Billionaires Dollar Series

“Oh, I can imagine.” I nod at one of the sale signs. “You took my advice, too. Again, I might add.”This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

The smile on her face disappears, replaced by the challenging expression I’m used to. “I’d be insane not to accept advice from the most eligible billionaire bachelor in Seattle.”

I groan. “Don’t tell me you read today’s article too.”

“Oh, yes. How could I not? You were on the front page.”

I silently curse Melissa Edwards and my PR team for thinking it was a good idea. She’d taken my words and run with them, and I’d barely recognized the man I read about in the article.

“I was talked into it,” I say. “And in my defense, journalists always exaggerate.”

“So you’re saying you’re not the most eligible bachelor in Seattle? Why, Cole, if you’re not careful you’ll come across humble.”

I give her my trademark smirk. “The title was accurate. It was the content that skewed on the ridiculous.”

“Well, I thought it was very informative,” Skye says, leaning closer. “I hadn’t realized just how ruthless you can be in business.”

The smile on my face freezes as I realize what she’s referring to. The exact passage I’d wanted omitted, about my former business partner and his now-wife. It had ended up in the article anyway, as it always did, because it made for a good story. Cole Porter, asshole extraordinaire.

Seems it had reached Skye too, not that she needed another reason to dislike me. “Ruthless, efficient,” I say. “It’s all just semantics.”

“It was motivational,” she says. “I’ll have to out-ruthless you on this project.”

“Well,” I say, looking around the packed store, “it looks like it’s working. You’re a worthy opponent, I’ll give you that.”

Skye purses her lips. There’s a feverish look in her eyes, and up close, her flushed skin is pronounced. “Is that why you’re here tonight? Corporate espionage? We still have five weeks left to turn this around.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Yes,” she says. “You should have worn a trench coat and a newspaper with holes in it.”

I nod, playing along, but I’m really just looking at her. There are circles under her eyes.

“I’ll think about that for next time. Have you been organizing this on your own?”

She looks across the room again-at the milling guests, Karli entertaining the author, the plate of sandwiches quickly emptying. “No, Karli and I did it together.”

“Hmm. But you made the invitations and flyers, I’m guessing? I appreciated the little addition in the bottom right corner.”

She smiles. “I only added that to your invitation. Not very subtle, I know.”

“Well-played. Have you had anything to drink?”

“No.” She frowns. “We’re not serving alcohol.”

“I mean water. You look a bit… are you okay?”

She pushes her hair back behind her ear. “Yes, I’m great.” A voice across the room calls her name-“Skye!”-and she turns from me. Karli is holding the mic up high. “It’s time!”

I watch as Skye sets up the mic system again and hands Karli a set of questions. As the question and answer sessions starts, she’s off again, clearing off the tray of food and talking quietly to customers throughout the store.

I stay in my corner, out of sight and out of mind, occasionally answering emails on my phone. Skye is in the opposite corner, across the crowd, the both of us boxers preparing to square off. She sways slightly on her feet, and as I watch she reaches up to furtively wipe her forehead. She’s clearly not doing very well.

After the author’s Q&A session is done, Skye heads to the register. The line is long-it curves through nearly the entire store, obviously not equipped for this many people.

“Excuse me,” I say, pushing my way through throngs of people to reach her. She looks like she’s ready to collapse. “Pardon me.”

“Hey!” someone calls. “No cutting in line!”

I raise a hand. “I work here!”

The look Skye sends me is furious. “What are you doing?”

“Let me help.” I nod toward the waiting masses, moving to her left side. “You handle the payment, I’ll pack.”

There’s a pause, infinitesimal, where Skye has to decide between her pride and her need. The latter wins. “Fine,” she murmurs, turning to the next customer with a beaming smile.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” she says.

The man gives her an uncertain smile back. “My pleasure. I’ve walked by this shop a thousand times and never gone in. Can’t imagine why.”

“It’s easy enough to do.”

“Well, that’s changing now.”

I hand him the bag of books. Judging from the weight, he really enjoyed Between the Pages’ new sale. “You’re welcome back any time. Thanks for your support.”

Skye and I work in tandem, her with payment, me packing. Money is flowing into the register-a much-needed boost to the business. And as the line empties out, so does Skye’s small talk. I glance over only to see her hands shake.

“Let me,” I murmur, but she shakes me off. This close it’s clear she has a fever. Stubborn woman.

As the door shuts behind the final customer, Skye slumps against the register. “Wow,” she breathes. “We’ve never had a line before!”

“Having a sale worked”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Yeah, yeah, I know it was technically your idea.”

“That’s not-”

“Skye!” Karli calls, still in the adjoining room together with the author. She hasn’t noticed that I’m here, but she will soon, with the store emptying out. Skye shoots me a conflicted look. Her skin, which had been flushed just an hour ago, is now pallid. “Thanks for helping.”

It’s a clear dismissal, and I know I should leave, but… “You look awful.”

She frowns. “Well, thanks for that too, I suppose.”

“No, you look sick.”

“I might have a cold. I’ll be fine.”