His True Fortune - His Every Whim, Part 4 (BBW Billionaire Erotic Romance Novella) (Billionaire Romance) Read online

  PART ONE

  Drake and Samantha

  Chapter One

  Samantha

  As I hurried towards the hospital parking lot, tears spilled onto my cheeks. I needed to get away from Drake as quickly as possible and considered myself lucky when he stopped following me. My temper had the best of me. Why did he have this affect on me?!

  Wiping my tears with the back of my hand, made me even angrier. How could I cry in front of him? Of all people! I turned back towards the hospital when the raised voices I tuned out became louder.

  “Drake! Is Ashley Boone your mystery girl? Is that your baby?”

  Photographers surrounded Drake as he stood where I left him near the hospital entrance. He towered over most of them. The front of his dirty blond hair fell onto his forehead and he ran his fingers through it, pushing it back in a useless attempt.

  He wasn’t looking towards me. His head was down as if he was deep in thought as they yelled their questions at him about his love life. I felt bad for him. How ridiculous that they were trying to make him Ashley’s baby daddy…but didn’t I believe most of what they published about him?

  I shook my head. “I’m an idiot! Why do I keep pushing him away?” I said to myself.

  Heading back towards them, I noticed Drake’s expression change. Gone was the pensive look, it was replaced by narrowed brown eyes and a fierceness I didn’t recognize. His look stopped me in my tracks.

  In an instant, he reached out and grabbed one of the photographer ‘s cameras, yanked it out of his hands and hurled it down onto the concrete.

  “Get the hell away from me!” He growled fiercely.

  As the one photographer knelt on the ground picking up the remains of his camera, the others swarmed Drake. I noticed the flex of his biceps through his suit jacket and was reminded of our night in the museum.

  While my mind wandered, a photographer stumbled away from Drake. He must’ve pushed him! I couldn’t believe this was the Drake I grew up with. This wasn’t anything like the man I thought I knew. I couldn’t help but like it.

  I picked up my pace as I got closer. Drake had managed to break away from the throng of paparazzi and was using his long legs to walk towards his car haphazardly parked in a reserved doctor’s space. There was no way I could catch up.

  “Wait! Drake!” I called out as I waved to him.

  “Are you Drake Winslow’s mystery love? I have a hunch the photo of him kissing Ashley Boone was a plant to draw attention away from the truth.”

  Standing beside me was a frail looking woman around my age, with pin-straight black hair. I didn’t know what she was doing or what she was talking about. I only knew she was keeping me from Drake. I had to reach him.

  “Go away,” I hissed at her as I walked even faster towards him.

  “What’s your name? You were at the museum the other night, weren’t you? I checked the guest list and you weren’t on there. Are you the help? Is Drake slumming it with you?”

  All the fury I felt growing up in that mansion suddenly peaked. Her question brought back all my insecurities. She was right. Drake was way out of my league. But she didn’t have to point it out.

  As my hands balled up into fists, Drake got into his car and sped away. I was even more upset to miss him.

  “What did you say to me?” I asked her.

  “Are you the help? Did Drake hire you to work at the museum? Maybe he’s gotten lazy–”

  Without thinking, my fist shot up and into her face. I felt the soft spongy feel of her skin against my knuckles, and before I came back to my senses, I watched blood gush from her nose.

  “Oh! I…I oh my…” I stammered.

  “You bitch! I think you broke my nose!”

  “Sam!” Jackie came running out of the hospital, put her arm around me and began pushing me back towards the parking lot. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “But I–”

  “She had to have it coming for you to hit her. Don’t worry about it.”

  I looked over at Jackie as she drove to my apartment and thought about the difference between us. She would’ve kept her cool. She was a lot like her straight, brown, perfect pony tail and I was the mess of wild red hair. Funny how our hair matched our personalities.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Hey, you didn’t hit me, no need to apologize,” she said then laughed. “What on earth happened?”

  “Drake–”

  “Enough said. When are you going to admit you love him?”

  “What? No!”

  Sitting quietly the rest of the ride home, I thought about what she said. I used to think I loved Drake, but that was years ago. A childhood crush. He barely knew I existed back then. And yet…

  Drake inspired some of the most dramatic and passionate feelings I ever felt for or about anyone. Could it be possible that while I convinced myself I hated him, I was hiding my own true emotions? Feelings I thought were childish, but never left despite growing up?

  I didn’t know the answer to that. I only knew I hadn’t been able to get him out of my head for years. Just when I got over him, he re-entered my life and wanted to get to know me better and date. He was all I thought about again.

  Chapter Two

  Drake

  I was done. Samantha Mayfair got her wish–I would leave her alone.

  Driving away from the hospital, I thought over what happened. It wasn’t the first time I lost my temper with the paparazzi, and I was certain it wouldn’t be the last. I didn’t care about that though. I knew I could throw some money at that photographer whose camera I destroyed and the mess would go away.

  Samantha was where my thoughts really were. I vowed I would get my chance with her, but maybe I should accept what she said. Maybe we weren’t meant to be. She certainly made her feelings clear. She did not want to be with me.

  Driving into the city towards the tall glass building my offices were in, I knew I needed a distraction. I had to do something to get my mind off her.

  I entered the building and rode the elevator up to my floor. My mind settled on getting into my office and making a few phone calls. I knew just the thing I needed to put me in a better mood.

  “Mr. Winslow!” Becky, one of my assistants said as I blew past her. “Mr. Winslow, please!”

  “Not now, Becky,” I spoke between gritted teeth as I walked past her.

  Becky Spooner had blonde hair, blue eyes, and tanning bed skin. Her wrinkled face didn’t give away her age, instead it added to the confusion. She could be twenty, she could be sixty. I couldn’t tell. But she never seemed very comfortable in her skin and her voice shook when she spoke.

  “Its Mr. Harding. He’s on hold for you. He said he won’t hang up until he speaks with you.”

  “Fine, put him through.”

  As I entered my office, I heard Becky put the call through to my office phone. I closed the large door behind me and hung my dark gray suit jacket on a hanger.

  The sun streaming through the windows made me think of the beach. Natural light was the only reason I chose this office. Setting my long desk by the window, gave me the opportunity to watch the city below while managing things. I’d give anything to not be in the office, but I had a company to run and hundreds of people relying on me for a paycheck.

  Pressing the speakerphone button, I sat down and put my feet up on the desk then loosened my black silk tie as I leaned back into my plush chair.

  “Liam, this better be good.”

/>   “It is Drake. I’m almost done casting Age of Vanity. I know you wanted to start production this month.”

  “Excellent. Yes, perfect timing. I could use the distraction. What parts are left?”

  “Lady Westminster and a few bit parts.”

  “Hmm Lady Westminster… Find a redhead. And none of those scrawny actresses you’re always hiring.”

  “But Drake, that part requires a lot of nudity.”

  “Even more of a reason for her to not be skinny. It’s a period piece. She shouldn’t be thin. She needs lots of cleavage for those dresses. Trust me, she needs curves.” I paused a moment as I pushed Samantha out of my head. “And make sure she’s single.”

  Liam laughed. “That’s the old Drake I know. Been a long time since I got a request like this. Do you have anyone in mind?”

  Yes, Samantha. “No, I trust your judgement.”

  Hanging up, I turned on the plasma TV built into the wall and turned on the news with the volume muted. The reporter played video of my smashing the camera and storming away. I sighed. Seeing myself on the news like that wasn’t something a person could get used to. At least I couldn’t.

  As I reached for the remote to turn off the television, I realized they were playing another video from outside the hospital. Surprised by what I saw, I stood up, rewound, and watched it again. I laughed the third time I watched as Samantha punched the reporter and took the TV off mute.

  “Is this woman somehow tied to billionaire playboy Drake Winslow? Stay tuned to this station for up to the minute news.”

  Amused, I switched off the TV. I wondered why she went back to the hospital but knew there was only one explanation. It didn’t make sense with how she acted towards me. I clicked on the speakerphone.

  “Becky? There’s a video of Samantha Mayfair punching a reporter this afternoon. Squash it. And compensate the reporter. Make sure it’s enough that she won’t press charges.”

  “I’m on it, sir.”

  I picked up the phone ready to call Samantha, but then had another idea.

  “Becky, get Silas Wainwright on the phone.”

  “Right away, sir.” After a few minutes Becky came back on the speakerphone. “I have Mr. Wainwright on the line. I’ll put him through.”

  “Hello? Hello? Is anyone there” Silas asked.

  Silas Wainwright epitomized the term “old money”. He was a slight, elderly man who still managed the day to day books for his shipping empire by hand. Unfortunately he wasn’t a fan of technology.

  “Silas, its Drake Winslow.”

  “I thought I got disconnected. Why couldn’t you call me yourself? Your dialing finger broken? That’s the problem with your generation–you’re all lazy!”

  “Silas, please. I want to talk to you about your annual party.”

  “Yes, what about it? It’s at the Water Club like always.”

  “Do you have a caterer yet?”

  “No, no I don’t. Harder and harder to find someone who just makes good food. I don’t need this fancy shit that’s popular nowadays. I need food. Sustenance.”

  “Then I’ve got the girl for you.”

  “Not one of your floozies, Drake. No offense but I’m not using someone just because you want to get laid.”

  “No, it’s not like that. Give me some credit. This is the young lady who catered the Boone wedding.”

  “Ahh yes. The Boone wedding. So good that Xander has finally moved on and found love again.”

  “Yes, yes it is,” I said as I tapped my fingers impatiently on the desk. “Can I give you her number?”

  “Whose number? Mrs. Boone? Why do I need to call her?”

  “The caterer, old man. The caterer’s number.”

  “I’m just pulling your leg. Send me an email with her information. I take it I shouldn’t mention how I got her number.”

  “No, do us both a favor and don’t mention me at all,” I said before hanging up the phone.

  Chapter Three

  Samantha

  “I owe you. Again. I couldn’t have done this without your help,” I said to Jackie as she helped load my SUV with the food I prepared.

  “I still can’t believe you got this gig. People kill to work the Wainwright annual. And you said he just called you? Out of the blue?” Jackie asked.

  I nodded. “Yup! He said he heard about me from the Boone wedding. I guess something good did come out of that.”

  “You guess something good? Give me a break already, Sam.”

  “What?”

  “You know what I’m talking about.” Jackie tossed her dark hair over her shoulder and gave me a knowing look. “You reconnected with Drake at that wedding. Are you going to say that wasn’t good?”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “Fine. Whatever Sam. I’m tired of this.”

  As I closed the lift-gate of my truck, I turned and looked at her. Jackie had become my closest friend. She helped me at every turn and all I did was lie to her.

  “You’re right. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Its all his fault.” I sighed then looked up at her. Her arms were crossed over her chest. She knew me better than I thought. “Ok, I know its not. I’m just…confused. I spent my entire life crazy about him and nothing. Now I’m focused on starting my business, creating my own life and he walks back into it. Not only that, but he’s interested? Its too much. I can’t handle it.”

  “Why can’t you just go along with it? See what happens. Seriously Sam, if a gorgeous billionaire was after me, I wouldn’t think twice about it,” she said.

  “I know you’re right. Trust me, I see how ridiculous I’m being. But I’m so afraid of getting hurt. I remember when I still lived with my mom, seeing Drake bring home dates would kill me. Then when I was away at college I’d see his picture in the magazines dating this bimbo or that one. He’s got a reputation Jackie, how can I ignore that? I don’t want to be just another notch.”

  “Maybe its not like that. I mean why would he go after you like this if that’s all he was thinking? You’re just being stubborn.”

  I shrugged. She was right. Looking at my watch I realized I had to get going or I’d be late.

  “Right now I just want to focus on my business. Drake Winslow has distracted me enough. For God’s sake, I punched someone because of him! I’m out of control. I’m lucky I didn’t get sued.”

  As I climbed into my red Toyota, I waved to Jackie, then drove off. The party was in town along the river at a private restaurant called the Water Club. I had never been there before and didn’t know what kind of accommodations the kitchen would have, so I did as much prep as I could ahead of time.

  Following Silas Wainwright’s driving directions carefully, I managed to pull up in front of the restaurant on time. It was a tan wooden building with green accents and a glass enclosed entrance. There was a small parking lot just beyond it.

  Running between the parking lot and the calm blue river, an asphalt walkway led to the restaurant. The walkway would have been beautiful if it wasn’t for the bums passed out on several benches. In the distance I could see boats bobbing in the water as they docked near a bridge.

  The building didn’t look like much and it definitely didn’t look like a restaurant. By its appearance I was more likely to get tickets for a boat ride, than lobster there. Aside from that, it had probably seen better days. I doubted it had been renovated in decades.

  If it wasn’t for the gold etched sign over the doorway, I would have thought I was at the wrong place. As it was, I checked my GPS a couple of times as a short, thin parking attendant approached my car.

  “We’re having a private party tonight,” he said without looking at me.

  “Yes, I know. I’m the caterer,” I said, making sure he heard my snarky tone.

  Finally looking at me, he examined my face and my tightly pulled back bun. I could see him take in my chef’s coat and hat that laid in the seat beside me.

  “Park all the way in the back to the left.”

&n
bsp; “But what about my stuff?”

  He waved at another attendant who wheeled over an empty cart. I got out and they helped me load the cart with everything. Then I parked my car where he told me, grabbed my knives, coat and hat and walked back towards the restaurant as I breathed in the salty sea air and listened to the squawks of the seagulls overhead.

  As I entered the building, I saw a hint of the glamour the restaurant once had. In the corner of the two story glass lobby was a red ticket booth which doubled as a hostess stand. Dark grey tile covered the floor. Opposite from the hostess was a metal staircase with bright brass railings.

  Since no one was around, I walked past the staircase and into the bar. A fireplace burned at the end of the long room, reflecting on the honey hued wood floor. Green leather chairs lined a corner creating a waiting area. A long lacquered wood bar dominated the rest of the room, dwarfing the few tables and chairs. I had seen the bar once before in a movie and wasn’t disappointed that despite some wear, it looked exactly the same.

  “Can I help you?” A tired male voice asked from behind me.

  I turned around and saw a small, thin elderly man dressed in a navy sports coat with gold buttons and white pants. Wondering where his captain’s hat was, I stifled a laugh. He didn’t look like the type to have much of a sense of humor.

  “Yes, I’m a bit lost. I’m here to cater tonight’s event.”

  “Samantha Mayfair?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ve been expecting you. I’m Silas Wainwright.” He extended his hand to me and I shook it.

  “I didn’t expect you here so early,” I said.

  “I like to make sure everything is perfect before my guests arrive. Come with me, let me show you around before taking you to the kitchen.”

  I followed him out of the bar, through the lobby and into the dining room. The room was as worn as the rest of the building except for one thing. Beyond the linen covered tables, windows lining the back wall took my breath away.

  The windows created a wall of glass that gave every seat a gorgeous view. As I watched the sunlight sparkle on the river, I realized we were on water when a speedboat passed and its waves caused the dining room to gently rock.