by Score, Lucy
“Oh, because that always works out so well,” I said.
“I am sensing sarcasm,” Cam mused.
“There you are!”
Jenny, her suit rumpled and hair a mess of flyaways, pulled up a chair.
“Ooh! Update time,” Luna said, wiggling her fingers enthusiastically.
“Let me start at the top,” Jenny said, flinging open a binder on the table.
“Pour the woman a drink,” Derek suggested.
“I wouldn’t say no,” Jenny said. “First things first. Your patent isn’t complete, but it’s actionable enough. We can prove that the formula La Sophia is shopping belongs to Flawless and you have all of the data from the beginning. There’s no way they can replicate that in time for the subpoena I’ve arranged. They have forty-eight hours to produce all of their ‘research.’ Once they fail to do so, then we can move forward with legal action, and the SEC can get up their asses.”
She flipped the page with gusto.
“Next item. Did you know that the patent for your wrinkle reducer is in your name, not Flawless’s?” Jenny asked.
I bit my lip, and Derek laughed softly beside me.
“It might have occurred to me,” I admitted.
“In order for Flawless to continue to sell those products, they’ll have to buy the patent from you.”
“What a shame,” Derek said.
“I’d be open to an even trade,” I said. “I give them the wrinkle reducer if they give me the scar treatment.” Derek squeezed my leg in approval under the table.
“Consider it done,” Jenny said. “The SEC is not inclined to allow an IPO at this time. Not with an investigation into Lita pending. The earliest it could be approved is first quarter of next year.”
“Serves those ungrateful shits right,” Daisy said derisively.
“To ungrateful shits!” Luna said, raising her glass. Luna was a lovely lightweight.
“Speaking of investigations, Lita will face charges,” Jenny continued. “A butt-ton of them. In my professional opinion, if she went this far, there are other things we didn’t catch her on. But the SEC might.”
“Butt-ton!” Daisy cheered.
“How about my dear brother?” I asked.
“Well, he tried to convince your father to file a lawsuit against Mr. Price here for, and I quote, ‘rearranging his face’ and Jane for making him ‘piss his pants.’ But your father wasn’t inclined. In fact, he called the police himself and handed Byron Stanton the Third over to uniformed officers and then called a divorce lawyer.”
I choked on my Bloody Mary. It looked as though fresh starts were happening everywhere.
“You do good work, Jenny,” I said, blotting my mouth with a napkin.
“I’m very, very expensive. I’m glad you can still afford me.”
“This calls for champagne,” I said. I kissed Derek on the cheek and slid out of the booth. At the bar, I ordered a few bottles and a cake. I wanted cake today.
“Celebrating something?”
I turned to the woman next to me and nearly slipped off my stool. It was one of the romance novelists.
“Y-yes,” I sputtered.
I’d just had a showdown with a board of directors, a physical altercation with my nemesis, and now I was tongue-tied over speaking to a woman in yoga pants and a Tequila Tacos and Naps shirt.
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
“Congratulations, whatever it is. I love a happy ending,” she said, fingers flying over the keyboard of her laptop.
“Here comes mine, now,” I said as Derek approached.
“Hmm, chiseled jaw covered in stubble. Carelessly worn suit. Ooh. Eyes like the deepest point in the Caribbean.”
“I like to think of them as a glacier blue,” I told her.
“Glacier. Nice.” Her fingers danced over the keyboard.
“I’m standing right here,” Derek said.
“And we’re sitting right here appreciating you,” the novelist said. She knocked back the rest of her drink and signaled for another one. “I’m suddenly feeling inspired.”
“Good luck,” I told her.
“You, too,” she said without looking up from her screen. “You guys got any tacos on the menu?” she asked the bartender.
I took the first open bottle of champagne and slid off the stool.
Derek snaked his arms around me.
“What do you say you and I take that bottle and sneak off to the bathroom?”
“Bathrooms are kind of gross. Maybe try the rooftop terrace since it’s closed until dinner?” the writer suggested.
“Come on, darling,” Derek said, pulling me toward the stairs. “Let’s go find our happy ending.”
Behind us, my friends, my circle, was still toasting.
“To Derek, I’m so glad I didn’t have to junk punch you.”
“To Derek!”
Epilogue
Emily
“I’ve got some papers for you to review when you have a moment, love.” The warm affection in Derek’s voice drew my attention away from the microscope I was glued to.
“This is a nice surprise,” I said, lifting my lips for a kiss for my sexy, smart, well-dressed, devastatingly handsome boyfriend. It was a Saturday morning, or at least it had been two hours ago, I winced, noting the time on the clock. A beautiful, hot day outside, and I was happily toiling over a blood sample and new, life-changing data.
“It’s almost quitting time,” he said, dropping a neat stack of legal documents next to me on the stainless steel work table. “I thought I’d pick you up and we could head to the beach bar for a late lunch. Maybe finish the afternoon off with a naked swim and drinks at home?”
The man knew how to woo me away from my work like no other.
“That sounds like perfection,” I said, rising from the stool and slipping my arms around his neck. “What’s wrong?”
He looked… nervous? A nervous Derek was a suspicious Derek.
“What are you up to?” I demanded. “Did you steal the Porsche keys again?”
He laughed, blue eyes twinkling and it gave me a start to know that soon, I might know someone else with his beautiful eyes.
“You’re a suspicious one, aren’t you?” he said, stroking a hand affectionately over my hair. I’d pulled it back in a short stub to keep it out of my way while I ran tests and chewed over data.
“You’re the one standing there like you’ve got a secret,” I pointed out.
“Maybe my secret is in those documents,” he prodded.
With a sigh, I released my hold on him. “This better not be another speaking engagement contract.”
Six months after I left Flawless and after Lona’s in-depth, behind-the-scenes article came out, I was still swatting away offers for speeches and interviews. But I was far too busy readying AHA’s blood test for its phase one clinical trial.
To me, the past was in the past. The disgraced and under investigation Lita had left town and the last Derek’s research team had told me was busy conning Merritt Van Winston into marriage. My brother, Trey, was getting ready for his fraud trial. His new girlfriend, actress Zoey Grace, was fronting the money for his legal fees because our parents were embroiled in their own divorce proceedings.
“Emily, darling, would I waste your time with that?” Derek asked dryly.
“Yes. You would.”
“It’s not a speaking engagement. It’s a merger. An important one. And there’s one thing missing.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a black velvet box and placed it on top of the papers.
My heart skipped a beat.
Marriage. Marriage to Derek. Another layer of partnership. Was I ready? Was he? Did he know my lovely little secret? Was that why?
“Before you overanalyze this to death, read the agreement,” he said, nudging the papers and ring box closer to me.
With shaking, careful fingers, I picked up the jeweler’s box and set it carefully on the table top.
“It’s not going to
bite,” he teased me.
“This is big, Derek.”
“That’s what she said.”
“You need to take that back immediately because I am not recounting that to our children when they ask how we got engaged,” I warned him.
“You can’t say yes already, not without at least reading the agreement.”
I skimmed the first few sentences. “Derek, this is a prenup.”
Had I finally found the limit to the man’s perfection? Was he a solid shoulder to lean on, a best friend to be counted on, a maestro of orgasms, but a horrible proposer of marriage?
He leaned on the work table, the picture of casual confidence in one of the many refined suits that now hung in our closet in Bluewater. “It would appear so.”
“Are you proposing to me with a prenup? Because if so, I really expected something more stylish.”
“You were expecting my proposal?” he asked, eyebrows winging up in innocence.
“I woke up two months ago with you measuring my ring finger.”
“Read the agreement, Emily,” he insisted.
“You better have something pretty great up that tailored sleeve of yours,” I teased. “Or else I’m going to tell everyone that you’re only human after all.”
Helpfully, he shoved the papers upward until they were an inch from my nose. “Read, please.”
I cleared my throat, choosing a section at random.
“Both parties agree that marital disputes will be settled in the ring,” I read with a laugh. “The ring?”
“No hitting below the belt, love.” His eyes weren’t just warm, they were scorching. “Keep going.”
With a slightly shakier voice, I pressed on. “Both parties agree to do everything in their power to love, honor, and support the other including but not limited to date nights, enjoying occasional meals during which no work is discussed by either party, counseling or mediation if needed if conflicts aren’t settled in the ring.”
“Derek promises to keep annoying business and social functions to a minimum for Emily.”
“Emily promises to always let Derek cut her hair.”
“Derek promises to fill Emily’s dining room table on holidays,” I read, my voice breaking. I loved this man beyond words.
He took the papers from me. “Emily promises to always tell Derek when she’s stressed and what she needs from him,” he read, with one hand stroking my back.
I blinked back tears.
“Both parties agree to do whatever it takes to stay together and to fulfill each other’s dreams,” he said, his voice raspy now.
“This will never hold up in court,” I said on a choked laugh.
“It’s not for court. It’s for a much stricter judge,” Derek said, drawing me into his arms. “Us.”
“I love you, Derek,” I whispered.
“And I love you, Emily. You continue to dazzle me every day. Now, would you like to see your signing bonus?”
He plucked the box from the table.
“Wait,” I said. “I have a signing bonus of my own.”
“What’s that, love?”
“How do you feel about being a father?”
“I’ll be thoroughly excited when the time comes,” he promised. “I want a family with you, Emily. I want to raise a new generation of pick-pocketing scientists.”
“Good, because we’re going to get our first crack at parenthood in about thirty-six weeks.”
He blinked.
“What?”
“That’s what I was doing in here today,” I said, gesturing toward the microscope.
His brow furrowed. “Good God. You didn’t make us some sort of test tube clone baby, did you?”
I laughed. “Don’t be an incredibly handsome idiot. I just ran the blood test myself.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” His fingers tightened on my arms. “We’re having a baby?”
I nodded, tears still clouding my vision.
“I think I need to sit down.”
I pushed him into the stool I’d vacated. “Are you all right?” I asked.
He nodded, then kept nodding, stars in his eyes. “What an adventure we’ll have together,” he said. “Of course, we’ll have to sell your Porsche and get a bulletproof minivan.”
“Oh, of course,” I agreed.
He slid his hands inside my lab coat and reverently placed his palms over my stomach. “How do you feel?”
“Elated. Terrified. Surprised. Hungry.”
“How are the intestines?” he asked.
“No troubles since the day we walked out of Flawless,” I said smugly.
“My parents are going to be over the moon to meet this little one,” he said, gaze lifting to meet mine.
“At least we can count on a positive reaction from one set of parents,” I quipped. I had a tenuous truce with my mother that no longer required me to bend to her whims and revoked her right to criticize me. We still didn’t spend holidays together. But that was just fine with me.
“Maybe your mother will welcome our impending nuptials and baby news as a distraction from trying to rake your father over the coals in divorce court.”
“Unlikely. But Bethenny and Ed will commission a nursery designer,” I predicted.
“And Jane will buy him or her a teeny tiny stun gun,” Derek said, a smile spreading across his handsome face.
“And Cam, Luna, and Daisy will be weird and wonderful aunts,” I said.
“Our baby will know nothing but love, Emily,” he promised me, his voice breaking on the word baby.
“Are you happy, Price?” I asked him.
“Dazzled.” He opened the jewelry box and then I was the dazzled one.
In the facets and shine of precious gem and metal, I saw our future. Our life together would sparkle.
“That is a big one,” I breathed.
“Hush, love. Not in front of the baby,” he teased, sliding the ring on my finger. “I’m of course assuming your answer is a yes.”
I glanced from ring to papers and back again. “Do you have a pen?”
Want More From Emily and Derek?
Not ready to be done with Derek and Emily yet? Me neither! Check out Derek’s swoony grand gesture after ten years of marriage, kids, and mogul-ing.
TAP HERE: Gimmie This Scene Now Please!
Need more Bluewater Billionaires in your life? Turn the page!
Up Next
Emily’s BFFs get their own happily ever afters!
Cameron is reluctantly saddled with an overprotective bodyguard in Claire Kingsley’s The Mogul and the Muscle.
Luna loses the public’s adoration after a corporate scandal and there’s only one man—a big, bearded, dog-rescuing biker—who can help her save it all in Kathryn Nolan’s Wild Open Hearts.
Nightlife-loving Daisy is forced into the mom life when she inherits a baby… and the baby’s other broody, serious, sexy guardian in Pippa Grant’s Crazy for Loving You.
Author’s Note to the Reader
Dear Reader,
Welcome to Bluewater where the women are billionaires, the alligators are prosthetically-enhanced, and the men are… well, what can I say about Derek? *swoons onto couch*
This project was born over a year ago in a Facebook chat when Pippa Grant said, “I’m so tired of all the billionaires being men.” And here we are. Now, you have three more lady billionaire stories to look forward to! Kathryn Nolan, Claire Kingsley, Pippa Grant, and I had a really entertaining time bringing this world and these women to life. So much so that we had to put ourselves into the stories. Hehe.
If you loved Emily and Derek’s story, please feel free to shout your love to all your bookworm friends about it. Or you could review it on your favorite platform! Ready for more Bluewater? Get ready to get billionaire busy!
The Mogul and the Muscle by Claire Kingsley
Wild Open Hearts by Kathryn Nolan
Crazy for Loving You by Pippa Grant
Xoxo,
Lucy
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br /> About the Author
Lucy Score is a Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author. She grew up in a literary family who insisted that the dinner table was for reading and earned a degree in journalism. She writes full-time from the Pennsylvania home she and Mr. Lucy share with their obnoxious cat, Cleo. When not spending hours crafting heartbreaker heroes and kick-ass heroines, Lucy can be found on the couch, in the kitchen, or at the gym. She hopes to someday write from a sailboat, or oceanfront condo, or tropical island with reliable Wi-Fi.
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Acknowledgments
•Claire Kingsley, Kathryn Nolan, and Pippa Grant for making Bluewater amazing!
•Joyce and Tammy for keeping me on track and out of the fetal position.
•Kari March Designs for being a cover designing genius.
•Dawn, Amanda, and Jessica for your editing expertise. Thanks for making me look good!
•#TeamLucy and Binge Readers Anonymous for being the best human beings ever.
•Lin-Manuel Miranda for Hamilton.
•Salsa and guacamole for being the perfect taco accessories.
•Michelle and Karen from The Inn BoonsBoro for being the best BFFs a gal could ask for!
Lucy’s Titles