Billionaire's Unexpected Bride (Slade Brothers Book 1) Page 5

  Now that my room is a little more livable, I head to take that shower. The hot water feels amazing beating against my tense, sore muscles. My lavender body wash eases away the stress I’ve been carrying all week and almost makes me forget that I’m in a town that has nothing to do. I wonder what people do here? I push the thought away, choosing instead to focus on resting and relaxing so I can get to work tomorrow. I need a clear head. I have a lot of people to meet around town, including Mr. Slade, and I have a lot of cases to familiarize myself with before I can represent my clients.

  When I finish my shower, I step out, pull on some pajamas, and sink into my nice, fluffy bed. My cell phone rings and I see Gavin’s name flash on the screen. I answer but the call drops. I quickly send him a text, letting him know the landline number for my room. Minutes later, the phone beside the bed is ringing.

  “Hello?” I answer, a smile stretching across my face.

  “How was the trip, beautiful?”

  I want to giggle, but hold it back. “Long, tiring, boring. Not eventful at all unless you’re amused by fields and tractors. And in case you’re wondering, I’m not.”

  He chuckles. “Really? You struck me as a modern-day Daisy Duke,” he jokes.

  “Ha ha,” I retort, and my fake laughter makes him laugh.

  “Well, I’m glad to hear you’ve arrived safely.”

  “Thank you for checking on me. How are things at the office?”

  “Same old,” he says. “Jeremy’s been telling anyone who will listen that the company moving you out of state is their way of pushing you out. He’s got people taking bets on whether or not you’ll return next year.”

  I scoff. “Ugh. I hate him.”

  “What’s the deal with you two, anyway? Everyone knows how much you hate each other, but no one knows why.”

  I chuckle. “It started back in college. I was his only real competition. That competition turned into hate. And then we both somehow got a job at the same company, and all that competition came back with a vengeance. He thought he was finally rid of me, but there I was, still beating him at every turn.”

  He laughs. “Yeah, sounds about right. From what I’ve seen, you do kick ass at your job.”

  My face flushes with the compliment. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”

  His voice gets low and hushed. “Tell me we’re still on for that date next year when you return? I just can’t get you off my mind.”

  Hearing the desire in his voice makes my heart race. “Absolutely. If you think I’m passing on that, you’re crazy.”

  “Just . . . don’t go falling in love with a cowboy or anything, okay?”

  I laugh long and hard. I don’t stop until my eyes are watering and my lungs crave oxygen. “That’s never going to happen. Could you see me on the arm of some cowboy?” My laughing picks back up just from thinking about it.

  He chuckles. “Good night, Celeste.”

  “Good night, Gavin.” I hang up the phone, turn out the light, and curl up in bed. The only thing I can think about is Gavin and our lunch date and how things could’ve been between us right now if we’d revealed our feelings sooner.

  My alarm goes off at 5 a.m., and I move quickly to shut it off. When the room is silent, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, hoping to prepare myself for the day. I throw back the blanket and get up—moving toward the small single-serve coffee pot sitting on the counter. I start myself a cup as I move toward the sink. I brush my teeth and wash my face before starting on my hair and makeup. As I apply the finishing touches, I finish my coffee and toss the paper cup into the trash.

  I pull on a black skirt and a white button-up dress shirt. I tuck the shirt into my skirt and put on a wide belt. I slip my feet into my favorite black heels and look myself over in the mirror. My hair is down—curled to perfection—and my makeup is perfect—not too much, but just enough to make me look professional. I add a silver necklace, my hoop earrings, and a thin chain bracelet. I put everything I’ll need into my purse and grab my briefcase on my way out the door.

  On my way to the office, I swing by the diner and grab a muffin and a cup of coffee. The restaurant isn’t full, but it isn’t completely empty either. There are a few old men sitting at the counter, drinking coffee, eating breakfast, and talking. They give me quick glance, smile, and nod their heads in my direction, but never actually address me.

  When I get to the office, it’s going on 6 a.m. I park my car and carry my things to the front glass door. I insert the key I was given and notice that my name has already been put on the door. I smile to myself as I walk inside the dark, quiet office. I turn on the lights and lock the door behind me since we don’t open for two more hours. Turning to face the office, I look over everything.

  Dark gray carpet covers the floor, and the walls are a light gray—almost white. The trim is done in white and there are lights on the walls, making it look clean and classy, but also like an upscale country office. The assistant’s desk is up front, and the nameplate on the desk reads Deborah Wiles. There are pictures on the walls, and I step closer to find that every picture is a little piece of town history. The photos show the local post office being built, a ribbon-cutting ceremony at the diner, the brewery, plus multiple photos of farms, animals, and tractors.

  I move further into the building and find my office, with my name already on the door. I push it open and flip on the light. The same gray theme greets me. I have a big oak desk with a bookcase and filing cabinets. The desk is an L-shape, with one end holding the computer, and the other side empty and clear for when I meet with clients. There are two chairs on one side of my desk, and the remainder of the room has a nice little seating area with a couch, coffee table, and big flat-screen TV. If this place had a full bath and a kitchen, I’d stay here. It’s clearly nicer than the motel I’m stuck in now.

  Instead of sitting down and getting to work, I take a moment to let it all soak in as I enjoy my breakfast and coffee. I sign in to my computer, email, and calendar. My meeting is already set with Mr. Slade. Listed alongside his name is his address with a note declaring the meeting is to take place on his property. I let out a sigh and shake my head. Clearly, Mr. Slade isn’t the come-into-town type.

  I was told to expect a lot of local travel with this position. Apparently, Mr. Burns didn’t require his clients to come to the office, and instead visited them so they didn’t have to take time out of their schedules. It’s not a big deal, but it would be easier for me if meetings took place in the office. I’d be able to fit more people into one day instead of having to spend extra time traveling.

  For the next two hours, I look over my calendar and pull files to look over for the clients I’m going to be meeting this week. Before I know it, I hear someone unlock the office door and walk in.

  “Hello?” someone calls out.

  I move quickly from my desk to the front of the office.

  A woman with blonde hair is placing her things on her desk. She’s an older woman with wrinkles forming around her blue eyes. She smiles kindly and holds out her hand. “You must be Celeste. I’m Deborah, your assistant. But you can call me Debbie.”

  I shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Debbie. I’m so happy to have you here. I feel like this would be a lot more to adjust to if I had to do it all on my own. At least you can give me a rundown on everyone in town.”

  She laughs. “I know all the details,” she agrees.

  “I have a meeting later today with Mr. Slade. What can you tell me about him?” I ask, leaning against her desk as she takes a seat and starts up her computer.

  Her eyes grow in size and she presses her lips into a tight line. “Well . . . Mr. Slade is . . . to be frank, he’s a total pain in the ass and I feel for anyone who has to deal with his shit on a daily basis.” She smiles sweetly, like that last sentence just got away from her.

  “Really?” I ask, sitting down in the empty chair across from her.

  She nods. “He’s been nothing but a problem
for Mr. Burns. You see, the brewery has been in the Slade family for years—decades, actually. When they took us on as their legal counsel, Morty Slade was running it. But it’s since been passed down to Morty’s son, Drake. And that’s when all the problems really started.” She brushes a grayish-blonde strand of hair behind her ear. “That family has been surrounded by scandal since the brewery started. It’s common knowledge around here that Alan—Morty’s father and Drake’s grandfather—paid off the zoning commissioner and got him to move some property lines so he could build the brewery. The thing is, there’s no proof, which means he got away with it. Since the day construction started on the brewery, the other families in town have had serious issues with the Slade family. And those problems haven’t stopped. They believe their land was stolen from them—making the Slade family billions in the process as they’ve grown to become one of the largest breweries in the country. Every now and then, one of them will pitch a fit about something, but mostly, it’s just bad-mouthing around town. The Slade family is basically the black sheep of this town. In the eyes of the locals, they can’t do anything right. It doesn’t matter that they single-handedly rebuilt the only school in town, or that the tax money the brewery pays is the money that gets things done around here. It doesn’t matter that they donate to every charity event.”

  “So what you’re saying is that the Slade family isn’t really bad? They just have a bad rap?”

  She nods. “Yes, for the most part. Drake and his brothers grew up being hated. It’s turned them into outsiders. They’re not accepted no matter what they do. After a while, they just stopped trying. They rarely come into town, which means you’ll have to go to him for any appointment. Drake is arrogant and believes that since he’s the client paying us the most money, he’s automatically the most important. He will call and want something at the drop of a hat, and he can’t be told no or hang on. He wants what he wants, when he wants it.”

  “Deep down, how do you feel about Drake Slade?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I don’t think he’s a bad guy; I think he’s just misunderstood.” Her face reddens. “But I’ve always had a thing for the bad boys.” She lets out a nervous giggle and I can’t help but join in her laughter.

  After our giggles die down, I sit back in my chair. “So what I need to do is befriend Drake and get him to join the town, while getting the town to accept him. Once everyone is happy, I’ll get those signatures and we’ll be able to move forward with this expansion.”

  “Easier said than done,” she says, tapping her pencil on her desk. “Three families believe their land was stolen by the Slades.” She opens her desk and pulls out a map. “Mr. Burns had the land photographed by drone.”

  When she unrolls the map, it’s a big photograph of the brewery. There’s the massive building with a rather large parking lot. Surrounding it is nothing but farmland.

  “This corner lot here belongs to the Reynolds family. The plot on this end belongs to the Jones family. And here in the center is the Smith family. They claim the Slades stole their back 20 acres. And this land across the street is owned by the Mason family.”

  “Wait, why do we need approval from the Mason family?”

  “Because this area is technically a farm zone. Any business that moves next to their property line has to be agreed upon, because the noise of running a factory can be disruptive to the farm animals. When animals are disturbed, they get stressed and lose weight, meaning they won’t bring in as much at auction.”

  “But the brewery is already there. They’ve already agreed, right?”

  “They agreed for the plot of land the brewery’s on now. However, Mr. Slade’s plans call for the expansion to be built across the street. That plot of land already belongs to the Slade family, but it wasn’t in the original contract with the Mason family. You have to get the Mason family to agree to the land being used as a business zone instead of a farming zone.”

  “Well, that shouldn’t be too hard, right? I doubt one more building is going to affect their livestock when they’re already used to the brewery being across the street.”

  “To a normal person, yes. But these families aren’t normal people. The Slades are hated. Word has it that the Mason family is going to deny their request just because they can. They were well-paid when they signed the contract decades ago, but the new generation running the farm now has had a beef with the Slades in the past. They’re just looking to put a kink in their plan.”

  I throw myself back and a long breath escapes me. “This sounds like it’s going to be a royal pain in my ass.”

  She nods. “I hope you’re up for a challenge.”

  “What choice do I have?”

  I spend the morning organizing my office before heading out for my dreaded meeting with Mr. Slade. Debbie wishes me “good luck” as I pass by her desk.

  “Thanks. Something tells me I could really use it,” I laugh out as the door closes behind me.

  I get behind the wheel and pull out my map since my cell doesn’t work out here in the middle of nowhere, and I’m the only Tesla owner with a broken GPS. Starting the car, a sense of dread settles over me. Suddenly, I’m filled with nerves and fear. What if I can’t get the job done? I’ve never let down the firm before. And if Drake Slade is as bad as Debbie claims, then he’s not going to make my job any easier. My only hope is getting him to let his guard down. I have to make him want to be a part of this town—want to be friends with the people who live and work here. It’s the only way this will work, and I just pray he can see that.

  4

  Drake

  I’M working in the barn when I hear the crunch of gravel behind me. Confused as to who it could be, I turn and walk out, stopping quickly when I almost run into a leggy blonde. My fingers tighten around the handle of the hammer I’m holding. Her glimmering green eyes flash from mine, to the hammer, and back. They’re now filled with fear. Her thick, plump lips part and her hand flies up to her heart.

  “Oh, you scared me,” she stutters as her feet start backstepping. “Are you Drake Slade?” Her hands are visibly shaking. Her voice is nervous and full of fear, even though I can tell she’s desperately trying to control it.

  “I am. Who are you?” I ask, sliding the hammer into the loop on my tool belt.

  With the tool—or I guess, weapon—no longer in my hand, she forces a smile and holds out her hand. “I’m Celeste Teller. I’m the new lawyer who’s replacing Mr. Burns.”

  It takes a moment for her words to register. I glance down at my watch, realizing I completely lost track of time again. I totally forgot about the appointment. I look at her soft, dainty hand but make no move to shake it. I look her up and down instead. She’s tall in those black high heels, and I can’t take my eyes off of her shape. Her tanned legs look soft—giving me the urge to feel them wrapped around my hips. Her long blonde hair is curled and hanging down her back, softly brushing against the slender neck I can picture myself kissing.

  I shake my head. What the fuck is wrong with me? “You? You’re the lawyer they sent to replace Burns?” I ask, my voice gravelly and rough.

  She nods. “That’s right. I look forward to working with you. I’ve heard so much about you already.”

  I laugh—or more accurately, I grunt. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ve heard some wonderful things,” I say, but the words come out sounding a little sarcastic and bitter.

  She finally lets her hand fall, realizing I’m not going to shake it. “My assistant’s told me all about what you’re doing here, and what you’re needing from the firm.” The forced smile is back in place.

  “Did she now?” I ask, turning and walking back into the barn.

  She follows. “She did. But I’d like to go over the specifics with you, if you don’t mind.”

  “Did she tell you that I need this project completed within a year?”

  “I do know that.” She nods matter-of-factly. “In fact, I’m only set to be here a year and I refuse to let things go unfinished. I
’m just as excited about getting to work on this as you are.”

  Her voice is sweet. It teases me. It makes my muscles tighten, my back straighten. My heart starts beating harder. My lungs demand more oxygen. And all of these damn responses from my body make me hate her. After Casey, I swore to myself that I’d never be controlled by anyone ever again. I’d managed to keep that promise this whole time, until now. Now I can’t even force myself to breathe like a normal person. I wipe my sweaty palms down my jeans, drying them and mentally threatening to tear them off if they betray me again.

  I pick up my beer and take a swig, hoping to wash away these uneasy feelings clawing their way up my throat. “And how is it you expect to get the job done?” I can’t help but look her up and down once again. Those heels, that skirt, her perfectly manicured nails, that hair, the done-up face—everything reminds me of her. Casey. I’m sure she’s just like her too. All they care about is themselves. They don’t care who they hurt, as long as they get what they want.

  She looks down at her feet as she kicks the dirt. “I have a plan,” she says around a smile as she places one hand on her hip.

  “Care to clue me in?”

  “I intend to. Once we can have a formal meeting instead of standing in the dirt.”

  “What’s wrong with the dirt?” I ask, a grin forming on its own. “You’ll never make it out here in the country if you can’t handle a little dirt.” Teasing her gives me a little of my control back.

  She rolls her eyes and it makes me want to bend her over my knee.

  “You got me, Mr. Slade. I’m a city girl through and through,” she says, walking closer to me as slowly as she can. “But I don’t mind getting my hands a little dirty when needed. On the other hand, I do believe in doing business the proper way. And that includes a sit-down meeting where everything can be addressed. I want to know everything you have planned. Everything you expect of me.” She’s standing right in front of me now, looking up with those big green eyes. She’s so tiny compared to my height and weight. I want nothing more than to throw her over my shoulder and take her into the house where I can show her what I expect from her.