Hot Billionaire Jerk: So Hot Billionaires, #25

By Melody Love

Miles Williams is a successful business owner who recently inherited his father's candy company. His father Doug Williams is well known in the communities where his stores reside. 

 

Lila Stone is a successful woman herself, running a successful hair salon. It's no secret that hair salons are where everyone gossips and her's is no exception. A client tells her that the candy company is being passed down by Doug to his son and that his son plans on cutting the majority of the positions and replacing them with computers and machines. Lila is devastated because of her father's position at the store as a manager and his loyalty to the business.

 

She wants to confront him but the only problem is, he hasn't shown his face, or has he? Miles arrived in their small town of Liberty and tells people his name is Miles Baxter. He had heard rumors about the town opposing him and doesn't want anyone to know who he is yet. But when he meets Lila, he starts falling for her instantly. She falls for him too until she discovers who he truly is. Not only is he using a fake name, he's going to leave multiple people without jobs, including her father.

 

Will Miles have a change of heart and keep the positions or will money and success take priority?

• Language: English
• Publisher: DM
• Release date: May 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393034148

Book preview

Chapter 2 – Lila

You haven’t eaten hardly any of your lunch, Mom said, her tone gently scolding. After all the work I put in to making it for you.

I studied the grilled cheese on my plate. I’d taken a single bite and munched on a few potato chips. Now the sandwich sat cooling, the butter used to toast the bread congealing and the slices of melted cheese hardening into their previous state of existence. Sorry, Mom. It’s great, I swear.

Oh, Lila, don’t mind her. Dad waved his own half-eaten sandwich in the air, dismissing Mom’s complaint. She’s only grouchy because she’s concerned about you. As for the work she put into the food, it’s not as if she made the cheese or baked the bread.

Mom sat down with her own freshly-prepared grilled cheese, plus a handful of lightly-salted popcorn in place of chips. Fragrant, rich steam rose from her plate and perfumed the air. The scent took me back to my younger years, when I would stay home sick from school and she would serve me grilled cheese cut into strips with a side of tomato soup.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t feeling ill in the traditional sense. I was worried out of my mind.

Your father’s right, Mom said, touching my arm. She left behind a few grains of salt. I’m only concerned. You only ever pick at your food like this when something’s wrong.

I loved my parents. How relieving it was to be understood! I pushed my plate away and turned to Dad. They were supposed to announce the new CEO for Sugar & Sweets. I missed it because I was working and now I can’t find any news of it. Do you know who it is?

Dad popped the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth and chewed, then washed it down with a sip of cola. I’m not surprised you can’t find anything about it. Surprised you haven’t seen that they cancelled the press release shortly before they would have gone live on Friday.

Really? Why?

Heck if I know. He shrugged and reached over to help himself to some of my food. They didn’t say. Maybe technically difficulties? I’m not sure.

When are they going to do it, then?

I have no earthly idea. Dad gave another shrug. He was being a lot calmer about this than I would have thought. Calmer than I was, and I wasn’t the one whose job might be on the line. Companies like that can have their own perception of time. It could be a month from now. There’s always so many different things going on and this may well end up on the backburner for a bit.

That’s not fair!

It’ll be okay, Mom said. And there’s no use fretting over what hasn’t come to pass. Come on, Lila, please. We see so little of you anymore. Let’s just have lunch and talk about something else.

Mom was worried, I saw, and not just about my behavior. She was afraid for Dad, afraid for Liberty as a whole.

I decided to listen. I pulled my plate back from Dad and picked up the rest of my cold cheese sandwich. So how has business been lately, Mom?

Retirement hadn’t sat well with my mother. She performed manicures and did the nails of her friends, her friends’ friends, and others who heard of her cheap prices and skill. It was more of a hobby than a real business, but she still made enough money to have to pay taxes.

Mom gladly switched to sharing some town gossip, passed to her by one of her friends who came in to have her nails done. Some teen at the high school had gotten pregnant. She seemed likely to give the baby up for adoption. And someone else’s son had been busted for smoking pot.

Small town stuff.

I listened and engaged, all the while thinking about the cancelled press release.

I had a chance to talk about it again later that night, and thank goodness for the opportunity because my brain felt on the verge of exploding from the mounting pressure.

I owned and managed Marble Salon, my own hair salon enterprise. While I followed a strict schedule for my own appointments to keep from overworking myself, I always had time to sneak in my best friend after hours. She needed her hair recolored and this turned out to be the only time it could be done.

I met her as she came to the door and unlocked it. She swept in and hugged me so tight I couldn’t breathe, which was exactly what I needed. I hugged her back. So good to see you, Heather.

"Good to see you, she said warmly. She tilted her head and ran her fingers through her hair. I’m turning into a skunk."

Well, I can’t do anything about your smell. I shut and relocked the door behind her to dissuade any walk-ins. But the hair, I can fix.

She grumbled at me and went and sat in a seat in front of the sink. I grabbed a barber cape, which was really more of a bib, and draped it over her and cinched it loose at the back of her neck. Heather had the sort of svelte, yet feminine body that drove men crazy. She’d been turning heads ever since she hit puberty. And then she had hit her goth phase and never quite grew out of it. To this day, she wore heavy, dark makeup and continued to dye her blonde hair the blackest shade of black available—which was why she resembled a skunk when her roots grew out. And she was badly in need of it today, I noted, as our schedules had been misaligning for a few weeks.

I leaned her back in the chair and turned the water on to get it warming up.

Heather closed her eyes to avoid getting splashed while I washed her hair, the strands delicate, almost brittle-feeling against my fingers from how often she got it dyed. Strenuous care and attention prevented any real damage, luckily.

You’ve heard about the delay with the CEO swap? Heather asked.

I bit my lip, rinsing lather from her hair. Yes.

You feel tense.

So do you. I felt knots from stress at the back of her neck.

With all these rumors, I don’t know what to think or believe and it scares me. Heather shuddered despite the warmth of the water I used. Is it going to be Doug William’s son taking over? One of his business partners? Am I going to lose my job?

Heather worked as a confectioner in the very popular Sugar & Sweets store in town, which meant she made the candy and other goods sold there. The shop also had a café and a bakery. Not all the outlets did. Our local store was one of the larger ones and employed a very large number of people in town, and also helped out other business because of the large quantities of supplies purchased and delivered every week.

I’m scared for my dad, I admitted. I finished with washing her hair and reached to help her sit up. I guided her over to another chair and then went to a prep station to mix her usual dye color.

A convenient excuse to step away and try to calm myself.

Dad was a regional manager for the company, responsible for the stores in all the surrounding counties. He had been working in this same career almost his entire adult life, rising steadily through the ranks.

I think he’ll be fine, Heather offered.

I came back to her with the bowl full of dye. I hope so.

I wasn’t very convinced. Doug Williams had been in charge of the company for so long. The coming change would be the start of a new era and that could potentially result in a chain reaction. Older workers forced out. New blood funneled in.

A lifetime of loyalty, swept aside like it meant nothing.

Heather stayed quiet as I went to work on her hair, painting on the dye and securing it with tinfoil. I paused and gave her shoulders a quick, reassuring rub. You’ll be fine, too. I know it. You’re so good at what you do. The candy’s never been so delicious.

She smiled a little. Thanks. I hope so. I just kind of wish they’d come out with the truth and tell us all what’s going on. I would rather know how my future will be affected, even if it’s bad.

It probably won’t be bad. We’re all shaken up, is all. We should try and stay positive. I tried my best to seem convincing.

If I lose my job, will you hire me? I can’t do hair but I can . . . I can be your assistant!

I laughed and lightly swatted her nose with a piece of foil. Tell you what. You come in here and have an actual interview with me, treat me like a real boss woman, I’ll put you at the front desk answering phones.

Heather laughed, too.

Little did she know I meant it. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Chapter 3 – Miles

I’m not in Kansas anymore. Not in California, either.

I had no idea how to feel about my new locale. I supposed what I felt was what people called culture shock, though I had always associated that with travels to another country. Then again, this area may well have been another country for all the familiarity I had with it. My plane had landed at an airport so small it was little more than a strip of a building, lacking the twists and turns and impossible lengths I was used to. The city itself didn’t really seem like a city at all, devoid of skyscrapers, and traffic was nonexistent despite my arrival at a time of day when everyone should have been getting off from work and hurrying home.

It struck me as I sat at a red light in my rental car that the gentle tide of vehicles on the road was the rush to get home.

I followed the highway out of the pitiful excuse of a city and found myself traversing across rolling plains of grass. Only the occasional stand of trees or singular house broke up the monotony of hills, hills, hills.

I drove for over an hour, only catching a glimpse of real civilization in the form of towns a few times. They were always far off in the distance, beyond the hills, visible only as a cluster of diminutive buildings.

The GPS on my borrowed vehicle led me off the highway, deeper and deeper into the hills until I had to wonder if I was maybe caught in the midst of something supernatural. Possessed cars had appeared more than a few times in novels and movies. I could be a victim myself soon, guided into the boonies by a force beyond my control. At the end of the line, my destination wouldn’t be Liberty but some run-down murder mansion. Or a lake. I’d try to step on the brakes and instead the car would pick up speed and dive inside, carrying me to a watery grave.

Foolishness.

But it was easy to be foolish when I was so, so alone in the world.

The sign welcoming me to Johnson County flew past, so small and insignificant I might have missed it if not for the tined animal standing next to it. My foot found the brakes and, unlike in my daydream, they worked. Gravel shot out from under my tires and the animal turned and bounded off, taking shelter in a pine copse.

I eased my foot off the brake, my heart pounding hard enough in my chest to shake my whole body. A deer. A huge russet-brown buck with thick fuzzy antlers, standing out in the open on the side of the road like it was no big deal. I hadn’t ever seen a real deer like that in my whole life. Antelope at the zoo didn’t count.

I passed a deer-crossing sign less than a minute later and laughed aloud at the coincidence. Perhaps the poor fellow had been lost and found himself at the wrong sign.

A particularly tall hill rose up in front of the nose of my car. There was another sign at the crest, though the road angled and put the sun right behind it so I couldn’t make out what it was. I stepped on the gas and squinted at the sight.

Liberty, it said.

I reached the top of the hill and there, laid out before me, nestled in a sort of basin formed by a collection of hilly plains, was the town. With the sky so big and blue, the grass so golden-green and the town so small and tidy, I felt as if I’d become part of a postcard photograph.

I turned off my GPS and drove a little slower, scanning the tiny town. I couldn’t make out where the candy store was. Not that it would be hard to find.

Before long, I reached the town limits, passing big ranch-style houses with expansive backyards. The spacious homes gave way to tighter neighborhoods, and then I was past those and cruising down Main Street, past a grocery store, a salon, a motel, two schools, and finally Sugar & Sweets.

Now I know where it is, I muttered. I doubt I’ll get lost finding my way back.

I turned into the parking lot of a bank, right next to the town hall, and went back in the direction of the motel. I headed inside. The cuteness of the lobby struck me right away. It in no way resembled the hotel lobbies I had experience with. To the immediate left was a lounge area no bigger than a living room, with low chairs and a single couch separated by pine coffee tables. And to the right was the reception desk, currently not being manned. Everything was done in wooden shades, oak and pine, complimented with rusty reds.

Heading up to the desk, I searched for a bell to ring. Finding none, I called out, Hello? Anyone home?

Sorry! a voice called back from somewhere deeper in the motel. Be with you in a second.

No rush.

A small, elderly woman came hurrying out from a back room despite what I had said. As before, when I first saw Liberty from afar, I had a feeling that I’d stepped into a picture. This one belonged in a children’s book. The old woman looked like the epitome of a grandmother, with a stooped back and hair done up in a white bun. Huge spectacles perched on the tip of her nose. She peered at me through the concave lenses. Hello, young man. Can I help you?

I hope so, I told her. I unconsciously leaned over a little to make the height difference less noticeable. I need to rent a room. Do you have any available?

Of course. How long are you staying for?

Let’s start with a week.

She reached up to tap on her computer keyboard. She used proper typing techniques, though her fingers seemed just a bit too stiff to do the work quickly. Start with a week, certainly. You talk with old lady Bessie here and she can refund your stay if you leave early or extend it for however long you need.

Thanks.

Certainly. Give me a minute here. This computer is almost as old as I am. She smiled very sweetly. So tell me what a California boy like you is doing out here.

I sputtered, stunned, wondering if my cover had somehow been blown.

Old lady Bessie, as she had identified herself, peeked up at me and chuckled. You have the look and the accent.

I swept my fingers through my hair, feeling self-conscious. I had dark hair and dark eyes and didn’t think I resembled a surfer bro, but I did have a tan. And I must have had the accent, though I couldn’t detect it when I heard myself speak.

Out here on business? she prompted, tapping at her computer a few more times.

Yes.

Poor thing, sent so far away to such a place so different from your own.

Yeah, you’re telling me.

Bessie shook her head and sighed. Okay, this clearly isn’t going to work. You don’t know anything about computers, do you?

No more than the average idiot.

A pity. If you could fix this stubborn thing, I’d let you stay for free for the first night. As it is, I can’t get to the sign-in sheet.

I tried to hold my temper. I was tired from the flight and the drive and I really wasn’t looking forward to having to find another place to stay. Should I go elsewhere?

Bessie looked startled. Of course not. We’ll do it the old-fashioned way. Just tell me your name and really, that’s all I need aside from payment.

I was relieved, the ease of the transaction dampening the fire of my irritation. I did have an ID  prepared with a pseudonym. Legally. But it was a load off my mind to just be able to tell her and not have to worry about a mistake.

Miles Baxter, I lied.

Very good, Mr. Baxter. Bessie picked up a pen and painstakingly wrote my name on a sheet of paper.

I paid in cash, eliminating another way my true identity could be discovered.

Bessie reached into a drawer underneath the counter and pulled out two honest-to-god keys, rather than key cards. You’re in room 3, right down this hall there. We don’t offer room service or breakfast, but that’s what you get for the price, am I right on that?

You’re right, I told her, pointing at her.

I can offer wake-up calls and of course, you can have delivery brought to your room. Otherwise, it’s the same as any other hotel. Maids come in at noon. And by maids, I mean me in a maid outfit. There’s a Do-Not-Disturb sign you can put out if you’re a late-riser.

I pushed the mental image of an old woman in a maid outfit out of my mind and took the offered keys. Speaking of delivery, what’s around here?

She rattled off a list of several restaurants, all of them clearly local because I had never heard of them before, and then handed me menus for each. Italian, Chinese, Mexican. The holy trinity.

I took the menus and thanked her. Hopefully, there would be some sit-down restaurants nearby. Cafes, diners. I didn’t relish the idea of putting on ten pounds from only eating takeout while I was here. This first night though, I just didn’t feel like going out again.

I headed down the hall she’d pointed out earlier, where the woodsy theme continued. The carpet looked rather new, though probably not a lot of people had walked on it since its installation, no matter how long ago that might have been.

I reached my door, stuck one of the keys in the lock, and let myself inside. I had luggage to get out of the car, but I wanted a peek at the place that would be my home for the next however long.

The décor was woodsy, rusting oak paneling on the walls and faux cedar flooring. The bed had checkered green sheets, matching the curtains drawn over the single window. As far as furniture went, there was a nightstand and petite dresser, and a counter that served as both bathroom sink and kitchen space. Stepping into the bathroom, I discovered I could hardly close the door once I was inside. And the shower head seemed . . . low.

Honestly, I didn’t know what I had been expecting.

I flopped on the bed. It was twin size, almost too small for a grown man, though comfortable and sweet-smelling. I folded my hands on my stomach and leaned back against the headboard and allowed myself to relax. I leaned my head back and noticed a television high up in the corner, suspended just below the low ceiling.

Hospital room vibes.

I looked over to the side and discovered a remote on top of the nightstand, next to the simple alarm clock. I picked it up and turned the TV on and flipped through the channels to see how many there were.

A lot.

At least the place had good service in that regard—not that I could really complain about anything I’d seen thus far. Old Bessie was right. I got what I paid for.

I scrolled through the channels for a bit while relaxing and came across the local news.

A catchy, dramatic sort of jingle played, a flourish of bass clef piano notes and an electronic thrum. I looked up. A well-dressed older man with gray hair sat behind a highly-polished desk in a studio that looked exactly like any other newsroom on the planet. He said, We’re back, and now it’s time to discuss an announcement made today that is no doubt on everyone’s minds.

Did the Prez make some sort of declaration while I was on my flight?

The esteemed CEO of the renowned candy company, Sugar & Sweets, went on record today to announce his retirement.

I sat upright, the remote rolling off my lap and onto the floor.

Doug Williams stated that he feels it’s time to hand off his company to his son, Miles. This is apparently the same announcement as would have been made in the press release last Friday, if it hadn’t been cancelled. The reason for the cancellation was not addressed. The newscaster tried to keep his expression neutral, though he failed to hide a flash of skepticism in his eyes. Miles Williams did not attend the press release today. While the reason for this is also unknown, it is being widely speculated as damage control. Miles is known to be an advocate for less manpower in company operations, which understandably has many communities on edge. Johnson County’s mayor, Samantha Perch, has stated she will, quote, ‘Fight against any unfairness wrought against the people under her care.’

I snorted. The mayor could argue all she wanted. She wouldn’t have any power to affect the changes I wanted to make. While many protestations beginning at the grassroots level had worked wonders to bring about a positive difference, I had no doubt everyone would come to accept what I had planned. It would be better for everyone, I just knew it.

There have been no further developments since the announcement as of yet. We will, as always keep you posted. If you’re feeling stressed out, it might be a good idea to spend some time outdoors. Here’s Archie Max with the weather forecast to let us know how possible that is. Archie?

I grabbed the remote off the floor and muted the TV, not caring in the slightest about the weather.

I felt distinctly unsatisfied with everything I’d just heard. New channels made a profit by spinning stories to create a narrative, sometimes at the exclusion of proper journalism. What I’d witnessed was exactly that. That newscaster had gone and said whatever he thought was right, excluding logic in favor of assumptions.

Damage control, my ass. Even Victoria at HR hadn’t talked about it like that. This was preventative. Nothing had happened yet and if I did my job well, nothing would.

The thing that really got me was the speculation on why I hadn’t attended the press release. I could have been ill for all those people knew. Never mind that Dad decided to have the announcement while I was out of state to help keep my identity a secret. I was here to suss out how everyone felt about the decision and I couldn’t do that if my face was plastered all over the news.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and called Dad.

He answered on the first ring. Hey, kid! You make it okay?

Safe and sound. I’m staying in this cute little motel that wants to be a cabin.

Send pictures.

Uh-huh. I probably wouldn’t. I sucked at taking phone pictures. They always came out blurry. I was getting settled in. The announcement was on the local news.

Dad laughed at me. "Did you think it wouldn’t be? It’s also in the national news and might even go international. That’s