The Billionaire’s Christmas Fiancée (Christmas with the Denton Billionaires Book 1) Page 11

  “Yeah, that’s part of the problem,” Rose said with a grimace. Mitch swiped through his phone, multi-tasking as usual. He pulled up the weather app while she spoke. “The head planner was supposed to be here for your one o’clock, but I’ve just received word that she quit.”

  Mitch blinked, her news hitting him just as awkwardly as the weather report in front of his eyes. There was a huge snowstorm rolling in, which the sunny but cold day outside hardly betrayed. “What?”

  “One of her assistants just showed up to break the news. Apparently there was some sort of family emergency, and—”

  “Send her in.” Mitch cleared his throat, tapping his pen against the desk. He didn’t have time to quibble over details. He just had to keep moving on the planning, and stat. He helped with the planning every year—after all, the famous Christmas bash needed a personal Denton touch. But this year? It needed more than a touch. It needed a sensual caress. He wouldn’t let this sudden setback be the reason the bash wasn’t better than ever.

  Rose sidled out of the office, and a moment later she reappeared with a woman in tow. This had to be the event planning assistant, but it took Mitch a moment to remember who was joining him and why. The curvy brunette entering his office stole his breath and his thoughts. His pen paused mid-tap as he took her in. There were normal things about her: the smart button-down tucked into high-waisted black pants and the professional and almost plastic smile that he recognized too well in his line of work. But there was something about her face. The sharp nose and the high cheekbones that would have caught his eye in the middle of Times Square on New Year’s Eve.

  “This is Jules Cardwell,” Rose said, but her voice sounded a million miles away. Mitch pushed to standing without even realizing, his hand shooting out to grip Jules’s. He’d been in a million business deals before and had perfected the art of not showing that his feathers were ruffled. Good thing, too, because his heart thumped a mile a minute in front of this woman.

  “Great to meet you.” He held her gaze for maybe a second too long.

  Jules narrowed her eyes slightly as she shook his hand. Like she was on to him. “Likewise.”

  “Let’s hear about the sudden change of plans,” Mitch said, clearing his throat again. Rose excused herself, leaving the two of them alone in his spacious office. As Jules took her seat, Mitch forced himself to focus on anything other than her perfectly profiled nose or heart-shaped face. Had she always worked with the event planning team? He certainly didn’t remember this woman wandering the halls in years past.

  “Well, as your secretary probably mentioned, my boss took an unexpected…leave of absence.” Jules wet her perfectly pink and plump bottom lip before continuing. “Since I was the assistant planner at Big Apple Events, it was decided that I would take her place for her current projects. I’ve assisted on previous Denton events, so I’m already well-versed in your brand.”

  Mitch sighed, leaning back into his chair. “But we’d been working with Rhonda for years.”

  “I know. A family emergency has her tied up for the time being. I’m not even sure if she’ll be returning.”

  Mitch tapped his pen against the desk again, his father’s text coming back to mind. “We need this party to be the biggest and the best it’s ever been. There’s a lot riding on that this year. There will be pressure. Are you prepared to handle that?”

  Jules didn’t even flinch. “Of course. I’ve assisted on events all around the city, with many well-known names and even larger businesses. I have full confidence that I’ll be able to pull this off as well as Rhonda would.” She flashed a smile, and then reached down for the briefcase she’d brought in with her. “I brought along some concepts for the display this year—just preliminary stuff, as a launch pad for refining the ideas further. Rhonda had already set some things in motion, like the Children of the World event, where she already placed a big order for the toys. But some things, it looks like she didn’t make much progress at all.”

  Mitch watched with interest as Jules slid out some papers. Every slender finger held a ring of some sort, whether big and gaudy or skinny and silver. He realized he had been staring at the graceful movements of her hands during her entire spiel about the party.

  “To celebrate all the different ways people celebrate Christmas,” she went on. “You know—to make it a really inclusive event. Something that people walk away from with a ‘wow’ sensation, probably even tell their friends and family about afterward. If they haven’t been live streaming the whole thing already.”

  Mitch hefted with a laugh. “I can tell you’ve been doing some preparing already.” He was impressed as much by the words coming out of her mouth as the heavy curve under her blouse. Mitch knew what he liked, and it was this type of gorgeous—articulate, brunette, and curvy. “But you should know, this party is no easy feat. I was expecting to meet with the old planner today and have her tell me that half the prep work was done already.”

  Jules nibbled on her bottom lip. “Right. Maybe we can do a walk-through together of the space to make sure we’re on the same page. Then I can go into overdrive to get caught up and on schedule.”

  Mitch nodded, doubt flickering through him. As pretty as she was, Jules was an untested event planner.

  He didn’t just need someone good—he needed someone to work magic.

  This party would serve as the backdrop to him taking over the company, and it needed to be perfect.

  Grab your copy of The Billionaire’s Sudden Christmas Baby

  Available December 12, 2019

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  BLURB

  It’s the Christmas season in the tiny Kingdom of Maatkare, and the royal family needs a chef. Desperate to prove herself after her first restaurant failed, Ana Rizzo jumps at this chance for redemption and nabs the high-paying, short-term job. The opportunity couldn’t be more perfect. Ana will be able to stretch her culinary skills, earn enough money to open another restaurant, and still be able to give her adopted daughter the attention she needs. Her biggest challenge will be winning over the family’s elderly cook and getting Noel Yared, the middle son, to give her food his stamp of approval. She only cares about Noel’s palate, not his soulful brown eyes, his gorgeous runner’s body, and his amazing kisses. An avid runner herself, Ana pushes herself to keep up with Noel during their daily runs. But she’s finding the biggest challenge is resisting Noel’s charm.

  Noel finds Ana endlessly fascinating and incredibly sexy. With a bit of charming persuasion from him, the two begin what they both know is a short-term affair. No rules, no heartache, just great sex and a bit of fun. So when he believes Ana has betrayed his family’s trust, he’s glad his heart wasn’t involved. Glad she’s gone. Glad he’ll never see her again. Until he realizes a couple terrible truths too late: Ana was actually the one who was betrayed, and somehow he’s fallen hard for her. Now he needs a bit of Christmas magic to prove he’s worthy of her love.

  Grab your copy of The Sheikh’s Christmas Fling (Christmas With the Yared Sheikhs Book 1) from

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  EXCERPT

  Ana hiked her daughter higher up on her hip, wiping away a few strands of chocolate brown hair that had slipped out from her headband. This was their first full day in the palace, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to navigate without a full color map.

  “This place,” she hissed as a palace servant led her and Charlie, her best friend and sous chef, from their wing toward the kitchen, “is bigger than the state of Montana.”

  Charlie snorted. They’d been friends for over ten years, practically long-lost siblings. And if she was going to take anyone on this crazy trip halfway around the world to start a new job as head chef at a palace in a tiny Christian country just a month and a half before Christmas, it was him.

  Linh kicked her legs, clocking the back of Ana’s thighs. She inhaled sharply. “Linh, baby. Not now. Mommy is trying to navigate.”

  “This is kitchen,�
�� the servant said, pushing open a swinging door. A gust of cool air billowed out. Ana grinned, catching sight of the interior.

  “Well look what we have here.” She breezed inside, hiking Linh higher on her hip one more time. The three-year-old was heavier by the week and liked to be held more than Ana’s body could always physically manage. But she couldn’t blame the girl—Ana worked a lot. And with all the recent travel and upheaval in living situations, she wasn’t sure her daughter would detach herself anytime soon from her hip.

  Inside the kitchen, everything gleamed stainless steel and spacious. This was the type of kitchen she’d only ever fantasized about. Enough deep sinks to wash a thousand pounds of potatoes. Wide aisles between work stations, so no hips or butts would knock together.

  And the pans. Oh heavens, the pans. Skillets and sauté pans hung from steel hooks above a center marble island. She ran a finger over the cool edge of a skillet. Charlie whistled low.

  “Looks like we stepped into paradise,” he murmured.

  “You got that right.” Ana smiled at the servant. “Thank you for your help. We’ll be in here for a while. Can you make sure nobody bothers us?” This was part of her process. Isolation in her work space. Enough time to get acquainted with the nooks and crannies of the space that would become her colleague. The palace had a smaller kitchen for prepping daily meals. This one was for the occasions: the banquets and feasts and state dinners. And it was all hers.

  The servant bowed slightly and took his leave. Once the kitchen door clanged shut, Ana and Charlie grinned at each other.

  “Can you believe this?” Ana drew a deep breath as Linh wriggled in her arms to be let down. She slid to the ground and headed toward a cabinet nearby. “Even Linh likes it.”

  “And that’s the deciding factor, isn’t it?” Charlie smiled, ruffling Linh’s jet-black hair. Linh grunted as she tugged at the cabinet door, revealing an entire stock of rubber spatulas. She plopped down on the ground and began pulling them out, one by one.

  “I think this was the right choice.” Ana’s words rang hollow to her ears, even though she’d tried to insert all the conviction she wished she felt. Truth was, she didn’t know what the right choice was anymore. “I’ve been looking for a challenge, you know?”

  Charlie lifted a brow as he strolled down the line of work stations. “A challenge? Or an escape after He Who Will Not Be Named?”

  Ana fought to keep her face neutral. Of course Charlie was right. After her ex, Reggie, drove their joint restaurant into the ground in LA, a spectacle worthy of newspaper editorials and even a brief stint as a trending hashtag, Ana had been struggling to find her balance again.

  “What better way to disconnect than four thousand miles of distance?” She forced a smile. “Even better if it’s with an all-consuming job that might very well make me go gray at age thirty.”

  “That would happen anyway, with the type of kitchens you tend to create,” Charlie cracked.

  Ana rolled her eyes, but she didn’t argue with him. She was an exacting professional. Beyond that, she was a trained chef, and she wanted to own her own restaurant again. But before the latter could occur, she needed financial stability.

  Maatkare was her ticket to debt freedom and investment money toward her next business endeavor. All she had to do was make it through to the other side. Forty-three days of elaborate vegan meals in the name of Christmas.

  Piece of vegan cake.

  Except vegan cake usually sucked.

  “Well this needs to be good, Charlie.” Ana sent him a warning look. “I can’t handle another failure. Not after what happened with the restaurant.” She drew a shaky breath, trying to imagine this expansive kitchen filled with waitstaff and cooks. “I need this to go off without a hitch.”

  “Trust me, it will.” Charlie paused to peer underneath a cutting board embedded in a stainless-steel countertop. “You’ve worked in New York. Tokyo. Seoul. Los Angeles. Your restaurant earned a Michelin star before Jerkwad started stealing cash. You’ll pick up the pieces and build something even better.”

  Ana let his words percolate inside her for a few moments until a crash echoed through the kitchen. She rushed toward Linh. Her dark eyes were wide with a toppled jar beside her. Enough spatulas to fill a flea market surrounded her.

  “Oh, honey.” Ana laughed, getting down on her knees. “I forgot. It’s sleepy time for you.”

  Charlie tutted, his voice distant from across the kitchen. “That’s right. It’s almost nine p.m. back home.”

  “This time difference is killer.” Ana returned all the spatulas, then shut the cabinet door. “I’ll put her down for a quick nap. She’ll adjust sooner or later, right?”

  “I hope so, for your sake,” Charlie said.

  Ana scooped Linh into her arms, heading out of the kitchen and back toward their rooms. Scents of gardenia and jasmine reached her as she curved through the hallways. Columns spiraled upward, supporting arching ceilings that were lined with ivy.

  This whole place was a paradise, not just the kitchen. So why couldn’t she get more into it? Linh kicked and fussed at her side, starting a wailing chant of “Nooo, nooo.” Her daughter had no idea how far from home they’d gone; nor could she understand why Daddy didn’t come around anymore, nor would he.

  Reggie had bolted from the restaurant—and from his daughter’s life. Even though they’d spent fifty thousand dollars and a full year of their married life together working to bring Linh from Vietnam, it wasn’t enough to make him commit.

  Ana’s mind wandered, despite the gauzy scent of flowers and the spacious, elegant surroundings. She found herself back at the same question, despite having rationalized it a million times: What am I doing?

  Whatever it was, it needed to be the right thing. If she’d traveled four thousand miles with her toddler and best friend only for this to go up in flames, then maybe she’d just give up on life. Failed marriage, failed relationship, failed restaurant. Maybe life was giving her a hint.

  The bedroom she’d been assigned was larger than her former apartment in LA. There was a sitting area next to a walk-in closet. A four-poster bed was the prominent center piece, and an elaborate wardrobe carved out of acacia had miniature elephant heads for adornment. Every single aspect of this place was thoughtful, decorative, beautiful.

  She should be enjoying it fully, but all she could do was think about Mirage, her failed restaurant. Wonder if the LA food scene would welcome her back with open arms. If any of her old clients would trust her again. If investors would just laugh her out of the game. If food critics would be harsher this time, or maybe, blessedly, more lenient.

  This time change had nothing on her anxiety-related insomnia. She’d adapted in a heartbeat, only because she was barely sleeping anymore.

  Linh went down surprisingly easy and was snoozing with a stuffed whale in her arms within minutes. Ana called the number she’d been given for the nanny the palace had arranged for her, then as a backup rigged up the baby monitor and clipped the speaker to the loop of her jean shorts. She was back in the kitchen moments later. Charlie had already removed some ingredients from an industrial stainless-steel refrigerator.

  “Found tofu and what may or may not be chard,” he said without looking at her. He rustled through the fridge again. “And I think this is ketchup.”

  “Okay. That’s a good start.” She sighed, flits of possible menus streaking through her mind. She could make magic happen with tofu and ketchup and a few other things. “Let’s see what else there is.”

  She and Charlie rummaged through all the cabinets and fridges in the kitchen. After a thorough search, she had enough to get a test kitchen going. And that’s what she needed more than anything. Get the stove cooking. See how things tasted on this side of the world.

  “Okay. Give me thirty?” She lifted a brow at Charlie. He’d know what this was about. She needed her time and space to think. To create. To adjust.

  “Sure thing. I’ll probably go take a nap myse
lf.” He wiped his hands on a towel, then squeezed her shoulder on his way out. Once the door clanged shut behind him, she got to work.

  A drizzle of sunflower oil followed by all those bright greens in a sauté pan. She sliced up some garlic, added that to the mix. While the aromas were mingling, she flitted toward the tofu. Better marinate that. She whipped up a quick ketchup-infused marinade, then returned to the greens. They’d make an excellent filling…like for fatayer. Tiny spinach pies. She grabbed for the flour and got to work creating a dough.

  Ana worked without a sense of time. That was when all her purest creations came out…and when the most stress relief occurred. When she glanced up and saw a tall man approaching her counter, she gasped and stepped back.

  “Jeez. You scared me!” She blinked rapidly, wanting to push the hair out of her eyes but not with dough-covered hands. She tossed her head. The hair moved only slightly, yet it afforded her a clearer view of the surprise visitor.

  Tall, dark, and handsome, with hooded eyes and short, neatly cropped black hair. But those onyx eyes couldn’t hide his suspicion. He looked like maybe he was considering calling someone to report her.

  “Is breakfast ready?”

  She straightened her back. She didn’t like his tone or the insinuation behind the tone. She wasn’t his mommy. She was an esteemed chef.

  “Uh, no. And it won’t be, not from me at least. I’m not in charge of today’s breakfast.” She turned back to her dough, feeling her cheeks heat up while his intense gaze continued. He stepped closer.

  “Then do you mind if I eat what you’re making?”

  She huffed, sending him a flat look. “Look, dude, I am working.”

  A slow grin crossed his face, and that was the first inkling she got that this guy might be messing with her. “I don’t care. I want it.”

  She pursed her lips, studying him for a moment. He was too good looking, and that sent her off kilter. The palace had too many people in it. Who even was this guy? He needed to go back to the sexy man cave he’d come from.