Barefoot Bay: The Billionaire's Convenient Secret (Kindle Worlds Novella)
Read Barefoot Bay: The Billionaire's Convenient Secret (Kindle Worlds Novella) Online
Authors: Leigh Duncan
Text copyright ©2016 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Roxanne St. Claire. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Barefoot Bay remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Roxanne St. Claire, or their affiliates or licensors.
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The Billionaire’s Convenient Secret
National Readers’ Choice Award Winning Author
Leigh Duncan
Welcome
to Barefoot Bay Kindle World, a place for authors to write their own stories set in the tropical paradise that I created! For these books, I have only provided the setting of Mimosa Key and a cast of characters from my popular Barefoot Bay series. That’s it! I haven’t contributed to the plotting, writing, or editing of
The Billionaire’s Convenient Secret
. This book is entirely the work of Leigh Duncan, a talented author I handpicked to help launch this new program.
I’ve known Leigh for more than a decade, when we were struggling new writers trying to break into the romance world. Not only is she a dear friend, but she’s a singularly gifted writer whose sweet and emotional stories never fail to twist my heart and leave me wanting more.
The Billionaire’s Convenient Secret
is no different. Be sure to grab a tissue and leave yourself enough time to read straight to the end because I
never
want to put down a Leigh Duncan novel! I hope you love Leigh’s take on Barefoot Bay—just kick off your shoes and fall in love!
Roxanne St. Claire
PS. If you’re interested in the rest of the Barefoot Bay Kindle World novels, or would like to explore the possibility of writing your own book set in my world, stop by
www.roxannestclaire.com
for details!
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The Billionaire’s Convenient Secret
by Leigh Duncan
His secret might save the Super Min, but will the truth cost him his heart?
Tasked to bring a group of mom-and-pop convenience stores under one corporate umbrella, willowy blonde Charlotte Oak seizes the opportunity to secure her future…by any means necessary. But the hunky clerk who refuses to sell the Super Min to her not only blocks Charlie’s path to success, he forces her to take a good, hard look at herself. And she doesn’t like what she sees. Self-made billionaire Josh McLean does, though. When the golden-haired beauty struts into his Aunt Charity’s Super Min, Josh wants nothing more than to wine and dine the newcomer like only the head of a Fortune 500 company can…until he discovers Charlie’s real purpose in coming to Barefoot Bay will destroy the heart and soul of Mimosa Key.
For Rocki
“You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing.”
–
Charlotte to Wilbur in
Charlotte’s Web
by E.B. White
“Got a minute, David?” Charlotte Oak leaned around the door frame to poke her head into her boss’s office. Her heart clenched when the dark-haired man glanced up from his computer monitor without the slightest trace of the proud smile he’d once reserved for her alone.
“I needed to speak with you anyway, Charlie.” Adjusting his glasses, her former mentor all but grimaced before the screen once more captured his attention. “Come in,” he mumbled, distracted. “Shut the door.”
Aware of an involuntary shiver, Charlie took a breath. Something serious had to be afoot in order for David to break the open-door policy he’d instituted after becoming the youngest partner at Waterson and Bash. A year ago, she’d have simply asked him what was going on. But the easy rapport they’d once shared had evaporated. Almost overnight, she’d gone from being a prized protégé to simply one in a staff of twenty junior executives struggling to survive the cutthroat atmosphere of the Mergers and Acquisitions Department.
Since then, she’d racked her brain, trying to put her finger on the exact cause of David’s sudden change of heart. He couldn’t fault her for her work. In the office, she’d been the consummate professional, her attire flawless, her attitude sharp, her tasks completed to perfection. Same as always. She’d done so well, in fact, that she’d been handpicked to represent W&B in Beijing, where her handling of the Makworthy account had gone off without a hitch.
So, no. Whatever had caused the rift, it didn’t have anything to do with work.
Which left the one possibility that struck absolute terror in her heart. David must have somehow realized that her feelings for him went far deeper than she’d let on. But how? Her mama hadn’t raised a homewrecker. Even though Charlie thought she’d die from the sheer ache of wanting David, she’d refused to act. Refused to so much as hint at how deeply she’d fallen for him. Instead, she’d waited, certain his rocky marriage would crash and burn of its own accord.
But that hadn’t happened.
One minute, she’d been dreaming of forever while David complained about his
bee-ach
of a wife. The next, the pair were billing and cooing like newlyweds. Leaving Charlie to nurse a broken heart while she scurried to repair the damage her onetime mentor’s rapidly cooling shoulders were wreaking on her career. Still, it could have been so much worse. If her whispered professions of love and adoration had ever traveled any further than her feather pillow, no doubt she wouldn’t have simply lost her grip on her boss’s coattails. No, she’d be out of a job. And in this market, without David’s solid recommendation, she’d probably wind up using her master’s from Columbia to hoe field peas.
Determined to keep as much distance as possible between her and the red dust of her Georgia childhood, she’d resolved to keep her heart from ever again putting her career at risk. She’d learned her lesson about office love affairs—even unrequited ones—thank you very much. To make sure she never made that mistake again, she’d instituted a new rule—no involvement with anyone connected to her job. Period. For three solid months, she’d politely, but firmly, refused dates with co-workers or clients. She’d sworn off drinks with the gang from the office on Friday nights. She’d even looked away without stealing so much as a second glance at the bulging muscles of the guy who lugged five-gallon water jugs into the office.
Well, maybe a second glance, but no more.
Her new rule had pretty much put the kibosh on the whole dating scene, but it had its upside, too. Instead of wasting her time on men who’d never put a ring on her finger, she’d poured all her efforts into trying to stand out from the crowd of junior executives who jockeyed for position in Central Florida’s most prestigious brokerage firm. When Favor Oil hired W&B to bring all the privately owned convenience stores at its gas stations under its own corporate umbrella, she’d really buckled down. No one at W&B put in more hours than she did. No one worked harder. No one. This was her chance to shine, she’d told herself.
And shine, she had. In a little more than three months, she’d already brought a dozen mom-and-pop stores into the Favor fold. Today, she’d nail down one more, putting her so far ahead of the rest of the pack she was practically a shoo-in for the promotion that, rumor had it, would go to the team’s top performer.
But now, David wanted to talk. Behind closed doors. What was so secret he couldn’t take the chance they’d be overheard? It couldn’t be good news—that swept through W&B’s rabbit warren of office cubicles like wildfire.
Her grip on her travel itinerary tightened as the door whispered shut behind her. While David’s attention turned to the reports on his desk, she crossed the half acre of plush carpet that sucked at the soles of her shoes like wet, red clay. Reaching the leather guest chair opposite the polished mahogany desk, she perched on the edge of her seat as if it were the narrow fence rail she’d sat on as a child. After quite a long wait, her boss finally stopped shuffling papers and steepled his hands over the pages.
“I see the Favor Oil conversion is going well. The team is ahead of schedule, isn’t it?”
She nodded, cautious. “The parent company has offered excellent terms. The response has been good. I’ve closed on a dozen convenience stores myself. This afternoon, I’m headed to Barefoot Bay for lucky number thirteen.” Though all the details had been worked out, Charity Grambling, owner of the Super Mini Mart Convenience Store on Mimosa Key, had insisted on a face-to-face. Otherwise, the contract was a done deal.
“Good.” David nodded absently. “That’s good.”
If so, why was the muscle under his left eye twitching the way it always did when something bothered him? She folded her hands and waited for him to drop the other shoe.
“Your co-workers are doing their part, too. Grant was in here earlier. He’s been working the Fort Pierce area. Says he has another half-dozen stores ready to sign.”
A half dozen?
Charlie gulped. Flipping through her mental notes, she recalled six tiny mom-and-pops owned by a single parent company. Her shoulders softened.
“I’m not worried. I’m still ahead.” She leaned back, satisfied. In a business like theirs, quality always counted more than quantity, and the Super Mini Mart Convenience Store was more profitable than most. Each day, hundreds of locals and tourists passed through the doors of the shop that was strategically located near the only bridge connecting the twelve-mile-long island off Florida’s Gulf Coast. “With this one, my overall gross will exceed Grant’s by half.”
“I don’t know, Charlie. Others have tried to get Charity Grambling to sell. They’ve all failed. I wish I could help, but you’ll have to sink or swim on your own.”
He spoke as if she’d already lost, but she wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot. Bringing this particular convenience store under the Favor umbrella was the next step in a career that would put as much space as possible between her and the hardscrabble existence her parents lived. She squared her shoulders. “Don’t count me out just yet, David. I have the grit and the determination to get the job done.”
Plus, Charity Grambling had no choice, really. Not if she wanted to stay in business at all. Though Charlie hadn’t needed to shake the ace out of her sleeve with any of the other owners, she’d applied extra pressure to close the deal on the Mimosa Key property.
But David shook his head. “You’ve spent a lot of time on this one account. Even with its higher income, that store is a loner.”
Charlie pursed her lips. Was her boss directing her to shift her efforts to a different venue? Turning to the man she’d once counted among her friends, she pointed out her problem. “It’s too late to back out of the appointment now.” She’d been corresponding with Charity—Ms. Grambling—for months, the signing scheduled weeks earlier.
“No, you don’t want to cancel. We need you to land that contract. Just, wrap it up quickly and be done with it.”
“Don’t worry.” She crossed her legs. “I’ll finish it up today and move on. I have a couple of other prospects I want to bring in before the end of the fiscal quarter next week.”
David smoothed his moustache, a recent addition. “About that, your name came up at the partners’ meeting this morning.”
“Really?” Sensing David was finally getting to the real reason he’d called her into his office, she made sure her voice carried just the right mix of boredom and interest.
“You’re one of the best producers this company has ever had, Charlie. No one can fault you for that. But we are concerned about possible burnout. You have, what—over a hundred hours of personal time on the books? You haven’t taken a day off in months. You work weekends and holidays when your co-workers are home with their families, their loved ones.”
“And that’s a problem?” Disbelief forced her back against the seat cushion. Now that David and his wife had smoothed things over, her boss seemed to have forgotten all the nights they’d slaved over presentations until well past midnight. The weekends they’d spent going over financial reports rather than hanging out with friends or family.
“Here at W&B, we encourage our employees to have balance in their lives. All work and no play…” David smiled thinly. “You know the old adage.”
Reading between the lines, she understood. Her chance at a corner office depended on creating the impression that she could have a personal life
and
excel in her professional one. She ran her numbers again, certain she was up to the task. She had this.
She forced a cheerful note into her voice. “You’re right, David. As always. I’m long overdue for a little vacation, and there’s no time like the present. I’ll plan on a long weekend away from the office once I have Charity Grambling’s signature on the dotted line. I hear Mimosa Key is a beautiful place—lots of palm trees and sandy beaches.” Not that she planned to waste time sitting on the beach. Oh, no. For appearances’ sake, she’d spend one night on the island. But there was too much at stake to take an entire weekend off. First thing tomorrow, she’d head for her apartment where she’d work the phones and ensure her next move up the corporate ladder.
“Good. That’s good.” As if he’d expected an argument that hadn’t materialized, relief flooded David’s face.
“I’ll always do whatever I can to make the partners happy. You know how much I want—how much I deserve—this promotion.” Back when she’d thought they were headed for something more than friendship, she’d told him about her struggles to escape the pervasive sweat and grime that went hand in hand with being a poor dirt farmer.
“Promotion?” David hiked an eyebrow. “What promotion?”
Charlie searched his face. “Everyone’s talking about it. Word around the water cooler is that whoever scores the highest in the Favor Oil competition will move into Seth’s office. Take over his accounts.” Seth had retired six months ago. W&B had yet to fill his slot.
David removed his glasses, held them by the earpiece. Propping his hand on his desk, he twirled them slowly. “I don’t know who started that rumor, but there’s no truth to it.”
No promotion?
The ramifications pulled her straight posture marginally tighter. No promotion and, worse, as a reward for all the hours she’d spent on the Favor account, she was being forced to take time off. And if she didn’t? She blinked. She couldn’t lose her job. Returning home with her tail tucked between her legs wasn’t even remotely possible. She tasted acid and swallowed.
“Thank you, David,” she managed. “Thank you very much for letting me know.”
Why did he? Is he still
interested
?
She checked her heart, relieved to find it completely healed. Reassured that her focus remained set on doing whatever it took to ensure her place at W&B, she headed for the door. Reaching it, she glanced over her shoulder, just to be sure. Rather than watching the long strides that had taken her away from him, her boss’s attention had returned to his reports. Whatever feelings she and David had once harbored for each other, they were long gone.
Two hours later, she pulled off Mimosa Key’s busy thoroughfare and parked her rental car in the skimpy shade beneath a palm tree. From her vantage point, she eyed the Favor station and the nearby convenience store. One after another, cars pulled up to the pumps, owners wielded the nozzles, cards were swiped, money exchanged. Roughly half the drivers also visited the store which, apparently, did a brisk business in snacks and sodas for those whose stay on the island had drawn to a close. Meanwhile, the door slapped shut behind a steady stream of—judging from the enormous bags of ice, bottles of sunscreen and boxes of chips and snacks—the island’s newest arrivals. During negotiations, Charity Grambling had driven a hard bargain. From the foot traffic, it looked like Favor Oil had nothing to worry about. The company would quickly recoup its investment once the slightly run-down appearance of the store had been given a standard makeover and a new name.
She swung her legs out of the car while an older gentleman who’d hobbled into the store only moments before re-emerged, leaning heavily on his cane. Hair the color of her favorite espresso brushed the forehead of the clerk who trailed the elderly man. Her focus zeroed in on cargo shorts and a polo shirt several cuts above the usual convenience store attire when the clerk reached into the customer’s trunk. Effortlessly, he shouldered a propane tank, giving her a good look at a thick muscular chest that tapered to a narrow waist. Her pulse ratcheted upward as the clerk squatted to retrieve a fresh tank from the bottom row of the rack, putting the cutest butt she’d seen in years on display.
