Billionaires Dollar Series

“Yes. You’ve also cursed it, pretty frequently.” Like when I protested about the obscene amounts of money he spends on me. Dinners, excursions, a few beautiful dresses…

Cole winks at me. “Whatever I say, don’t stop. I love it.”

My insides warm. I love it, he’d said, but my mind is already racing ahead. To the day we’ll say those three little words to each other. I know we’re not there yet, but it’s been dancing on the tip of my tongue for days, the feeling overwhelming. It won’t be long.

“Come on now,” he says. “I want to see you swim.”

So I push off and follow him across the deep.

Epilogue

Cole, a year and a half later

Skye smiles and pushes back her hair, accepting the huge bouquet given to her. “Thank you,” she says, though I’m too far away to hear the words. I’m familiar enough with her lips to read them without effort.

She’s wearing the floral dress I’d bought her. I’d seen it walking by a high-end store and picked it up without much fuss-simply because I wanted to see it on her. I’d known the silken fabric would look amazing on her, and I’d been right. It shines in the low bookstore lighting.

Skye had argued against the purchase, of course, as she so often does. You can’t spend this kind of money on me, Cole.NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

It’s taken me a lot of effort to meet those arguments with logic and understanding. Now, nearly two years into our relationship, she’s much better at accepting it. I have more money than I would need if I lived a hundred lifetimes. A nice restaurant for dinner makes the both of us happy; a beautiful gift is something I enjoy getting for her. The point of working so hard, after all, has always been to one day enjoy the fruits of that labor. And there’s no one I want to enjoy it with more than her.

Karli breaks me out of my musings, stopping at my side. “She’s earned this,” she says, both of us watching as someone asks Skye to sign a book. The pride in her voice echoes mine.

“She certainly has,” I say warmly.

“The renovation of Between the Pages turned out beautifully,” she says softly. “I never doubted you, nor Skye. And still… this is better than my wildest dreams.” She sweeps an arm out at the expanded space. More little nooks and crannies have been added. Nearly every section has been enlarged. And yet, the original structure and the old-fashioned charm is intact. The old spiral staircase remains, and in the corner stands a ratty armchair. Antique beams have been installed, and books surround us like trees in a forest.

“I’m glad you approve,” I say smoothly. “And you know you’re welcome to take back the operational role if you ever want it.”

Karli gives a little laugh. “Thank you. I appreciate it, but I doubt that. I’m enjoying my new job too much.”

“Good,” I say. “Because you’re about to get busy.”

“I am?”

“My company regularly has meetings and events where we need baked goods. I gave the name of your new bakery to my head of planning. Expect a call this week.”

Karli’s eyes widen. “Cole, I couldn’t ask that of you. It’s too much.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. Besides,” I say with a wink, “Skye has brought me some of your cupcakes. I’m doing my own employees a favor here.”

Karli swallows. “Thanks.”

“No, I have to. And thank you for this,” she says in a low voice. “For the bookstore, for Skye… for making her happy. For all of it.”

“I won’t say you’re welcome to that,” I say firmly. “Not when it’s so clearly benefitted me too.”

“Right,” Karli notes. “The hotel.”

But that’s not what I’d meant at all. “No, although that too. I meant Skye.”

“You’re good for each other,” she says. “Will you excuse me for a moment? I want to check on the caterers. I think I just saw a tray of unpowdered beignets being served…”

I can’t help smiling. “Of course, go ahead.”

“Thanks…” She’s already heading off, pushing through the throngs of customers. Above us, the Skye Hotel stretches ten stories tall. Between the Pages set the tone for the decor, all dark tones and Old European furniture. It’s comfort and culture all rolled into one.

Skye had protested at first. You can’t name the hotel after me! But it was a stellar name, and I loved seeing it on all my documents. And after I’d proposed it to my team… well, it took on a life of its own. Soon, I couldn’t change it even if I wanted to-and I certainly didn’t.

I turn back to watch her talk to a customer, happiness clear in her features. This is a day she’s earned. Becoming co-owner of the newly re-opened Between the Pages has done her good.

So has the release of her debut novel.

Maybe she feels me looking at her, or maybe her eyes roam of their own accord… but she sees me standing in the wings.

A smile lights up her face. It’s a private one, meant just for me, and it’s filled with intimacy. I watch as she excuses herself and a few seconds later she’s in my arms. “You’re here.”

“Of course I am.”

She glances back at the line, at the crowd. “Can you believe this?”

“Yes,” I say. “It’s a fantastic book, Skye. They see it. That’s what they’re here for.”

“Not to mention Brooks & King pulled out all the stops for this launch party,” she says archly, but her eyes dance. “I can’t believe I’m having a book reading of my own.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Yes. I’d have to be dead not to be.”

I kiss her, reassuring, warm. “You’re going to knock them dead, baby.”

Her hands flex around my shoulders. In the dim light, her engagement ring glitters. “Thank you.”

“And as soon as you’re done you’ll be drinking champagne, a celebrated author, basking in people’s congratulations.”

She rolls her eyes. “Just what I wrote the book for.”

“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, they say.” I bend down further, my lips against her ear. “But I love it when you use it.”

I can feel Skye’s smile against my skin. “I hate you,” she says.

“Yes, that’s it.”

She leans into my side and I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her into my body. “I’m so proud of you. Now go out there and kick ass.”

And she does. I stand in the back, watching as she takes a seat on the impromptu stage. Edwin Taylor clears his throat into the mic, and the crowd quiets. “We’re here today to listen to Skye Holland, our newest author, read an excerpt from her debut novel. But first-what inspired you to write this novel?”

Skye’s answer is lengthy, and personal, and I watch several people dab at their eyes. Eleanor’s dream became her dream, and with it, the bookstore. Her eyes flicker to Karli in the front row.