-end manufacturing company that earned a net of over $5 billion dollars the previous year. Everyone in Atlanta knew I was on my way to being the next CEO. In fact, my father had plans to hand over his company at the next big stockholder meeting in a few months.
“Come here, beautiful,” I said as I grabbed a delicious-looking blonde off the dance floor.
“Hi,” she said as she latched onto me. “I’m Lana.”
“Lana, I’m going to take you into the back room and fuck you.”
She tried to look shocked at my proposition. She was sweet, maybe twenty-two years old, and totally my type. I didn’t come to the club for a long-term relationship. I came for fun, and Lana looked like just the kind of fun for me.