The Billionaire's Sincerity: Wealth and Kinship, #5

By April Murdock

Tanner Lewis had wanted his amazing friendship with the girl next door to become something more. She wasn't interested in being his girlfriend, though. So they'd gone to different universities and he'd never heard from her again. He still thought about her. He hadn't met a woman who could take her place.

Stephanie Davis is newly single and vacationing with her sister instead of the man who she'd thought she would spend the rest of her life with. Now she's determined to have fun and shed the memories of Connor forever. When she runs into Tanner, she almost didn't recognize him after thirteen years. He'd lost his baby fat and he was downright handsome. Suddenly she missed their long talks and the laughter.

Is there a chance Stephanie would answer differently today if Tanner asked her out? Does he have the nerve to try?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sweet River Publishing
• Release date: Jan 27, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201979072

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Tanner

I’d said it before, and I’ll say it again. The islands of the Bahamas were a brilliant place to stay, the Paradise Bay Resort Club being its crown jewel. Not that I hadn’t stayed in some remarkably posh places before. In my late teens and early twenties, I had the sometimes dubious honor of being a fashion model, and let me tell you, those magazine editors knew how to pony up the dollars for those who graced their covers on a photo shoot. I didn’t remember those days fondly, though. Not really. Yeah, that was the first time in my life I made enough money to not struggle financially, but after three years of being on display, I felt more than ready to retire from the catwalk.

Also, being a guy who essentially paraded around shirtless for a living meant that I pretty much always served as fodder for my close circle of friends to torment. Not that I minded their impish razzings too much. Or at least not most of the time. First, because they didn’t mean it to be genuinely hurtful, and second, because I’d spent my days as a young lad being made fun of for far worse reasons.

Ha, ha, you have such a fine physique people pay you six figures plus to wear their designer clothing, didn’t have nearly as much of an upsetting impact as hearing, Hey, Lardy, try eating a salad. Or Your clothes are so worn. Can’t your mum afford to get you some new ones, Raggedy Andy?

Ask me how I knew.

My less-than-delightful reverie was broken as I caught movement from the corner of my eye. I glanced down from the balcony of my suite to spot Silas Nicolis, the owner of his own hotel in Mykonos, Greece, and a friend of mine. Silas was one of those guys who used to love to give me a hard time, but nowadays, he was tasked with much more important pursuits.

Lexi, his voice floated up to me on the seventh floor. Want to race Daddy to the fountain? Ready, set, go!

Below, his daughter, Alexia, bounded forward on her stubby little toddler legs, her dark hair in two pigtails on either side of her head. I knew she was about a year and a half old, and based on the fact that I saw him perform this same ritual last night at seven, maybe this was his way of burning off some of her excess energy before bedtime.

Mr. Nicolis, a local lady with a heavy Bahamian accent approached him. I understand you requested babysitting services tonight?

Yes, I did. Sorry it was last minute.

Oh, no problem at all, sir. None at all.

Silas darted over to his daughter and gathered her up, lifting her into the air so fast that she squealed. I’m going to let this nice lady play with you for a little while, Lex. Me and Mommy will come get you soon. Can you be a good girl?

The distance was far enough that I couldn’t make out the child’s expression, but from the whimper she emitted, I was guessing Alexia wasn’t a fan of this idea. Fortunately, the babysitter had a creative streak.

Come now, little beauty. Don’t you want to play with Moana and Pearl? From behind her back, the lady produced two sock puppets constructed out of bright wool. I’m Moana, the babysitter affected a high squeaky voice. And I’m Pearl, she spoke in an even higher one. Won’t you play with us?

Lexi fell for it, reaching for the puppets. Silas handed her over, and the three of them continued to chatter together and move back towards the hotel.

Silas hadn’t seen me, and I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, so I slipped back inside. As an introvert, having time alone was a requirement I needed to fulfill daily, and today had largely been spent with my crazy group of friends. The truth was, had it not been for my cousin Zachary, I probably wouldn’t have these people as friends to begin with. Zach had gone to Oxford with Silas’s older brother Adam, and the two Nicolis brothers, along with their cousin Loukas Mikos, became a tightly knit group with Zach. He’d introduced me to them a few years after my modeling gig days while I was building my company, Lewis Designs, and now we all went away on these pact vacations annually to reconnect.

We’d come in June rather than July in order to enjoy the island’s All Andros Crab Fest on the beach, and I’d been more than ready for the trip. I definitely needed to relax this week. It’d been a stressful year, while also being an immensely profitable one. Lewis Designs had enjoyed such a phenomenal men’s clothing line this season that we’d won awards and had the strongest bottom line yet.

I’d gone from earning six figures as a model to seven figures as a businessman and CEO, and as of this year, I’d be joining the billionaire’s club. It was all a bit unreal, if I was being honest. Overwhelming, even. But I was proud of how I’d used my contacts to establish success. It made that whole Come on, Tanner, give us your best frowny face, mate, all worth it.

The way I looked at my past, posing for a photographer or audience had two main benefits. One, the aforementioned cash. And two, exposure to some of the biggest fashion icons in the industry. My access to these icons allowed me to learn what sells best in men’s fashion circles. Dolce and Gabbana. Tom Ford. Ralph Lauren. Burberry. Prada. Saint Laurent. Armani. I’d worn them all.

More significantly, I’d been invited to shindigs where those very people were amongst those downing caviar and tuna tartare. At the time, that world had been utterly foreign to me. I’d grown up on the wrong side of London in a flat many would consider more of a hovel. Having so much luxury thrown in my direction had been mind-blowing. But once I got past being the wide-eyed novice, I began to take note of trends.

What lovely checkered pattern would Tom Ford be utilizing for his dress shirts this year? What sort of lines were Dolce and Gabbana focusing on in their men’s sport jackets? What color scheme would Armani be showcasing that month in their newest tuxedo line? I was privy to all of it and more. I’d always loved art as a lad, and drawing was my passion. I turned those two loves and my knowledge of what sold well into designing garments for blokes. And voila. I’d managed to captivate the powers that be within the high-end men’s clothing industry.

It was as if luck and perfect timing had become bosom buddies with me.

Well, and I was a decent design artist, if I did say so myself. I always oversaw each and every piece before I gave it my approval. And it’d worked so far. Lewis Designs was my company and my baby. I defied anyone in my position to treat their own creation differently. It was my name embroidered on each one of those tags, after all.

Right before I left on this trip, I had the idea for a women’s line, something I hadn’t ever delved into prior to now. It was somewhat daunting. Women’s attire had always taken a much more sizable bite out of the market than men’s garments, and many claimed it to be oversaturated. I didn’t agree, however. Fashion was an industry constantly searching for the next big thing, and I knew my concepts had merit.

Still, I hadn’t shown anyone my sketchbook full of drawings yet. I took them with me everywhere I went, guarding them like bars of gold. Once I returned from this trip, I’d be bringing these unseen designs back to my company to manufacture into the real thing and launching them before the end of the year. I’d alerted all my heads of departments to expect a major project to be started the following Monday, so the second I marched back through those doors, they’d better be ready to hit the ground running.

I was ten percent terrified and ninety percent determined. Since this was precisely how I’d felt when sending out my initial feelers for my men’s line, I had a healthy dose of optimism on my side.

Zach referred to me as a workaholic, which I found rich coming from him. He once worked even more hours per week than I did. But yes, there was no denying that that adjective applied to me. Putting in at least one hundred hours a week hadn’t been unusual for me. But that was the way to foster a business and later, how to manage a growing empire. You must first put in the due diligence before you can obtain the rewards.

Not that such insights keep my assistant from reminding me of life outside of the walls of Lewis Designs. Last month, she’d been the one to inform me of one significant day’s passing.

Did you do anything special yesterday, Mr. Lewis? Betsey asked me from the opposite side of my workspace. Rather than a traditional rectangular executive desk, I’d purchased a slanted drafting table like architects used. Its mobility and versatility served my unique purposes and requirements far better.

I’d been knee deep in pattern drawings for our newest sock line—one that I secretly intended to be unisex across both my male and female lines—so all I’d said was, Yesterday?

Yes, sir. May 27 th. You know… your thirtieth birthday?

I stared at her. Yesterday had been a Sunday, I knew that much. Mainly because it equaled me working from home rather than at the office. Of course, my home office was an exact replica of my work office, so it didn’t make much difference, either way. Had it truly been the 27 th of May, though? How had I missed that?

Er, it was fine.

She smiled at me. Did you celebrate?

’Fraid not. But telling her that would lead us down a long rabbit hole where she’d proceed to chide me for not taking enough time off and treasuring what bounty I had already accumulated. Life is short, Mr. Lewis. It needs to be lived to its fullest, she’d repeatedly told me. And right then, I didn’t want to go there.

It was a rather modest celebration.

Betsey pursed her lips and adjusted the barrette in her grey hair. Born and bred there in Los Angeles, she had the bone structure of a starlet, and I knew back in her day, she’d spent her time auditioning for film roles as an actress. She never did hit it big, but she made a topnotch assistant, doing an excellent job of tying up all those tiny little details I always seemed to leave unraveled. The lady was old enough to be my grandmother and she did enjoy snooping into my private life. Of course, about the only private life I could recently claim were my once-a-year getaways. She’d been with me for less than two years, but she’d already proven to be a lifesaver.

Mr. Lewis… she began to tut, but I interrupted her rebuke.

No worries, though. I’ll be celebrating big time with my friends next month. We’re going to the Bahamas.

Her entire face lit like a Roman candle. Oh? That’s fantastic.

Thankfully, that’d been the end of that. In truth, I doubted my friends remembered my birthday either. They all had so much going on in their own lives with their new fiancées, spouses, children, and careers, that I was certain my big three-oh didn’t even register on their radars. That was fine. I’d long since outgrown my need to be the center of attention. In fact, I detested that. Just let me do my design thing and melt into the background where I belonged.

It was the part I’d played during our sushi lunch this afternoon. I’d had Betsey plan out much of this vacation, and as usual, she was amazing. The sushi restaurant she’d made reservations in had a veranda with palm fronds overlaying the top for shade, the required stunning turquoise ocean view, and these cute jumping fountains along the railing that squirted streams of water back and forth over our heads. The kids had loved watching them arch above us, the parents having to distract their sons and daughters from the spectacle so they would eat.

During this torrent of diversions, I’d heard all the updates. Adam and Zoe had been delighting in married life with their two kids over in the Big Apple. Silas and Kayla had made Hotel Parádeisos their permanent residence. Zachary had started to design a fresh wedding ring collection and Gabrielle had begun her own foundation for kids in need of bone marrow transplants. Loukas had stunned us all by proposing to Natalie last night, and Adam and Zoe had been quick to tell her that they would understand if she no longer wished to nanny for them. It’d been a red-letter year for all of us, and we all toasted each other with wishes of more success in the future.

We were due to have dinner in about an hour, so I went to lie across the long sofa in my suite’s living area. Before I could even sit down, though, the landline phone provided by the hotel rang with a loudness that startled me. Who would be calling from there? Especially since I hadn’t requested any kind of wake-up call or other appointments.

Mr. Lewis? asked a voice that sounded vaguely familiar.

Yep. This is he.

This is Leonard Knowles, the concierge here at the Paradise Bay Resort Club.

Hello, Mr. Knowles, I said, still feeling clueless.

Oh, please call me Leonard, sir. I apologize for disturbing your evening, but I’ve received a request for you to come down to the dining hall.

A request from whom?

The requester did not provide a name, but they said it was most urgent. Would you come, sir? I’ve been assured that the matter is highly important.