Designed by Destiny

By Maya Tyler

After a painful break-up in university, Bethany Clarke has sworn off love to focus on her career. From her humble South Side beginnings to her position as an architect intern at a prestigious Chicago firm, she's proven to be a hard worker and is proud of her accomplishments. In three years, she’ll be a fully licensed architect which is more important to her than anything else.

Confirmed bachelor Nicholas Grey is more than the playboy perpetrated by the tabloids. Now his position as CEO of the architecture firm Grey & Company is on the line, and his mother’s interference is making things more difficult. Nick’s committed to his work, but, in order to be taken seriously, he needs to land a huge project. A stable personal life will help guarantee the contract.

Fairy Godmother Faye Delmore hears Nick’s plea and steps in to help. Posing as a publicist, she suggests a strategy to polish his public image, which includes convincing Beth to play his wife. Faye knows Nick needs the huge project to save his job, but she also knows he needs Beth in his life.

What happens when you add a fairy godmother who loves playing matchmaker into the equation? A future designed by destiny.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing
• Release date: Nov 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005296605

Book preview

Chapter One

The street, more specifically The Las Vegas Strip, was lit up like a Christmas tree. There was no other way to describe the awesome sight illuminating the desert sky. With all the lights, it could be daytime. Bethany Clarke gawked openly at the garish displays of debauchery amid the architectural wonders. As an architect, she had to appreciate the landmark replicas, starting with the Eiffel Tower right across the road. As a woman, she had to wonder what some of the scantily clad, stiletto-wearing ladies were thinking as they teetered past her. In her simple pantsuit, slightly crumpled from the plane, no one gave her a second glance. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t visiting fabulous Las Vegas to be seen and fawned over. Her firm was attending the annual International Design and Build Convention and Exposition, and she had been invited to attend.

Newly graduated and newly hired, Beth had been surprised when her manager recommended her for the coveted trip. She didn’t know the other attendees that well—only recognized the dreamy CEO. They’d taken a private plane, and a limo had met them at the airport. It took everything she had not to let her jaw drop at such luxuries. The others had rushed into the Bellagio to check in, but Beth needed a moment to collect herself before she continued on her foray into lifestyles of the rich and famous. She clutched her carry-on-sized suitcase and enjoyed the majestic fountain show before floating back to reality. She had to check in and freshen up before tonight’s meet and greet in the famed conservatory. Like the greenest of travelers, who hadn’t even stepped outside her home state of Illinois, she studied all the tourist websites so she wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. And yet, she still managed to do so, she noted with a self-deprecating groan.

Her mind was still spinning from the private check-in at the VIP Lounge as she rode the elevator up to her suite. The whole experience felt like a dream. She was totally out of her element, fearing her fellow elevator companions would see her as a fraud. The lady standing to her right carried a purse that cost more than her monthly mortgage payment. Beth dropped her gaze so no one would notice her bugging-out eyes. She grew up in South Side Chicago. This was a completely different world.

Time had managed to get away from her, likely while she watched the fountain show, so she skipped touring the lavish suite, opting for a quick shower. She scattered the contents of her suitcase over the bed, rummaging through her clothes until she found the black cocktail dress. Understated, but elegant. That’s how her friend Cara Roberts, fashionista extraordinaire, described it. She twirled in front of the full-length mirror. The ensemble, complete with a practical pair of black kitten heels, looked—well, fine. She looked fine. Presentable, even. With a stabilizing inhalation, she squared her shoulders, preparing for the battlefield otherwise known as a business social, and collected her black clutch.

The conservatory didn’t disappoint. Pretending she didn’t have to mingle with the other guests for a moment, Beth strolled leisurely around, absorbing the enchanting botanical displays. A circulating waiter offered her a drink, and she gratefully accepted a flute of champagne. Some liquid courage.

There you are, darling.

She heard the man call out, but surely he wasn’t speaking to her. She didn’t know a soul in this room. Although, she’d probably put off the mingling portion of the evening for as long as was politely possible. She scanned the room for someone who looked… approachable.

A tall man in a black suit appeared at her side, leaning close enough to whisper in her ear. Just play along.

Before she had a chance to reply, the stranger cupped the back of her neck and captured her lips in a soft but sensual kiss. He abruptly released her for a moment before tucking her against his side. She glanced up, but from her close proximity—practically standing in his pocket—she couldn’t see more than the profile of his chiseled jaw. Come on, Beth. It seemed she’d read one too many romance novels over the years if chiseled jaw was her flowery observation. She appreciated his solid physique and unexpected woodsy cologne before she snapped back to attention. Stranger. Kiss. What the hell is happening here?

Well, well. I never thought I’d live to see the day the proverbial playboy settled down. And with this lovely creature, no less. An older gentleman in a dark-grey tailored suit touched her hand, bringing it to his lips. Are you going to properly introduce us?

Maybe later. She could hear the mirth in his voice. Right now, I need to steal my Blue Eyes away. Without waiting for a response, he ushered her toward the exit.

She clutched onto his arm, walking as quickly as she could manage in her heels. She was really more of a flats kind of gal. But that didn’t matter. She had more important things to worry about. Like who was this guy and where the hell were they going? Just outside the conservatory, she dug her fingers into the lush material of his suit. I think you owe me an explanation, mister.

He stepped back, letting her hand drop from his arm, allowing her the first complete glimpse. The owner of the chiseled jaw was handsome—Hollywood handsome—with tousled dark-blond hair and soulful green eyes. Her heart fluttered when she realized she knew him. Well, didn’t know him exactly. More like she knew of him because of his reputation and the fact that she worked for his company. Nicholas Grey. Her jaw dropped open. The evening had taken an unexpected turn. Understatement of the year. She donned her most serious, I-mean-business look and held his gaze, waiting for his explanation. This better be good. She resisted the impulse to tap her toes, willing her body to keep any hints of unease to itself. This trip was such an opportunity. She wasn’t going to let this inappropriate overture set her back. They’d clear the air now—it had to be a huge misunderstanding—she’d be wildly successful this weekend, and earn a lead position on the next project.

He flashed her a disarming smile, radiating unapologetic sex appeal. God, she understood why so many women fell under his spell. Well, she wasn’t just any woman. She had plans for her future which didn’t leave time for relationships. The air vibrated around them with undiffused tension. He just stood there, all suave. Wasn’t he going to say anything? She perched her hands on her hips. Maybe he wasn’t as intelligent as she’d thought. Maybe the whole successful company thing was nothing but a complete fluke.

Well, as fun as this— she made a waving gesture between them, is, I have other things to do tonight. The plans consisted of prepping for the trade show and going to bed (to sleep) early, but he didn’t need to know that. She rolled her eyes at his continued muteness, turned on her heels, and headed for the elevators. She’d made an appearance at the meet and greet, satisfying her work obligations for the evening. Now it was time to release her feet from their patent leather prison and test out the deep soaking tub she’d eyed in the bathroom. As strange as that encounter had been, she was sure all would be forgotten by tomorrow.

Pushing any lingering thoughts of Nicholas out of her mind, her lips curled into an excited smile. This weekend’s convention had a full schedule, with the opportunity to connect with so many influential people in the industry. The next two days promised to be—a yawn caught her off-guard. She must be more tired than she realized.

Startled, Beth grabbed her phone when she heard the text message indicator.

How is Vegas?

She tapped her chin with her index finger, thinking of a succinct response for Cara. The trip had been a bit more complicated than expected. Nicholas’ devilishly handsome face flashed in her mind.

Fine.

She groaned, picturing Cara’s reaction to her uninformative reply. She wasn’t surprised when her phone lit up with an incoming video call.

Spill the beans.

Hello to you too.

Beth. Cara wiggled her finger at the camera. You talked about this trip—and pretty much nothing else—for how long? Two weeks? Like it was going to be the cat’s pajamas. And now, suddenly, it’s just fine. She arched her finely-manicured eyebrow. I don’t buy what you’re selling, girl.

Busted. Cara knew her too well. What could she say to placate her friend? Her mouth opened and closed. At this moment, nothing less than the full and absolute truth would satisfy. Nicholas Grey kissed me.

Now it was Cara’s turn to gape. Where?

On the lips.

I figured that. Cara grinned. Where did he kiss you?

Downstairs, in the conservatory—

Ohh… Sounds romantic.

It’s not a big deal.

I know you were crushing on him.

She inhaled sharply. This conversation was getting out of hand. Right. Who wouldn’t? He’s gorgeous, successful, but it never meant anything. People have crushes on celebrities too… it’s not like ordinary people have a snowball’s chance in Hell...

Well, you never know—

I don’t even think he knew who I was.

Then why would he kiss you?

I think he was putting on a show.

Come on, Beth. This is like pulling teeth. What gave you the impression he was performing?

Beth pinched the bridge of her nose. He called me ‘Blue Eyes’ and wouldn’t introduce me to his companion.

Okay, that is a bit strange.

Then he practically hauled me away, only stopping when I clawed his arm. I demanded an explanation and he… he stood there staring at me. It was so weird.

So, what are you going to do?

Nothing. I’ve got an early rise and a big day tomorrow… And, on that note—

Okay, okay. Cara wiggled her finger again. Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook.

G’night, Cara. Beth ended the call without waiting for a response, feeling only slight guilt for hanging up on her friend. Plus, what she’d said was one hundred percent true. She had an early rise and full schedule… The thing with Nicholas Grey—whatever it was—was a misunderstanding that they’d both put behind them. With his colorful reputation, she doubted he’d even give her a second thought. Then why did she keep thinking about him? She touched her lips, flushing when she thought about his masterful kiss. It was just momentary craziness that she could chalk up to… jet lag. Yes, jet lag worked.

Chapter Two

Nicholas Grey stared out the porthole, letting the conversations swirl around him. He didn’t care to participate in mind-numbing small talk and would’ve moved to the far side of the plane if he hadn’t been concerned about looking rude. He had a lot on his mind. Success this weekend was equated with the continued success of his company. The company was kicking off the year with several large-scale projects on the books, but he was ambitious. There was one project in particular he was practically salivating over. Securing that contract would be more than another feather in his hat. It would be the culmination of years of hard work, leading to the ultimate validation. He needed to step out of his father’s shadow and achieve success in his own right. Everything he’d ever wanted was within reach.

As the limo pulled away from the curb, he encouraged his colleagues to head inside to check in. His assistant had booked the entire contingent suites in the Bellagio. He admired the elegant lines of the luxurious hotel before turning toward the fountains. Ensuring his staff were not amongst the crowd viewing the show, he reached into his pocket. He held the coin in his hand, flicking it between his fingers. Making a wish seemed juvenile, but judging from the numerous coins shimmering in the water, he wasn’t the only one appealing to Lady Luck. However, his wish wasn’t for success in the casinos. He wanted to land a project—possibly the project of his whole career—and wishing for a little luck couldn’t hurt. He tossed the coin in before he ridiculed himself into changing his mind.

Hard work and dedication—not wishes—made companies successful. His advisors, including his friend and firm’s lawyer Gregory Xavier, would think he’d lost his edge if they saw him now. He prowled around the hotel suite like a caged animal, waiting for the meet and greet, the first social event of the conference, to begin. Knowing he only had one shot at making a good first impression, he had prepared extensively for his meeting with the hotel tycoon Jamison Kingsbury. He hadn’t been able to schedule an official appointment with the tycoon, but he had it on good authority that he’d see him at the social. He fanned his notes across the dinette table. All his research and discreet inquiries pointed to Kingsbury’s imminent acquisition of a national chain of boutique hotels. These properties, mainly in historic buildings, would all require some degree of restoration; perhaps, in the worst-case scenario, even a full gut and remodel. His passion for architecture stemmed from a longstanding fascination with historical buildings. Many of his original designs incorporated historical elements. He appreciated the timelessness. One day, he’d be gone, but his legacy, his buildings, would remain, standing testament to his existence. He rolled his eyes at his uncharacteristic sentimentality. Making the wish earlier must have unlocked some long-repressed fancy. He stalked over to the wet bar, helping himself to a nip of scotch. He needed to get his head screwed on right before he spoke with Kingsbury.

The conservatory was filled with schmoozing industry up-and-comers wearing their cocktail hour finery, mingling with the seasoned old-timers clad in the pinnacle of fashion faux pas. He scanned the crowd smugly. When you got to the top of the heap, you didn’t need to dress to impress. He’d played it safe, opting for a classic black suit with a designer label exclusive enough to impress without appearing too pretentious. He liberated a flute of champagne from a circulating waiter as he surreptitiously scanned the crowd again, looking for his quarry. A dark-skinned young woman with striking black hair caught his eye, but unfortunately the quarry he sought tonight was for business, not pleasure. He spied Kingsbury and sauntered in his direction.

Mr. Kingsbury. How are you this evening? He extended his right hand, alluding the perfect balance of confidence and affability.

Mr. Grey, your reputation precedes you.

Nick forced a smile, bracing for the anticipated judgement on his reputation as one of Chicago’s most eligible bachelors and, mostly undeserved, frivolous lifestyle.

I was most impressed with your work on the Blackstone restoration.

Thank you, sir. Nick offered a genuine smile. I extend all the credit to my dedicated team.

Where do you see your team, and indeed your company, in five years?

Nick relaxed his stance, reverting into his trademark ability to think on his feet. Like a typical job interview, he sensed Kingsbury taking his measure not only through his words but by his demeanor. Kingsbury wasn’t just looking to hire Grey & Company, he was evaluating Nicholas Grey, the man. We have interest in expanding our historic restoration department. Work completed on the Blackstone is just a fraction of what we can offer—

Kingsbury held up his hand, halting Nick’s sales pitch. You don’t need to sell me on your work. I’m interested in your vision.

Nick faltered slightly, furrowing his eyebrows. Wasn’t it all synonymous—direction, vision? What angle was Kingsbury working?

What will be your legacy, Nicholas? If I may call you Nicholas.

Nick nodded. An appreciation for varied architectural styles drew me to this industry, but I’m interested in more than making new contributions. Our role in preserving history is just as critical. And, if allowed the creative license, I see incorporating modernization with historical elements in our designs, like an architectural fusion.

Kingsbury smiled approvingly. Your vision sounds very innovative.

Would you have interest in working with us? I can meet—

Your work is impressive, but our majority shareholders are old-fashioned, expressing concern about your future.

Grey & Company is solvent, a financial position supported by multi-year pro forma statements which I can provide—

The shareholders have concerns about you, Nicholas. They want to invest in your company, but they would prefer more stability in your private life. Kingsbury averted his gaze, looking uncomfortable for the first time during their conversation.

He placed his now empty glass on a strategically positioned cocktail table. I can assure you, much of that reputation— he made the air quotes gesture for