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Authors: Daphne Loveling

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Catering to the Billionaire (The Billionaire's Appetites) (BBW Billionaire Erotic Romance)

BOOK: Catering to the Billionaire (The Billionaire's Appetites) (BBW Billionaire Erotic Romance)
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Catering to the Billionaire (The Billionaire’s Appetites)

(BBW Billionaire Erotic Romance)

By Daphne Loveling

––––––––

Copyright 2014 Daphne Loveling

All rights reserved.

Table of Contents

Copyright Page

Catering to the Billionaire (The Billionaire's Appetites) (BBW Billionaire Erotic Romance)

Lissa twisted around nervously in the elevator, hoping to get a glimpse of her backside in the mirrored walls to make sure her new suit was hanging properly.  It was a good thing she was alone in here; she needed the last few seconds to calm her fidgety self before the doors opened and she faced the most terrifying experience of her young life. 

She gave herself a once-over in the mirror, smoothing her tumbling chestnut curls and tugging down one more time on her cream-colored blazer.  Her suit fit her well; taking the plunge and going to a personal shopper had been the right decision.  The matching cream skirt she wore fit her perfectly, hugging her generous hips without binding or feeling too tight. Lissa had always had the curvy girl’s fear of clothing, convinced that only stick-thin model types could really manage to find clothes that they felt good in.  Still, she had to admit that the personal shopper her sister had suggested had proved Lissa wrong.  Though it had been a huge splurge for her, she could already tell that the money she had invested on this suit and a few other key pieces would pay off as she sought to make her mark on the world in the competitive business of catering.

Lissa had just finished fidgeting when the elevator doors opened, and she stepped out nervously onto the twenty-third floor.  In front of her, a large set of glass double doors proclaimed she was in the right place: Thorne Investments.  With a deep breath, she pushed through the doors and went inside.  “Hello,” she said to a trim, attractive blonde woman in an elegant black suit sitting at the front reception desk.  “I’m here to see Barbara Randall about a possible catering contract.  I’m Lissa Bradford.”

“Oh, yes, Ms. Bradford,” the blonde said, smiling cordially up at her.  “You’re on Ms. Randall’s calendar for two o’clock.  I’m sorry to say, Ms. Randall has had to step away for an emergency.  Mr. Thorne will be interviewing you instead.”

“Mr. Thorne?”
Gregory Thorne?  The CEO of Thorne Investments himself?
  Lissa’s heart leapt to her throat.  It was nerve-wracking enough to be interviewing for her first big catering job at such a major firm, but Lissa had at least thought she’d known what to prepare for.  Her high-powered sister, Laurie, knew Ms. Randall from her own job as a corporate head-hunter, and had gotten Lissa this interview through those personal connections.  Since Lissa had expected to be interviewed by Ms. Randall herself, she had grilled Laurie about the woman’s personality and style of doing business, and had prepared her presentation based on what Laurie had told her.  Lissa had even held out hope that her sister’s connection to Ms. Randall would give Lissa a tiny advantage over any other caterers they were considering. But now, Lissa realized with dismay, not only was she not going to be able to use any of Laurie’s tips, she would be walking into a situation where she knew next to nothing about her interviewer. 

In her research on the firm, Lissa had found out very little of substance about its CEO.  Gregory Thorne was a notoriously private and secretive man, who refused to give interviews to the many magazines and newspapers who wanted to do features on him.  Only the most basic of details were known about his life.  He was born in Boston, and attended private school there as a child.  He had graduated from Harvard Business School at twenty-five.  Now, at the ripe old age of thirty-five, he had founded and raised his own company, Thorne Investments, to a level of success that put him within spitting distance of the Fortune 500.  He had never been married, had no children, and was passionate about sailing.  Other than that, he remained largely a mystery.  A mystery that Lissa was about to meet.

The blonde, who said her name was Annie, stood up and showed Lissa to a sitting area just down the hall from the reception.  “Please, have a seat while you’re waiting.  Would you like anything to drink? Coffee?  Tea? Mineral water?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Lissa smiled, trying to appear as relaxed as possible. 

Annie nodded.  “I’ll tell Mr. Thorne you’re here. I believe he’s on a conference call at the moment, but he should be finishing up soon.”  She disappeared down the hall, her black heels making no sound on the carpet. 

Lissa sat down in a leather love seat, a low glass coffee table in front of her.  She set the briefcase on the table and pulled out her notes, intending to go over them one more time.  Her hands were shaking as she did so, and she stopped.  She had to calm down; if he could see how nervous she was right now, he would never consider hiring her.  Even though she felt as though her entire twenty-eight years on this planet were culminating in this one moment, she reminded herself that whatever happened, she would be able to take what came and move forward.  She had dealt with harder things, she told herself sternly.  She had what it took to succeed, she knew, and if Gregory Thorne didn’t see that, others would.  Lissa drew herself up tall in her seat and placed her hands on her thighs.  She took a few deep breaths, and tried to pay no attention to the hammering of her heart.  Using a trick her sister had taught her, she imagined herself relaxed and professional with Thorne, answering all his questions with ease and poise.  She had finally managed to stop her hands from shaking when Annie reappeared, walking back down the hall toward where Lissa was seated.  “Mr. Thorne will see you now,” she said. 

Lissa got up and followed her back, where the blonde motioned her to a door at the end of the hall.  “Just through there,” she said with a smile, and left Lissa to go on by herself.  Taking one final deep breath, she squared her shoulders and stepped through the doorway.

Inside, a large office done in rich grays and browns greeted her. Behind a large, modern mahogany desk sat the man who could only be Gregory Thorne. Lissa drew in her breath in spite of herself as she stared at this man she had only glimpsed in pictures.  Dark, brooding eyes looked out from a rugged face that appeared as though Thorne was as comfortable out battling the elements as he was in a board room.  His chin was square and strong, with the barest shadow of a beard accentuating the defined lines.  Full, sensual lips were slightly parted as the man frowned in concentration a large, flat computer screen.  Lissa’s heart thudded in her chest as she realized he was quite possibly the most gorgeous man she had ever seen.

Mr. Thorne did not bother to get up.

“Come in,” he said in an impatient tone, waving her over to the chairs facing his desk.  He barely glanced at her as she did as she was told.  Thorne continued to stare at the screen in concentration, for long enough that Lissa began to feel as though she were invisible.  As the minutes ticked by, her nervousness faded, replaced first by confusion, then irritation.  By the time Thorne looked up from his computer, she was contemplating whether to just get up and walk out.

Thorne turned to look at her, their eyes meeting for the first time.  His furrowed brow raised slightly as their eyes locked, and a little jolt ran through Lissa.  He froze, his eyes taking in first her face, then sliding quickly down over the rest of her.  A little shiver ran through Lissa. She suddenly felt exposed, naked almost: it was as though his gaze burned right through her clothing to her core.  A wave of nervousness welled up inside her, and she tamped it down quickly. 

“Mr. Thorne,” she said boldly.  “Very nice to meet you.”

He continued to stare at her, his eyes widening slightly at the sound of her voice.  Finally, he drew back an inch or so, and the look of slight irritation returned.  “Yes,” he said mildly.  “Apparently, Ms. Randall was supposed to have interviewed you today regarding catering for the Women in Business celebration in September.”

“Yes, that’s right.  I’m so sorry she’s indisposed.  I hope it’s nothing too serious?” Lissa replied.

“Serious enough that she can’t be here, and I have to take over her work for her,” Thorne said crossly.  “Look, I haven’t been involved with this end of the project.  Randall usually takes care of these details.  So why don’t you just present to me what you have and leave any materials for her.  She can look over them when she gets back.”  Gregory Thorne leaned back in his chair and looked at her expectantly.

Realizing that her very presence seemed to be seriously inconveniencing and perturbing the man, Lissa’s first impulse was simply to excuse herself and leave the menu and her contact information with Thorne. 
No
, she told herself.
You’ve worked too hard for this moment.  This is your first possible contract with a big company, and it could turn into a more long-term relationship if you do it right.  This isn’t ideal, but you need to make it happen, anyway.
  Smiling at Thorne as though his obvious lack of interest was not at all obvious to her, she reached into her briefcase and pulled out her menu options.  “Certainly, Mr. Thorne.  From what Ms. Randall told me in her emails and over the phone, this event will be formal, with two main events: a reception in a large atrium with a curated exhibit showcasing the achievements of women from the Boston area, and a sit down dinner with a keynote speaker.  Therefore, we need to plan for a smooth transition between the two stages, and food and drink in both cases that will complement one another.  I’ve prepared three options, which can all be tweaked or modified according to your input and needs.  The first option is...”

As Lissa continued to speak, Thorne’s eyes kept wandering back to his computer screen.  Occasionally, he would tap a key or two on his keyboard. At first, he made superficial overtures pretending to pay attention to what she was saying.  Eventually, though, he dropped all pretense of following her presentation.  When at one point he seemed to completely tune her out and began to type without bothering to conceal it from her, Lissa stopped.  “Excuse me,” she interrupted him.  “Are you answering email?”

Thorne stopped what he was doing for a moment and looked at her with an impatient frown.  “I’m a busy man, Ms...  I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Lissa Bradford.” So shocked was she at his rude behavior that she set down the menu she was holding and stared at him in disbelief.  He didn’t notice.

“Ms. Bradford,” he repeated.  Cutting his eyes back to the computer screen, he pressed a button, and then returned to meet her gaze.  “I’m a very busy man, and this meeting has come at a very inconvenient time.  Perhaps you could just leave your menus and any other materials for when Ms. Randall gets back. I’ll see that she gets them.”  His tone was dismissive, the meeting already over in his mind.  Lissa, however, had reached her limit. The stress of preparing for this meeting, combined with the disappointment of having it all come to nothing and the unbelievable arrogance of this man, had pushed her beyond what she could tolerate. 

“Mr. Thorne,” Lissa began, her tone icy.  “I, too, am a very busy woman.  Perhaps not as important as you, but arguably much busier, because my livelihood depends more immediately on my success.  You see, Mr. Thorne, I am trying to build a successful catering business.  With all of my own capital.  Everything I own is invested in Select Catering.  This contract, if I were to get it, represents a considerable amount of money and exposure for me.  If it went well, that would allow me to hire more employees and eventually be able to operate on a larger scale.” 

The man behind the desk looked up and frowned at her.  He opened his mouth to say something, but Lissa cut him off before he could speak.  “I don’t imagine that you have ever been in the situation of having to struggle against being dismissed as unimportant, Mr. Thorne,” she continued, her eyes not wavering from his.  “Having your time devalued and your honest work made light of because of your gender, I imagine, is something you don’t encounter very frequently.  What I find truly ironic, here, is that you are interviewing me to cater an event that celebrates women in business.  Clearly, this is just something you’re doing to get more attention to your already successful company.  It seems to have escaped you that
I
am one of the women in business you are supposed to be celebrating.  Celebrating—not condescending to, as though I’m some sort of second-class citizen only worthy of being talked to by your female underling.”

Gregory Thorne had now completely stopped looking at his computer screen and was gaping at Lissa in amazement.  She struggled to keep her voice even as she stood up and gathered her things.  “I think we’re done here.  I’ll let myself out.  I would thank you for your time, Mr. Thorne, but since you haven’t given me any of it, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked out of Gregory Thorne’s office, closing the door behind her.  When she got to the reception area, the helpful blonde looked up at her.  “Ms. Randall told me to tell you she would be in touch by the end of the week,” she smiled.

BOOK: Catering to the Billionaire (The Billionaire's Appetites) (BBW Billionaire Erotic Romance)
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