Billionaires in New York Boxed Set: Billionaires in the City Books 1-3

by Laura Burton

  “She’s so sorry she couldn’t be here,” David lied. He was grateful that Edward didn’t retort or make a sound.

  “Hold onto that girl. She’s got fire in her belly and eyes only for you.”

  “Grandmother––”

  “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t you worry. I know all about the plan.”

  David looked up at Charles with surprise and glanced over at Edward who smiled at him. Why is he smiling?

  “David, my dear, do you think I would be so cruel?”

  “I’m sorry? I don’t follow–” David was shocked to the core. He’d refused to allow himself to be truly angry with his grandmother and her sudden shift in the will. After all, she was his grandmother. But had she really deceived him?

  Grandmother Marks coughed and wheezed.

  “It was her plan all along.”

  He glanced at his co-conspirator father.

  “Mission: get David a nice wife,” she whispered with a weak smile.

  “But how––”

  “David,” his father started, “you’re in your thirties and you still haven’t even plucked up the courage to date. Your grandmother––”

  “––did not want to die knowing her sweet grandson was doomed to be alone,” Grandmother Marks finished for Charles. David looked at everyone in turn. Edward shrugged and laughed; Catherine was smiling at him compassionately. Only Charles looked apologetic.

  “You were all in on it?” David asked. Edward raised his hand in defeat.

  “You got me. Though I’m insulted you think I would dissolve the family business just to make a new Las Vegas, catering to only rich people.” The room laughed quietly at the absurdity of the idea.

  “I can’t believe the lengths you’ve all gone to get me married,” David said mostly to himself.

  “We knew you would only be pushed if there was a worthy cause, and losing the family business and all we’ve worked so hard to achieve…,” Charles explained evenly.

  “But I don’t understand, when the press came out with that story….”

  “What were we supposed to do? We were with guests when the news came on, so we had to keep in character and not let out what we’d done. We still have no idea how that information got out. Our attorneys have sworn they didn’t break confidentiality.’”

  “But why couldn’t you have just explained… Emily won’t return my calls. She’s––she’s––”

  “Humiliated? She wonders if any of it was real,” Catherine spoke up in her sing-song voice. She placed a hand gently on David’s arm. “You need to give her some time. Then go to her, David, and prove to her how you truly feel, and honestly—” She looked over at the family with a slight reprimand before continuing. “—beg her for forgiveness.”

  “But how?”

  “You’ll work it out,” Grandmother Marks said in a raspy voice. David looked at her with tears in his eyes. She didn’t want him to be alone, so she’d orchestrated a whole plan to manipulate him to pursue Emily. He battled equally with being annoyed and touched by the ridiculous ruse.

  “Promise me, David,” she said, he leaned in close to hear her quiet voice. “Go and get her back. She loves you, and you love her. I always know these things.”

  David took a deep breath and nodded.

  “I promise.”

  It was a mixture of emotions swirling in his chest. Horrendous grief at saying goodbye to his grandmother, who had just proven that she always had his best interest at heart. And the bubble of hope that he could explain everything to Emily and persuade her to come back to him.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Three Months Later

  Emily missed David. She wanted to hate him, and for three months, she resisted the temptation to call him. She spent most of the time hidden from the public eye, waiting for the media storm to die down, and hadn’t even gone into work, but worked from home securing the businesses finances.

  The truth was, she was not innocent in this situation. They both had their own agendas. The fact that David’s family had set her up was what made her feel so nauseous. And David went along with it. He claimed he didn’t know. He left messages for her every day and begged for her forgiveness.

  She wanted to. If only she could ignore his family and start over with David, run away to their own island and start a new life. She ached to be with him. Now, so much time had passed, she wasn’t sure how. But one thing was certain, she needed to make things right.

  Emily stood outside an apartment building in the rain holding a black umbrella and buzzed the number written down on a piece of paper in her hand.

  “Who is it?” the voice crackled out of the speaker.

  “Emily Stewart,” she shouted over the noise of the rain.

  Silence.

  “I’m not angry with you. In fact, I came here to apologize.”

  No one answered, but the buzz told Emily she was being granted entry. Emily pulled her umbrella down and shook the rain from it as she walked through the front door. Climbing the steps, she thought about what she was going to say. After a few days of self-pity, consuming far too much ice cream, and watching endless hours of Friends, the sadness came in ebbs and flows. She wondered who tipped off the press. Surely, none of David’s staff would have sold him out, and the only other person who knew what was really happening was in this building.

  She stopped in front of door 111 and knocked. The door opened to reveal a slight woman standing with her arms crossed, and with her a scrawny ginger-haired male, who looked barely eighteen.

  He must be the boyfriend.

  “I know it was you, Jaqueline,” Emily said softly. Jaqueline glanced at the young man next to her and shifted uncomfortably.

  “I’m not going to apologize, if that’s what you’re after.” Emily was again surprised at the strength in her “meek” assistant. Jaqueline had more backbone than she’d ever given her credit for.

  “No, I want to thank you,” Emily replied. Her words sent Jaqueline’s eyebrows flying up to the roof.

  “Thank me?”

  “If you didn’t do what you did, I would never have found out about––”

  “––about what?”

  Emily bit her lip. It was probably best not to divulge any information, not to someone who had a record of selling gossip to the highest bidder.

  “You helped me to realize that I owe you an apology. I haven’t treated you very well,” Emily said carefully. Jaqueline lowered her defensive stance and unfolded her arms. Emily took that as a bid to continue.

  “I said you could start taking on clients, then I told you to move to LA with me.”

  “And you told her to break up with me,” the ginger-male retorted, his nostrils flared as he spoke. Emily inclined her head at him.

  “I’m sorry for that as well.” She turned back to Jaqueline, who lifted a hand up to stop her.

  “Not only that, you left Julian in charge. Do you know how awful he is to work with? The sexist comments… the leering. He makes all of us feel uncomfortable in the office. You had to have known.”

  Emily stared at her open-mouthed for a moment. In all the years she had worked with Julian, he had always been professional with her.

  “Honestly, I should have realized, but I just thought Julian was acting like Julian. Why didn’t you––”

  “––tell you?” Jaqueline added, she scoffed. “You don’t listen. Not to anyone. Do you know I’m going to miss my brother’s wedding because Julian threatened to fire me if I took the time off? Oh, and he hired me, by the way, but not as the consultant, but as his assistant!”

  Emily swallowed. How could all of this happen in her company––the business she built up from the very beginning––and she had no idea about any of it?

  “I’m so sorry. I will speak to Julian.”

  Jaqueline closed her mouth and folded her arms again. Apparently lost for words, but still irritated.

  “I’m going to make this right, I promise.”

  �
�And what about LA?”

  Emily shook her head. “No more LA. Looks like New York needs me more,” she said heavily. Jaqueline stared at her, apparently searching for any sign of a joke.

  “Do you want to come in?” Jaqueline asked tentatively. Emily shook her head.

  “No, I have some loose ends to tie up. But I hope you will accept these as a token of my appreciation for all you do.” She held out a brown paper bag. Jaqueline peered inside the bag and grinned at her.

  “You seem to wear them a lot, and I wanted to find a way to show you I’m being sincere, when I say I’m sorry.” She took a nervous breath and studied Jaqueline’s look of surprise. “I’ve been invited to Estelle Magazine’s annual charity event, and to prove I mean what I say. I’ll be wearing my own pair underneath my gown.”

  Emily pulled out a pair of pink Crocs from her purse. Jaqueline stifled a laugh and her cheeks flushed with color.

  “Go to your brother’s wedding.” Emily smiled at her. “Let me deal with Julian.”

  Emily walked into her office and stared blankly as her brain tried to register what she was seeing. A tall, muscular man dressed in a grey suit sat at Emily’s desk. The sun reflected off his bald head and he flashed his white teeth as he rested a hand on the knee of his young assistant.

  “Get out,” Emily said curtly. The young woman jumped up and ran out of the room. The man folded his arms and sat back in the chair until it squeaked under his weight.

  “I wasn’t expecting you in today,” he said smoothly.

  Emily dropped her bag on the white couch and rested her hands on his hips.

  “Julian, I came to discuss some serious accusations with you. But coming in to see you leering over that young girl is enough for me. You’re fired.”

  Julian’s smile faded and he got to his feet.

  “Now hold on,” he said in a warning tone. “You can’t just fire me.”

  “Well, I can speak to the women in this office and allow them to file a sexual assault claim. We could go to the police and then court, and then I could fire you. Would you prefer that?”

  Julian looked at Emily with narrow eyes.

  “What’s gotten into you today?”

  Emily marched over to the window and looked out at New York. She gazed at the hustle and bustle of the people and traffic below. She smiled at the near-constant shrill of horns, despite the “no honking” signs littered along the streets.

  “Some common sense has gotten into me,” she replied as she turned back to him.

  “What about your dream?”

  “That’s the beauty of dreams, Julian. You can wake up and realize they were not what you wanted.” Emily leaned over the desk and placed her hands on the papers.

  “All these years we’ve worked together, and I never realized how much of a creep you are.”

  “Come on, you didn’t even see anything. Nothing happened.”

  “Really? Is that what Lana is going to say when I ask how you treat her? Is it true you told Jaqueline she couldn’t take the day off to go to her brother’s wedding?”

  Julian’s lips were thin as his jaw hardened.

  “Give me a month to find another job.”

  “Fine, but you’re not working here. Take it as sick leave.”

  Julian glared at her as they stood across from each other in a silent stand-off.

  “You know it’s more than fair,” Emily added, her brow raised. Julian lifted his head and looked down at her with a hint of amusement.

  “Fair enough.” Without a moment’s hesitation, he marched out of the room and closed the door behind her. Emily slumped her shoulders and collapsed into the chair with relief. She felt like she had been holding her breath the entire exchange.

  Standing with her coat raised over her head, trying to shield her gown from getting drenched in the pouring rain, Emily fumbled with her phone to call a cab. This was the biggest event of the year, an opportunity to really get her reputation out there. She might even get to meet Estelle herself. Rumors had it that there would be a red carpet, and all of the important celebrities would be there. She imagined the clients who would be jumping on board once they saw her on TV. It was a perfect networking event to pick up her mood and focus her nervous energy on something productive. She finally found the occasion to wear her Vivienne Westwood gown. It hugged her curves and draped around her body so beautifully, she looked like a human candlestick. She curled her hair and let it hang loose in waves. As promised, underneath the designer dress, she wore pink crocs. To her surprise, she found them to be the most comfortable shoes she had ever worn. She decided she would always keep a pair under her desk at work.

  She got into the cab and looked out of the window as the taxi driver pulled away. She wondered what David was doing. He was never far from her mind, though she often tried to push him back into the corner of her brain. The image of his face stung her heart. She wished there was a way the two of them could have worked things out. Technically they were still married, so she’d have to pick up the phone eventually. She couldn’t believe what a fool she had been. How she could fall for someone so quickly, and how had she naively thought they could make it work, when their whole relationship was built on a foundation of lies.

  The cab pulled up at a side street near Central Park. Emily paid the driver and slinked out of the cab with ease. The rain had stopped, and the damp sidewalks sparkled under the streetlamps. Pop music flooded the air and the beat of the bass guitar thumped in Emily’s ears as she followed the noise. She pushed her shoulders back and swayed her hips as she walked confidently across the street and entered Central Park.

  Then she saw it. The cameras flashed endlessly, and a constant stream of black limousines pulled up, celebrities exiting the cars, waving to the crowd, then walking down the red carpet rolled out onto the grass.

  “Emily Stewart, Find My Companion,” Emily said to the bodyguard at the beginning of the red carpet. He checked his tablet and gave a nod. A small woman handed Emily a lanyard with a VIP badge on it.

  “Follow the carpet to the main stage, and you’ll be shown to your seat,” she said in a heavy New York accent. Emily nodded and stepped out onto the carpet.

  “Look!” Cries from the crowd alerted Emily. She wondered if a superstar had just arrived. Cameras flashed even faster, and Emily stood in awe of the blinding flashes. Once her eyes adjusted to the lights, she noticed the cameras were not facing the red carpet, but to the sky instead.

  “What on earth?” she whispered under her breath. A hot air balloon hovered in the sky; the blast of the gas was so loud she had to cover her ears. The crowd of people stepped back to give the balloon more space as it slowly lowered and came to a stop with a bump, onto the grass.

  “Who is it? Who is it?” The reporters jabbed each other and wrestled to get a good look at who was inside. A tall figure approached the edge of the basket and as the gas fired again, Emily saw him.

  David Marks.

  “Emily,” he called out as he hopped over the edge of the basket and hurried to her. The crowd was going crazy. Emily could hardly hear his voice. She looked wildly around her at the commotion he’d caused, then her eyes landed back on David’s bright eyes.

  “I know you find it hard to trust me, or believe anything I say. Because I lied to you,” he shouted. “The truth is, we were both lied to, and we lied to each other. But I’m done with lies. I want to tell you everything.” Emily looked sheepishly around as David held out his hands to her.

  “I had an imaginary friend named Twix until I was twelve. He was a deer.” Emily resisted the smile threatening to take over her face. “I had to have hypnosis to help me sleep again after Edward forced me to watch a horror movie about a clown.” The crowd chuckled and the reporters were still taking photos. Emily wondered how many photos they could possibly need. “I used to tell people that I designed the Eiffel Tower.”

  Emily snorted. “Who would believe that?”

  “My grandmother died. But not before
she told me the truth.”

  “And what is that?” Emily shouted back, trying to be heard over the roar of the crowd and the incessant flash of cameras. He lowered down on bended knee.

  “That you can’t fake love. It happens whether you like it or not. And I can’t go on another moment without asking you, truthfully. Emily Stewart, will you be my wife?”

  The crowd erupted into cheers and the reporters were going wild. Fighting to get the best picture and people were chanting in the background.

  They were already married. Emily looked up at the starry sky and her gaze hovered over the balloon. She realized it had huge sunflowers on it. Emily looked down at David to see him holding a small box with his grandmother’s ring. His gaze burned into her. She was overwhelmed. The music thumped against her temples, and the screeching crowds sent her senses into a frenzy. She wasn’t sure if it was David’s speech, or the overwhelming chaos around them, but she lowered all her defenses and nodded her head.

  “All right, for real, this time?” She beamed. David pushed the ring onto her finger and lifted her up into his arms.

  “Just promise me one thing,” Emily said as she hovered near his lips.

  “Anything.”

  “That we will never lie to each other again.”

  David grinned and nodded like an excitable puppy. He swooped her around in a circle and they kissed. She closed her eyes and thought that somewhere there were fireworks going off, cheers and screams filled the air. Emily and David broke apart and laughed at the crowd as they waved to the reporters, hand in hand.

  “Do you want to find a seat?” David asked.

  Emily’s head was spinning. Suddenly, the idea of schmoozing with a load of celebrities didn’t seem so appealing. Emily pointed at the hot air balloon.

  “You know, I’ve never been in one of those before,” she said. David tightened his grip on her and appeared to follow her line of thought. Then he walked her to the balloon and lifted her over the edge of the basket. The Vivienne Westwood gown draped away from her feet and she was certain the reporters got several shots of the bright pink crocs. She didn’t care.