The Billionaire's Christmas Miracle (Sweet Billionaires 3) Read online

  When the clock read three thirty, Gwen packed up her things and picked up the flowers. They were so large they blocked her vision, and she was forced to turn sideways to see where she was going.

  “Whoa, that is an armful. Need some help?”

  Gwen’s heart dropped when she recognized the voice of Tom Boyer, the PE teacher. He had asked her out several times, but Gwen had always turned him down. Not only was he not her type, but he cursed like a sailor. Gwen couldn’t stand the sound of curse words, never used them, and had made a promise she would never be with anyone who did. Unfortunately, Tom hadn’t taken her declining his offer well. He’d made it a point to stop by her classroom at least once a week, always with the ruse that he was discussing a student but really, he simply wanted to compliment her.

  “No, I’m fine, thank you.” She kept her tone friendly, hoping he would get the hint and leave her alone. No such luck.

  “Someone die?” He said it like a joke, but Gwen didn’t find it funny. She hadn’t wanted flowers when her parents were killed. She had simply wanted them back. He had probably never lost anyone close to him if he could joke about death so callously.

  “No, they’re from a guy I’m seeing.” Gwen didn’t mean to lie. The words slipped out before she could rein them in, however, they did have the intended effect. A look of disbelief crossed Tom’s features followed by one of resignation, but he did drop the pursuit and walk away. Unfortunately, Gwen also knew he wouldn’t keep the knowledge to himself. By tomorrow, everyone would want to know about this new mystery man.

  With a sigh, she continued to her car but paused when she reached it. Her eyes flicked from the front seat to the flowers. It would be a tight squeeze just to fit them in. She slung her purse in the backseat first and then maneuvered the flowers into the passenger seat. They filled most of the seat, and she debated buckling them in with the seatbelt but decided against it. She looked comical enough as it was.

  The drive back to her house was slow though. Every time she tapped the brakes, she feared the flowers would tumble off the seat and onto the floor, and her arm would shoot across as if protecting a child.

  When she reached her apartment, she circled it once to see if any of her nosy neighbors were out. An elderly woman lived a few doors down and made it her mission to know everything that was going on in the apartment. While Gwen didn’t normally mind the woman or her curiosity, she had no desire to answer the woman’s questions tonight. Thankfully, the woman was nowhere to be seen.

  As quickly as she could, Gwen parked the car, grabbed the flowers and her personal items, and hightailed it into her apartment. Only when the door shut behind her, did she allow her guard to drop.

  Gwen placed the flowers on her small bar and pulled out her cell phone. She needed Carrie and her advice.

  Half an hour later, Carrie arrived at the front door, bags of Chinese food in her hands.

  “I’ve got fo…. whoa, are those from Drew Devonshire?” she asked as she stepped into the room.

  “Who else would they be from? That arrangement had to cost a few hundred dollars.”

  Carrie set the bags on the table and walked closer to the flowers. A low whistle escaped her lips. “At least. Please tell me you’ll see him again now.”

  Gwen sucked in her breath. She still wasn’t sure. After her last class had left, she had decided to call - she needed to at least find out if he knew about her being fired - and then chickened out. The first time, she had barely touched the phone. The second time, she managed to dial the first number. The last time, she managed to dial all but the last number. But she just couldn’t complete the call.

  “He didn’t have to send flowers, you know,” Carrie said. “He had already given back the bracelet. He had no reason to connect with you again.”

  “Unless it was to apologize for getting me fired. If that’s the case, flowers aren’t enough.”

  “Was there a card?”

  Gwen sighed. “There was, but he didn’t mention an apology. Could he really not know though?”

  Carrie folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head. “Well, there’s one way to find out.”

  “I know, but what do I even say to him?”

  “I don’t know,” Carrie said, punctuating her words with an eye roll. “How about thank you for starters?”

  Gwen stared down at her cell phone. Could she do it? Could she call him?

  “Come on. I’ll be right here for moral support.”

  Her fingers trembled as she punched in the numbers. Then the sound of a ring reached her ears.

  * * *

  Drew read over the paperwork again. Fate had dealt Gwen Rodgers a rough hand. Her parents had died in an auto accident shortly after her twelfth birthday. Drew couldn’t even imagine. How did you go to bed one night and wake up the next day with no family? Not surprisingly, the police report stated that Gwen had been almost unresponsive when given the news.

  Then, she had been taken into Child Protective Service custody. Drew knew that most of the time, the case workers did great work and found wonderful homes for children who needed a safe place, but he also knew bad people slipped through the cracks. It appeared Gwen’s first house had been one of the latter. The father had apparently locked her in a closet and fed her through a small door. She had been deprived of sunlight for nearly a week until the school had finally called the case worker looking for her. Why it had taken a week was beyond Drew, and he could only imagine how traumatized Gwen must have been. In fact, considering all she had been through, it was amazing she was as well-adjusted as she seemed now. What had made that difference?

  Beside him the phone rang, and he picked it up without bothering to check the caller ID. Few people had his personal number, so it was probably his mother anyway. “This is Drew.”

  There was a pause, and then a quiet voice said, “Hi, Drew, this is Gwen Rodgers.”

  Instantly, he gripped the phone tighter and turned all his attention to the call. “Hello, Gwen. Did you receive the flowers?” He wanted to smack himself as the words left his mouth. Of course, she had gotten the flowers. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have his number.

  “I did, and um thank you, but I need to ask what they were for.”

  For? He thought back to what he had written on the note. Hadn’t he said what they were for? “They were a thank you for the lovely evening of the masquerade ball and an offering in hopes you would let me take you out.”

  “So, they weren’t an apology?”

  Drew’s brow knitted together. An apology? Was there something he needed to apologize for? “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

  There was a small sigh on the other end. “I was fired last night from my catering job.”

  “What? Gwen, I didn’t do that. I would never have asked them to fire you.”

  “I believe you,” she said, “but someone did. Do you know who might have done that?”

  Drew had an idea. His mother had been upset at the scene. If anyone had said anything to her, she might have retaliated. “Gwen, I’m so sorry. It might have been my mother. This is all my fault.”

  “No, it’s my fault. I should never have been at the ball.”

  “Gwen, let me make it up to you. What do you need?” He didn’t think she would take his money, but he was offering it anyway. “Do you want me to speak to your boss?”

  Gwen scoffed on the other end. “Don’t bother. It won’t do any good. I’ll find another job somewhere.”

  He could help with that. From looking over her paperwork, he knew she donated a little money to a foster care charity. “What if I could give you a job?”

  Gwen’s answer was a nervous chuckle. “I wasn’t looking for a pity hire, Drew.”

  Man, she was perceptive, but maybe he could play it off. “It’s not a pity hire. I’ve been looking for new tax write offs, and I know we don’t donate all we are allowed. It wouldn’t be a lot of hours, but I could use someone who has a passion for a cause to handle our donations
.”

  There was a pause on the other end. “How do you know I have a passion for a cause?” Her voice was hesitant.

  Drew bit the inside of his lip. He wasn’t ready to tell her he had been looking into her. “I’m sorry, I just figured since your church seemed so important to you that you might support a cause. Don’t church people do that?” he finished lamely.

  “Have you ever been to church?” Gwen’s voice held a note of disbelief.

  “A few times, but I’m certainly not a regular attender. I’m sorry if I assumed incorrectly. If you don’t want the job, I’m sure I can find someone else-” As he hoped it would, the reverse psychology spurred Gwen into action.

  “No, don’t do that. I’d be delighted to take that on for you. I have a few charities very dear to my heart, and I would love the opportunity to send more money their way.”

  “Wonderful. Can you meet me at the Kingston tomorrow?” The Kingston was another of their hotels. Drew didn’t want to meet at the Devonshire for fear of running into his mother, but she rarely visited the Kingston leaving the management of it up to him.

  “I work until four, but I could meet you there after?” The hesitation was back in Gwen’s voice and made her statement come off like a question. Was it due to his meeting choice?

  “How about five? I’ll meet you in the lobby, we can discuss business, and then perhaps we can partake of some food.” He, on the other hand, phrased his request as a declaration. He had learned long ago that confidence won a lot of battles.

  “I can do five. Do I need to bring anything?”

  “Your ID and Social. I’m sure it won’t be an issue, but we run a background check on all our employees.” This was perfect. Hiring her had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, but now he wouldn’t have to act like he didn’t know about her past.

  “Understood. I’ll see you then.”

  As Drew hung up the phone, he couldn’t help but feel a little excitement at the prospect of seeing Gwen again. Even better, he was going to have her near him at least once a week. The way he saw it, this was a win-win situation all around.

  Chapter 8

  “You feel like getting a coffee?”

  Drew looked up from the reports he was studying to see Avery, looking pressed and pristine in the doorway of his office.

  “Sure. I need a break from these anyway. Quarterly reports always mire down my day.”

  “Grab your coat then. There’s a place just down the block I’ve really missed.”

  Drew nodded, wondering if the place she was referring to was Chez Cafe. It was a trendy, hipster place just around the corner that served specialty coffee and French pastries, and it was one of his favorite places as well.

  He shrugged into his Burberry coat and plucked the scarf from the coat rack. The air had turned quite chilly today, almost as if the weather knew it was now November and therefore it needed to plunge into freezing temperatures to prepare for the first snowfall.

  “Won’t you need a coat?” he asked as his eyes roamed her frame. Her pantsuit was designer and expensive, but it didn’t appear very warm.

  “I left it with your doorman,” she said with a flick of her hand. “It’s too warm in here to wear it. Plus, it makes me look twenty pounds heavier. Perhaps I should design a coat that still shows off a woman’s curves.”

  “You could do that,” Drew said biting back a smile. Avery was not one who accepted defeat, and he knew if he told her she wasn’t a designer that she would do all she could to prove him wrong.

  “No, I couldn’t.” She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m an artist, not a designer.”

  “Well, I’m sure you could hire someone who could design it for you.” Fitted coats was not a topic of conversation Drew wanted to continue further. He didn’t care about a woman’s coat. In truth, he rarely noticed them. Eyes were what he focused on. There was so much you could see in someone’s eyes, especially someone of depth. Like Gwen’s eyes who had haunted his visions since the night of the ball.

  “Now that is not a bad idea.” With a purposeful stride, Avery led the way into the foyer. Her heels clacked against the marble flooring, and Drew couldn’t help but notice the subtle swaying of her hips. Was that for him or had she always walked that way? He couldn’t remember, but it had been years since he had seen her. She could have acquired the trait along the way.

  She paused just long enough to rescue her coat from the doorman and then she was stepping out into the dreary grey weather. The wind pulled at Drew’s coat with icy fingertips as he followed her as if trying to peel away his warmth. Drew loved winter - the snow, the colors, the general feeling of good will, but he wasn’t a fan of the biting cold. Not unless he could be home in front of his fireplace with a warm cup of coffee and a good movie.

  “So, are you back for good?” he asked quickening his stride to pull even with her.

  “For the foreseeable future. I ran out of money in Europe, starving artist and all that. Father wouldn’t extend me any more credit. So, now I’m back until I can earn enough money to continue doing what I love.”

  Drew understood that feeling. It was similar to his situation, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever get out of the hotel business now.

  Avery pulled open the door to Chez Cafe, and a friendly wave of warmth rolled out to greet them. A low hum of conversation buzzed around the crowded room. “It might be standing room only in here.”

  “A table will open up,” Avery said with a wave of her hand. “It always does.”

  The line moved quickly and within minutes they were at the front placing their order. “I’ll have an Iced, Half Caff, Ristretto, Venti, 4-Pump, Sugar Free, Cinnamon, Dolce Soy Skinny Latte,” Avery said.

  Drew blinked at her. Her words might have been English, but he had no idea what she had even ordered. Surprisingly though, the barista behind the register just nodded and scribbled something on a cup. As Drew never understood the markings on the cup either, he wondered if the employees had some kind of code for snobby drink orders.

  “And for you?” the woman asked as Avery stepped to the side.

  “Just an Americano with room for cream please.”

  The woman raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing. However, a small smile played across her lips.

  “See? I told you a table would open up.” Avery pointed to a small round table shoved in the far corner. “I’m going to go claim it. You get the drinks, okay?”

  Before he could answer, she had walked off. Drew bit the inside of his lip and nodded ever so slightly. Now, he was beginning to remember why they had broken up. Avery might not be as obsessed with status as some other women, but she was independent and just a little bossy.

  “Here’s your friend’s drink,” the woman said. “Your Americano will be right up.”

  “Thank you.” Drew took Avery’s drink and surreptitiously scanned the barista’s writing. A series of letters that looked more like hieroglyphics than English stared back at him. Before he could ponder it further, the woman handed him his drink, and Drew meandered through the tables to Avery.

  “So,” she said when he sat down, “what happened with the girl from last night?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “I was there remember?” She took a sip of her drink. “You made quite the scene, and you were telling me about this woman you met at your mother’s ball. Was she the one?”

  Drew lifted his own cup and pretended to drink. He wasn’t sure how much he should tell Avery. He didn’t think she would go running to his mother, but it had been years since they were close. Perhaps she had changed in that time. He opted for a diversion. “Did you know we got that poor woman fired?”

  Avery blinked at him. “We did?”

  “Well, someone did. I presume it was my mother, but I suppose it could have been anyone in the room.”

  “And how do you know she was fired?” Avery tilted her head as she regarded him.

  Dang it. He was off his game today. Perhaps he could ge
t away with a half-truth. “I spoke with her, and she informed me.”

  Avery nodded slowly. “Just out of the blue you spoke with this woman? This woman who wasn’t supposed to be at your mother’s ball and works as a caterer?”

  It was clear Avery would not let this go. With a sigh, Drew filled her in. “All right, I sent her flowers and asked her to call me.”

  “You proposed a date?” Avery let out a soft whistle. “I don’t know your mother well, but I can’t imagine she would want you pursuing a caterer.”

  “She’s a full-time teacher.” Drew felt the need to point out Gwen’s qualities though he wasn’t sure why. Avery wouldn’t care who he pursued. “She was catering on the side to earn extra money. At least until she got fired.”

  “Well, that’s,” Avery paused as if searching for the right word, “noble. Teaching, I mean. The world needs good teachers, right?”

  Avery’s words sounded stilted and forced. Drew wondered what she had against teachers. Or was this a snobby bias of hers emerging?

  “Yes, we need good teachers, and I’m sure she is one.”

  Avery sighed. “Drew, what do you even know about this woman?”

  He wanted to tell her he knew a lot, but something gave him pause. Avery didn’t need to know he had dug into Gwen’s background. “I know she isn’t obsessed with money and status like everyone else around us. She’s funny and genuine, and she made me feel alive again.”

  Avery’s stare burned into him. “I get that you don’t want to pursue someone in the elite circle, but I hope you know what you’re doing, Drew.”

  * * *

  Gwen glanced at the clock. It was four already? She was surprised that the time had seemed to fly by and even more surprised that no one had hounded her asking for details on the new boyfriend. Had Tom not said anything then? That seemed unlike him, but maybe he had kept it to himself out of pride. Most of the staff knew of his interest in her. Admitting she was seeing someone else would be like accepting his defeat, and Gwen doubted he had done that.