Beholden to You

By Molly Sloan

I wasn't expecting someone like him.

Blue-gray eyes and his gentle smile caught me off guard.

He didn't look like he had billions of dollars to invest.

And yet he did.

I'm all business so I decided to keep my feelings buried.

I refuse to be beholden to anyone.

Until he kissed me, and everything changed.

Between my pride and desire, my emotions are at war.

I can take the leap toward love.

But what if he doesn't catch me - ease my fears.

Can I trust him?

More importantly, can I trust myself?

This standalone HEA novella is 0.5 in the Billionaire's Second Chance series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Red Hawk Press, LLC
• Release date: Feb 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393637271

Molly Sloan

Molly Sloan is a second-generation Irish American who traded her early modeling career for a master’s degree in Communications and Public Relations. After 10 years of developing business strategy, branding, reputation management, and crisis communication for some of the world’s largest companies, she is finally pursuing her dream of being a writer. “I love the psychological motivation behind the characters and exploring the emotional and intimate sides of relationships. My books are an escape, I hope you’ll think so too. Every book is a standalone story with a HEA ending.” Molly lives in Oregon with her hot husband of 20 years, and her black kitty, Boo. --Other books by Molly Sloan--        Beloved by You        Beguiled by You        Betrothed to You        Billionaire's Second Chance Box Set        Hot as Sin        Go Deeper        Balls in the Air

Book preview

Molly Sloan

Beholden To You

First published by Red Hawk Press 2018

Copyright © 2018 by Molly Sloan

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Molly Sloan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

First edition

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

Find out more at reedsy.com

To RSL - You are my precious gift.

Contents

Acquaintances

Skepticism

Just Friends

The Vault

Self Exile

Olive Branch

Leap of Faith

Trying Times

Final Straw

Clarity

About the Author

Also by Molly Sloan

Acquaintances

The sound of the alarm didn’t startle me as it normally would. I had already been awake for hours, laying motionless as I stared at the ceiling. My mind was racing. Plans for the expansion were at the forefront, per usual. But this time, the thoughts were accompanied by the meeting I would have to take. A meeting I had been dreading for weeks.

It took me several seconds to realize the alarm was still going, so I reached over to shut it off. As soon as I glanced at the screen of my phone, I winced. My inbox was already filled with emails I’d have to somehow find time for during the day.

My tired eyes strained to read the screen, but when that proved too difficult I put the phone down and I eventually forced myself to sit up. The feeble sunlight filtered in through the open windows as a soft breeze ruffled the curtains. Despite my anxiety, I smiled, enjoying the stillness the early morning always brought.

Yes I had to face the world, yes I had to be the CEO, and yes I had to decide the fate of my family’s company, but not in that moment. At that moment, I was able to just be myself, alone with my thoughts.

My phone buzzed and I sighed, turning on the screen. It was a text from my brother.

Ready for today? it said.

Of course, I typed back even as I stifled a yawn. You sure this guy is legitimate?

That hurts, sis. Don’t you trust me?

You know I do.

I slipped out of bed, allowing myself a stretch. My body protested after laying in the same position for so long, but I powered through for as long as I could stand, before lowering my arms and relaxing. Needing the warmth of my stand-up shower, I shimmied out of my worn nightgown, letting it pool at my feet. My phone buzzed again before I had a chance to even take a step toward the bathroom.

Liar, was all my brother said.

Face scrunched in annoyance, I tossed my phone back onto the bed and made for my master bathroom. Andrew knew me too well. Though we were nearly four years apart, we had always been close and he could read me like a book. Just like I could read him.

The bathroom was warmer than the bedroom, but not by much. I hurried to turn on the shower, making it as hot as I liked before taking a step back. As I turned around, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror over the sink and flinched at how exhausted I looked.

My long coffee-brown hair hung loosely just past my shoulders, the thick waves frizzy and tangled. Dark freckles stood out against pale, angular cheekbones and my normally full lips appeared pale and dry. Tired, chestnut-brown eyes peered back at me. Once again I wrinkled my nose, this time frustrated with myself. It would take more than a hot shower to shrink the bags under my eyes.

The bathroom began to fill with steam, and I tore myself away from my reflection. I slipped into the shower and stepped under the water. Hot water covered my aching body and I shut my eyes, letting it wash over me.

It had been three years since my father had retired, leaving the family business to travel with my mother. To our extended family, it was no surprise when he had made me CEO. To outsiders in the community and those stuck in the past, the idea that Stanley Atherton would hand over his prolific jewelry store to his daughter rather than his son was hard for them to understand. Some even still refused to recognize my authority.

That won’t last long, I thought to myself as I shampooed my hair. Not when I finalize the expansion.

It was a good twenty minutes before I dragged myself out of the warm shower. By the time I dressed in my favorite power suit and managed to blow dry my hair, I began to feel more like myself.

When I entered the kitchen, the smell of coffee drew me to the counter like a magnet. Roberta, my family’s housekeeper, was busy getting breakfast together. No matter how many times I told her I was capable of cooking my own food, it never made a difference. I always found her at the stove in the mornings.

Bertie, I can cook for myself, I reminded her. Normally, I had no problem telling employees what to do, but Bertie had always been more like family.

If you call what you throw together food, Bertie quipped, her thick New Jersey accent still raspy from sleep. Your father hires me to take care of yous and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. Have since yous were in diapers.

I know, I know, I smiled affectionately as I poured myself a large mug of steaming coffee. And I appreciate you.

She smiled and leaned toward me expectantly. I placed a quick kiss on her plump cheek as I passed her by, making my way toward the kitchen island. Orange juice had already been poured into a large glass and a place had been set for me. I sat on the bar stool and let my coffee mug warm my cold hands.

Big meeting today, Bertie commented. I watched her slide butter into the frying pan, swirling it around so it coated the bottom. You didn’t sleep.

How could you tell? I asked, bringing the mug to my lips.

Bertie gave me a pointed look before returning to her cooking. I always know, she said. Also I heard your alarm go off a couple times.

I took a careful sip and sighed as the wonderful liquid slid down my throat. It took all my willpower not to chug it down in one go. There’s a lot on my mind, I told her. But I’m ready for this meeting. I’ve been preparing for the last month.

Is Mr. Andrew gonna be there? Should I make up his room for tonight?

I put the mug down and reached in my back pocket to pull out my cell. No, he’s still in London, I said. But he should be back by the end of the month.

We fell into comfortable silence as she finished making breakfast and I answered a few text messages. I only managed to answer two before a plate of food was put down in front of me and the phone was yanked out of my hand.

Eat, Bertie ordered.

Aren’t you going to have anything? I asked, picking up my fork.

I don’t have to be up right now, Bertie scoffed, putting my phone down a good foot away from me.