Page 6 of Hello Billionaire

With Shantel and Mia out of the room, it was just Farrah and me and the crisp sound of her pastry as she chewed it.

“This hotel is fabulous, Mr. Griffen,” she said, wiping a crumb from the corner of her full pink lips. “I can’t wait to get started.”

“Great.” I took a sip of my coffee and set it back on the table. “This will be our office for the next three months. Prepare a list of items you’ll need to get started—laptop, printer, et cetera, and send it to Mia. She’ll handle the arrangements.”

“Wait, three months?” she stammered. “What’s our timeline?”

“We need to have the rooms designed and set up for the opening in a year, and I’ve been burned by enough designers to realize I need to take a more hands-on role. At least until you prove your competency.”

She coughed like she was choking on pastry and then gulped down her coffee. “Wait, the hotel’s opening in a year?”

I glanced at my watch. “Eleven months and fourteen days, actually.”

Her eyes bugged out. “With all due respect, that’s highly improbable. Most retailers of the caliber this hotel requires request preorders of up to a year or more of lead time. And then there’s moving all the items in, staging, working with contractors for paint, wallpaper, window treatments...”

I arched an eyebrow. “I hired you because I thought you could get this done. And with three children at home to provide for on your own, I assumed you would do whatever it took. Was I mistaken?”

Her eyes searched me, shocked, nervous.

We hadn’t talked about her children in the interview with me, but I knew.

I knew everything my private investigators could find before hiring anyone to the team.

Farrah Elkins.

Thirty-four years old.

Graduated from Upton University four years after having her first child. Levi Elkins.

Left her husband after multiple counts of infidelity. The divorce was processed by the county a month ago.

The courts awarded her full custody with guaranteed visits for the father every other weekend.

Currently resides with her parents in a three-bedroom, two-bathroom home near Arlington and has for the last month and a half.

She was hungry for a change, and I could feel it in everything about her, from her carefully done curly hair to her returnable black-on-black outfit and sensible heels.

“No, sir,” she said, a determined look in her eyes. “You won’t regret this.”

“I know.” I stood from the table and said, “Let’s get started.”

3

Farrah

“I’m quitting,” I told Mia on my way to pick up Levi from baseball practice. Luckily, my parents had gotten the younger two from school and agreed to watch them until I got off work since Dad’s coffee shop closed at two every day.

“What? Why?” Mia asked over her car’s speaker. I heard her blinker sound in the background of the call.

“HE WANTS TO HAVE THE JOB DONE IN ELEVEN MONTHS!”

The line was quiet, and my eyes widened.

“You knew, didn’t you?” I demanded.

“Well, I—yes, I did. The last two designers royally screwed him over, and it’s left him in a tight spot.”

“I have three kids who just started at a new school, Levi’s doing baseball practice after school, I’m trying to find a house. How am I supposed to do all of that while working on mission impossible?” Her turn signal underscored the panicked beating of my heart.

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