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Billionaire's Unexpected Bride (Slade Brothers Book 1) Page 2
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I nod and cross my legs as I lean forward slightly. I’m sitting on the edge of my seat, waiting for whatever news he’s going to break that could potentially change my life forever.
“I’m sure you’ve heard talk about our Colorado firm.”
“I’ve heard a little, but nothing at the same time,” I say, not wanting to reveal what I’ve heard about the rumor floating around the office.
“Well, John Burns, our top lawyer in Colorado, is retiring, and we’re needing to fill that spot. This branch of the firm has plenty of clients—ranging from your typical small business owner to your everyday, run-of-the-mill nobody. But by far, our top client there is the Slade family. They own the second-largest brewery in North America, with yearly profits in the hundreds of millions. We want you to run it and take over their account. Of course they have their own internal counsel but we need you to handle some concerns they have locally—a neutral party so to speak.”
My mouth drops open, finally hearing these words from him. “I . . . I don’t understand. Run it? Like the entire account? Why me?”
He sits back in his leather chair. “You’re a top lawyer here, and you out-bill and outperform your peers by a mile. You’re young and have fresh ideas. You’re beautiful—the perfect type to get the attention of Drake Slade. You’ve proved yourself time and time again. From looking at your credentials, I have no doubt you’ll be able to complete this job to our satisfaction.”
“Thank you. That means everything coming from you. But I’m curious—is this a permanent relocation situation? I mean, sure, I’ll get to manage a branch of the firm and one of the largest clients, but then what? I’ll take on this client for how long?”
“We’re thinking a year,” he replies.
“Okay, so I’ll manage this account for a year, and uproot my life by moving. And then when the year is up, I’ll just come back here and do what I’m doing now? Is this a promotion? I don’t mean to speak out of turn here, but you should know I have my mind set on partner at this Los Angeles branch.” I have no idea where I’ve gotten the courage to speak my mind like this, especially to Mr. Mason himself, but it’s true. Why should I move for a year only to come back to the same old thing?
He seems surprised, if not a little annoyed. “Most people in the office would jump at this opportunity,” he points out.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Mason, and please forgive my bluntness, but why? Why uproot and move for a year only to come back to the exact same thing? I mean, are you saying the salary and the office will be the same—no perks, nothing?”
He chuckles deeply under his breath. “You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Teller. Reminds me of when I was your age. A real bulldog. Tell me,” he sits up, placing his elbows on the desk, “what is it that you want?”
I have no idea what I want. I haven’t thought this far. But here goes nothing. “Well, sir, for starters, I’ll need a company car for the journey.”
“Of course, that’s standard,” he agrees.
“I’ll need a place to stay once I get there. I mean, expecting me to pay there while I’m still paying rent here wouldn’t work—and I can’t lose my current place if I want to move back to Los Angeles. I spent years on their waiting list and won’t go through that again.”
He smiles and nods.
“And if I’m going to be moving, I’m going to need something to sweeten the pot and make it worth my while. I want a 20 percent raise in my salary.”
He pauses at this for a moment. “Done,” he finally states.
“And when I come back, I want a bigger office, an expense account, and my own parking spot, because if I’m making more money, I’ll be buying a car. And lastly, I want a little more power around here. I’m not asking to become partner or have my name on the building tomorrow, but I want more than what I have now, which is basically nothing more than my name on a door. Right now, I’m just another lawyer here, Mr. Mason, but I’m going to dedicate my life to this firm. I’m not looking for a free meal ticket; I’ll work my fingers to the bone to accomplish my—and your—goals for this firm.”
His eyes dart around the room as he thinks things over. “Next year, Gary Wallace will be retiring. He has an office one floor down from here—four up from your current floor. If things go well in Colorado, you can have his office.”
I can have Mr. Wallace’s office? I’ve only met him a few times, but even I know he’s untouchable here. He actually has a lot of pull when it comes to important business matters. Jeremy will never be able to touch me then.
I smile and stand, holding out my hand to shake. “I accept the position. Thank you, Mr. Mason.”
He smiles and stands, shaking my hand. “Ms. Teller?”
“Yes?”
“Not to rush you into anything, but we’ll need you on the road first thing Monday morning. That only gives you the weekend to get your affairs in order.”
That does put a rush on things, but for the newfound perks, I can do it. “That’s completely understandable, Mr. Mason. I’ll head down to my office and start packing now. Thank you again for this opportunity, sir.” I turn and head for the door. I place my hand on the handle, but turn to him before exiting. “I expect your assistant will write up the terms we’ve agreed to and have the contract in my office by the end of the day?”
He laughs but nods his head as he runs his hand across his jaw. “Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less when working in an office full of lawyers.”
I laugh nervously to myself as I step out, closing the door behind me. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves and the butterflies dancing around wildly in my belly. I pause for a brief moment, letting myself absorb it all as I calm down. His assistant turns to look at me from over her shoulder with a wide smile.
“Told ya,” she says with a wink.
I laugh. “I guess you were right after all.”
“He’s really not as scary as everyone thinks.”
“Thanks again. Have a good day,” I say, stepping toward the elevators as she picks up her phone to make a call.
When I get off on my floor, the whole office is standing and cheering for me. Several people huddle around me, telling me “congratulations” and wishing me the best. All but Jeremy, that is. I look over at his office and find him behind the glass, checking out what’s happening. He frowns at me before closing the blinds.
“Looks like we’ll have to wait a little longer for that date, after all,” Gavin says, coming up to me and pulling me in for a hug.
I smile, excited that everyone is so happy for me. We’ve really gotten close over the last year. “Not at all. Let’s do lunch,” I say, pulling away from his hug.
“Really?” he asks, a little unsure.
I nod, smile still in place. “Of course. I agreed to a date. Let’s do it.”
I spend my morning packing up my office. Before I know it, it’s going on noon and Gavin is knocking on my door.
“Come in,” I say, looking over my shoulder.
“I was thinking we could hit up that new Italian joint. Unlimited breadsticks,” he says around a smile.
I laugh. Just the thought of unlimited breadsticks is funny to me. I haven’t eaten bread or pasta in years. “Sounds perfect,” I agree, planning on sticking with a celebratory glass of wine and a salad.
Gavin leads me down to the parking garage and over to his Mercedes. He opens the passenger side door and motions for me to slide inside. Within minutes, we’re zooming through traffic on the crowded-but-moving California freeway.
“So, Colorado, huh?” he asks as he weaves in and out of traffic.
I laugh. “Yeah, I never pictured myself wearing muddy boots and chewing on a piece of straw, but here we are.”
“How long are you going to be gone?”
“A year,” I reply.
“Wow, a whole year, huh? Now I’m suddenly hoping this date doesn’t go well.” He offers up a teasing smile. “I mean, not that I don’t like you or anything,” he continues.
r /> I laugh out loud. “No, I understand. It would suck to have a great time only to put things on hold for a year. But hey, we might figure out that we can’t stand each other. So, here’s hoping,” I say.
He laughs at my stupid joke and the conversation continues its effortless flow as we pull into the parking lot at the restaurant.
When we’re seated, we start our meal with water and breadsticks. He immediately starts digging in, but I choose to sip my water.
“Not big on garlic?” he asks, raising a brow.
“I try to stay away from carbs. I spend way too many hours in spin class to throw it all away on a piece of bread.”
He shakes his head. “With a figure like yours, I wouldn’t worry about one little piece of bread.” His eyes fall down and slowly make their way back up to my eyes. I feel embarrassment wash over me, staining my cheeks.
He must pick up on it because he says, “What? I can’t be the first person to ever say you have a nice body.”
I shake my head. “No, of course not, but it’s usually not during a lunch date. Maybe a drunken night in a club or something, but not in the middle of the day.”
He sits back and shrugs. “Well, it’s true. You, Celeste Teller, are absolutely gorgeous, and I consider myself lucky to be on this lunch date with you.”
A smile forms on its own at his words. It really does suck that we waited so long for this date. Gavin is definitely the type of guy I usually go for. He’s good-looking, he’s always dressed nicely, he has a good job, and he has social standing—not that that’s all I look for. He’s one of the good ones, and I can’t believe someone hasn’t locked him down already.
I lean forward, running my finger around the rim of my glass. “How are you still single?”
He chuckles. “I could ask you the same thing.”
I sit back with a shrug. “I think a lot of guys I meet are intimidated by me. I mean, I’m a lawyer for one. Most guys just think that I’m snobby and uptight—just some rich bitch.” I say it like I’m indifferent. I’ve heard these things all my life. I wasn’t raised poor. I went to prep school and understand that I have privilege—more than most. “Most powerful men want a woman they can make a stay-at-home wife—someone they can break out for corporate parties and in front of cameras to prove they’re not sleeping around with their assistants.”
He laughs loud and hard. “Lucky for you, I’m not that type of guy.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want marriage and kids. I’m far too selfish for that. I just want someone who’s okay with keeping our lives separate—someone who wants the same things out of life.”
“And what’s that?” I ask, taking another sip of wine.
“Fun. Experiences. I want to work my job, putting in 70+ hours a week without someone expecting me home for dinner at the same time every night. I want to take lavish vacations and not worry about kids. I want to do what I want to do, when I want to do it. I work hard. I play hard.”
Our eyes lock from across the table. “It sounds like we’re made for each other.”
We eat the rest of our lunch while talking about whatever comes up. I discover that Gavin is an only child who also went to prep school. His mother and father are still happily together, but can usually be found spending their retirement on beaches around the world or on their private yacht. He’s mostly on his own, just like I am. While I have family, they’re usually doing their own thing. We only ever come together on holidays or special occasions like my parents’ anniversary, when they have a massive party only the best people are invited to. It’s always the biggest and most lavish event of the season.
Gavin and I talk all the way back to the office. When he pulls into the parking garage, he opens my door and takes my hand, helping me out. The moment I have both feet planted on the concrete, he pulls me against his chest where his lips press against mine. The kiss is soft and slow, gaining intensity. My heart pounds in my chest and butterflies tickle my stomach when his hand squeezes my hip. His tongue is sweet like wine and his rich scent washes over me, causing my eyes to flutter closed. The way he kisses, it’s strong, but not too strong. It’s enough to let me know he means the emotion behind the kiss, but not so intense that he’ll be trying to press me against the hood of his sports car.
The kiss slows and breaks away. Our eyes lock and he lets out a long breath. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to wait a whole year to do that again.”
A silent laugh escapes my lips in a puff of air. “Weren’t we supposed to find the things we hated about each other?”
He chuckles. “I tried, but I couldn’t find anything. You were put here just to keep me humble.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just a reminder that I can’t have everything I want, no matter how much money I have,” he says, pulling away.
Gavin walks me back up to the office and we promise to keep in touch over the next year. I finish packing up my office and decide to leave early for the day to get a jump-start on packing my belongings at home. But before I leave, I find the contract on my desk as Mr. Mason promised, along with a set of keys. I pick them up and smile before signing the document and handing it off to Mary.
I find the car that’s been provided for me just outside the building. It’s a shiny silver Tesla and I can’t wait to have it packed up so I can get on the road, driving toward a better life. I place my box of office supplies in the passenger seat and climb behind the wheel, heading for my apartment.
The weekend passes quickly and by Monday morning, the car is packed up and I’m dropping off a check to pay my rent for the next year. I have the trunk of the car crammed full of clothes, shoes, makeup, and jewelry. My little box of office supplies has been moved to the back. The passenger seat holds my purse, a tote bag full of snacks and drinks for the drive, and an envelope containing the paid rent receipt and keys for the place that’s been rented for me for the next year.
I program the GPS with my destination, fill up with gas, and hit the highway, ready to meet this Mr. Drake Slade and conquer Colorado so I can get back to the new fancy life waiting for me in Los Angeles at the end of the next 12 months.
Everything is looking up. There’s no doubt in my mind that I can do this job. Sure, Colorado isn’t the place of my dreams, but I can do it for a year in order to get to where I really want to be: the top of the Mason, Lawrence, and Howe Law Firm, looking down on California from my big office in the sky—maybe even with Gavin on my arm—while stepping on all the little Jeremys of the world. Life has never looked so promising.
2
Drake
“GOOD morning, sir,” Harrison, my advisor at Slade Brewery, says as he walks into my house, shaking my foot as he passes the recliner I’m sitting in.
“What’s good about it?” I ask, being the bitter smart-ass I am. I pick up my cup of coffee and take a sip.
“And what exactly is so bad about it?” he asks, sitting on the couch at my side. Harrison has been with the family—and the family business—for as long as I can remember. He’s more than just an advisor for the company; he’s an advisor for my everyday life. He’s like my own personal assistant. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without him, but I’d never let him know that.
“The sun is shining,” he continues, “birds are chirping, and the temperature is warm. This is the kind of day that makes me count my blessings.” He leans back and smiles as he looks off toward the window. The blinds are down, but they’re open, sunlight streaming through, lighting up the dust like specks of glitter.
I scoff at his statement, and that causes him to cut his eyes toward me.
“You, my boy, are bitter and cynical. Are you ever going to get out of this bad mood you’ve been in for the last four years?”
“Highly doubtful.” I sit up, kicking down the footrest as I do so. I rest my elbows on my knees, holding my cup of coffee in both hands. “So, what’s new in the world of alcohol?”
He shakes his head but lets the prior subject drop as
he sits up. “I’ve been in contact with the firm, and they’re sending someone to replace Burns this coming week. I’ve already got you on their schedule for Thursday afternoon.”
“Did you tell them that I refuse to come into town? If I’m going to have to take time out of my day to meet with this new lawyer, it’s going to be on my terms.” My voice is firm and even, making sure he understands that I’m not giving an inch on this.
He nods once. “I did,” he replies.
“Fine.” I finish the rest of my coffee and set the cup on the coffee table between us with a loud thud. “Anything else that needs to be brought to my attention?”
“I don’t think so. Everything is running smoothly at the brewery. The beer is brewing and the whiskey is just waiting for the formalities.”
I chuckle as I think about the whiskey we’ve been working on for ages. A good whiskey isn’t made overnight. It takes years to age. If this lawyer can’t get this expansion underway, then I’ll have enough whiskey to last my family a lifetime.
You see, we don’t have enough room to keep producing beer and whiskey. That’s why I need this expansion. We’ve cut way back on the amount of beer we’ve been producing because we’ve had plenty in stock. But that stock is now dwindling. We need our beer production to go back up, and the only way that can happen is if we stop making whiskey or move somewhere else entirely. But if we stop the whiskey, that’s 10 years wasted, and I refuse to waste 10 years.
“And this new lawyer, he understands the predicament we’re in, correct?”
“I relayed the message, sir.”
“And he’s sure he’ll be able to get the job done, despite the locals hating me, my family, and this business?”
He nods. “It’s worth a shot.”
“Worth a shot?” I ask, turning to face him. “It’s the only way, Harrison. If this doesn’t go through, we might as well kiss this business goodbye. Our stock is getting smaller by the day.”
“I completely understand, sir. Rest assured, I’ve done my job. Let’s just hope this new lawyer is the shark they say he is.”