Christmas with the Billionaire ; A Tiara for Christmas

by Niobia Bryant

  Kimber’s heart sank. It was after seven now.

  “Kimber, where are you? Pick up your phone.”

  That message came from her aunt Amelia. The five text messages were from her aunt, as well. The final voice mail on her phone broke Kimber’s heart.

  “Ms. Reyes, this is Rory calling again from MET. We apologize for the last-moment request and hope we’re able to connect next time. We’ll call if something should come up again.”

  Kimber turned her face up to Dario. His mouth opened for what she assumed was an apology. She held her hand in the air.

  “Forget it. If I hadn’t been out here with you, I would have had the perfect job.”

  “Kimber, that’s not fair. How was I to...”

  She held her hand up again. “Save it. Maybe you don’t want to put your business degree to use in whatever it is, urban development, because you’d have to grow up and quit partying all the time. But I worked my ass off in school and now I just lost the best internship possible. I gotta get out of here.”

  Chapter 1

  Eleven months later...

  It took a few minutes for Kimber Reyes to cram herself and her rolling suitcase into the already crowded elevator, even longer if you counted the time she’d been standing there on the seventy-second floor waiting for one of the elevators to arrive. There’d been no scientific proof that Dubai’s tallest building had begun to sway, but the longer Kimber waited, the more she was sure she felt it.

  The others crammed into the compartment from previous floors had not been pleased to be joined by Kimber and her luggage. When the doors opened, a gentleman in a silver suit in the back-left corner had sighed heavily. The man in the Stetson beside him had clenched his jaw as he focused on Kimber standing there.

  She’d just smiled smugly and waited as Stetson man and suit man squeezed themselves against the back wall to make room. The women on the elevator, however, didn’t give much ground, and one huffed audibly when Kimber’s phone began to ring as soon as the doors had closed behind her. Kimber reached into a deep pocket of the long-sleeved black maxidress decorated with red roses and pulled out the pink-bedazzled device. She’d set the ringtone to “Jingle Bell Rock” just after Thanksgiving last week when Uncle Stephen had sent a photo of her aunt Lexi and aunt Amelia doing their own rendition of the festive song.

  “Hey, Aunt Lexi,” Kimber said cheerfully. Her mood had already lifted at the sight of Lexi’s smiling face in the saved-call ID photo.

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  Kimber gave a side-eyed glance to her left and then right. “No, not at all,” she lied. “What’s going on? I was just getting ready to head to the airport.”

  “What time does your flight leave?” Lexi asked. “You’re coming back home, right?”

  Gnawing on her bottom lip, Kimber shook her head. “I have a few stops I want to make before returning for the holidays.”

  “Oh.”

  The single word, more like a disappointed sound, told Kimber everything she needed to know. Something was the matter. “What’s wrong?”

  The elevator shot down a few more floors before the doors opened again. Kimber’s stomach trembled along with it. Less than ten years ago, she’d received the horrific news that her parents had died in a stupid car crash while avoiding a deer on County Road Seventeen back home in Southwood.

  “Nothing’s wrong, per se,” began Aunt Lexi. “Things would be much better if you were to come home sooner than Christmas Eve. Preferably in the next twenty-four hours or so.”

  “What?”

  “I just proposed a Christmas pageant at the Christmas Advisory Council and I would love it if a few of my former belles could stand with me. You’re available, right?”

  “What do you mean by available?” She didn’t have to ask really, Kimber thought with a pout.

  “Single belles, single belles,” Lexi sang into the phone, “single all the way.”

  The punishment for not being married in Southwood was being appointed an official errand runner and party planner. It was a high price to pay but Kimber wouldn’t trade it for the world. She never wanted to settle down with anyone. She knew Lexi didn’t have a lot of options because everyone Kimber knew was married now and probably busy over the holiday season. “Great. So what you’re saying is, I’m a loser.”

  “I’d never put it like that,” said Lexi.

  “Well, you know I love you and I’ll do whatever you need.”

  “Great. I’ve checked the flights. There’s one leaving in two hours. I’ll order the ticket now and leave it in your name.”

  Kimber took a deep breath. That meant in twenty-four hours she would find herself face-to-face with the man who’d sent her running from Southwood. Dario Crowne. The thought of his name made her knees weak.

  “Sure,” Kimber said sweetly. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

  “Great. I’ll see you soon.”

  Kimber disconnected the line at the same time as the elevator doors opened on the ground floor. It took her as long to get out as it had taken her to get situated in there. At least, until struggling with getting the wheeled luggage to move forward she realized the Stetson dude held on to one side.

  “Allow me to help,” he drawled.

  “Help? You’re the one causing the problem,” Kimber huffed and gave her suitcase one hard yank. She stumbled in her black sandal stilettoes but caught her balance. “No thanks. I’ve got this.”

  The man looked beyond Kimber’s frame, then held his hands up in surrender before backing away. She sighed in relief. While the cowboy was hot, she didn’t have time for a fling before heading back home. Besides, there was no other man Kimber could imagine touching her like...she grimaced, hating the man.

  Thankfully, something shiny caught her eye—a small child wearing a gold-colored crown with red “rubies” on the points.

  One of the main reasons Kimber had taken the Miss International Pageant Beauty Beat job in Dubai was to uncover the mysterious designer of the sweet donation of tiaras around the hospitals in South Georgia. Between her experience with pageants and her degree in journalism and linguistics, she’d been a shoo-in for the reporter position at the blog, posting and updating the latest pageant news.

  In the pageant industry, a few designers created platinum crowns set with Swarovski crystals as prizes for the winners. As Miss Florida International Sweetheart, Kimber had encountered many such treasures during her travels around the nation.

  Kimber believed in giving back to her community. When her parents had passed away, it felt like everyone in Southwood and the surrounding cities came out to support her and her sister, Philly. She’d paid it forward by volunteering at Four Points General Hospital where she worked in the children’s wing, brightening up the kids’ days.

  Just over a year ago, a box of beautifully crafted handmade tiaras had appeared in the hospital just in time for the pageant event Kimber was organizing for the girls in the long-term wing. No one knew who’d left them. There was no note or sign of where they’d come from. They’d just appeared, and the craftsmanship was amazing. Shortly after initially seeing the crowns, Kimber had started spotting people wearing them on Instagram. Kimber wanted to give one of the beautiful tiaras to her aunt Lexi. She owed everything to her uncle Stephen’s wife. If it hadn’t been for Lexi, Kimber was sure she’d have ended up some entitled brat, shoplifting for the thrill of it.

  A young American mother reached for the little girl’s hand before she had a chance to leave the concierge desk. Kimber could spot an American a mile away. They were usually dressed in more revealing clothing than that of the local women. Kimber loved her bodycon dresses as much as the next woman, but Dubai was not the place to wear them, out of respect.

  It took Kimber a moment to move. Her eyes focused on the way the mother reached for her daughter, all the while talking to
the man at the desk. A lump formed in her throat, recalling the way she would step too far from her mother as a child. She couldn’t explain the telepathic way Kimber had known to take her mother’s offered hand as a child, even when her mother wasn’t looking. By the time Betty died, Kimber had been too cool to hold her mother’s hand in public. She regretted that the most. Sniffing, Kimber took a deep breath and focused on the family in front of her. The little girl with the tiara skipped away from the gold fish pond over to her mother’s side.

  Kimber dragged her bag behind her and made her way to the mother-daughter duo to get the scoop on where she’d purchased the tiara. Whenever she thought she was on to something, her palms itched. And her palms itched right now. The closest Kimber had come to the tiaras, besides the local beauty queens back home, were the budding beauty queens from some of the cities she visited while in the Dubai area. No one she spoke with could recall where the tiaras came from. Kimber began to wonder if it was a conspiracy to keep from exposing the designer.

  Kimber had the tiaras inspected and learned the jewels were not real but a step above Swarovski and cubic zirconia that made up some tiaras. These man-made crystals were manufactured by the Assadi Association and were also sold at Assadi Jewelers here in Dubai. Kimber understood that the Crowne family back in Southwood had a connection to Aamir Assadi, a sheikh from this area with an American education. It would make sense for Kimber to ask the Crownes what they knew about the mystery tiaras and Aamir, but she wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with the Crownes at the moment. Things with Dario had ended so awkwardly, she wasn’t sure how to broach the subject—especially since it’d been a while.

  “Excuse me,” Kimber said, gently tapping the mother on the shoulder. “I don’t mean to interrupt your check-in, but I was hoping I could ask you a question.”

  The American lady turned around and smiled, clearly happy to recognize the familiar accent. “Oh, thank God, you can ask me anything you like if you’ll get this man to understand I have a reservation for this afternoon, and I want to check in early. I’m getting nowhere.”

  Having stayed there several times already, Kimber knew the concierge, Omar, spoke and understood English well. She pressed her lips together and gave him a look. Omar returned the look with a raised eyebrow. Mentally she got it. The American lady wasn’t being friendly. Kimber switched to Arabic. “Stop playing, Omar. I need to ask this lady a question.”

  “What’s the English word for obnoxious?” Omar asked back.

  “Fine.” Kimber sighed. “I’ll make sure you’re my special guest when I come back for the next pageant.”

  Satisfied with that, Omar handed the woman her keys and smiled sweetly.

  “Thank you,” the woman responded. “Now what was it you wanted to ask me?”

  “The tiara,” Kimber replied, glancing down at the young girl. “Did you get it locally?”

  “I guess you can say that,” the woman answered. “My husband works at American Hospital Dubai and these were under the tree for the sick kids.”

  The little girl didn’t look sick one bit, but who knew? She may have healed well. “I’m sorry. Looks like she’s on the mend.”

  “She isn’t sick. She just wanted a crown,” said the mom. “So we grabbed one.”

  Listening at the desk, Omar snickered loud enough for Kimber to hear. She narrowed her eyes in his direction. Kimber turned her attention back to the mother. “Thank you very much for your time. Merry Christmas to you both.”

  “Anytime,” said the woman. “And if you’re looking to make your own, I noticed there’s a jewelers right across the street.”

  “What are the odds?” Kimber wondered out loud. “Thanks again.”

  Kimber dragged her bag behind her and headed out the revolving doors into the bright sunny afternoon. What were the chances she’d find what she was looking for right in front the whole three months she’d been here? Dario Crowne popped into mind. Again.

  The idea of going home must really be getting to her. Ah, but if she were there, the weather would certainly be different. It was December and here she was in Dubai, wearing a thin dress. Southwood this time of year might not ever see snow but she’d have on a thin sweater, at least. Hiking her purse higher on her shoulder, Kimber inhaled the warm air.

  “Are you leaving us already?”

  Kimber glanced up at Kal, the doorman, and flashed him a smile followed by a pout. “Alas, my time here has come to an end, at least for now.”

  “My days will be less bright,” Kal replied. “Are you heading back home?”

  “I am,” Kimber answered.

  “We’re going to miss seeing your pretty face around here,” Kal added quickly.

  “I’ll miss you guys, as well.” Kimber thought fondly of Kal’s counterpart, Raheem, who worked the evening shift. Kal stepped to the corner and raised his hand for a taxi, but Kimber stopped him. “That’s okay, I’m going to run across the street for a minute before I head out.”

  Kal held up the traffic so she could cross the busy street and head toward the building the American had mentioned. The thirty-story tower didn’t stand as tall as its neighbor across the street but maybe it did hold something more powerful than the hotel. The secret to the tiaras.

  As she entered the building, a breeze of air conditioning was a welcome contrast with the temperature outside. Flying while sweaty was not something Kimber wanted to do. It was bad enough when other people did it; she didn’t want to be a hypocrite.

  Kimber scanned the directory of names, reading the English version next to the Arabic. She found a jeweler on the third floor and headed toward the elevator, but not before noticing the Assadi last name in English. Her heart began to race. Her journalistic senses were telling her she was on to something. Confident, Kimber pressed the elevator button and took a deep breath. She was about to uncover one of the biggest stories in her pageant career.

  * * *

  “You’re looking pretty soft there.” Dario cocked his head to the side for a better view on his laptop’s monitor of his twin brother “How much did you eat while you were at Dom’s?”

  Wiping his hand down the face similar to Dario’s own, Darren frowned, then groaned. “I ate everything, including the baby’s food.”

  Their older brother’s wife, Waverly Crowne, had recently given birth to a baby girl, Maddie, and Dario couldn’t wait to hold her and also see her siblings, his niece and nephew. Twins Justin and Ariana were three, a fun age. The Crowne family had gathered for Thanksgiving while Dario was still away in Dubai working on an urban planning proposal, which he’d turned in this morning. Biting the inside of his cheek, Dario picked up a green tennis ball and tossed it in the air. He hated the idea of missing out on family time.

  “Are you trying to show me how fit you are?” Darren asked with a droll sigh. “I swear I can see your heartbeat in that tight-ass shirt you’re wearing.”

  “I am just pointing out that you look like the Before ad in a gym membership, while I am the result of fine fitness.” After making a catch, Dario chuckled and flexed his biceps as further proof through the fabric of his gray-striped oxford shirt.

  “Whatever,” Darren said. “I’ll hit the gym tonight.”

  “If you wait, I’ll be there after dinner. I need to make sure we retain our title as Kings of the Rocking Around the Christmas Ring at Christmas Chaos this year.” Dario scanned the contents of the manila envelope on his desk and checked all the signatures. His cellphone sat upside down on the desk, ignored as it buzzed away.

  “Yeah,” Darren grumbled, “don’t remind me. I’ve already caught the fire department jogging through the town like a military troop, cadence and all.”

  Two years ago, Dario and Darren had created the twisted underground holiday, Christmas Chaos, held at their older brother’s ranch house. It was a Yuletide-themed mashup of American Gladiator and Fight Club. Rule numb
er one: tell no one about Christmas Chaos. They invited most of the single parents they knew, some they’d dated, so they could take out their frustrations during candy cane duels, obstacle races and on the Santa piñata. It had become more competitive when they invited the guys they hung out with at the gym. Some of the guests weren’t even parents, just alone at Christmas. There was a lot of aggression for parents to work out when they didn’t have their kids over the holiday break. Dario and Darren didn’t have children of their own, but they were single. Christmas Chaos was a way to get everyone together and have fun.

  The black rectangular phone continued to vibrate against the solid black oak wood desk. A red light blinked on his office phone, and through the window of his closed door, he could see that his secretary, Ilaria, was pressing her face against the glass to peer inside.

  Darren blinked and looked upward. “Is someone trying to get in touch with you?”

  “I think so.”

  “I can let you go,” offered Darren.

  Dario had been out of the country for almost a year, but he’d made sure he made time for his family. That meant no interruptions, and typically his staff adhered. “I’m not sure, hang on a second.” Dario turned his attention away from the laptop and waved Ilaria into his office.

  “Sir,” Ilaria said meekly, “I know this is your family time, but you said to interrupt you if it was a particular emergency.”

  “I did?”

  “Sir.” This time Ilaria cleared her throat, then stretched her dark eyes wide. “She’s here.”

  “Who’s here?” Darren asked through the monitor.

  Not sure whether to answer him, Ilaria shifted her feet from side to side. “Miss Reyes.”

  Dario’s heart lurched in his chest. The last time he’d seen her, she’d made it clear she needed to focus on her career. Guilt still riddled him for causing her to miss that phone call for the internship she wanted. But what caused him more pain was how she’d left without looking back or saying goodbye.