Billionaire's Dilemma – Part 1: Bad Boy Gone Good, #1

By Roxie Odell

The world's wealthiest people didn't get rich by accident. Whether by smart investment, sharp business intuition, or a combination of talent, grit and circumstance, billionaires have done something right. Or they had a whole lot of luck—a crap-load of it.

Tag is the son of a billionaire, who's never had to work a day in his life. He has everything he's ever wanted, that is, until one night during a party at his lake house when a chance encounter with a stunning beauty makes him realize that he wants more. There's something about Melanie that he can't get out of his mind, or his heart.

When his controlling and manipulative father suffers a heart attack, Tag is suddenly thrown into the formerly distant world of his father's business. Much to Tag's surprise, the CEO chair fits him like a glove, and it's even sweeter once he realizes his father's assistant is none other than the mystery woman he spent the night with. Melanie doesn't want anyone to know about them, and that's the only way she'll continue to see him.

Will Tag be able to keep their love affair a secret?

How will he handle things when it comes time for his father to return? Will he give up his father's throne?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dark Shadow Publishing
• Release date: Apr 7, 2018
• ISBN: 9781536562903

Roxie Odell

Steamy Romance author Roxie Odell brings you heat, steam and romance in her stories. Be ready to sweat! Find her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RoxieOdell/?ref=hl Follow her newsletter: http://eepurl.com/b9G7JX Twitter @roxieodellauthor

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Bad Boy Gone Good Series

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

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Billionaire’s Dilemma – Part 1:

THE WORLD’S WEALTHIEST people didn’t get rich by accident. Whether by smart investment, sharp business intuition, or a combination of talent, grit and circumstance, billionaires have done something right. Or they had a whole lot of luck—a crap-load of it.

Tag is the son of a billionaire, who’s never had to work a day in his life. He has everything he’s ever wanted, that is, until one night during a party at his lake house when a chance encounter with a stunning beauty makes him realize that he wants more. There’s something about Melanie that he can’t get out of his mind, or his heart.

When his controlling and manipulative father suffers a heart attack, Tag is suddenly thrown into the formerly distant world of his father’s business. Much to Tag’s surprise, the CEO chair fits him like a glove, and it’s even sweeter once he realizes his father’s assistant is none other than the mystery woman he spent the night with. Melanie doesn’t want anyone to know about them, and that’s the only way she’ll continue to see him.

Will Tag be able to keep their love affair a secret?

How will he handle things when it comes time for his father to return? Will he give up his father’s throne?

Contents

Find Roxie Odell:

Bad Boy Gone Good Series

Billionaire’s Dilemma – Part 1:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter15

Chapter 16

Book 2 Description:

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Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 1

I RAN MY HANDS ALONG the green felt of the pool table, taking my sweet time getting the cue stick in position. I could sense Michael getting pissed off behind me, tapping his foot impatiently, no doubt waiting for the first strike of the game to determine which side he’d throw his money towards. He did this with everything we did: shots, beer pong, golf. You name it, and Michael has probably tried to bet on it. He’s also probably won a large sum of money on it too. Suckering people out of their hard-earned cash was one of his favorite hobbies and his main source of income. I gave him the smile he always told me was condescending, which it was meant to be, partially, but mostly I just hoped I could break his lifelong winning streak. I was even willing to throw a game of pool to do it.

I shot the white ball straight down the middle, creating a whirlwind of colors, purples, blues and yellows, spinning and knocking into each other at lightning speeds. A striped ball was the first to fall into a hole, and many of its kind followed, tumbling down and piling up in the netting underneath. It took an agonizingly slow time for it all to stop spinning, and our buddy David waited patiently, cue ready at his side, for his chance at impressing Michael.

Good shot, David said, lining up at the end of the table.

I could tell he meant it, which was refreshing considering our present company: David, a hopeless gambler, Jeremy, an alcoholic, and my ex, Katrina who I couldn’t seem to ditch. Okay, so maybe that’s a bit harsh. Jeremy was a recovering alcoholic, after all.

David hit the white ball with too much force, and we all watched as it danced around the table, bouncing off corners and knocking balls, but never managing to push anything into a hole.

Michael sat on the bar countertop, a bad habit I had considered using a spray bottle to break. He downed a glass of something brown and bubbling then placed a couple of Ben Franklins on my side of the table. We exchanged a look, and something in his eyes hinted at our roles as co-conspirators, as if we were both in on this joke against David, as if this wasn’t an attack on his flawless gambling repertoire.

I went next and used my cue stick to drive the white ball straight into the hole. When I turned to him again, Michael wasn’t smiling anymore.

David looked between us, trying to decide if this was a fight he needed to prevent or a harmless game he could watch play out.

You know, Jeremy said, patting David on the back. I think this time, I’m going to bet on you. Free drinks for a week if you can beat Tag.

Tag’s throwing the game on purpose, Michael complained.

What an accusation! I laughed, shaking my head. Why would I do anything to ever betray the trust of my dearest friend?

Michael gave me a solid view of his middle finger before returning to his perch on the bar countertop.

Katrina laughed and collapsed into the barstool below him, clutching a bottle of Bud Light as if it could somehow balance her. She always did have a low tolerance for alcohol, but it came in swings; first she would be tipsy, then completely sober, then back to knocking into furniture a second later. I didn’t understand her one bit.

Even though I tried my best to throw the rest of the game, it was still a frustratingly slow process to let David win. He was farsighted, so he held the cue stick with a fist, and he never seemed to get how to prevent the white ball from landing in the hole on just about every turn.

After a couple rounds of scotch and a whole lot of inner patience, all that remained were three striped balls and two solid balls. All I needed was for him to sink those last two, and Michael would be out 500 dollars and a great deal of pride.

With all his clumsiness and partial blindness, David somehow managed to coerce one into the hole, and I felt a smile stretch my lips to an almost painful degree, thinking about this small victory in the war against gambling addiction. Or maybe, I just really wanted to stick it to Michael. Yeah, that was probably it.

I hit the white ball with no effort or direction, and I immediately set down my cue stick to grab a drink, knowing it was over. The frosty cold of the glass had just barely touched my lips when I heard Michael scream, and Katrina—no, Jeremy, wail. I turned around just in time to see the white ball crash into the eight ball and send it spiraling into the depths of the pool table’s holes. I looked around for the other striped balls, for any sense of security, any sign that I could still salvage this act of petty revenge, but there were none in sight. The only balls that remained were completely solid in color.

Michael got into Jeremy’s face, hollering and being his usual boisterous self. I kind of felt bad for the guy. I mean, I was upset at the results, but at least I didn’t have anything of value on the line. A week of drinks for Michael practically meant a lifetime supply.

Sorry, Tag, Katrina said, placing a hand on my shoulder more for her balance than my comfort. I know you really wanted to take Michael down a peg, but he, well, he’s probably psychic. There’s no way you can beat a probably psychic gambler.

I don’t know about you, David said, saddling up to my side and joining the conversation, watching as Michael and Jeremy hurled threats back and forth. But I think this might have actually been a good thing. If he’s got to finance Michael’s tab, he’ll have nothing left for his own. He might actually get his first chip for AAA.

I laughed at that, although he meant it more in a hopeful way than a sarcastic way.

David left our side to placate Jeremy, which would be no easy task considering how much of a sore loser he was and how much of a sore winner Michael was.

Katrina and I watched on in silence because there was nothing more we had to say to each other while our mutual friends were occupied with their own devices. It always seemed to be like this with her ever since we broke up. She hung around, maybe for the company, maybe for the free drinks, I didn’t know, but it felt like she wasn’t entirely there, not the way she’d been when we had been together. I hated to think I had anything to do with that, with her losing her spark, but there wasn’t much I could do to make up for it. Getting back together would be disastrous for both of us. So for now, I just hoped I could help her just by being her friend, even if it meant withstanding awkward silences like these. Really, I was a trooper.

I studied looked her as she watched the scene in front of us unfold, saw the dark circles under her eyes and the sad smile that shaped her lips as she watched David play peacemaker.

Her green eyes darted towards me, without even moving her head, and glanced back in front of her. Is it just me, she said slowly, her face still angled away from me. Or does David look happier than normal?

I don’t know. He’s always been a happy-go-lucky kind of guy. I’d say he’s just being himself, I replied, scratching the back of my neck.

She shook her head, stumbling a little bit in her heels but regaining balance relatively well. There’s something else, I think. Normally, he wouldn’t even try to play pool against you. Something’s put him in –in a better mood.

If you say so, I murmured.

She set her beer bottle down on the counter and began to unlatch the straps of her ungodly high stilettos. Hey, boys, she called, You think we can continue this lovely little gathering in the hot tub? It’s getting too chilly in here.

We all exchanged looks and shrugs. Michael didn’t waste any time stripping down to his bare chest. I took off my shirt, too.

David kept his on, watching all of us uneasily. I don’t know. I really should get back home. Eliza gets worried when I come home late.

Whipped! Jeremy hollered from the right wing bathroom.

David laughed. Yeah, I guess I am.

I can’t imagine why she would be worried, Katrina said innocently.

Yeah, what’s her problem? Michael asked, turning on the jets to the hot tub, You’re in good hands here.

Of course, David replied, sounding very unconvinced. She just wants to know I’m safe is all. That’s what happens when you marry someone you care about, whether or not they’re lying in a ditch somewhere.

Excuse you, I interjected, This ditch you’re lying in is paradise. I suggest you enjoy it a little bit longer before you have to go home to the Mrs.’s.

David sighed before conceding, Fine. But only to keep an eye on you guys. If I catch Jeremy with anything stronger than a Sprite, I’m going to haul him to rehab myself.

That won’t be necessary, Jeremy said, emerging from the bathroom in his swimsuit.

I hope for all of our sakes, you’re right. Michael scoffed, sinking down into the frothing whirlwind of the hot tub.

I joined him, Katrina and Jeremy not too far behind me, followed suit.

I’m going to change, David announced to the deck at large. And there better not be any suspicious activity while I’m gone. He pointed an accusatory finger at Jeremy, who put his hands up in mock innocence.

Suspicious activity, Katrina repeated once he had left, the corner of her lips tugging upwards in a conspiratorial smile. He’s one to talk.

What do you mean? Jeremy asked, David’s the least suspicious out of all of us.

And the least active, Michael added.

Oh, you boys, she lamented. So oblivious; what would you do without my emotional intuition and attention to detail?

Um, probably drink less, Michael retorted.

She smacked him in the arm. It didn’t look like it hurt any, but that didn’t stop Michael from yelping. Oh, shut up, you baby. I barely even hit you. Anyways. David never plays pool, especially when he knows Michael’s gambling on it, and the dude’s all about personal space, yet he agreed to join us in the hot tub. Any of you remember the last time he did that?

All we gave her as an answer were blank stares and half-hearted shrugs.

Okay. She sighed. I know, I have to spell it out for you. The last time he was this lenient with his self-proclaimed morals was after he proposed to Eliza. She waited for a reaction after dropping that bomb on us, but she was met with much of the same disinterest as before. Well? she demanded.

What? So David’s in a good mood. Jeremy shrugged, It happens.

No, she shook her head, David’s in a good mood when he doesn’t cut us all off after two shots. David’s practically walking on cloud nine if he’s not even saying anything about how many beers we’ve put away in the last half hour alone. All of us are a breathalyzer test away from a suspended license.

Except me. Jeremy piped up.

Except Jeremy. Katrina amended.

Maybe we finally wore him down, Michael suggested.

But— Katrina started.

Besides, I said, cutting her off. If something major did happen to David, he would’ve told us by now.

Katrina rolled her eyes, clearly frustrated with all of us. Um, yeah. He’s kind of the worst at keeping secrets, if you haven’t noticed, and I—

Who’s the worst at keeping secrets? David asked, appearing suddenly behind us and then settling into the hot tub beside Katrina. We were all quiet for too long, and he shot everyone a look. I said no suspicious activity. He reminded us.

And we weren’t participating in any. Katrina was quick to find her voice again. Michael was just telling us about this guy he beat in a game of Texas holdem.

Okay. That’s civil enough." David shrugged.

Nothing’s civil when it comes to Michael, Jeremy muttered, still thinking about the hit his bank account might take from treating Michael’s bottomless stomach for a full week.

Michael must have recognized that sentiment in him because he clamped his hand on his shoulder and said, Don’t worry. I’m not going to drive you to bankruptcy. Probably.

Reassuring. Jeremy deadpanned.

I dipped further down into the hot tub, letting the foaming water rise above my mouth and nose, closing my eyes as I felt the warmth envelope me. Sometimes, I needed a breather from my friends, as great as they were to have around normally, and the water just felt so good. When I came back up for air, Katrina was talking about some incident that happened at her work.

Katrina caught my eye and asked, Taren Alexander George the Second, are you zoning out on me?

Yeah, he is because your stories suck, Michael said. Jeremy’s wallet can’t handle the amount of liquor I need to get through them.

Fine, then, she said smugly, eying Michael like a lioness with eye on her prey. I’ve got a better story. It’s about a guy named Michael who wet the bed in high school. We were on a school field trip and—

He splashed her right in the face, and after taking a moment to get her bearings, she began splashing back at him, making tidal waves in a hot tub that was never meant to contain a water fight between two grown ass adults.

Oh, come on, Jeremy interjected. I’ll admit that was a low blow, but please don’t get chlorine in my eyes for Katrina’s sake. She’s not worth the permanent damage to my eyes. Revenge is never the answer.

I’m with Jeremy on this one, I agreed. My dad’ll be pissed if all this water ends up warping the wood of the deck.

Ah, spoken like a true millionaire freeloader. Katrina laughed, splashing some water my way.

I wiped my face off with dignity, never rising to the bait.

Yeah, how’s the job hunt going for you? Michael asked sardonically.

I could work, I conceded. I just don’t really see the appeal is all. Now will you stop attacking us?

Please? David added.

I could stop splashing, Michael mocked. "I just don’t really see the appeal