Holidays with the Billionaire

Chapter 4

Kelton

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I scrub a hand down my face when she knocks on my door. This has to be the tenth time today. I lose my concentration and am going to have to re-record these stock numbers again. “Come in,” I murmur.

Lea enters with a big, apologetic smile. “Sorry to bother you, sir.”

“What is it?” I ask, impatient.

“Um...” She looks down at her notepad and furrows her brow. “Gosh, can’t read my own writin’. I think this says Aspen something Resort. What’s it called again?”

She has got to be shitting me...

“It’s Alpine Peak Resort. In Alpine Peak, Colorado. How much of the booking do you have done, Lea?” I ask, reining in my impatience.

God, I miss Kay. She was the cat’s meow. The bee’s knees. The bomb dot com. At seventy, she could work circles around this bimbo. I wonder if she’d come back if I doubled her pay? Then I remembered she moved to Florida with her husband. Dammit.

“Oh, um, how many rooms do we need again?”

I chew the inside of my cheek until I taste blood. “Ya know what? Don’t worry about it, I’ll make the accommodations myself.” I’ll figure it out, is what I mean to say, but know I will.

“Oh, are you sure, sir? I don’t mind.”

“Why don’t you start finalizing the Christmas party stuff?” I suggest.

She looks confused, but then she grins. “Oh, okay. I can do that. Bye!”

She waves and walks out of my office, then closes the door.

For fuck’s sake. I should have never quit hockey. Damn knee injury. Maybe I could still coach...

I look at my computer screen and use my mouse to pull up the cameras from a week ago. I watch for the millionth time and fume as that sleazy-ass security guard tries to kiss Adlee Phillips. The girl who should be my secretary, but I knew I’d get myself into trouble if I’d hired her. So I begrudgingly chose the bimbo with no brain because she does absolutely nothing for me. I’m not into blondes. I prefer curvy girls, with long reddish brown hair, full, pouty lips, an attitude, and most of all, a brain.

Oh, I’d done a check on her. Bachelor’s degree in business. Former dancer her whole life, even in college, but quit sophomore year. Not sure what kind, but I can tell by her body that she can definitely move. No career in it though, hence the degree. When Jerrold, my CFO, interviewed her for his secretary, he picked her out of about six candidates. Kay was still working for me, or else I would have chosen her. Now, I’m glad I didn’t. No way could I work in such close proximity to her every day. I can’t walk around with a goddamn hard-on all day long. It’s not a good look.

But fuck, I’m going to have to fire or demote Lea if she doesn’t grow a brain. I need a self-starter. Someone independent who follows directions the first time. I can’t have her knocking on my damn door all day long. I think I’m going to have to institute a no-knock rule. Unless it’s an emergency. She can email me questions.

I pause the video and zoom in on Adlee’s face when she pulls back. It’s almost comically in shock, but I can’t bring myself to laugh because of how disgusting it was that Freddie kissed her like that. She definitely hadn’t been expecting it, and I could tell she was disgusted. Good. Nobody should be touching her without her consent. I did smile when she smacked him. I’d instructed the building security to fire his ass the next day, without reason. I hope he tries to sue. I’m sure he’ll back off when I show him the video. Something tells me he won’t though.

Fuck that guy.

I turn and look out through the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the west wall of my office. The sky is blue and the sun is out, but it’s definitely freezing out there. The mountaintops are loaded with snow and the Denver skyline sits below the mountains. Our Christmas party is in a week, and the day after that, the top execs and shareholders are all headed to Alpine Peak for our annual work-slash-ski trip. My family meets us out there every year as well.

Dread fills me at the thought of bringing Lea. It’s a working trip and I always bring my secretary. The last few years, Kay brought her husband and it worked out perfectly. She was there when I needed her for work stuff, but it was mostly a working vacation for her.

I could probably get away with going alone, and demand Lea be on-call for me remotely. Yes, that’s it, we could use video-chatting if we need to. If the woman even knows how to use it. I’ll have to have IT give her a crash course.

But shit... that won’t work. I need my assistant there in person to set up meetings, get the refreshments. Plus I already told Lea she’d be going, and she was perfectly okay with it. Excited, in fact.

Dammit.

I don’t feel like dealing with this.

I close the program, disgusted by the way Adlee was treated, and then remember the mishap with her Christmas tree that same day. A smirk finds my lips. What kind of idiot would twine themselves into their car? Since I know Adlee’s smart, I have to assume someone else did it. But she had to have been in the car when it was getting strapped on. Didn’t she realize? There are small hooks on the tops of cars for a reason—especially a Subaru. Literally the most popular, ultimate, cold-weather car. They’re everywhere. I chuckle to myself. The look on her face...

I wanted to slam her up against the hood, flip her around, bend her over, and fuck her on it. Of course I barely said two words to her. I wonder if she would have liked it, or would I have gotten slapped like Freddie?

I need to stop thinking about her.

After getting up, I stroll to the door, and go into the lobby area outside my office, where Lea is on the phone.

“Thanks. Gotta go!” she whispers loudly and hangs up.

I furrow my brow, wondering who she’s talking to. “Is everything all right?”

She nods fervently. “Oh yes, sir. Just had to talk to Mr. Laskin’s secretary about, ah, something.”

Adlee?

“Okay...”

I head to the coffee machine for a cup and see we’re out of sugar substitute. I could be an ass and bitch at Lea for not making sure it’s stocked, but instead I leave the lobby area and head out into the main office to get some from the employee’s breakroom. I don’t look at Adlee’s cubicle but walk by slowly.

“Mr. Fox, got a sec?”

I turn to see Jerrold Laskin waving at me from his office. I glance at Adlee, who’s staring at me with an unreadable expression, and ignore the feeling it gives me in my gut. I can’t let an employee affect me like that.

“What is it, Jerrold?” I ask, coffee in one hand, the other hand in my slacks pocket.

“What are the dates for the ski trip? I usually have an email and a full itinerary by now. Like a month ago, in fact.”

I sigh. Have you met my new secretary? “Miss Jordan’s working on it.”

Well, I’m working on it. I forgot this trip is more than making reservations. A whole-ass schedule of work stuff and leisure time goes on it so people are clear when they need to be working and when they’re free to do whatever.

I mean, I own the resort. My family does. Shit, we own half the damn town. But still, things need to be organized. Guess I’ll be sitting down with Lea after I get my sweetener.

“Anything else?” I ask.

He stares at me with watery brown eyes, deep wrinkles lining the edges. I take in his outdated suit and want to tell him he needs to retire. Of course, I don’t. I know I sure as shit won’t be still working when I’m pushing seventy. The guy’s loaded, too, owns a huge percentage of stocks of my company. He’s greedy and wants more.

“Nah, just let me know when you’re sending it over. Muriel’s asking.”

Of course his wife is. “Will do.”

I leave, heading toward the breakroom. Adlee’s not at her desk as I pass. I hear voices inside the breakroom, so I pause. One is Adlee, the other I’m fairly sure is Gabriel from accounting.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Adlee says. “Not only am I doing her old job, I’m doing her new one, too! She can’t find her way around a spreadsheet and she wouldn’t know how to create a table in Word if it hit her in the face!”

“Then stop doing it,” he replies. “Let her fail, honey. She got the promotion, she can do the damn job.”

Shit.

I walk in and they immediately stop talking, of course, and stiffen up. I dip my chin slightly and head to the coffee bar to grab the sweetener. I walk out without another word, but hear them asking if they thought I heard them.

A smile tips the corner of my lips and I head back to the executive offices.

“Oh, Mr. Fox, you’re back. A guy named”—Lea looks down at her messily-scribbled tablet—“Jet Keystone called for you. Like a hundred times!”

I highly doubt he called a hundred times in the five minutes I’ve been gone. What is this girl’s problem?

And why is Jet Keystone calling me? I hate that fucker.

“Well, next time he calls, I’ll pick it up myself.”

“Okay, that would be great. Gosh, he’s rude.”

I chuckle under my breath. I can only imagine his impatience with Lea, if mine is any indication.

After making coffee, I go into my office and shut the door. I’m not sat two minutes before my phone rings.

“Kelton Fox,” I answer.

“Kelton? Jet. Got a few minutes?”

I resist an eyeroll and scrub my hand down my face. “What is it now?”

“Listen, I know you already turned it down, but we have a new proposition for you. A deal too sweet to pass up.”

“About Aspen Peak,” I deadpan.

“Of course. The resort and the other half of the town. I’m gonna shoot this over to your email, okay?”

“If I said no would you still send it? Whatever, Jet. Quit wasting your time. The resort and our part of the town isn’t for sale,” I say impatiently, looking at the stacks of paperwork I have on my desk.

“Great, great. I’ll send it over. Check back with ya later.” He ends the call and I want to slam my desk phone down.

Jet Keystone and his pompous family own all of Keystone and half of Alpine Peak. He bought out every property he could, except the ones we Foxes wouldn’t sell. He has been hounding me for years to sell, and his father before him berated my father for the same thing. What they really want is the sweet-ass property that is the Alpine Peak Resort and the prime piece of real estate is sits on, overlooking the entire town, plus most of the neighboring town of Keystone. They are bored, rich assholes who want something they can’t have. If I have children one day, I vow to make them promise to hold strong and not sell to them.

My computer chimes with an email, and out of curiosity and maybe amusement, I open Jet’s email and look over his proposal. The asshole has literally doubled his last proposal of a hundred million dollars and the promise to keep the town name, which we named, but we’re not going to bite. I laugh in satisfaction and click out of my email program. No amount of money in the world would be worth it to sell to them. And it’s not out of spite. We don’t sell because that property and that town is our family’s legacy.

Jet Keystone can go fuck himself.