Hot Billionaire Pictured: So Hot Billionaires, #20

By Melody Love

Dustin is a high profile billionaire who has just donated millions of dollars to a children's non-profit. His company finds Bailey's photography business to shoot photos of the event. Soon he finds himself falling for the outgoing, energetic, always smiling, beautiful photographer. 

 

Bailey's photography business is booming, with high-profile clients contacting her daily. Behind her picture perfect smile, is a life that is falling apart. Her divorce has recently been finalized after she finally left her cheating husband. What makes it worse, his affair was with her best friend. Now she's working to rebuild a life that she doesn't even know how to live. She promised herself no more relationships, but Dustin is attractive, kind, and very charismatic. But she's about to unravel the truth about Dustin's family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: DM
• Release date: May 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393810575

Book preview

Chapter Two – Bailey

Sabrina Cooney strutted back and forth in front of the green screen backdrop. She wore a long white dress with a slit high up on one side, exposing an expanse of creamy white thigh with every step. Fans blew at her from one side, twirling her long ash-blonde hair and causing the dress to billow out around her body. The fabric, dragged by the wind, molded to the shape of her supple body.

I bent over behind my camera, taking shot after shot of the model as she worked her stuff. She pushed her hair back from her face, dragging her fingers through it while looking up. She dropped her arms, grabbed the folds of her billowing skirt and turned once, turned back the other way. She leaned back, thrusting her breasts out, nipples standing out against the pale fabric, one hand reaching beseechingly to an unknown object or force.

Unknown until I photoshopped it in, at least.

Sabrina dropped her hand, slid her fingers down both thighs, and lifted up the flap of the skirt to expose her thigh again. One leg extended, bent, balanced on the tiptoes, making her sleek muscles stand out under her skin.

It was a nice pose.

They were all nice poses.

There was a reason she had gained fame through modeling, after all. She had to be halfway decent at her job.

I hoped I would prove to be halfway decent at mine and do her justice.

Sabrina slid her hands back up her body and folded them, tilted her head down and closed her eyes so her long, glistening eyelashes brushed her cheek. I took burst shots, capturing frame after frame of the movement of her hair. Later on, I would go through them all to find the absolute best one.

I checked the time in the lower left of the screen. You can take a break if you want, I called.

Sabrina dropped out of the pose with silky ease and smiled at me. I was just getting started.

I don’t want you to wear yourself out, I explained. We’ve got a long way to go, and I’d be doing everyone a disservice if I allow the later shots to be less than perfect, if I can prevent that. Would you like some water?

That would be lovely.

I’ll be right back. I left my camera and headed through the door at the back of the studio. I took a quick left to the kitchenette and grabbed a couple bottles of water from the mini fridge. Coming back, I handed one of the cold bottles to Sabrina.

Thank you. She took it with a smile and twisted the cap off. She drank like an athlete would, letting a stream of water pour into her mouth. Touching her lips to the rim would ruin her makeup. The work of five minutes would fix any smudging, but her thoughtfulness touched me. I’d spent a long time working on her, highlighting what she had—and she had a lot. Photoshop would fix any oversights, but I preferred not to use that tool on the actual people in my images. It seemed like a disservice.

No problem. I motioned over to a couple chairs next to my photography equipment. You can sit down if you want. I think ten or fifteen minutes and then we’ll do some more. And then if you feel ready, you can change and we’ll start the next set.

That sounds lovely to me. Sabrina twisted the cap back onto her drink. Unlike a lot of models, who were often selected for a particular standout characteristic, teeth, hair, hands, face, body, she had it all. She had done a bit of everything as far as I could tell.

The thing about her was that she kept herself natural. No fake tanning, no surgery, no dyeing or bleaching of her hair, and no painting her nails. She could be whatever the client liked.

Sabrina looked at me and tilted her head. See something interesting?

I realized I had been staring at her and blushed. No, no. Well, I mean, yes, but not like that. I giggled at myself. What I mean is I was just thinking about how amazing it is to be able to work with a model such as yourself. You’re in such high demand, and there are so many other photographers your agent could have chosen.

Sabrina laughed softly and touched my arm. You’re so sweet. The truth is I asked for you.

I blinked in surprise. You did? Why? You’re the most famous model in the state. You could have had anyone.

Well, sure, but do you know how many photographers are men?

Most of them, I replied.

Right, you would know. Sabrina wandered away from the set and towards one of the chairs, her dress trailing behind her. She sat down and folded her hands in her lap, looking up at me. Not that I really care who looks at me. I make a living out of that. Nor do I care in what way someone looks at me. But I’d had my eye on you and your work for some time.

A glow of pride went through me that someone like her had recognized me.

In every single picture you’ve ever taken, your models look so natural. It was clear to me that you let them do what’s comfortable. Sabrina spread her hands. I wanted to experience it for myself. And, as it turns out, I was right. You clearly have faith in your models. You showed me where to go and what you’d be doing, and then you told me to get started. No yelled orders, no demands for this or that. It’s just me and what I want, and I think that’s amazing.

I blushed even more than before, my cheeks glowing pink by that point. I don’t know any other way to do it. Why would I presume I know better than you? You don’t need my guidance.

And that’s what makes you unique and deserving of my admiration.

Sabrina, you’re going to make me burst into flames.

Her eyes twinkled. Maybe you should be the one standing in front of those fans.

I laughed. Maybe I should. They aren’t too cold for you?

Oh, it feels great! I’m dreading having to go outside when this is over. The humidity is awful.

I feel like we’re in for a storm, what with how cloudy it’s been. I shook my head. Look at me, talking about the weather like the most boring person in the world.

Sabrina stood and looked at me seriously. I’d rather be in here discussing the weather with you than standing in front of some jerk with a bad moustache who can’t keep his hands off his glass of whiskey long enough to take a picture.

That is a very specific comparison.

It was a very specific situation. She reached to me and gave me a one-armed hug. I’m glad you’re in this industry. I think I’ll come back to you many more times from now on.

Well, I’m not going to turn down business, I teased.

Sabrina laughed. There you go! I feel ready to get back to it, if you don’t mind?

Whatever you feel like. I pointed to a beach chair, folded up in the corner. Your agent said he wanted some pictures of you posing with the chair. You don’t necessarily have to sit on it, but you could lean over the back of it. Whatever you feel like.

Sabrina went over to get the chair.

I hurried to stop her, holding out my arm. I’ll do it, don’t worry.

I can pick up a chair.

I’m sure you can, I said quickly, but you have to let me at least feel like I’m doing some work around here.

She laughed and let me get the chair.

I set it up for her before returning to my camera. She did a few stretches, her lean body admirable through the filmy white dress. I couldn’t help but take an image of her, a candid shot that might be useful later on. Sabrina lowered to her knees, sliding her legs off to the side. She rested her arm on the chair, then her head on her arm, a convincing expression of longing on her face.

The shoot went on for another few hours as she posed, changed clothes, and posed again. I knew all the details of what my pictures would be used for. Her agent sent me the information packet when I took the job. She would appear in ads for sunscreen, tanning oil, and other beachy items, all of them made by the same company. They would photoshop her into the appropriate backgrounds.

A real session out on an actual beach would be better, but Douglas was two hours away from the coast, and that was on a good day. And nature had a way of misbehaving. Some photographers refused to work outside, in the same way some filmmakers refused to work with kids and animals. This was the appropriate compromise.

When the shoot finally ended, Sabrina went off to my bathroom to change into her regular clothes. I busied myself with putting up the props we had used and tidying the lights and camera supplies, making them easier to put away later.

Sabrina entered the room again, carrying bags of the clothes she’d worn. She smiled at me and flipped her hair over her shoulder. That was such fun! I can’t wait to see the pictures.

Choosing the best ones is always the hardest part. I tilted my head in the direction of the door. I’ll get them selected and send them over to you and your agent for review in about a week.

Sabrina took the hint and let herself be led over to the door, though she meandered, in no mood to be hurried. A week? That’s not a very long time at all.

I smiled, my hand on the door knob. I love to work, and I work often.

Don’t forget to take time for yourself. Sabrina smiled. Maybe we can get a coffee some time. Oh, I know! We could meet up when you have the pictures ready, and you could show them to me. I bet it would be nice to have a real-life reaction, wouldn’t it?

It would, I agreed. Need help getting anything to your car?

She waved off my offer of help. You’re so sweet, but I’m fine. I’ll see you soon!

Be safe, I told her. I watched her until she had gotten into her car before I closed the door to the studio.

I locked it.

I slumped backwards against the door and dragged my hands through my hair. My chest ached a little. I really loved what I did. I couldn’t risk getting close to clients because I had to work with them. If I made an exception for Sabrina, I’d have to make an exception for others, and that was a slippery slope. Someone could ruin my reputation if I let the wrong person in.

It did make me feel a little lonely. Sabrina wasn’t the first model I worked with who asked to hang out later, and she wouldn’t be the last. I hadn’t accepted such an offer yet.

My phone buzzed faintly from where it lay face down on my desk. I’d forgotten to turn it off. Luckily no one had tried to reach me while Sabrina was doing her thing or else it might have interrupted her flow.

I pushed away from the door to see who it was.

My friend, Kelsey, was the sender, asking me to call her.

I pushed the call button and brought the phone to my ear. What’s up? I asked.

Hey! Kelsey said brightly. Are you done with your shoot? How was it?

Honestly, it was great. What about you?

Kelsey was a freelance journalist, always scurrying around to get tidbits of news and gossip.

I’d be pretty accepting of a reason to be done for the day.

I giggled. In that case, what do you say we get together? I can close up here. Only take a few minutes.

I’d like to go home and get changed. What do you say we meet at Three Blind Mice in half an hour, forty-five minutes?

Three Blind Mice was a nearby coffee shop. I could walk there from the studio and had on many occasions. I’ll be there.

Great. See you then!

Kelsey hung up. I tucked my phone down into my pocket and took a survey of the studio. If I hurried, I could have all the equipment put away and still have spare time to start going through the pictures from today’s shoot.

Workaholic? Maybe.

At least I wouldn’t be spending the evening by my lonesome.

Chapter Three – Dustin

Friday afternoon. Most people would be watching the clock, counting down the minutes until the end of their shift and the start of the weekend. I knew Roger would be, if he was still in the building.

I wasn’t.

I was in my office with Sherry again, the same as yesterday. Tonia had picked out a venue for the ball, and now the rest of the planning team had come together to make up for lost time. Already, they’d handed over a list of available bands and caterers. Sherry had that list in her old hands.

What are you thinking of for the menu?

I rubbed my hand through my hair and shook off a stray dark blonde strand. "I know what you are thinking."

Sherry smiled. Do tell.

We need to consider the needs of all our guests. I think we should consider some vegetarian and vegan options.

You’re learning, she laughed.

It’s about time, I chuckled. It said on the list that Broil and Trouble specializes in vegetarian cuisine. But I don’t think that’s quite what we want.

A little further down is Sun-Dried Catering, Sherry said, handing the list over to me. They provide vegetarian options. I’m sure they’d be more than capable of accommodating us. I took a look at the typical menus of each service before I came to you. Sun-Dried seems to have a very wide variety of ball-shaped finger foods. Meatballs of all kinds, fried ravioli. We could also get a ton of chips, dips, and vegetable and fruit platters.

All this talk is making me hungry.

I take that as approval.

Yes, let’s go with them. I hope I actually get a chance to eat at one of my own balls someday. I was always so busy with guests and the behind-the-scenes work that I was lucky if I so much as saw food.

Sherry tuned out my complaints and made some notes on the list.

I’m thinking of something, I said. In the past, we’ve always let reporters in and used the pictures they take. I wonder if this year we could hire our own photographer. Someone who won’t have an ulterior motive.

That’s an excellent idea, Sherry said, still writing at the same sedate pace. How she could write and talk, I had no idea. I’ll be sure to find someone who doesn’t have any ties with a particular network.

I can always trust you. I looked at her admiringly.

She glanced up at me and her pale, wrinkly cheeks turned vaguely pink. Of course you can. Though it’s not as if you have much of a choice.

I laughed. Find someone who knows what they’re doing, but isn’t so stuck in their ways that they won’t do what I want.

Naturally.

But also someone who isn’t afraid to tell me when my ideas are dumb.

Sherry looked at me again. I’m pretty sure I already occupy that position.

I laughed.

Sherry finished writing and set the list down in her lap. Okay, so now it’s down to the band. What are we leaning towards?

I’d prefer a group that doesn’t sing.

She said, You might as well hire a high school marching band.

That’s a good idea for next year, I mused. I could donate to schools and have the kids come to perform.

She snapped her fingers. Let’s stay focused on the present for now, what do you say?

I assume you’ve looked at the bands just the same as you took a peek at the catering services. Is there anyone who will play instrumentals? But not boring instrumentals. I want a happy sound.

Well, the band we used last year, Dolphin Squad, is available.

I did notice them. Think we should go with them?

They did a satisfactory job, she remarked.

Then we’ll go with them.

Very well. Sherry put a checkmark next to Dolphin Squad’s name. That should do it for now. I’ll give this to the team, and they’ll get it arranged.

Thank you, Sherry. And tell them I said thanks, as well. I got up to walk her to the exit.

I’ll be sure to. Sherry smiled and headed out.

I headed back to my desk to look over some paperwork, taking frequent breaks to refill my coffee mug. Just before dinnertime, I packed up my things into my briefcase and headed out. The building was mostly empty by that point except for guards and a few workers, staying late to accomplish all they needed to before the weekend.

My footsteps echoed softly on the floor as I walked across the empty foyer. I stepped out into the evening light, a deep gold luminescence that rendered everything it touched not quite real. I glanced at my watch while crossing in front of the office and around to the back. I’d have just enough time to make it to the one appointment I’d been looking forward to all day.

I tossed my briefcase into the backseat of my Jaguar. I pulled out of the parking space and joined the other vehicles on the road. Traffic was worse than I had accounted for since everyone and their mother was on their way home from work. Luckily, it still wasn’t too bad and I arrived at my destination just in time. I pulled into the first parking spot I saw and climbed out.

Dustin!

I turned. Dad!

An older man with gray hair waved to me from a bench in front of the restaurant. I headed over to him and grabbed him in a hug as he started to stand. I pulled back and smiled at him. Where’s Mom?

She’s waiting inside. She didn’t want to miss out on the chance to get a table if the dinner crowd came rushing in before you showed up. Dad looked me up and down with a small frown, which transformed quickly into a smile. You look good. Maybe too good for dinner at a place like this.

I glanced down at myself and frowned. I still wore my suit from work. You’re probably right. I should go take my jacket off, at least.

Nah, leave it on. Your mother will get a kick out of it.

I chuckled. I’m sure she will. Okay. Lead the way.

Dad led me into the restaurant, a French-style bistro that was both minimalist and charming. The menu was written on a large blackboard at one end of the building. An employee approached the board, erased one of the options, and filled in the empty space with another item.

Mom stood up as we approached and rushed to me, throwing her arms around my shoulders. Oh, you’re so charming! she cried. She leaned back, still holding onto my shoulders. My wonderful businessman.

Dad sat down in Mom’s vacated seat and folded his arms over his chest. You never talked to me like that when I worked an office job.

You weren’t the CEO, Mom said. She rubbed my arms and then pulled me in for another tight hug. Oh, Dustin! I miss you so much when you’re not around.

I miss you too, Mom, I told her. I rested my head on her shoulder and breathed in the sweet vanilla flower scent of her perfume. I always cherish our time together. I only wish I had more of it to give.

Nonsense, Mom scolded me. She patted at a few stray strands of hair on my head. You give us more time than you should, already. I’m just glad that we get to see you at all.

Dad cleared his throat. Betty, will you quit petting the poor boy and let him sit? He’s probably been on his feet hard at work all day.

Mom drew back and motioned for me to sit. She seemed to notice that Dad was in her spot for the first time and shooed him into the next chair.

I smiled at their antics and lowered myself to a seat. A CEO really doesn’t spend all that much time away from his desk.

But it’s at least different enough, Mom said. The only important decision you need to make right now is what you want to eat.

That is true. I looked over at the menu board. The employee had finished their task and disappeared, though soft conversation coming from the area of the kitchen signaled they were around somewhere. I quickly made up my mind on what I wanted. Steak and fries. I had been here before, and the steak never disappointed. And the fries were made from potatoes soaked in vinegar.

My stomach growled a little in anticipation.

Dad looked at me fondly. I heard that. It’s nice to know some things never change.

I laughed. I like food, what can I say?

Mom and Dad looked at each other and a secretive sort of message seemed to pass between them, the kind of message indecipherable to an outside observer. My heart swelled at the sight of them. I reached across the table and grabbed their hands. I love you two.

Tears of happiness brimmed in Mom’s eyes. We love you, Dustin. Never forget that.

How could I ever? I shook my head and squeezed her hand. You’ve both done so much for me through my whole life.

At least some of what we did must have been good, because, well, look at you now. Dad dodged Mom’s sharp elbow.

I smiled at their antics. Everything you did was good. More than good. I’d say great, even. I’d never be the man I am today without the two of you.

Mom sniffled and reached for a napkin.

Before she could fully break into tears, a server approached. Mom dapped at her nose with the napkin, sneakily taking care of her wet eyes at the same time.

We all ordered our entrees, steak and fries for myself, ratatouille tart for Mom, and cast-iron roast chicken for Dad. The server brought us our drinks and then left us with the promise our entrees would be out soon. We filled the time before then with talk. Mom and Dad told me all about a recent weekend they spent at the beach, and I told them all I could about the upcoming ball.

Then the food came, and we talked about little except for the contents of the meal. We passed around morsels between us to make sure we all tried everything. I didn’t think much of Mom’s ratatouille, and she hated the vinegary, tangy fries, but we all couldn’t get enough of Dad’s chicken. Particularly the crispy, succulent skin.

All too soon, the meal was over. We ordered slices of pistachio cake with honey and cream to stretch our time further, but even that couldn’t last forever. Eventually, we had to pay and give up our table.

I walked with my parents to the sedan I’d bought for them on their honeymoon last year. Mom turned to me and hugged me tight, placing one hand on the back of my head as if she couldn’t bear to let go of me again. I hugged her back just as tight, rubbing her back. I love you, Mom, I said.

She drew back and touched my cheek. We love you, Dustin.

Dad leaned in through the open