Romancing The Billionaire: The Complete Story Read online

  Romancing the Billionaire

  The Complete Story

  By

  Olivia Wilson

  Copyright

  © 2016 Olivia Wilson

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book or any part thereof. May not be reproduced, or used in any manner whatsoever, without the express written permission of the author. Except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is an entire work of fiction, and any resemblance to any person, either living or dead is pure coincidence.

  This book is for adults only.

  ‘Have you ever heard that saying, the one about looking for something and not being able to find it? Well, I wasn’t looking; there just wasn’t room in my life for love, too many other things to think about. That was of course until love found room for me.’ Her.

  ‘I knew what they all thought, but that wasn’t me. Sure, I’d dated women, but I hadn’t known love. The thought of there being somebody out there to complete you in the most perfect sense, that’s what interests me. Turns out I was a hopeless romantic all along, nobody saw that coming.’ Him.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Follow or Connect with the Author

  Chapter 1

  Him

  ‘Ah, Crawford. Come in!’ Standing behind his dark mahogany desk, he beckons me with his hand. In a confident stance, he rests his knuckles on the top of his desk while the large window behind provides an impressive backdrop of corporate real estate. It’s clear he's one of the richest, most powerful men in the capital, but he isn't richer than I am. 'I see you got my message then,’ he says.

  ‘That’s why I’m here.' I swagger into the room with an air of nonchalance.

  ‘If you wouldn't mind excusing us please Christa,’ he says to his secretary who's poised in front of him, notepad and pen in hand.

  ‘Of course Mr. Montgomery.’ Nodding, Christa pushes her pencil into the French twist at the back of her hair, uncrosses her legs and stands up. Smoothing down the front of her skirt, she looks at me and smiles before making her way from the room. ‘Good morning Mr. Montgomery,’ she purrs as she passes.

  ‘Hello Christa,’ I reply, tilting my head in a formal manner as he watches with a critical eye.

  ‘Please, take a seat, Crawford.’ He motions towards the large, black, leather chair in front of his desk. Then popping open the button on his pinstripe suit jacket, he sits himself down. ‘You look tired Crawford; did you have a late night?’ He frowns as his elbows sits on the arms of the chair and his fingers rest near his lips.

  ‘Not in particular.’ I shrug and sit down.

  ‘No?’ He maintains eye contact with me as he picks up a newspaper from the table. ‘Tell me; is this you on that supermodel’s arm in the early hours of yesterday morning?’ He says tossing the paper down in front of me.

  Picking up the paper, I see myself on the front page. ‘Why yes, I believe it is. Not the best shot of me though I must say. Never the less, I can’t imagine you’ve asked me here to discuss my social life?’ I drop the paper back down onto the desk and sit back.

  ‘On the contrary,’ his steel-grey eyes narrow as he talks. ‘I’ve noticed you’re still spending quite a lot of time partying.’

  ‘Not this again,’ I sigh dropping my arm from the side of the chair.

  ‘I think we need to talk about it, Crawford.’ He remains composed in his seat.

  ‘There’s nothing to say. I work hard, and I play hard end of story. I’m a grown adult and with all due respect father, my personal life is none of your concern.’ I feel myself becoming agitated.

  ‘So you believe this playboy lifestyle you're living is sensible do you?’ He says, resting his elbows onto the desk.

  ‘Playboy lifestyle? I do, on occasion enjoy the company of a beautiful woman and now I’m a Playboy. You cannot be serious?’

  ‘I am serious Crawford.’ His eyes cut straight through me.

  ‘I believe I’m entitled to live my life as I see fit father. As long as I’m within the confines of the law, and without posing a danger to others or myself. Then I don’t see what the problem is. You talk as though I’m out of control. When in reality I just have a social life.’ Standing from the chair, I push my hands into my pockets.

  ‘A social life which proves quite expensive, does it not?’ He tilts his head.

  ‘With money well earned by myself.’ Removing my hands from my pockets, I rest my fingers on the back of the chair I was, until moments ago, sitting in.

  ‘I’m not saying that. I’m just suggesting it may be time for you to slow down on your spending. I would feel more confident if you were to appear a little more responsible sometimes. That's all,’ he says.

  Taking a step back, I push my hands back into my pockets and look at the ceiling while rocking back on my heels and contemplating my words. ‘Your definition of responsibility leaves a lot to be desired father.' I begin. 'I’m yet to miss a day of work. I’ve set up several companies of my own as well as contributing towards yours, making us both plenty of money in the process, I might add. You may have been a self-made man who built an empire from the ground up and that may have given me many opportunities in life. But I’m the one who’s capitalised on those opportunities. I’ve closed on every deal I’ve ever negotiated and my income level is in the elite few. Every penny I have, I’ve earned with hard work. Still, you choose to ignore that. Instead focusing on this obsession you have with my leisure time.’ My patience having run out. I turn on my heel and stride towards the door.

  ‘Crawford, wait! I didn’t mean to offend you,' my father calls out behind me.

  ‘I’ve heard enough,’ I say holding my hand up and storming out of his office.

  What is it about the relationship between a parent and their child? Whatever age and however successful or self-reliant you are. Your parents seem compelled to treat you like children, and you in turn react by behaving like one, a petulant one at that, or maybe that’s just me. Upon reflection, I think I should perhaps apologise to him for this little outburst later

  ‘Good morning Crawford,’ I hear a familiar voice say and look up to see Seraphina emerging from the elevator. All smiles, her shiny, bright, red hair bounces on her shoulders as she walks towards me.

  ‘Good morning Seraphina,’ I say feeling my mood lift and when she reaches me, I bend down to give a peck on her rosy red cheek.

  Seraphina’s my father’s wife, which I suppose makes her my stepmother. But she doesn’t seem old enough, despite being older than she looks. Seraphina's a great addition to the family. She's an excellent wife for my father and has a sharp business mind making her an asset to the company too. She's kind hearted with a gentle nature making her easy to talk. It’s hard to think why anybody wouldn't like Seraphina.

  ‘Why the glum face Crawford?’ She as
ks.

  ‘It’s nothing Seraphina; he’s just riled me up today. I can’t deal with his blinkered attitude sometimes.’

  ‘Right, let me get these put away…’ She drums her fingers on the pile of files in her arm. ‘…And we’ll go get a coffee. My treat.’ Approaching the filing cabinet, she pulls out a set of keys from the pocket of her smart camel suit jacket and opens the cabinet. Placing the files inside, she locks it back up again before putting the keys back into her pocket. I say she’s not old enough to be my mother, but that doesn’t stop her acting as if she is. ‘Right,’ she says walking towards me and hooking her arm into mine. ‘Let’s go shall we?’

  Chapter 2

  Her

  My knees are beginning to ache already as they push into the carrier bag I’ve put on the ground to stop my uniform from getting dirty. Removing the dead flowers from the vase, I place them onto the ground beside me. Then tipping the vase upside-down, I shake the dirty water from the bottom and turn it the right way up again. Dropping the new flowers inside, I push the vase back into the ground and give it a twist into the dirt to secure it.

  ‘There,’ I say to myself looking at the bright, yellow daffodils. ‘I know how much you loved tulips, but there was a problem with the delivery at the florist this week, so you've got these instead. Anyway, it’s nice to go for something different, and these look pretty. In any case, I’m sure they’ll have tulips back again next week. At least they better do.’

  ‘Morning Amy,’ Mrs. Johnson says as she passes by.

  Mrs. Johnson is a regular visitor to the cemetery. Her late husband's buried near to Mum so I see her here often.

  ‘Daffodils today I see,’ she says noticing the flowers I brought with me. Then with her trowel in hand, she lowers herself to side of her husband’s grave.

  ‘Yes Mrs. Johnson, I was just saying, no tulips this week I'm afraid.’

  ‘Call me Betty please, Mrs. Johnson sounds so official,’ she says plunging her trowel into the dirt.

  ‘What are you planting today?’ I ask.

  ‘Just some bulbs, they’re in the boot of my car.’ She stands and rubs her hands onto her gardening apron, then walks over to her car.

  ‘So, dad's doing well,’ I say focusing my attention back to the grave. ‘He still misses you, of course, but then we all do.’ Looking away for a moment I stop talking, then stand up and move my carrier bag back a couple of feet. ‘Right,' I begin again. 'I've got half an hour left before I need to leave for work.’ Sitting down in front of a large oak tree, I shuffle myself backwards until I’m leant against the bark. ‘I’ll just sit right here for a bit until it’s time for me to go,’ I say and I can feel the first signs of tears beginning to form behind my eyes.

  ‘It's cloudy isn't it Amy? Mrs. Johnson says returning from her car. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if we didn’t see rain soon.’ She drops a small cardboard box onto the ground then lowers herself to her knees again.

  ‘You could be right Mrs. Johnson. Sorry, Betty.' I look out to the sky and she is right, it's getting darker by the second. 'I hope you get your bulbs in on time,’ I say.

  ‘Me too, but I could always come back tomorrow if I don't. Are you working today Amy?’ She asks.

  ‘Yep, I have a shift when I leave here.’

  ‘You must find it a struggle to fit it all in, with your father and all?’ She says through gritted teeth as she tugs on a stubborn weed.

  ‘It can sometimes seem as though there aren't enough hours in the day. But I’ve managed to make it work so far.’

  ‘Sounds as though you have, but when do you find time for you?’ Sitting back on her heels, she rests her trowel on her thigh for a minute and looks at me.

  ‘I can wait,’ I look out towards the sky and see it’s getting darker by the minute.

  ‘And what about dating, when do you find time for that?’ She says going back to digging.

  ‘That can wait too. There may well be someone special out there waiting for me, but I’m too busy right now to find him,’ I chuckle.

  ‘Not to worry, these things have a habit of finding you. By the time I was your age, I was married with a child already,’ she says.

  ‘It must be hard for you, being without Mr. Johnson.’

  ‘I do miss Fred, but we had many good years’ together. We raised two beautiful children, who've now given me four wonderful grandchildren. So there’s plenty to keep me going. Anyway, how’s your father now?’

  ‘He has his good days, and he has his not so good days. But his good days are much more in number than they were, so that’s a good sign. As the years go on, things get easier for him I think.’

  ‘I'm glad to hear it,’ she says tossing another weed onto the little pile forming behind her. It must have been difficult for him losing your mother as he did; for both of you of you, in fact,’ as she speaks a clap of thunder tears across the sky.

  ‘Oops, I knew it wouldn't be long. I wanted to get these bulbs in today, never mind.’

  ‘Yep you were right,’ I pick up my carrier bag and feel the rain beginning to fall through the leaves on the tree. ‘Looks as though I’ll be leaving sooner than I thought.’

  ‘You can’t walk in this weather, come on jump in, I'll give you a lift,’ Betty motions towards her car.

  ‘No it’s fine; I’m going into the city so if you could just drop me at the nearest tube station that’ll do me.’ There’s another crack across the sky and the rain begins to pour down.

  ‘Nonsense, I’ll run you in,’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I'm positive, but hurry before we both get drenched,’ she takes hold of my arm. and I hold my plastic bag over both of our heads as we run for her car.

  Chapter 3

  Him

  ‘So tell me,’ Seraphina says as she hooks her handbag over the arm of her chair. ‘What is it this time?’

  ‘Oh, the normal, my lack of responsibility and extracurricular activities, etc. He’s obsessed, I’m sure of it.’

  ‘Ah, he's concerned with your bachelor lifestyle,’ she says.

  ‘I think he used the term “Playboy” if you’d believe that,’ Seraphina and I look at each other, then burst out laughing.

  ‘Are you two ready to order?’ a waitress arrives at our table, poised with her notebook to take down our replies.

  ‘Are you ready Seraphina?’ I ask as she eyes up the menu.

  ‘Yes, please. I’ll have number five, extra milk and no sugar please,’ she smiles at the waitress.

  ‘And you sir?’ She asks without looking up from her notepad.

  ‘The same please, but no milk or sugar thank you.’

  ‘No problem,’ she taps her pencil onto her pad then pushes it in behind her ear.

  ‘Your father just wants what’s best for you,’ Seraphina continues once the waitress has left.

  ‘That may well be Seraphina, but I’m a grown man, who’s already managed to get the best of most things for myself. He just feels so domineering sometimes.’

  ‘I'm sure he doesn't mean to. I think he'd be shocked if he knew you felt that way,’ she says.

  ‘You would think he might notice.’

  ‘Hmmm, I suspect he thinks you're just kicking back a little.’

  ‘At my age?’

  ‘He’s worked hard over the years Crawford, as you’re aware. He has lots of expertise to share with you, and maybe sometimes feels you're not as welcoming of that as he would like. He’s proud of all you’ve achieved, but at the same time, it could be quite difficult for him. Put yourself in his shoes, the two of you are perhaps more alike than either of you realise.’

  ‘So I’m just being silly?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘Here we go,’ the waitress arrives back at the table holding a tray with our drinks.

  ‘So that’s one with no sugar and extra milk.’ She lifts the cup from the tray.

  ‘Ooh that’s for me thank you,’ Seraphina says, reaching for the drink.

&
nbsp; ‘Be careful it’s hot,’ the waitress warns before lifting the second cup and passing it to me. ‘So will there be anything else?’ She asks.

  ‘No, that will be all thank you,’ Seraphina replies.

  ‘Anything at all I can get you, sir?’ She looks at me while twisting the corner of her apron between her fingers.

  ‘No, that’s all thank you,’ I reply.

  ‘Ok, well you call me if you need anything.’ She fiddles with her hair a little while smiling at me.

  ‘Laura,’ a more mature lady from behind the counter calls out causing the waitress to jump. ‘Service needed at table number five!’

  ‘Yes, of course Gloria’ she replies before moving on.

  ‘You do seem to have a way with the ladies Crawford. Why you're turning heads left and right,’ Seraphina says holding her cup in her hands and smirking over the top as she blows on her drink to cool it down.

  ‘Much to my father’s chagrin it seems. In all honesty, I think I may have my tailor to thank for the most of it,’ I laugh. It's true, he's the best tailor in Britain, Europe even perhaps.

  ‘Don’t you ever get lonely Crawford?’ She asks.

  ‘Perhaps I’m strange. But I have this crazy notion that relationships are for lovers and, well, I’ve never been in love.’ I lift my cup from the table.

  ‘So underneath that hard-edged business exterior. Lies a rather romantic soul?’ Seraphina says before taking a sip of coffee.

  ‘Is it such an unusual concept?’ I ask.

  ‘A fairy-tale romance? It is to some, but then there are others who know no other way,’ she says shrugging her shoulders.

  ‘My father for one, I couldn’t imagine him understanding it at all.’

  ‘I’ll have you know your dad can be quite the romantic.’

  ‘Okay Seraphina, that’s more than enough information thank you,’ I say and we both laugh again.

  ‘It's not that I want to stay single all my life, it’s just I haven’t met anybody who makes me feel any other way yet.’