Their Secret Deal: The Reclusive Multimillionaire, #1

Chapter One

ERIN KELLY’S HEART beat rapidly. Despite sitting alone in a large and empty room with the air conditioner on full blast, her hands were clammy. This was it. She had to make it happen. This would be her last opportunity to talk to this reclusive angel, Mark Eastbrook. Although there was nothing remotely angelic about the way he tersely answered the audience’s questions during the seminar. He was ruthless and unapologetic when rejecting prospective businesses that were unsuitable to his line of investment. Damn, her best friend, Justine, believed the job of approaching and talking to him was as easy as Sunday morning.

She’d stayed overnight at Justine’s apartment in order to attend his two-day business seminar. The first day of the seminar was packed with people due to many investors, or angels, who attended to listen to the various business pitches. She tried to approach him so she could speak to him face-to-face, but he was mobbed by so many people she couldn’t get a chance to wiggle between them.

Today, it seemed as if she might be presented with the opportunity she was hoping for. She had done comprehensive research about him as a person and his business’s operation. In fact, for the past three months, she spent much time learning about what his venture capitalist business the Eastbrook Investment firm was all about. During this time, she contacted his personal secretary, Lindsey, many times, and eventually they became so comfortable with each other they ended up becoming good friends.

Lindsey said his primary interest was in technology and software, as Erin had already known through her research. This meant her chances of explaining further about the hospitality business were practically zero.

Lindsey couldn’t guarantee that the information she provided would be of any help, but she encouraged Erin to try anyway. It wouldn’t hurt, she had added. Then she complained about Mark’s stubbornness and how much of a workaholic he was. He was a cantankerous and difficult person to work with. She wished someone would whisk him away from the office for a while. According to Lindsey, her boss needed to take some serious vacation time. Without missing a beat, Erin said she would make the ideal person to kidnap him for at least a weekend. To that, Lindsey responded, I wish you the very best, dear….

So, she had come up with this strategy because the Norfolk Inn would make the perfect place for his much needed rest and relaxation.

Yes, Ms. Kelly. Do you have any questions? It seems to me you’ve been waiting since yesterday, no?

The deep voice woke her up from her reverie. She looked at the door, and there he was, leaning against the panel with both hands inside his jeans pockets. A strong gaze from his deep-set eyes pinned her to the chair. What was more, he remembered her name. He had also noticed that she had actually tried to meet him yesterday. He was too perceptive.

She wiped her damp hands on her black rayon slacks and walked over to him. Together they moved toward the front desk where his papers covered the space. When she stood in front of him, she could see his bloodshot, bleary, blue eyes and slightly tousled brown hair. She hesitated, but it was too late to back out. Maybe I’m crazy for what I’m about to say to you, Mr. Eastbrook.

Let me decide whether that is or isn’t. Call me Mark. So, what can I do for you? he said, perching on the edge of the table. His muscular thighs, clad in stonewashed jeans, only added to his masculinity. His broad shoulders stretched the white shirt he wore. Looking at her expectantly, he pushed the sleeves all the way to his elbows, revealing tan, muscular arms.

She wanted to kill Justine after this. At the time, when she had suggested the idea of approaching Mark, it seemed like fun. But now she dreaded it. The humiliation was too great to bear, even if he hadn’t come out and rejected her. But what the heck. Here it was. I want you to be my business mentor. Just for the weekend, she said. The notebook in her arms was on her chest, covering the wild and frantic beat of her heart.

He blinked and gave her a double take. I guess you’re right. That’s crazy. What’s it that you’re in again…the hospitality business?

Erin was amazed at his sharp memory. She had briefly mentioned the business, which actually belonged to her Aunt Lucy, yesterday during the introductory session. Despite her fear of rejection, her respect for him cranked up a notch.

I’m sorry, Ms. Kelly—

Erin.

Erin, I don’t think I can mentor you.

Although she wasn’t surprised at his reply, it still stung. But she couldn’t accept no for an answer. She desperately needed something positive. Not a real mentor. Just a pretend one. For this weekend. Please?

He stared at her. You’re kidding, right?

No. I’m serious. My Aunt Lucy wants to sell the Norfolk Inn to her competitor this weekend. Today is Friday. I have less than seventy-two hours to convince her that she’ll make a severe mistake if she does. I’ve tried to talk her out of it, but she won’t budge, she said, panting. She knew this was too much to ask from him, but his name and prestige would help Lucy heed her plea.

Mark crossed his arms over his chest. Why me?

Erin heaved a sigh of relief. She didn’t blame him for acting aloof as if to protect himself. Because you need a vacation. You haven’t taken a break in two years, she said, noticing she was out of breath. I’ll tell Lucy you’ve been mentoring me for six months. With your presence, I can convince her that the decision to sell the inn to a nearby competitor is a bad move. She’ll listen.

Mark’s raised his eyebrows, and his right hand covered his chin. How…how do you know I’m in a dire need of a vacation?

Erin’s shoulders were relaxed now. His body language convinced her that she had hit upon the right spot. She wanted to kiss Lindsey. Well, I saw you yesterday, and you looked tired. You still are right now, what with the bloodshot eyes and all. She prayed he would agree. I know businessmen like you prefer places like the Hamptons, the Caribbean, or Europe for a break. But in Vermont, you can be at ease. You’re free from the media and anyone who is out hunting for an angel.

He studied her as if the net worth presented in front of him was inflated. Gathering his papers on the table, he said, I can’t help you, Ms. Kelly. Erin.

Oh no, he still didn’t buy it. She panicked. I promise, you’ll like your stay at the Norfolk Inn. You’ll get plenty of rest in this serene place. Plus, I’ll make sure nobody can find you there.

He stood and slid a pile of papers into a briefcase before zipping it shut. He was preparing to leave.

She lowered the notebook to her side, knowing the opportunity was rapidly slipping away. Oh well, at least she’d tried. She should have patted herself on the shoulder for the courage to approach a multi-millionaire angel and ask him to pretend to be her mentor. Maybe she should ask him to be her real mentor. But she knew it would be an automatic failure right from the start. There was no way he wanted to invest his money in a hospitality venture. Plus, who was she to him, anyway?

She bit her lower lip. This was her last resort to put a stop to Aunt Lucy’s plan. She had already done much, yet she’d failed to persuade her. Giving up on the inn was the last thing on her mind. And learning who the potential buyer was only made her blood pressure increase. This made her even more determined to stop the transaction from taking place. When she looked at him, Mark was watching her carefully before he exhaled.

He broke the silence and asked, Where, exactly, is this Norfolk Inn?

Erin widened her eyes. In rural Vermont. Stowe, to be exact. Does this mean you’ll do it?

No. But perhaps you can persuade me after my stomach is full. I’m starving.

Erin lifted her arm to take a look at her watch. Eight o’clock at night. Oh! I’m sorry. I’m so nervous, I didn’t realize I took up so much of your time. Did he just invite her to have dinner with him? What about his entourage? Didn’t his people take care of these things?

As if he understood her concern, he said, Don’t worry, it’s just us. Let’s continue talking over dinner. He pointed his head to the door to encourage her to follow him.

She nodded.

***

MARK COULDN’T BELIEVE he fell for this woman’s ploy. In the course of his job, he received so many proposals; many of them had nothing to do with investing. This was one of them, and yet he agreed to continue the conversation. What was wrong with him? Perhaps the need for a vacation that he had avoided for the past two years had finally roped and caged him. His body and mind could no longer deny a need for a break. But perhaps the honesty and vulnerability that shone through her beautiful eyes relaxed him, allowing him to think that she was actually in need of a mentor.

He noticed her right away on the first day of his seminar. The room was crowded, and yet she stood out like a sore thumb. The youngest in the audience dominated by males, she looked so out of place. How old was she exactly? Seemed like she was barely older than a college senior. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was a junior. But if she was that young, what was she doing in his seminar? Shouldn’t she be in college right now? Then he remembered the summer season had just begun. He sighed. That was when he realized a vacation was past due.

He shook his head. The look on her face when he declined her scheme was pathetic. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from inviting her to dinner. Now who was the pathetic one? But he had to admit that, although what she sought from him didn’t make any sense, his curiosity was peaked. That and the fact that she thought he needed a vacation. He just didn’t understand how she found out about that. Had they meet before? If so, where?

They chose a tavern-style bar in the North End in Boston, not far from his hotel near the waterfront. The setting was cozy and quiet. Erin seemed comfortable, and they ordered their food. When he asked her what type of wine she preferred, she shook her head. I’m driving home, tonight. Thank you, though.

To Vermont? he asked.

She shrugged. It’s not that far.

He watched her over the rim of his fluted glass. Under the dim lighting, she was strikingly beautiful. A strand of hair fell on her face, making him wanted to tuck it behind her ear. This wasn’t a good idea. He chided himself for allowing his mind to stray. She was nothing but a troublemaker. However, what confused him about Erin’s scheme was that it wasn’t about making an investment or anything that involved using his money. But to be a fake mentor?

Still, he couldn’t let his guard down. I don’t recommend it. You can always drive in the morning. Driving late at night wasn’t safe at all. He would never allow anyone to drive alone. He learned that it was hazardous because Eric, one of his top managers in the firm, was murdered when he stopped along the highway at midnight to help a stranded motorist. He had been with Eric at the hotel bar in Manhattan that fateful night, and he regretted not stopping him from leaving. He still carried the guilt with him. And that was two years ago. Now he was presented with a similar situation. But why should he care? Because, Mark Eastbrook, this woman has been waiting all this time—in fact, for two days—to talk to you. She could have just left after the seminar was over, but she’s determined to get what she wants, even if that means she’ll have to drive home alone all the way to Vermont late at night. Time to redeem yourself. His conscience told him to get a grip.

She knitted her eyebrows a second, then smiled. I have to help my Aunt Lucy at the inn.

Her answer didn’t surprise him. In fact, he’d expected it. And yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off her face. The dimple on both sides of her cheeks winked at him. Okay, be honest with me. How do you know I need a vacation? I don’t buy what you told me earlier.

She chewed her food slowly. Reaching for her water glass, she said, I told you the truth. Like typical businessmen, you work so hard. You need to get away for a while. When I saw you yesterday, I believed that you’re the right person to help me. You don’t tolerate nonsense. You don’t sugarcoat your words when you say you’re not interested in investing in a business you think doesn’t give you the profit you’re looking for. Plus, you’re single and you’re not my type.

Her explanation punched him right in the gut. Now that’s a nice way to sum it all up about me. He threw his head back and laughed. She was so funny. No women had ever told him that he wasn’t their type. Also, the way she said it, as if he was a greedy businessman? She put him right in his place. This was something so refreshing. He’d never laughed so hard and for so long, since he was in his teens. At just twenty-eight, he missed being that kid and having the freedom to do something without any cares in the world. The way Erin told him was so liberating, as if she didn’t care what he was thinking. And what is your type? Mind you tell me?

Someone who is romantic, loves me for who I am, and at the same time will give me space to pursue my own interests.

So, you think I’m not a romantic type? The alcohol had definitely reached his head. He didn’t like it. I’m just kidding. Don’t answer that. Okay, back to the real question. Tell me again, why should I help you in this scam of yours? How did I suddenly become qualified?

The waitress brought dessert to their table. He took the spoon and gave it to her. Their hands brushed, and a flicker of shyness reached her cheeks. She blushed.

It’s not a scam. I just want you to show up next to me when I introduce you to my aunt. Then I’ll tell her that you agree with my opinion about the inn. See how easy it is? Instead of selling the inn, she needs to upgrade her marketing strategy and update the software to bring the administration up to date. And I can help her to do that.

Mark put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. Looks like she doesn’t trust you. Am I right?

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