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Hot Billionaire's Story: So Hot Billionaires, #10
Hot Billionaire's Story: So Hot Billionaires, #10
Hot Billionaire's Story: So Hot Billionaires, #10
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Hot Billionaire's Story: So Hot Billionaires, #10

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A successful billionaire. An independent shop owner. An unexpected turn of events.

Mallory only ever wanted one thing in her life—to have a successful coffee shop run by her and someone she loves. Her desire to fulfill her dreams took hold and she made many sacrifices for her shop, including sacrificing her personal boundaries by dating someone who hardly had any time for her. 

 

But when the bank threatens to foreclose, she reaches blindly for straws—and for her ex-fiancé.

 

And discovers her ex-fiancé's interest in investing in her dreams. 

 

Tom wants to purchase the loan. He wants to take her out on dates and heal their relationship. She obliges happily only to be torn when an old friend pops up from the past—a man she never thought would ever take interest in her.

 

But when Jared starts writing an article about her shop, she starts to like him...more than she planned.

 

Now Mallory has to make a choice. 

 

Does she go for what's familiar or does she choose a new path, one that could be worth the risk?

 

And when she makes her choice, will she be able to live with the consequences?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherDM
Release dateMay 25, 2020
ISBN9781393707295
Hot Billionaire's Story: So Hot Billionaires, #10

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    Hot Billionaire's Story - Melody Love

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    Chapter One

    Jared

    I huddled over my laptop as the city erupted behind me, the sound of the hustle and bustle of life filling my office with white noise. It helped me concentrate. Although spring in South Carolina meant the air was thick with pollen, it didn't bother my nose like it bothered others. Fresh air kept my mind at ease and helped me focus. I didn't have to worry about allergies.

    As I honed in on the words erupting across the screen, I heard a gentle tap from the door. I continued typing while I raised my gaze to my secretary, Becky.

    She smiled warmly. Someone is here to see you, Mr. Wentz.

    Who?

    "She's from The Carolina Daily."

    Very well. Send her in.

    I stopped typing and folded my laptop, closing out the document I was working on. Although I was a successful businessman with my own company, I had a passion for writing. Something was soothing about the written word that called to me and I could never resist putting my thoughts to paper.

    Or, in my case, thoughts to keys.

    I turned my attention to the tall brunette woman walking into my office.

    "Good morning, Mr. Wentz. My name Mariah and I'm with The Carolina Daily."

    She extended her hand to me and I took it firmly, shaking it.

    Lovely to meet you, Mariah. What can I do for you today?

    She sat down on the cushioned chair in front of my desk, balancing a briefcase on her lap. Well, we were quite impressed by the articles you wrote for our paper recently. We've received such an awesome response from our audience.

    I'm very glad to hear that. I enjoy writing.

    And we can tell. We were wondering if you would like to write a series for us.

    I hummed curiously. What kind of series?

    Whatever you think would benefit the community.

    I sat for a moment in pensive thought, taking up a pen I had sitting next to my laptop. I tapped it on the desk a few times as I considered her offer.

    If you're concerned about payment, we can discuss that, she added.

    I chuckled. Oh, I'm not concerned about that, Miss Mariah.

    What could we do to encourage you to write for us? We're really quite taken by your work.

    I took a breath and exhaled slowly, deliberately. The appeal for me is in the writing itself, so I think I can do a series for you.

    Excellent! My boss will be happy to hear it. What do you want to write about?

    Let me think about that and I'll get back to you.

    That sounds fair to me. She procured a business card from her briefcase and handed it over. My personal line is listed just at the bottom. Let me know if you have any questions or need to bounce any ideas. I'll be happy to hear them.

    As she rose from her seat, I rose with her. "I appreciate your consideration, Mariah. It means a lot that The Carolina Daily values my work."

    It's not every day we come across someone who can write like you.

    Ah, you flatter me.

    She chuckled lightly. I'm only repeating what my boss said. I mean, I certainly feel much the same in that regard.

    I'm glad to see it helps someone somewhere.

    Did you always want to get into writing?

    I shrugged. I think I saw it more as a passionate hobby than anything else.

    Well, between you and me, you could potentially make it a career. With all your success here, that could be an easy transition.

    I've certainly thought about it.

    She smiled warmly. This might be your chance to get into it. Thank you for your time today, Mr. Wentz. I appreciate it.

    Let me walk you out.

    Thank you.

    I walked her through the office and to the front where my secretary sat. After showing her out the door, I turned to Becky with a sigh. Hold my calls for the afternoon.

    Yes, Mr. Wentz.

    Thank you, Becky.

    I wandered back to my office with my hands in my pockets. The office was full of life, of my people working diligently at their desks. Phones rang idly in the background as keys clacked and people made their usual people noises—throats cleared and chairs squeaked while they adjusted their positions. The hum of it all lulled me into a peaceful state.

    When I was back inside my office, I shut the door and strolled to the window, stroking my chin as I watched the traffic pass by. It was the same afternoon traffic as always. Students rode by on their bicycles as motorists filled the streets with chugging engines and exhaust. The whole city was ablaze, as hot and fiery as my mind. I couldn't quite settle on one specific topic. Rather, a whole slew of them scrolled through my mind on a marquee.

    I could write about pollution, the homeless problem with a suggested solution, the littering issue we've faced in recent months, and the influx of tourists for our attractions.

    I hummed thoughtfully.

    There's so much and yet I can't seem to choose any one thing.

    I relaxed into my office chair, still facing the window. I watched the sun sparkle over the office windows across from my building and illuminate the sidewalk in bright patches. The light glared back at me, causing me to wince every so often when I turned the wrong way and caught a ray in the eye. I blinked away the spots in my vision as I turned back to my desk.

    I carefully pushed my laptop aside and grabbed a pad of paper, picking up the pen I had previously been playing with. I drew a circle map with interlocking loops and filled them with ideas, scribbling wildly across the page as I attempted to decide on a topic. Everything seemed relevant.

    It is a series, I reflected. Which means I could write about all of these at some point. But what should I choose first? Where should I start?

    It was always the hardest part of writing—the beginning. I always felt like I started and stopped like a finicky engine, unable to gain momentum while also resisting the urge to quit. The only way for me to choose would be to talk to someone who knew the city inside and out.

    And that person had to be my roommate from college, Max.

    I patted my pockets to find my phone. I could keep up with an entire business model, but I couldn't keep up with the most simple device known to man. I scanned the desk in front of me and then checked my office chair, muttering under my breath. When I finally located my phone, it was in my suit jacket pocket hanging across the room.

    I shook my head as I scrolled through my missed messages. I opened a new text and typed up a quick message to Max: Hey, can you help me with something?

    Within seconds, the three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen, indicating he was typing. I went back to my chair and relaxed, glancing at the clock. It was late in the afternoon on a Friday and I was already running out of energy. No wonder I couldn't choose my writing prompt. I was exhausted.

    I glanced back at my phone when it vibrated.

    Sure, what's up, dude? he replied.

    "The Carolina Daily wants me to write a series of articles benefiting the community. I've got ideas, but I can't choose. Help?"

    Oh, that's a hard one.

    I sighed. I know, right?

    Where do you even start?

    You're the city manager—you tell me.

    The dots appeared again, dancing at the bottom of our chat. I became mesmerized by them and sleepily leaned forward, catching myself before I could lose consciousness. I shook my head.

    Did you make an idea map? he asked.

    I did, but it's not helping. I think it made me even more overwhelmed.

    I can understand that. Why don't we meet next week and go over some of your ideas?

    I nodded. That sounds like a good plan. Should we do lunch at that new diner around the corner?

    How about coffee? We could grab a cup and a quick bite at The Porch Coffee House.

    That sounds good. Want me to schedule it with my secretary?

    Sure, that would be great! I can bring some recent opinions from our people, too. That could give you a good direction to go.

    I smiled and rubbed the scruff on my cheek, typing with one hand, That would be immensely helpful. I don't know why I didn't think of that before.

    That's what I'm here for!

    Alright, I'll set up our lunch. Are you up for Monday?

    Monday isn't good, but Tuesday works perfectly.

    I reached for the intercom on my desk and pressed the button for my secretary. Hey, Becky?

    Yes, Mr. Wentz?

    Could you schedule a mid-day coffee meet with Max on Tuesday?

    Yes, sir. I'll do that now.

    Excellent. Thank you.

    I stared down at my phone. Max was asking what time we should meet.

    I shrugged at my phone and typed, I told my secretary mid-day, so about noon.

    Perfect. That should work for me. I'll let you know if it doesn't.

    I appreciate your help, Max. It means a lot.

    Sure thing, man.

    I sighed as I set down my phone. The traffic outside was thickening, growing as much as the allergens occupying the air. Already I could see a layer of yellow pollen on the sill and I reached out to close the window, shutting out the rest of the world.

    Though I was tired, I retained a sense of excitement. I would be able to really put my writing skills to use in a different area. As much I enjoyed owning and running my own business, I was beginning to grow bored of it in ways that writing could help fix.

    At least, I hoped that's what it did.

    Chapter Two

    Mallory

    It was another typical Monday. I was already serving up my regulars their favorite drinks while minding the foot traffic, hoping that we would get full again like we did a couple of weeks ago. I grabbed a fresh mug to make a cappuccino. As I set the mug beneath the machine, I turned my head.

    Hey, Vanessa, could you take care of that Carolina Cafe order?

    Vanessa smiled. Sure thing, girl.

    While she went to work filling the order, I finished up the cappuccino and swirled a cute cat design into the foam. I set it carefully on the counter in front of one of our dedicated regulars, Mitzy.

    Here you go! I said cheerfully. I did a cat today.

    Ah, I love it, Mallory. You always do the best designs!

    I nodded humbly. Well, I have you to thank. I wouldn't have started doing it had you not suggested it.

    I'm glad you did. You're totally talented at it.

    Mitzy wandered over to her usual spot and sank into a corner with a college textbook. I studied the cover. It was some kind of Chemistry book, something I wouldn't ever have the capacity to sit and read.

    I could never do that, I said as I went to wash my hands.

    Do what? Vanessa asked.

    Go back to college. Our regular is reading a Chemistry textbook and I just have so much respect for that kind of dedication.

    She laughed. I bet you could do it. I mean, you're keeping us floating, right?

    I am doing my best.

    And you're the best at it! Gordon chimed in.

    I peeked over Vanessa's shoulder to see Gordon doing his famous cup dance. He tossed one paper cup into the air and let it flip before catching it and setting it under a coffee machine as he tossed the other one underneath a different machine. The couple standing in front of the counter clapped as they watched him work.

    I rolled my eyes as I grabbed a fresh towel and dried my hands. He sure likes showing off.

    "He always likes showing off, Vanessa added. But that doesn't stop him from getting his work done."

    Which is what I appreciate so much about him.

    Is it me or has his showing off habit gotten a little extra lately?

    I shrugged. I haven't noticed much of a difference.

    He does this when I'm not working, right?

    Why would you ask that?

    Just suspicious.

    I laughed. Oh, are we rehashing that conversation?

    She winked. You know I've always had my suspicions.

    "I still don't know why you don't just ask him if he likes you."

    She shushed me while holding up a finger, looking like I had just threatened to take her life. Because that's not how that works!

    Gordon appeared suddenly, twirling a hand towel. How what works?

    Business, I blurted with a wide smile. We were talking about business.

    And how is business?

    It's going.

    He eyed us both carefully before sliding to the register to take the next order.

    Vanessa nudged me with her elbow. Looks like your cute brother decided to drop in.

    I flipped around just in time to see my brother, Max, walking into my shop. I waved him over. Hey there, Max. You must not be busy to come dropping in here.

    I wanted to scope out the menu to see what you have. I'm meeting Jared here tomorrow for a brain session.

    I arched a brow at him. Jared? You mean from college?

    Yeah, he was my roommate. I haven't heard from him in the longest.

    I was about to say—you haven't mentioned him for a hot minute.

    I mean, I've been busy with work and he's been busy with his company, so it's just how that goes.

    I shrugged. We all go our separate ways.

    But it sure will be nice to catch up.

    Oh, definitely! Here, I'll grab a menu for you. I turned and snagged a menu from beneath the counter, holding it up to Max. When he reached for it, I snatched it away. But only if you say please.

    He rolled his eyes. Mallory, you're such a brat.

    I waited quietly while holding his gaze. It took a few minutes, but he finally relented and said, "Alright, please."

    I'm so lucky that you put up with me.

    He laughed as I handed him the menu. You're the luckiest sister ever.

    Come have a cup with me. I need to sit down anyway.

    I made us both fresh cups of coffee, making sure to put extra sugar in his. He always liked his coffee super sweet. I never understood why he had such poor taste in coffee. It was perfectly good without all the extra stuff, although I wouldn't knock the fact that a little sugar went a long way. As we sat in the back corner, I leaned against my hand, planting my elbow into the table.

    Tell me about the city, I said while watching him get settled. How's the stuff going?

    Oh, the stuff is going. I have another budget meeting to attend in— He glanced at his watch and sighed. —well, soon. I can't stay for long.

    I get it. My brother runs this city. You're a big shot now.

    He laughed. Far from it, sis. I'm just overseeing the city departments and administrative tasks.

    I dramatically widened my eyes and wiggled my fingers. "Oh, so fancy!"

    He shook his head and then went for his coffee, taking a quick sip. Wow, that's a fine cup right there.

    You know it.

    Your place doing okay?

    It's doing as well as it can. The remodeling and updates have put me behind on my monthly payments, so I'm struggling a little bit.

    Sounds you're struggling more than just a little bit, Mallory.

    I waved away his comment. It's fine. I just have to boost my business in other ways, you know? I can update our website and get a marketing package that should help increase foot traffic.

    Max turned slightly to glance at the shop. You got a few people in here.

    Yeah, we have regulars. They're kind of the blood that keeps this body running.

    Well, you can't rely on regulars forever.

    I know, Max. I'm just... I folded my hands together, playing with my thumbs. I hadn't even touched my coffee. It was unlike me to just let a piping hot cup sit without being sipped. I shrugged. I'm doing my best here and my employees are amazing. I couldn't have asked for a better job.

    But if your ship is sinking, you need to know when to jump overboard.

    Max, it's going to be fine.

    He let out a sigh as he reached for his mug again. Just let me know if you need any help.

    Tell the bank to let me go a little longer with late payments?

    "Well, I can't help like that."

    I laughed. It was worth a shot, right?

    Sure was. Listen—I have to jet, but I'll see you tomorrow around noon.

    Take the menu with you. We have a million of them. I would recommend the BBQ special, but any of them are great. Just let me know and I'll whip it up for you.

    Thanks, Mallory. I'll see you tomorrow.

    I stood up and gave him a huge hug, inhaling his rich cologne. Call me if you need me.

    Always.

    He waved as he walked to the door, leaving me sitting by myself in the corner.

    Gordon leaned over the counter. You good, boss?

    Yeah, I'm fine. I just got really tired.

    You can take five. Everything has calmed down for a minute.

    I smiled playfully at him. How kind of you to give me a break, buddy.

    He laughed. I'm just saying—sometimes you need a reminder to sit down. You work all the time.

    I do, don't I? I traced the edge of my mug with my finger, watching the dark liquid vibrate slightly. I lifted it and took a long sip, savoring the taste. Did you get the mail today, Gordon?

    Looking at mail counts as working, boss.

    I rolled my eyes. But still—did you get the mail?

    Not yet. I can grab it now. Need anything else?

    Oh, just a few thousand dollars.

    He chuckled as he jogged by, reaching out the front door into our mail slot. When he returned, he set the mail down on the table and sat in front of me, untying his apron.

    So, what did the brother want? he asked casually.

    Vanessa joined us, leaning against the counter while watching the rest of the shop.

    I plucked one of the bills from the pile hesitantly, hoping it wouldn't be as bad as last time. And, of course, I would be wrong. I was always wrong about its severity. As I peeled the envelope open, I cocked my head to one side. He was saying he was bringing an old friend tomorrow.

    Oh, yeah? Which old friend? Vanessa inquired curiously. Is it a cute friend?

    Gordon shot her a quizzical look. What? I'm not cute enough to be around you?

    You're plenty cute, but faces can get old.

    He laughed. My face would never get old to you, girl.

    She giggled and folded her arms over her chest, her cheeks retaining a red glow. Whatever, dude. You're a riot.

    He wiped invisible dirt from his shoulder. I do my best.

    "You both are a riot, I teased. And I'm about to lose my arms if these bills keep piling up."

    I still wouldn't mind taking a pay cut, Vanessa offered.

    No, I could never do that to you. You're my best friend!

    She took the bill from my hands and held it up, whistling when she saw the amount due.

    I covered my face. "I know. I've really gotten behind with the bank. I was so sure this place was going to be successful, you know? It's the perfect location. It was a run-down building, but I saw so much potential sitting inside these walls."

    Well, potential isn't going to pay these bills, Mallory.

    I know, Vanessa. You're right. I just don't want to see it go down the drain.

    How about we do another special? That lunch thing we did a couple of weeks ago seemed to go pretty well.

    She held the paper to me and I accepted it, albeit tentatively. I didn't know how I was going to scrounge up the amount due, but I was going to do my best. I scratched my head as I looked over the numbers again. A special would do us some good. We could even print up some coupons. As long as we're reeling in the numbers, they can't shut us down.

    I could always go down there and give them a stern talking to, Gordon suggested while holding up his fists. They couldn't resist the knuckle sandwich special even if they tried!

    Vanessa and I burst into laughter. I shook my head as I resisted the urge to cry. As much as I was happy to have two people who could make me laugh, I wanted to crawl into a hole. It was hard holding up my business when it felt like the bank just wanted to foreclose on me. My laughter faded and I set the bill aside, determined to not look at it until I felt better.

    I cupped my coffee mug. Oh, gross. It's cold.

    Here, I'll nuke it.

    Vanessa took my mug before I could protest. I smiled after her, shaking my head at how blessed I was while the ground beneath my feet felt shaky.

    So, should I give 'em a good talk? Gordon asked. Because I'll do it.

    No, Gordon. I need you to stay in my employ and be the ball of sunshine you are here.

    Aw, that means so much, boss.

    He flashed me his million-dollar smile before retreating to the counter. I felt a fresh breeze and looked up to find a couple of people wandering inside. I started to get up but remembered that my friends had told me to stay seated. Still, I wanted to be professional. I stood and greeted our customers, then returned to my seat, catching Gordon's warning stare that was more playful than it was serious.

    I smiled warmly, genuinely, shuffling through the rest of the mail on the table. When Vanessa returned, she set my freshly nuked mug on the table and relaxed in the seat across from me with a grin. I'm being serious, Mallory.

    And I'm being serious when I say that you are worth every penny.

    Do you have any other options?

    I nodded my head side to side, humming thoughtfully. Well, there is one option.

    Alright, dish.

    It would involve me talking to my ex-fiance.

    She wrinkled her nose. Oh, nope. Throw that dish away.

    He's an investor. Maybe if we reconcile our relationship, then I could—

    Vanessa held up a hand. I'm going to stop you right there. No amount of reconciling could make that boy say sorry to you.

    Oh, it's really not so bad. I mean, we can be adults about this. It's business and it's forgiveness. I'm sure once he sees that I'm serious that he'll buy-in.

    That just sounds like a too much of a mess to be dealing with, M.

    I know. It's a last-stretch of an option, but it's an option.

    She took my hands into hers, squeezing them gently. Promise me you'll exhaust all your other options first before contacting that sleazeball, okay?

    Okay.

    Promise?

    I swear on my mother's grave.

    She fanned herself dramatically. Okay, that's pretty serious.

    I love you, girl. What would I do without you?

    Obviously, you would die.

    I giggled and picked up my mug, feeling comforted by its warmth. I relaxed

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