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The following is a sequel of sorts to "John Billionaire". Familiarity with "Billionaire" and its characters will greatly enhance the reading experience of this story, although it is not a requirement.
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-- PROLOGUE --
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It was just an ordinary day when I first saw her.
I stopped off at my usual little smoothie shop on the way into the office. Once I actually got to work, my admin would be bringing me regular doses of coffee caffeine every few hours, stimulating the creative neurons in my brain so that I would have a prayer of doing enough work to fulfill the sky high expectations senior management had of me.
But before getting into the office, I usually cherished the saturated sweetness of strawberry-pineapple, the closest I'd gotten to that Hawaiian vacation I never took enough time to go on. Or maybe the extra sizzle of something with Raspberry in it. And in the past couple of weeks I'd been splurging on the AΓ§ai mixes in the misguided hope that the extra antioxidants might actually improve my health. At least they tasted pretty good.
I noticed her the moment I walked into the shop, the same way any straight man notices the slender body of an in-shape young woman. Her back was to me, but the jeans she wore were tight enough to prove she had a dynamite ass and long legs absent of any cellulite. Above her flared hips was bare skin for a few inches, reaching to a trim waist before the tight baby-T she wore began to outline her upper torso.
I caught the swells of rather full bosom, which jiggled as she laughed musically from the cashier trying to flirt with her.
She paid for her order and then turned about to step away and let me place my own order. But when I caught her face, I just went rigidly still.
She was perfect. She had an exquisitely chiseled face with a perfect nose and ideal bone structure. Her creamy white skin was perfectly clear and she had a youth about her that made me think she might still be a teenager. Her electric green eyes sparkled and her fine blonde hair was perfectly done to complement her outstanding facial features. Her body was svelte and yet she had big, round breasts sitting high on her chest. And as I looked upon her beauty, lightning bolts shot up my spine as my tongue twisted in knots.
The blonde simply looked at me with mixed curiosity and amusement. She was probably used to seeing men completely fall apart at the mere sight of her, and her vermillion eyes danced with an internal laughter.
"Hey man, you gonna order?" The guy behind me poked me in the back hard enough to bruise. Typical New Yorker.
I blinked several times and then, embarrassed, I stepped forward hurriedly and gave my order to the grinning cashier. And when I was done and stepped to the side myself, I couldn't help but keep glancing at her every five seconds or so. Just when I thought I had her perfectly memorized, I had to peek again.
She never looked at me once, but I'm sure I was in her peripheral vision and a little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth while she waited.
And then one of the smoothie makers dropped a standard 24-ounce styrofoam cup onto the counter and called, "Kaitlyn!"
Immediately, the blonde stepped forward and scooped up her smoothie and then turned around to leave.
But at the last moment, I swear she winked at me.
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-- CHAPTER 1: Booty Call --
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*MONDAY*
"Taylor Brynn? As in the Taylor Brynn engaged to Jonathan Kwong?"
Melody nodded and I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Taylor Brynn had been one of the top international models known for her gorgeous blue eyes and her anatomically impossible body that put Heidi Klum to shame. I'd been in the middle of High School when she burst onto the modeling scene at eighteen. From then through college, the walls of my bedroom had been adorned with posters of her as well as more than a few of my own personal sketches.
And now the goddess herself was on the phone.
Melody, my assistant, looked at me through the plate glass wall separating my office from her desk and arched a nicely sculpted eyebrow. Her cute voice came through the speakerphone, "Should I transfer the call?"
"Uh... uh, yeah," I managed to stutter, still in shell-shock.
Seconds later, my phone rang and I gingerly picked up the headset, hooking it over my ear. "Hello?"
Instantly I grimaced, hearing the squeak in my voice and realizing that hadn't been a very professional greeting. I'd spoken with corporate CEOs and low-level International Royalty without feeling nearly this nervous.
"Is this Jeffrey Lee?" Her voice was cool, confident, and so unbelievably sexy.
"Yes..." My answer was the one word and monotonous. Dammit! Say something cool!
"Jeffrey Lee, the architect who designed the Pieterzoon estate in East Hampton?"
"Yes..." Still not cool.
I could hear the purr in Taylor's voice. "My fiancΓ© has recently purchased some property in Montauk and we would like you to build our house."
"Uh, uh... I'd... I'd be delighted Miss Brynn."
"Please call me Taylor. I WON'T ask you again."
"Yes, of course, Taylor. I am at your convenience. When would you like to meet?"
"Would this afternoon be too soon?"
I frantically clicked through the programs on my laptop, trying to get to my calendar. Accidentally, I managed to close my calendar program entirely and silently cursed myself. "Uh... well..." I stalled. "How about three o'clock?"