Cooper: A Clean Billionaire Romance
Christina Benjamin
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
Epilogue
Also by Christina Benjamin
About the Author
Donovan: A Clean Billionaire Romance
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
Copyright © 2019 by Christina Benjamin
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Crown Atlantic Publishing
Version 1.1
April 2019
Chapter 1
Cooper
“How about here, sir?” Suzette holds the frame against the white painted wall in a spot where the fading summer sun shines in through the open window behind my desk. “Look at how handsome you are in this magazine cover. I can’t get over it!”
The thirty-year-old mother of two giggles and winks at me when I roll my eyes. She’s talking to me like she would one of her little boys, despite the fact that I’m only younger than her by two years.
I dismiss her enthusiasm with a wave of the hand. “You know how much they touch those things up. The picture barely looks like me. My tie wasn’t even red when I did that photoshoot, it was black.”
Suzette just shakes her head, ignoring me as she inches the frame a little to the right. “Maybe here would be better? In the evening light like this, you look quite scholarly. Like a professor or something.”
“I’m not a professor, Suzette, I’m a CEO,” I grumble. “Leave it there and I’ll hang it later.” I wave my hand, dismissing her constant fussing.
She’s been trying to find the perfect spot for the frame for a good forty-five minutes. There’s no need to spend so much time on office décor, despite the fact that it’s office décor with my face on it. We had more important matters to focus our energy on.
Suzette nods, hiding a smirk. With a pencil, my assistant lightly marks the wall where the corners of the heavy wooden frame should be placed then sets it down on the floor with a quiet thud. Stepping back, her eyes trail over the walls of my office, perched high up on the thirtieth floor of my very own skyscraper. An abundance of certificates, magazine covers and awards are already hung proudly, as well as quite a few framed photos of Rosco, my silver-furred Husky.
Suzette smiles when she focuses on a photo of him, tongue lolling from the corner of his mouth and large snout tilted happily toward the sky. “Your dog is so cute. My boys have been begging for one but we just don’t have the time. I think I would go insane if I had to walk a dog and keep the kids alive. Parenting is hard enough.” She turns toward me, grinning in a tired but gratified way. “I just keep telling myself if I work hard enough, they’ll end up like you, successful and smart.”
“That’s nice of you to say,” I offer uncomfortably, unsure how to react to being a role model to children I’ve never met. Especially when I didn’t have very good role models myself as a child.
Unfortunately, my parents aren’t where I got my famous drive and ambition. If anything, the only thing I inherited from them was a fear of commitment. Their toxic marriage ended in divorce when I was sixteen, but it seems I still haven’t healed from being used as a bargaining tool to inflict pain against each other. It led to my early emancipation and continued aversion to personal relationships—something Suzette endlessly tries to remedy by setting me up with hordes of her just-so-happens-to-be-single friends.
The woman can’t take a hint. If she wasn’t the best damn assistant I’d ever had I wouldn’t put up with her pushy personality. Currently, she’s laughing at my expense, taking in my stiffness with delight, before gesturing back to the framed magazine cover.
“It really is a remarkable photo,” Suzette purrs. “You should let me show it to some of my girlfriends.”
I roll my eyes and stare at the massive frame now leaning against my wall.
‘30 Billionaires Under 30!’ the headline reads, my face proudly smirking out from the glossy cover. I inspect my photographed tie, trying to pick out any fine black stitches that might’ve been missed in photo-shopping it red, but it’s flawlessly edited. It’s perfect enough to make me almost doubt that I’d been wearing a black one tie, despite the fact that I’d never owned a red tie in my life.
“I read your interview yesterday, Cooper. I can’t believe I’ve been working here for two years and I never knew the whole story. I knew you built Townsend Tech from the ground up but I didn’t know your family had nothing to do with it. I always assumed . . .” She trails off abruptly, clearing her throat. “Well, you know,” she settles on saying uncertainly.
I appraise her, noting the anxious twitch of her lips. “That I had a trust fund to fall back on if I failed?” I reply, suppressing a smile of my own as I complete her thought.
She sheepishly nods and offers an apologetic shrug. “I had no idea that you started this tech firm with nothing more than your own grit and determination. It’s so impressive, especially with how young you are.”
“Thanks,” I offer with a smile.
She sidles toward the door, her face clouding. I can tell when she has something to say—something I’m probably not going to like. She clears her throat, hands finding her hips before she slowly winds her way back toward me.
“Yes, Suzette?”
“It’s just, well I had lunch with an old college girlfriend last week. She’s sweet as can be. Went to Yale to get her master’s. She’s a lawyer and super successful. She’s sought after by every divorcee looking to stick it to their cheating husbands.”
“And why does this concern me?” I ask without emotion, trying not to let it strike a nerve.
Suzette may have read the article, but she doesn’t know how nasty my parents’ divorce was and that dating a divorce lawyer is the absolute last thing I’d ever want. So I do what I always do—pretend not to know where my personal assistant is headed with her calculated banter. It’s the same tedious direction every non-business conversation goes—my personal life.
Or lack there of . . .
Suzette clears her throat. “Well, I was just thinking . . . it confuses the heck out of me that she’s single—a clever, ambitious lady like her. And as she was telling me that she just hasn’t been able to find the right guy, you popped up in the back of my head. Like fate. Like it was meant to be—”
“I’m sorry, Suzette, but you know I’m not dating right now. I have too much on my plate. I haven’t had a weekend off in . . . I don’t even know how long. I haven’t celebrated my birthday or even Christmas in just as long. This company needs my constant attention, and the little bits of leftover time that I have go straight to Ro
sco.”
“Yes, but you’ve been saying that for the past two years. You don’t have to work so hard, Cooper. Not anymore. Don’t you see that? You’ve made a hugely successful tech firm that doesn’t need your constant supervision. You have the best managers and accountants and personal assistant,” she pauses to wink and point a thumb at herself before continuing, “that money can buy to help you carry the load now. You need to take some time for yourself.”
Again I shake my head, folding my hands firmly on the desk in front of me. When my mouth forms a hard line, she holds up her palms in surrender.
“I know, I know! Mind my own business. But I had to try,” she mutters quietly. “I don’t want you to end up alone. My husband and kids, I don’t know what I’d do without them. They’re my whole world and my reason for living. I love working here with you but the second I get home, I know that’s where I’m meant to be.”
“You and I are different people, Suzette. You enjoy your family life and I enjoy my business one. Thank you for your concern, but I’m perfectly content.”
I don’t mean to speak with a clipped tone, but I can tell I am by the way her hopeful smile purses into a taut frown.
Still, I’m only speaking the truth.
Between my dog, my colleagues, and my business, I don’t need anyone else. That’s how I’ve always lived and that’s how I plan to continue. I see no reason to change. Not when anyone I date would most likely only be interested in me for my money. And God knows that would end terribly. I’d be right back where I came from, stuck in a loveless marriage, probably with kids who suffered for it.
No, being single is best for me.
Now if only I could get everyone to understand that.
Suzette heaves a sigh that seems to come all the way from the tips of her toes. “Whatever you say.”
“Now,” I begin, glancing down at my watch and then climbing to my feet. I smooth my hands over my suit, making sure the expensive fabric has not a single crease, “I’ve got just enough time to go home and visit Rosco before I return to start the weekend research. You can go on home, Suzette. Enjoy your family.”
“Yes, sir,” she says, watching me with sympathetic eyes as I grab my things and head from the office.
Though I know the staff loves their time off, I’d always appreciated my weekend shifts here in the office. From Monday to Friday the skyscraper is bustling with activity, but on the weekends it becomes much more quiet and peaceful. Sometimes I think I get my best work done on the endless Saturday and Sunday shifts I spend here. The only thing that I truly dislike about being here so often is that my boy Rosco can’t come with me. I’d brought him in once only to have the spunky gray beast chew up one of the business reports I’d spent at least twelve hours working on. I didn’t blame him, Rosco was only bored and acting out at the time, but it did make me realize that he just wasn’t a cubicle puppy.
It’s been almost five years now since I rescued him and he still has so much energy that it feels wrong keeping him cooped up in the office with me when he could be romping around my neighbor’s apartment and being taken for countless walks. I’m lucky to have that sweet old woman just a few stories down from me in my building who happily watches Rosco daily. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
As I make my way down the hallways of my office, my staff greets me eagerly, every single one watching me. They gaze on, awed just by my presence. I’ll never get tired of that. I know most of them have their own dreams of starting a company just like I did and making a ton of money, but the truth of the matter is that hardly any of them will go on to find even a sliver of the success that I have. It takes too much dedication. Too much blood, sweat and tears.
The ones who do make it may even turn out to be my competitors someday. That doesn’t stop me from basking in their admiration and my position as their business idol though. The more inspired my employees are, the harder they’ll work and the more they’ll add to the growth of our shared achievements.
By the time I walk out onto the bustling streets of New York City, the sun has drifted below the line of skyscrapers towering around me. The sidewalks buzz with people heading home at the end of their own long days, eager for Saturday to welcome them. I walk along with them, hands in my pockets, knowing my reprieve will be much shorter. I’m only returning to my penthouse apartment for a few minutes to see Roscoe. Then I’ll be making the familiar trek back to my office.
Suzette’s words linger in my mind as I march along, making me wonder just how long this chaotic life of mine might be sustainable.
My tech firm is all I’ve ever wanted, isn’t it?
I huff a laugh. Of course it is.
But why then do I keep hearing Suzette’s motherly tone ringing between my ears?
“Hello, sir!” the uniformed doorman greets me as I approach my apartment.
He grabs hold of the gold-plated door handle and draws it open, gesturing me inside with a slight bow. I smile at him, skin prickling as the cool breeze of the AC lovingly brushes away the lingering heat of summer.
I make my way to the elevator, stifling a yawn as I shoot upwards in the gold-plated lift. I’ll have to get a coffee on my way back to work. I can already tell my eyelids are going to be feeling heavy by the time midnight comes around and I have enough work to keep me going until at least the early hours tomorrow.
The elevator comes to an easy halt at the middle story of the building, the floor where my dog-watching neighbor lives. Mrs. Donnell and I met shortly after I first moved in. I’d been walking Rosco outside the front of the building when she sauntered right up to him and stroked his head before I had a chance to warn her that he didn’t like strangers. Fortunately, he’d been more than happy to allow her to stroke his ears. The rest just fell into place. We started talking and when she heard how much I worked, she’d offered to look after Rosco.
I think she was lonely, her family living across the country. She told me she’d had a poodle that recently passed and she was eager to hear the sound of four paws scurrying around her home again. At that point, I’d tried a few dog sitting services but they never worked out.
My Rosco is not a dog who trusts often.
He was a year old when I adopted him and had lived a difficult life. He was born into a puppy mill, neglected and downtrodden. He hid under my bed for a week after I brought him home. He’s come a long way since then, but he still remains cautious of strangers. Mrs. Donnell is the first person he let come near him in a long time, and I’d had little choice but to share him with her while I went to work.
When I knock on her door, I hear Rosco’s powerful bark and then a sharp whine when he recognizes my scent beyond the sturdy wood. His feet patter anxiously from side to side as Mrs. Donnell undoes the lock and swings open the door. Rosco launches into the hallway, jumping into my arms.
“Hey, boy!” I laugh, letting him lick my cheeks before calming him down. “Thanks so much, Mrs. Donnell. I’m going to take him up and feed him and then I’ll be back down in like half an hour to—”
“I’m so sorry about this, Cooper,” she interrupts.
For the first time I realize her weathered face is pale. Her eyes are teary and her mouth is pinched. I’ve never seen the jubilant woman look at me in such a way. “I’m not going to be able to watch him tonight, or tomorrow, or possibly for a very long time.”
“What happened?” I ask hurriedly, standing up.
Rosco seems to notice the change in mood, his tail tucking between his legs. He’s quick to pick up emotions. He gives a faint whine, nudging my hand with his powerful snout until I distractedly scratch him.
“It’s my sister. She’s taken ill and I need to fly out to see her. I know this is a huge inconvenience to you. I’m so sorry.”
I think of Suzette and the last time one of her boys had the flu. The woman had come in with bloodshot eyes and worry painted on every line of her face. Though I may not have close family of my own, I know just how I would feel if Rosco
was sick.
“Don’t worry about that,” I answer hastily, despite the fact that my mind is reeling in an attempt to figure out what I’m going to do with Rosco while I’m supposed to be working this weekend.
I certainly can’t take him to the office, but I can’t keep him trapped in my apartment alone the entire time either. It takes an hour to get back to my apartment from the office. If I have to travel back and forth multiple times a day, then it’s hardly worth going in.
Rosco again thrusts his snout into my hand as though he can tell that we’re speaking about him. I crouch down, letting him press his body against my chest. I know that he’ll get fur all over my suit, but that hardly matters at the moment. When Mrs. Donnell sniffles, dabbing at her eyes again, I climb back to my feet and pull her into a hug.
She clings to me, then clears her throat and withdraws a business card from her pocket. “Here, this is the very best dog walker I know. I believe she also pet sits on occasion but I know she gets booked up very quickly. I’ve been calling her all day but I haven’t heard back. She’s probably with another client. Give her a ring and she’ll get back to you, I’m sure.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Donnell. You take care of yourself and your sister, all right? Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”
“Thank you, Cooper,” she sighs, wearily waving goodbye before stepping back.
Mrs. Donnell takes one more look at Rosco, tears filling her eyes before the door swings shut and she leaves my dog and me out in the hall alone.
I look at the business card, whipping out my phone and dialing quickly. When there’s no answer, I hang up and inspect the card again for an address.
Cooper: A Clean Billionaire Romance (The Billionaire Boyfriend Series Book 2) Page 1