The Billionaire's Wife (A Steamy BWWM Marriage of Convenience Romance Novel) Page 3

  Just how Cole had put a company together and achieved his ridiculous level of success in such a short period of time, I have no idea. Maybe he was just frighteningly intimidating to his business partners.

  I fought the compulsion to run a Google search on my boss. I could have pulled up the latest gossip on Cole Andrews within seconds, but I’d already read anything useful at least once.

  The man was an enigma. Born without money, he’d been raised in your typical middle-class environment. There wasn’t anything remarkable about his youth. The details started around the time that he was in high school. He transferred into a good school – although where he had been before was a mystery – and graduated at the top of his class, won a few scholarships, and somehow got accepted into the Yale School of Business. Two years in, he dropped out and instantly started up his company. He’d cracked some deep-web marketing algorithm and that shot him straight to the forefront of online advertising. The corporation was immediately successful, profitable in the first year with explosive growth from then on, and nobody on the outside could figure out how he did it.

  The Runaway Tycoon, the papers had mockingly called him, but the sarcasm faded when he didn’t go down in flames. What should have been a brief string of good luck turned out to be a carefully plotted design, executed with precision. No matter what was going on with Cole Andrews, it was clear that he knew exactly what he was doing. His success was legitimized when several household brands and names sprung up with the badge of honor attached in the footers of their websites:

  Managed and designed by Andrews Enterprises.

  His company expanded beyond advertising, building the databases, websites, and infrastructure for the biggest names in the business. He took failing retailers and turned their companies around, making an incredible amount of money in the process. Insider information I’d learned told me that his company took a small, flat percentage of ongoing profits from each company he raised from its deathbed. Every new success was another pin in his crisp lapel, securing additional fame and higher asking fees from successive partners. The company had yet to make a single mistake. Cole’s rapid success had become a mathematical impossibility.

  And that was only part of the story. I’d seen first-hand that he continuously reinvested assets back into the business – my coworkers were happy, efficient, and proud to work for him. If not for the fact that I was inevitably going to be found out and cast aside, I’d almost consider sticking with the company…just getting inside had been worth the trouble.

  I swished my glass of red thoughtfully, staring at the penetrating gaze of Cole Andrews. Who are you, Cole? A frown crossed my lips, and I shut off the page and closed the laptop with a deep sigh.

  * * *

  It was Saturday, so I ran some quick laundry, ironed out my work blouses, and did the dishes from the night before. With my small, meager apartment looking remotely presentable, I was curled up with a book when my cell phone started buzzing against the coffee table. Glancing at the name, I gave myself a quick grin, and swiped it open.

  “Swaree! How’re you doing?”

  Aiswarya was my best friend – we’d known each other passingly in high school, but really grew close after graduation. Her party girl lifestyle clashed with my modest approach to entertainment, but I couldn’t fault her for being infectiously happy pretty much all the time.

  “Hey girl! Not much! I was thinking of going out for some drinks, that cool with you?”

  I paused, mentally checking my budget. I leveraged my checking account against the incoming bills, thought of any emergencies that could ostensibly be on the horizon. Sure, none of that would be a problem when I was finished with my little job at Cole Andrews. The payout would be substantial, but for now I had to make do, and that meant no excessive spending.

  “Listen, if you can’t make it, that’s coo–”

  “I’m really sorry, Swaree,” I confessed into the phone. “It’s been a bit of a rough week, and I’m tapped for cash. Maybe after the next paycheck?”

  “Aw!” She groaned derisively, but she took it in stride. “One of these days, girl, something big’s gonna happen and you’ll have to take me up on this!”

  “Big? Don’t worry me,” I chuckled.

  “Good big! You work way too hard to live like you do. You deserve more! You need a pretty house and a man and… You’ve gotta…wait, that sounded bad. I’m sorry, Key, I didn’t mean it like–”

  “That’s okay,” I reassured her. “You’re right. I do work too hard…but only for a little bit longer. I just have to wait this out and save up a little more.”

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s what you said when you were doing the gym management thing,” Aiswarya reminded me. “What was it? ‘Just six months of this and I’m good?’ How long ago was that?”

  “A long time ago,” I muttered. She was right, of course. Every opportunity was another step in the right direction, but I had to make significant compromises – Buy a better home computer that I need, or stop living in a total dump? Pay the exorbitant energy bill from a ballistic air conditioner while on a work trip, or buy clothes for an interview and hope I can make it to the next paycheck?

  Compromises constantly made my progress artificial at best, but I did what I had to do. Luckily, not owning a car made my expenses more manageable, but the public transit came with its own problems – it was constantly late, filled with obnoxious people playing grab ass with me, and taking way too much time to get around.

  Aiswarya and I made some small talk before I got off the line, descending into wallowing self-pity for a minute. She’s had the same resources I have, and she’s so much happier.

  I stood up, glancing out my third-story window. From here, I had a picturesque view of the surrounding ramshackle buildings, an abandoned warehouse, and the distant refinery that gave the air here the sweet, constant aroma of disgustingly burnt coffee.

  Something big is going to happen, I repeated to myself. Good big.

  (Back to Table of Contents)

  Chapter 4

  Kiona

  Two Days Later

  There was absolutely nothing about the way my workweek started that implied it would be anything but your typical boring, unsatisfying Monday…so you’ll sympathize with me being totally unprepared for what was coming.

  It started like the usual. Since Internet retailers don’t magically shut down on the weekends, naturally we had some last-second changes come through for a big client. I was working hard at my desk, producing a few sudden, emergency banners for Timothy in Graphic Design, when the little red-haired minx of an executive assistant popped up again.

  Clutching a clipboard to her chest, she flashed me a disarming, wide-eyed smile. “Kiona, do you have a moment?”

  “Of course,” I answered, glancing around. Half the staff had earphones in, listening to various Pandora stations while they worked and stifled their yawns. Nobody seemed to notice that the freaking executive assistant had just approached me out of the blue for a private conversation.

  Cautiously, I turned off my screen and followed Kylie across the lake of cubicles and straight towards Larry’s office. With every step, I grew a little more apprehensive – it was obvious that this had something to do with the conference room meeting. I only wondered why it took so long, and what punishment I was to be given.

  To my surprise, we simply walked around his office and towards the corridor on the other side. We moved quietly down the hall and waited for a pair of strolling, laughing web development programmers to saunter past.

  When the coast was clear and we were out of earshot from the rest of the employees, Kylie finally turned to me. “Mr. Andrews has requested your company for lunch,” she stated calmly but firmly. “Do you accept?”

  And there it was. My ass was about to be fired. There wasn’t a person in this company from the ground up who didn’t know what happened when Mr. Andrews invited you to lunch. It was like death row. They always give you one last meal.


  If it wasn’t my insubordination in front of him, it was because the jig was finally up. Well, you got a few good months out of it, I thought to myself quietly.

  “Yes, of course,” I nodded, hiding the growing pit in my stomach. “Which day does he prefer?”

  “Do you have plans for today?”

  “Today?” Oof, that was fast. “Sure. When should I leave, and where should I go?”

  “You won’t be leaving the premises, actually. In an hour, please report to Mr. Andrews’ office. Everything will be clear at that time.”

  She smiled softly and scampered away, leaving me in a confused, apprehensive daze. The next hour, I realized, was going to be one of the most excruciatingly long hours I’ve ever endured. I returned to my desk, taking a moment to stop by Larry’s office and remove the tiny USB key-logger from the back of his computer. There wasn’t enough time to sift through what it had captured. I could only hope it had the information I was hired to retrieve.

  * * *

  An hour later on the dot, I was standing in front of the open door to Cole Andrews’ private office. The aesthetic from the corporate conference room was in full swing here – delightful mocha on the walls, exquisite bookshelves, trophies and awards atop the uppermost shelves (how many awards does this guy even have?), and a powerful, luxurious executive desk, crafted from a bold, striking wood sheen. The glass wall behind the desk gave an impressive view, and I found myself drawn towards it.

  “Such a lovely sight…isn’t it?”

  Although I’d only heard a few syllables from that voice, it was instantly recognizable. In a brief moment of flummox, I turned my attention towards Cole Andrews, stepping out of a recessed doorway I had missed between bookcases. For a brief moment, I entertained the preposterous notion that he was admiring me and not the window.

  “Yes, it really is…” I agreed, glancing out to the opposing architecture. Although I should have been jealous of the man – only a few years older than me, rewarded so handsomely for his accomplishments – I couldn’t bring myself to envy him.

  There had been something in his distant stare. He was always on guard. But why?

  “Come, Kiona. Eat with me.”

  I brushed off his casual use of my first name, following him through the doorway and onto a large balcony area. I couldn’t resist casting my gaze about under the open air, feeling on top of the world. The railed balcony was tastefully sized, with ample room for entertaining a gathering guests and complete with an exquisite pavilion. Beneath the structure was a single table draped in white with room for just two. Gathering my bearings, I sat down opposite of him to a piping hot meal of seared salmon, sautéed asparagus, and a tasteful dollop of hollandaise sauce.

  “What is this, exactly?” I asked suspiciously.

  Cole snatched up his napkin, dropping it onto his lap. “Why, this is baked salmon, with asparagus and–”

  “You know that’s not what I meant,” I remarked coolly, grasping a fork and taking a bite of asparagus. It tasted so good that I almost hated jumping straight into things…but in order to adapt well, one needs a grasp of the playing field. “Why did you call me up for this meal?”

  “Business already, hmm?” Cole lifted a crisp eyebrow, his eyes calmly watching me. “Fine, we’ll have it your way. Why don’t you tell me?”

  He began to eat, but I could tell that he would be intently listening to whatever I said next.

  I sighed, quickly analyzing the situation between bites. “You’re a young, self-made billionaire, which means that you don’t waste your time. Including now…” I paused, tasting a bite of the seared salmon. It was mouth-wateringly good. “…So, not only am I here for a specific reason, but it’s something important enough to require your direct attention…”

  “Go on.” He took a bite of asparagus.

  I studied his eyes for a moment. “Everyone knows you’re a fan of giving employees a last meal when you’re about to fire them…” Another delicious bite of salmon, this time dipped in the hollandaise sauce, “…But I can see from the smirk on your face that you’re not going to fire me. That means that I’m not being punished for my insubordination in the meeting…”

  “Two for two. Continue.”

  “…Or for fabricating my resume.”

  His fork paused on the way to his lips; Cole’s eyes flickered for a brief second, not out of surprise but out of cool and calculating recognition.

  “You’re on a roll so far.”

  I stuffed another bite of asparagus into my mouth, mentally struggling for anything else. “So…I’m guessing you need me for something.” I swallowed a swig of water from my glass. “You clearly know more about me than I gave you credit for. You could blackmail me, threaten me legally or use your magical billionaire powers, but that’s not your style.”

  Cole narrowed his eyes.

  “…Probably not your style. Instead, you chose to treat me to what must be the most delicious meal I’ve had in years.” I dabbed at my lips with my napkin.

  The billionaire chomped on another piece of asparagus. “That’s borderline criminal. A beautiful woman like you should get used to food like this.”

  I ignored his change in tactics, quickly swallowing a large sip of water. “You could have chosen any other way to intimidate me, but that’s not your angle. I can only guess that you’re impressed with me.”

  Cole nodded, setting his own half-eaten plate aside. “Perceptive as expected, Kiona.”

  I inwardly sighed a breath of relief. “The only thing I can’t figure out, though, is what you’re going to ask me to do.”

  A smile crossed the billionaire’s lips, and he leaned back in his chair, hands folded behind his head. I took another bite as I waited, letting the almost unbelievable taste roll over my tongue. I could tell he was savoring this moment almost as much as I was savoring this meal, and that only made me even more apprehensive.

  “I’m going to ask you to marry me.”

  That’s when I spit half chewed salmon all over him.

  (Back to Table of Contents)

  Chapter 5

  Cole

  Kiona stared at me in complete disbelief, trying to determine what sort of trick I was playing as I picked the fish from my hair and brushed it from my shirt. I took a small level of satisfaction from the moment, before finally sitting forward and clarifying.

  “You are an astute, beautiful young woman, always chasing the next opportunity. I’m told that you are charismatic, talented, and remarkably easy to get along with…and none of your superiors have the slightest notion that you’ve completely fooled them all. I know you don’t have even the slightest background in marketing, yet I’ve seen your work and it’s of the highest caliber… Tell me, how exactly do you manage to pull off the work that you do?”

  Kiona tilted her head slightly and collected her thoughts, an indescribable look on her face. Her mouth was frozen, as if in mid-sentence. I could almost see the cogs spinning rapidly in her head. Finally, composing herself, her hesitant voice drifted across the table. “Marriage?”

  “The work, Kiona. How did you do it?” I replied in the same tone I used in contract negotiation. She drew back away from the table, her eyes locked into mine.

  “I studied your website for a day, cross-referencing it with a few other competitors of yours, then with some of your clients,” she began carefully. “I pinned a few common denominators and spent two weeks brushing up on my Photoshop skills while recreating last year’s award winning designs using logos and imagery from your client’s websites.”

  “You’re telling me you taught yourself masters-level design skills in two weeks?” I asked.

  “I’m telling you I learned enough to get me hired. I passed the first interview, revised my knowledge based on what I’d fumbled in the questions, took the second interview in stride, and then the third. Once I was in, all I had to do is apply myself.”

  “That is a lot of work for a company with stellar background checks,” I prodded
. “What made you think you could pull it off?”

  “The fact that we’re having this conversation tells me your company isn’t the one who figured this out, Mr. Andrews,” she replied coldly.

  “Compelling story,” I replied, studying her. “From what I’ve gathered, probably all true.” I took another sip of water. “Tell me, Kiona… Who sent you?”

  Kiona smiled for the first time since the bombshell, brushing a few bangs absentmindedly from in front of her eyes. “What makes you think I’m working for anyone else? You’re Cole Andrews. The amount that you’ve accomplished in such a short time frame…not to stroke your ego, but if there was someone in the world I wanted to learn from, it would be you.”