The Billionaire's Desire (A Billionaire BWWM Steamy Romance)

BOOK: The Billionaire's Desire (A Billionaire BWWM Steamy Romance)
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The Billionaire’s
Desire

 

(BWWM Billionaire Steamy Romance)

 
 

[email protected]

 

www.amazon.com/author/miacaldwell

 
 
 

© 2015 Mia Caldwell

 

All Rights Reserved. This book or
any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief
quotations in a book review.

 

This book is a work of fiction.
Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is
purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s
imagination.

 

Please note that this work is
intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as
18 or over.

 

Kindle Edition

 
DEDICATION
 

This
book is dedicated to Theresa. You know why.

 

-Mia

 
 
 
 
 

The Billionaire’s Desire

 
 
 

Prologue

 
 
 

"Yes, thank you. Wednesday at eleven.
See you in four days."

 

My hands are shaking so badly that I can
barely hang up my phone.

 

Camilla Easton. I just landed Camilla
Easton's wedding.

 

I stand up from the desk and look around my
home office. It is as neat as a pin, of course. The walls surrounding me are hung
with my vision boards and whiteboards. But the wall over the desk has the most
important decoration of them all.

 

My timeline.

 

"The Path To Success," I titled
it so long ago. Three pieces of posterboard laid end to end, with a single red
line stretching from twenty-three years old to twenty-seven years old. Four
years seemed ample time to me back when I first started Sanniyah Jones Events.
Four years to build my business into a corporation with real employees and
licenses to franchisees along the coast.

 

Now I was nearing twenty-seven, in three
months as a matter of fact, and I could finally tick off something that had
been lagging all this time.

 

Land a heavy-weight wedding that would
propel me into the pages of the Styles section.

 

Idly, I run my finger along the red line.
Everything is finally going according to plan. I trace the line lovingly,
making a tick sound with my mouth as I check everything off, one by one. I have
everything laid out just the way I like, and now that I've landed the Easton
wedding, nothing is going to change that.

 
 
 

Chapter One

 
 
 

Sanniyah

 
 
 

I stop
in the middle of the sidewalk, and shift out of this sea of people. Closing my
eyes I take a deep breath.

 

"Okay
Yahya, stop panicking."

 

Clearly
there is no way I can walk to my meeting in time. So rather than show up all late
and sweaty, it's time to switch to plan B.

 

"Taxi!"
I call, stepping out into the street.

 

As if
by magic, a taxi rolls smoothly to a stop, and I hop in and settle back in the
seat, relishing the air-conditioning. "14th and Houston, please," I
tell the driver, already adjusting my makeup in my compact mirror.

 

What's the plan?
Those
words are my mantra, the constant refrain in my brain that has brought me to
where I am today. Planning is what I do, and I'm the best at it. From the
moment I got out of business school, I knew what my plan was: Open my own
business, build my empire, and achieve my dreams.

 

And
today is it. The linchpin to my dreams. I am scheduled to meet Camilla Easton
in ten minutes.

 

If I
can just get there in time.

 

I tap
my fingers against my phone, studiously keeping it close. If I open it and see
the picture of my mother and stepfather on my home screen, I am going to start
crying and that will ruin everything. But even as I fight to keep my cool, my
mother's voice is still echoing in my ear. Last night's conversation was quick
and to the point.

 

"Yahya, the cancer's back. You need to
be ready to say goodbye."

 

"No,"
I whisper softly. "Keep it together." I need to be on point. I need
to sparkle and impress, and thoughts of my stepfather's cancer returning are
not going to help that. I need to push that to the back of my brain, at least
until after this meeting.

 

We are
making good time, until a snarl of downtown traffic catches us in its vise. I
can feel my heart rate starting to rise as the taxi inches along. We are close.
Five minutes. I could probably walk faster.

 

In
fact, I think I will.

 

I grab
my phone and briefcase, and fling money at the driver. Slamming the door, I hit
the pavement for the second time today, my heels clacking. The noon sun is
pouring down on me once again, but I think I can make it without her seeing me
sweat.

 

This is
the biggest break in my career, and everything needs to go according to plan.
When Camilla Easton called me, I had to hold back my disbelief. The Easton
wedding was the event of the year and I had landed it. Every wedding planner in
town had been vying for this one, but in the end she had called Sanniyah Jones
Events.

 

Me.

 

If I
play my cards right, this wedding will launch me into the next level. I can
start the next stage of my timeline, licensing my name. Mentally, I make a note
to release a PR statement as soon as I get back to my home office. This wedding
is sure to land me a full page spread in the Styles section and the thought of
the press and tabloid coverage makes me salivate.

 

And
if Carter Easton shows up at his sister's
wedding, that will
bring even more press.

 

That
thought makes my heart race even harder. No one has seen Carter Easton in two
years. He disappeared, completely off of the radar. At the supermarket checkout
the other day, I had actually seen a front page with his smiling face and
picked it up eagerly, only to see that it was a speculation piece about his
metal health. "The Broken Billionaire," they called him. "Why is
Carter Easton Hiding?"

 

If he appears again at MY event, the press
will go ballistic. Every little detail will be photographed and scrutinized. I
might get TV appearances, consulting fees, my own reality show....

 

The
thought makes me rush forward, almost sprinting right past the coffee shop
where Camilla and I had agreed to meet. My sudden burst of energy is partly to
do with excitement and partly to do with the ever-present nervousness I have to
suppress every time I meet with one of my new, usually wealthy clients.

 

And
Camilla Easton is the sister of one of the wealthiest men in the country.

 

"Yahya,
you are not that girl anymore." I'm mumbling to myself as I hurry down the
sidewalk. "You left that behind you."

 

Now, if
only I'd believe myself and let go of the small, sad part of me that still held
on to the deprivations of my childhood.

 

I stop
and collect myself, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the plate glass
window. I tuck a wayward strand of my long, jet black hair behind my ear, and
let the diamond studs wink in the strong sunlight. My makeup still looks
presentable somehow, confirming my belief that it is worth it to spring for the
good stuff, especially on humid days like today. My high cheekbones are still
highlighted with a light dusting of blush that sets off my mocha skin, and my light
brown eyes are accentuated by a slight catlike curve to my dark gray eyeliner.
Everything is still in place, in spite of my nerves. I could use some lip gloss
on my full lips, though.

 

Unfortunately
I had left that in my other bag. And Camilla Easton, and my dreams,
are
waiting for me.

 
 
 

Chapter Two

 

Sanniyah

 
 
 

This
place is one of those coffee shops that treat the art of brewing as if it were
some sort of magical alchemy. I grow impatient watching the baristas measure
liquid in beakers and ended up just pulling my water bottle from my bag and
sitting down with a wide smile.

 

"It
is such a pleasure to meet you, Miss Easton," I say, extending my hand.

 

The
blushing young white girl in front of me is not at all what I was expecting.
She pumps my hand enthusiastically, excitement shining in her wide blue eyes. I
was expecting someone snobbish and refined, but Camilla Easton is as
infectiously eager to please as a Labrador puppy.

 

"Call
me Cammy," she says in a girlish voice. I know from my research that she
is twenty-six years old, same as me, but she has such a young air about her
that I instantly feel protective.

 

"Cammy,
congratulations!" I smile all the harder. "What an exciting time for
you!" It's my standard line, one I've used a million times before, but
this time I find myself meaning it.

 

"It
is," she looks down shyly at the gigantic, shining boulder on her ring
finger and twists it nervously. "I'm sorry that Greg couldn't come today,
he got called overseas last minute. Had to fly out this morning."

 

Of
course I knew that her fiancé, Gregory Milton, is
a
hotelier eagerly expanding his empire. Briefly, I wondered which of his hotels
would be the one to host this wedding

 

"He
has a bit on his plate," I soothe, and she smiles at my reassurance. I reach
into my briefcase and pull out my booking sheets, spreading them out in a fan
shape for her to see.
 
"When
you made this appointment, you told me you were looking for an October wedding,
correct?" I swallow hard.

 

"That's
right," Cammy practically whispers. "I know it's short notice, but
Greg's mother is in poor health..."

 

I wince
a little.
"Yahya, you need to be
ready to say goodbye," she told me. How can I possibly say goodbye? I'm
not ready for this. It's too sudden. This isn't supposed to be happening, he
was in remission. He was fine!

 

Then I
snap back to Cammy.

 

"Say
no more," I say reassuringly, even though I don't feel reassured at
all.
 
"Tell me about your
vision."

 

This is
my favorite question, because it gets the brides talking and I can sit back and
make notes. Typically, the bride will get so caught up in the descriptions of
her perfect day that, just by listening closely, I get everything I need to do
my job perfectly.

 

And
then I get to take the credit when everything falls into place. It's a win-win
really.

 

But
instead of bubbling over about chocolate fountains and dress colors, Cammy just
looks stricken. "I don't...really have a vision?" she sounds ashamed.
"Or, rather...I did. But it changed."

 

I
smile, discreetly cracking my knuckles. This will be a little harder than I
thought. "Well, we can start with the basics. How many guests do you plan
on inviting?"

 

"It
really depends...." She is looking down, not meeting my eyes. I can feel
my grip on her loosening, and I start scrambling.

 

"Low-key,"
I announce, blindly grasping at straws. "You're not a fussy girl and you
don't like a fuss being made about you." I smile winningly as she looks
up, meeting my eye for the first time since I walked in. Yes, I'm on the right
track. I soldier on. "You don't really want a huge guest list, just those
that are closest to you. Something casual, but elegant, full of personal
touches. A real celebration of you and Greg and your love."

 

Her
shoulders are moving lower and lower the more I talk. "Something
low-key," she repeats. "That would be lovely."

 

"I
can definitely do that." I am already picturing the shabby chic
decorations, the simple ceremony. I make a note of the caterers that could
supply and elegant menu with a rustic touch. The press release I will send out
practically writes itself.
"From the
homeless shelter to haute couture, the improbably rise of Sanniyah Jones,
wedding planner extraordinaire."
That's good. That's really good.
Discreetly, I write it down in the margins of my notebook while pretending I'm
taking notes for Camilla.
 
"You
don't have to worry about a thing, Miss Easton. Sanniyah Jones Events is all
about making your day specifically yours."

 

"Call
me Cammy," she repeats, softly.

 

Oops.
"Of course, Cammy. Like I said, you really don't need to worry about much.
I can start location scouting as soon as today." October is only four
months away. I am going to have to scramble, call in favors, plump some egos,
but it's nothing I can't handle.

 

"I
do know the location," she interjects.

 

I raise
my eyebrows. Well this helps. "Ah. That's wonderful." One of her
fiance's properties, I would guess. That would make catering easier. I lift my
pencil. "I'll call and find out availability as soon as we're done
here."

 

"I
know it's available."

 

I scoff
internally. All of the best places are already booked months, sometimes years
in advance. I really hope I don't have to disappoint her. "Well that will
make my job easier!" I say. "Go ahead and give me the name, and if
you have a phone number, that would really help. But don't worry if you
don't."

 

She
looks around, then lowers her voice. "I have the number, but I don't want
to say it out loud." She reaches for my pad of paper. Confused, I hand it
to her and she scratches out a number with a strange area code. "They say
you're the best in the business, Miss Jones. But this information comes with a
confidentiality clause."

 

"You
have my word." I can't make head's or tails of the number anyway.
"I'll call them today and get everything lined up."

 

"Everything
is ready for you already. The helicopter is at your disposal."

 

"I'll
need a helicopter?"

 

"Yes."
She lowers her voice further. "To get to Annika Island."

 

"Annika
Island." The name rings a very faint bell. I am just starting to put it
together at the same time Cammy explains, so that the realization hits me with
a quick one-two punch.

 

"My
brother's island. Carter is going to be hosting the wedding."

 
BOOK: The Billionaire's Desire (A Billionaire BWWM Steamy Romance)
7.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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