The Billionaire’s Scare: The Secret Billionaire’s Club Book Seven Read online

  The Billionaire’s Scare

  The Secret Billionaire’s Club Book Seven

  Tracey Pedersen

  Daring Online Adventures

  The Billionaire’s Scare

  Copyright © 2019 Tracey Pedersen

  All Rights Reserved

  * * *

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical or electronic, including photocopying, scanning or recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the author. This includes transmission by email.

  Reviewers are permitted to quote brief passages for the purpose of reviewing only.

  The Billionaire’s Scare is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is purely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized by, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  The entire Secret Billionaire’s Club series is dedicated to my fellow authors. Who knew such a fun, supportive community existed in an industry many consider to be ultra-competitive? For all the romance authors who gave guidance, shared their publishing secrets, let me into their Facebook groups, and laughed at my crappy jokes, these books are for you. To remind you that we really can go further together.

  Contents

  Chapter One - Kent

  Chapter Two - Ashley

  Chapter Three - Ashley

  Chapter Four - Kent

  Chapter Five - Kent

  Chapter Six - Kent

  Chapter Seven - Kent/Ashley

  Chapter Eight - Kent/Ashley

  Chapter Nine - Kent/Ashley

  Chapter Ten - Kent/Ashley

  Chapter Eleven - Kent

  Chapter Twelve - Ashley

  Chapter Thirteen - Kent/Ashley

  Chapter Fourteen - Kent

  Chapter Fifteen - Ashley

  Chapter Sixteen - Kent

  Chapter Seventeen - Kent

  The Steamy Sensations Books

  Also by Tracey Pedersen

  About the Author

  Before you go…

  Chapter One - Kent

  “I have a meeting room booked for three at the Hilton.” I wait for the argument that will follow my statement. After three months of negotiations I know Jeremiah Best doesn’t like sensible business surrounds one tiny bit. He doesn’t disappoint.

  “A meeting room? That sounds boring as shit, Kent. I thought you were a fun guy?”

  “I am a fun guy. But when we’re discussing a contract for thirty million dollars, I tend to channel my more serious side, you know?”

  “Let me choose the place.”

  “Last time we ended up in a sushi bar. With karaoke.”

  Jeremiah laughs, the sounds dwindling down to an evil gurgle. “Man, that karaoke host was the most. You can’t tell me that skimpy outfit didn’t inspire you to hammer out our deal.”

  “It made me hammer it out quicker than ever. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.” The memory of the host perched on the corner of our tiny table, while she sang badly, and inched up her skirt is something I try to suppress. Even now I feel dirty from the recollection.

  Jeremiah has no such qualms. “If we could find a place like that…” His voice trails off and an echo fills the line as he puts me on speaker. “Hang on. Let me do a quick search.” A few seconds pass and I use the time to throw a few shirts in my suitcase. The minute this deal is done I’m on a plane to Vanuatu. Two weeks of lying on the beach without a single thought about business is my plan. I blink at the vivid image that floats into my mind. Me, alone on the beach. Again.

  I push a beautiful face, with green eyes and long auburn hair out of my mind. She sneaks in a lot. Mostly in tiny morsels of down time, like the few seconds it takes my business associate to find us a seedy place to hold our final meeting before signing our contracts.

  I throw a large yellow envelope across the bed, the thump it makes reminding me that we’ve spent a year trying to agree to terms. Wherever Jeremiah chooses for our meeting, I’ll agree to it. If only to get this finalised. Thirty million dollars is a decent return on a company that cost me two thousand dollars when I set it up three years ago.

  I’m on top of the world, knowing we’re almost at the finish line. There’s not a single hurdle between me and the money, except for the signature of one of the largest take-over merchants in the world. After tonight I’m done.

  “Top Town Girls is always decent. Let’s meet there at six. I’ll book us a table.”

  “Girls? Is that what I think it is?”

  “If you see hot chicks, with their best assets on display, their eyes begging us to hand them cool green wads of notes, then yes.” He snickers. “It’s dress up week, apparently. Halloween themed, though I’m not sure I’m into zombies. Kind of difficult to get a hard-on with a woman painted green and displaying oozing sores. I prefer my ladies alive.”

  “I’m surprised you even have that standard.” I cringe. Jeremiah is a dirty dog and I’ve invested a lot of time perfecting my blank stare when he’s doing disgusting things or making lewd comments. After this deal is done, he and I won’t be hanging out together. Like, ever. I plan to delete his number and block him. I learned that trick from my seventeen-year-old niece last Christmas. “Anyway, couldn’t we hit the club afterward? Get the contract signed and finalised first, you know?”

  I plan to come down with a mystery ailment and skip the unsavoury afterparty. I have no desire to ogle naked women. Not when my dreams are filled with images of Ashley. The only woman I’ve seen naked in nearly a year. The only woman I’d risk everything to find.

  If Ashley knocked on my door right now, I’d blow off the meeting, this contract and anything else I had to. After months of searching for her, she’d be top of my priorities if I even had the slightest idea where to look for her. A siren catches my attention in the distance as Jeremiah blathers on, justifying his reasons for liking seedy clubs. I tune him out and move toward the window to look down on the city.

  Melbourne. The city where we met. Where we laughed and danced the night away, once her shift with the caterer ended. The city where we talked into the early hours, then kissed. Then spent the best night of my life. At first, I booked the same hotel every time I was in Melbourne, hoping we’d run into each other. Then, when it became clear I wouldn’t see her again, the memories sucked too much and now I don’t even drive up that street. Last night the driver looked at me like I was nuts when I requested he avoid the two-block radius I pointed to on the map.

  It hurts to pass the bar on the corner where we held hands. After three giant cocktails there was no separating us. We shared our dreams. Our passions. Where we wanted to be in five years. Of course, Ashley shared a little more than I did, since I kept all talk of money out of it. If I’d known I’d be obsessing about her ten months later, I’d have shared a lot more. Enough to make sure we didn’t kiss goodbye in the morning with a promise not to tell. Wondering if she liked me for my billionaire status would be preferable to wondering where she is. If I had my time over, I’d refuse to keep our secret. I’d insist we exchange numbers. I would not have flown to London intent on orchestra tickets. I’d be with her now.

  I’ve never been more certain of
anything in my life.

  Chapter Two - Ashley

  “I’m not sure what time I’ll be home. Thanks again for helping me out, Hildy.”

  My neighbour grins and holds out her arms. I gently place the wrapped bundle who is Zeke into her arms. She tucks him into her breast and coos over him, her finger touching his tightly fisted hand. “Gosh. He’s so adorable. I remember my babies when they were new.”

  I lean over and brush my lips against his soft forehead, closing my eyes and breathing in his baby smell. I never realised babies had a special scent all their own. I swear the baby books I devoured in the last few months never said anything about it. Faced with leaving him, I nearly change my mind, grab him back and retreat to my apartment.

  I can’t do that, though. Our situation is precarious and throwing away this opportunity to earn cash, no matter how crappy, would be a terrible idea. Instead I smile my biggest smile as Hildy rocks him gently.

  He’ll be happy with her tonight. Happy and safe.

  “You come back any time you like. If it goes well and you need him to stay the night, just text me. I’ll be awake until you come to collect him otherwise.”

  Hildy turns sideways and I give her a hug, my arm sliding off Zeke’s blanket until there’s only air. He snuffles and lets out a tiny, and adorable, hiccup. Hildy and I share a grin, and my heart contracts again. I’ve only left him twice since he was born. This is the longest we’ll be apart and the thought of why is killing me.

  I hand over his bag and show her the bottles I have ready. Hildy nods and waves, then closes the door, cutting off my view of the boy who holds all my hopes and dreams in his tiny little palm.

  I’d do anything for Zeke. My Zeke. The unexpected surprise I received after the best New Year’s Eve of my life. The night that’s now a distant memory. That’s not true, I muse to myself as I trudge down the stairs. I’ve never stopped thinking of Kent and the night we shared. A week doesn’t go by that I don’t wish we’d exchanged numbers. Or even last names. He said he spent most of his time overseas, so I’ve long since put my daydreams of running into him aside.

  At least I have Zeke. He’s a perfect reminder of a perfect time. When that baby turns his eyes to me in a certain way, the resemblance is unmistakeable, even though he’s tiny. A few times my daydreams have made it all the way to a reunion with Kent. We meet in a shopping centre and he looks into the pram and immediately recognises his boy. He sweeps me off my feet and we live happily ever after.

  I’d give anything for a chance at that dream.

  The security door bangs behind me and I walk toward the car, resisting any urge to examine the rear tyres that I’m certain need replacing. They aren’t dangerous yet, but it won’t be long, and I’ll need a whole new set. I don’t know where I’ll find the money. This month’s rent payment will empty my account. My only credit card is over the limit and I’m out of options. My landlord is circling, gloating about the rent increase he’ll burden the next tenant with, should he be successful in getting rid of me.

  I check my makeup in the rear-view mirror and wipe away the tears. Now that I’m alone in the car, they leak down my cheeks unhindered. I’m out of options with no one to turn to who can make it better. My independence is biting me big time. Something my sister was quick to point out the last time we spoke.

  Well, I spoke. She shouted.

  Hence, the situation I find myself in tonight. Driving to a job that’s going to cover the shortfall in my rent and buy baby formula for the next week. The one that’s an absolute last resort. The one I swore I’d never do.

  This is the one job that terrifies me but losing a safe place for Zeke terrifies me more. It’s only a tiny stumble to losing him altogether, once we don’t have anywhere to live.

  I’ll never let that happen, no matter how I have to make money.

  I growl to myself as I start the car. I wouldn’t need to buy formula if I didn’t have to leave him and go to work. I’m kidding myself that expressing will be enough. I’ve spent days just getting enough milk for the couple of bottles I left with Hildy for tonight. I’m pretty sure the crying I was doing sucked all the moisture from my body. I always imagined I’d feed my baby for months and months, but my daydreams of motherhood never included doing it on my own. I just have to make the best of it.

  When I pull away from the curb an envelope slides off the dash onto the passenger seat. I glance at it and sigh. When I stop at the red light at the corner, I lean over and open the glove compartment, shoving the letter inside, ignoring the pile of bills I’ve already stashed in there. I slam it shut and accelerate through the intersection, tears threatening again as the numbers fly through my head.

  I’ll have to pay the gas company by the middle of next month. I’ve let my house insurance lapse, but kept the car insured. Netflix is a distant memory, as is any kind of leisure activity, like an occasional movie. No-name grocery items are a feature of my shopping trips now, and I’ve convinced myself that I enjoy eating rice a lot more than I do. I’m reading books from the library, which will double as a fun outing for Zeke as he gets older, so that’s nice. Even when we get back on our feet, I’ll be keeping our Saturday visit to discover new books.

  It’s six months since I showed up for work one day to find the doors to the factory closed and a sign on the door informing staff to contact the receivers. Five years of service and not a word that they were going out of business. I kept a few weeks of annual leave up my sleeve in case I ever wanted to quit and move to a new job, but the receivers informed me that entitlement, along with any payment I was owed, was lost. A few days later I discovered I was pregnant with my precious boy.

  I’ve been scrambling to make ends meet ever since.

  The carpark behind the gentlemen’s club has plenty of space and I slide into a spot close to the entrance. The idea of it being called a gentlemen’s club makes me laugh. What kind of men go here? Not the kind I think of as gentlemen.

  My hands shake. I can’t seem to stop them. My eyes in the rear-view mirror accuse me of selling out. Of not trying hard enough to find a better solution.

  Fake it until you make it, Ashley.

  With those stern words I step out of the car, square my shoulders and strut to the side door of the club. Determination has got me this far, and tonight that same trait will ensure I keep a roof over our heads for just a little longer.

  A little voice whispers in my ear as the door bangs closed behind me and the darkness of the club engulfs me.

  If I don’t get a permanent job soon, I could lose everything.

  Chapter Three - Ashley

  “You sure about this? You look a little green. Maybe you should have chosen the alien costume. Green would go so well with that mass of red curls.”

  I’ve been assigned a mentor with a sense of humour.

  Her stripper name is Naomi and she’s tall and willowy, with perfect makeup, and beautiful long lashes, which she assures me are courtesy of the salon up the street. Naomi, and her expensive blonde mane make me feel self-conscious without even trying. Even though I’m slim, with long hair and quite long legs myself, I’m a lot curvier than I was a year ago, courtesy of the sweet boy waiting at home with Hildy. Also, courtesy of the fifty gallons of ice cream I ate while I was pregnant with him, lamenting my single parent status and the loss of the love of my life.

  I’ve chosen a bunny outfit for tonight, because the full brief tucks in around my waist. My ample breasts strain against the pink velvet material and I frown as I turn sideways to look in the mirror.

  “Relax, Tara. You’re stunning. You just need to get your nerves under control.”

  I frown again at the mirror. “I keep telling myself I can do it, but I want to run away.”

  “You need a goal.” She takes my shoulders and turns me to face her. I resist staring at the bobbing feather she has pinned in her hair as she asks, “What are you here for?”

  I sigh at my new sexy-pirate friend. “To pay the rent.”

/>   “Okay. So, work out in your head how much you need and what that equals. Try not to let the concentration show on your face, or Slav will have your head, but you can think that goal to yourself over and over until your nerves disappear. Honestly, after one or two guys book you, or throw a fifty onto the stage, you’ll feel better.” She turns away and checks her makeup in the mirror. “It’s not so bad.”

  “If it was just dancing I’d be able to block it out. I’m terrified of the bookings. Of someone I don’t know touching me.”

  Naomi shrugs. “You get used to it. I think of it as a lot more exciting than an office job and with shorter hours.”

  “In an office you get to keep your clothes on.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe the boss drools on you all day and makes you feel like he’s undressing you with his eyes. Maybe he’s a lazy ass who takes credit for your work after you slave over your computer for weeks on end. I figure I might as well be here and get paid for all my naked glory.”

  “Why did you come here the first time?”

  “I came to pay the rent.” She winks and sashays toward the door. “Now I come to pay the mortgage on my fancy apartment, shout myself hundred-dollar eyeliner, and to buy four hundred-dollar shoes.”

  I laugh and shake my head and she shrugs again.

  “It’s really not so bad. Also, I can’t type for shit.”

  Four dances. That’s all I need to cover the rent. Four dances.

  “How am I going to get through four lap dances?” I mutter to myself, my shaking legs carrying me toward the curtain. I adjust my bunny ears and ignore the flip flop in my belly. I want to vomit, but I imagine that’s top of the do-not-do-this list of instructions that should be handed to all strippers before their first night.