Billion Dollar Beast - Olivia Hayle Page 0,5

the sunlight. Both equally fiery and all-consuming.

And then she’d been gone in a flurry of silky fabric and flowing hair, back to her harem of low-tier socialites and fans.

I shake my head at my own thoughts. Blair Porter has already occupied too much of my time today. It’s time to focus on the far easier task at hand—and that’s turning a failing clothing giant around enough so that I can butcher it profitably.

When I arrive at one of Cole’s properties in the evening, he’s already waiting for me by the tennis courts. In his white shorts and T-shirt, he looks pristine, every inch the golden-boy billionaire he is. He hates it when I call him a blue blood, but that’s exactly what he looks like. The Porters were rich long before he began building his empire.

“Hey,” he says, lobbying a tennis ball hard at my chest. I catch it before it makes contact. “I heard you ran into Blair at the wedding last weekend.”

Had she tattled to her brother? A pang of disappointment hits me. She usually kept our banter private.

“I did.”

I take my place at the baseline and Cole is forced to raise his voice. “And you both made it out alive?”

“Evidently.” I call back, tossing the ball high and serving, ignoring the fact that he’s not in the right spot. He handles it deftly and for the coming minutes there’s nothing but the sound of tennis balls against racquets and the thrill of the game. I lose myself in the fight, as I so often did when I was young, surrendering to the pumping of blood and adrenaline.

Cole might come from different stock—he has a background of athletic competitions and trophies—but the thrill of the hunt is the same.

We’re well-matched, have been after playing so many times together over the years. By the time we’re done, we’re panting, chugging from our water bottles.

“Damn,” he says finally. “Have you been practicing with an Olympian while I was away? Your slices are deadly.”

I grin at him. “I had a good morning.”

He braces himself against the edge of the net. Sweat glistens on his skin; I’m sure I look much the same. “Did you close the deal, then?”

“I just did, yeah.”

His face lights up into a smile, and for a moment it’s uncomfortably similar to Blair’s—not that she’s ever smiled at me like that. “Hell yes. Well done, man!”

“Took me long enough.”

“Can you finally tell me which company it is? I need to know where to shop one last time.”

“B.C. Adams.”

His smile fades. “Shit. Really?”

“Yeah.”

“That chain is massive. And failing. People have been placing bets on how long it’ll stay afloat.”

“Well, a little bit longer at least. I need to squeeze out a profit from it first.”

Cole runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he says again. “A clothing chain. They must have massive stores of inventory.”

“I’m betting on that, yeah.”

“And you need to flip it fast to pay the overhead. Do you know anything about retail?”

Uncomfortable though it is to admit, I answer him truthfully. “No. But I’ll hire people who do.”

He bends down to tie his shoelaces. The wedding band on his left hand shines golden in the sunlight. The man had become near insufferable with happiness after his wedding to Skye. “Hire Blair,” he suggests. “She knows fashion.”

I stare down at him. “What?”

“She studied business and fashion. She had that fashion brand a few years back, remember?”

Yes, I do, and the memory isn’t a good one. She’d launched a collection at twenty-three that had crashed and burned not two years later. Not exactly a ringing endorsement.

But even if that wasn’t the case—even if she was the most qualified person on the planet—there’s no way she’d work with me.

“I remember,” I say. “But…”

“But what?” Cole meets my gaze baldly. I know he won’t accept a bad word about Blair. I’m on thin ice, and for the first time in a long while, I can feel the danger. Cole gives me a lot of leeway, sure, but absolutely none when it comes to his family.

But then it hits me.

There’s no way she’d agree.

“It’s a good idea,” I say. “You’re right, she knows the industry. I could hire her as a consultant.”

Cole’s shoulders relax. “It would be good for her. For you both, I’m sure. Who knows, maybe you can both finally learn how to get along?”

I nod, though my agreement is an absolute lie.

It sounds like a nightmare.

“I’ll ask her,” Cole continues. “I’m seeing her later.”

“Good.” I swing my bag