Alpha Bait_BWWM Billionaire Romance Novel Read online

I chuckled awkwardly, "it's not Selena I'm worried about."

  I regretted my answer because I'd made it seem as if I wanted to leave with her. The last thing I wanted was to engage in any sort of relations with a drunk Ginger Hatchet. She leaned forward and kissed my cheek. I pressed my lips together in a closed, uncomfortable smile.

  "What's the problem, Richard?"

  "There's no problem, Ginger. I just... I don't know if this is a good idea."

  "Why? You're the one Carmichael that doesn't like fucking?"

  She burst into laughter and downed the rest of her White Russian. She might have crossed past the point of drunkenness where she was simply too far gone to feel humiliated. I downed the rest of my martini, wondering if perhaps catching up to her would put me in a better state of mind.

  "No. It isn't that."

  "Then what? Am I ugly?"

  "Ginger, you aren't ugly."

  "Then why won't you come upstairs?" She whined, with the indignation of a pampered princess used to getting her way.

  I loosened my tie and cleared my throat. As I glanced across the boat, hoping to find an escape by recognizing an old friend or someone of that nature, my eyes caught a glimpse of a woman -- a different kind of woman than Ginger. She was a different kind of woman than anyone.

  To make matters worse, she'd been the one staring at me...

  "Ginger," I replied, "I've got to go. Head back to Selena and tell her I said to take good care of you."

  "Richard!" She squealed.

  I dashed across the boat, hoping to find the beautiful woman who had disappeared into the crowd.

  Strangers

  INDIE

  Jamal, Donnie and I stood on the second story of the yacht watching our friends, acquaintances and the stragglers who had snuck into the party milling about on the dance floor.

  "Look at that white girl," Donnie chuckled, pointing at a red-headed woman flailing about on the dance floor.

  "Wait is that..." I muttered, squinting at the figure below, only illuminated by the soft yellow lights on the deck.

  "Yes," Jamal scowled, "It's Selena Carter."

  "What the hell is she doing here?"

  "Theresa invited her by accident."

  "What?!"

  "She mixed up about a hundred names that were supposed to be on the funeral guest list."

  "Geez. How many other frickin' Carmichaels are here?"

  I folded my arms and leaned against the railing between my cousin and my brother, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone in the party below deck.

  "I hope they were smart enough not to come," Jamal grumbled.

  "I dunno. I think I might have seen Ames."

  "Fuck's sake!" I grumbled.

  "All you gotta do is ignore them," Jamal replied.

  "Easier said than done they're crawling all over the ship."

  "I'll keep an eye on you," Donnie offered.

  I chuckled and wrapped my cousin in a half hug.

  "Thanks, Donnie, I'm a big girl. I can handle a Carmichael any time of day in the boardroom and at a party."

  "Think they came just to piss us off?" Donnie asked.

  Jamal shrugged.

  "Maybe it's just good faith -- they want us to know they're taking what mama said seriously."

  Jamal and Donnie chuckled.

  "Indie, don't be naive," Jamal replied.

  "They're ruthless."

  I rolled my eyes.

  "They might be ruthless but if they make an effort, I don't want us to look like the bad guys."

  "We can't look like the bad guys if we aren't the bad guys."

  Donnie ran his hands over his waves. His dashiki made him look smart and contrasted with his white linen pants and boat shoes. Like me, he was a transplant in the world of the wealthy and his wardrobe often reflected his incongruence with the wealth our family had grown up into. We were black -- no question about that -- but we were different too. People like the Carmichaels never allowed us to forget that difference.

  "I'm going to go say hi to Selena," Donnie said, "and see who else is here."

  Jamal grinned, "As long as you don't flirt with her."

  "Disgusting," Donnie sneered before walking off.

  Jamal and I stood together alone. My brother topped off my drink and I poured the champagne down my throat.

  "Nice dress, sis."

  "And what about my mask?"

  I held up my mask, a construction of peacock feathers and glitter. Jamal grinned. "You look like a bird."

  "A bird with an afro," I added.

  Jamal and I laughed at the image and my brother wrapped his arm around me.

  "So, heading back to work tomorrow?"

  "Yeah. I am. I've had enough time off."

  "Enjoyed Bali?"

  "You know I did."

  "Meet anyone?" Jamal asked.

  My eyes narrowed.

  "I don't see how that's your business Jamal."

  "I'm your older brother, of course, it's my business."

  He removed his arm from around me and I leaned on the railing, avoiding his gaze.

  "You mad?" He asked.

  "No, I'm not mad. You're being disrespectful."

  "Answer the question."

  "No, there was nobody in Bali."

  "Jamie didn't come out to visit you?"

  "He did."

  "And nothing happened?"

  "Jamie and I have been finished for years. We're only friends. We had a drink and that's it."

  "You know, Indie, sometimes I really worry that you're a -- never mind."

  "I'm a what?"

  "A lesbian."

  I snorted, "Would that be so bad?"

  Jamal nodded, "Yes. It would be."

  "Screw you, Jamal."

  "Who you marry matters, Indie."

  "So what? I can't be a lesbian because of the family image?"

  "Yes."

  "That's bigoted, Jamal."

  He shrugged, "It wouldn't matter if you were one of our cousins."

  "It doesn't matter now."

  "I only want what's best for you Indie. Any dirt on you, any wrong move could have devastating results for our business."

  "Our business, or for yours?"

  Jamal clenched his jaw and I knew I was venturing into sensitive territory where it would be too easy to piss him off.

  "You know what I mean, Indie."

  "I don't see what my love life has to do with anything."

  "We're part of the richest black family in America. All eyes are on us at all times. In the city, it's even worse. We don't need a scandal."

  "I don't intend to have one."

  "Good," Jamal grunted, "I need whiskey."

  He stalked off, leaving me alone at the top of the balcony. Whatever. Jamal could be pissy but at the end of the day, he had no right to be a homophobe and no right to tell me who I could and couldn't date. It was 2018. I was a grown woman -- my own woman.

  The party reached a rowdy crescendo below and I left my observation post on the balcony to join the surge of dancers, beer drinkers, and friends. I'd spotted my friend Therèse Freeman, a college girl friend who I hadn't seen since before I'd left for Bali.

  I waltzed down the stairs with my mask off. When I got to the base of the stairs and scanned the crowd, I saw a man seated at the bar who I didn't recognize from anywhere. For a few seconds, I froze, trying to place the face. There were familiar aspects to his jawline. Once I realized I'd been staring too long, I tried to look away but it was too late.

  Mr. Seersucker suit waved. He wore a white mask, like the one in the Phantom of the Opera. Funny. I slipped my mask on and attempted to find an escape through the crowd after I waved awkwardly in response. He beckoned me over to him and I shook my head. Before I could find an escape and dash away from an uncomfortable conversation, he pushed his way through the crowd.

  With his height, pushing through a convulsing crowd posed no difficulty.

  "Hi," his rumbling bass voice carried over the
noise of the party with ease.

  "Hello."

  "I saw you from across the room. You look beautiful."

  "Thank you," I replied, blushing.

  "Do you know the family?"

  "The Holloways?"

  "Yes..."

  Before I could respond, a drunk girl stumbled between us cackling like a hyena as she sloshed a full glass of red wine all over my white dress. I shrieked and the girl turned around howling and hooting.

  "OHHHH SHIT! I'm SOOOO sorry."

  "It's fine," I grumbled.

  "Do you want me to send it to the dry cleaners for you?" She slurred.

  "No, really it's fine."

  "I'm sorry, girl."

  The girl stumbled towards me, sloshing more wine onto me after completing her apologetic hug which had been more for her than for me. She stumbled off, leaving me soaking wet in front of the hottest guy I'd seen all night.

  "You alright?"

  "Except for my dress."

  "Do you have anything to change into?" He pulled off his Seersucker jacket, "You can wear this if you want to, to cover it up."

  "No, thank you, but I think I have to go change."

  "It's a shame. I was enjoying our conversation."

  I had been too.

  "I don't usually do this," I said, "but maybe we could meet up again after the boat docks? You know Two Mile Hollow?"

  "Yes," Mr. Seersucker suit answered, "my family has a house around here."

  "Perfect," I replied, "so does mine."

  "30 minutes after the boat docks, I'll meet you there."

  "Great. What did you say your name was?" I asked.

  "I didn't. See you there."

  He turned around and walked away before I could ask him what the heck kind of an answer that was. I didn't chase after him. Red wine covered me head to toe and the last thing I wanted was to be chasing after a man while dripping in red wine.

  I slunk along the back of the boat towards our suites and entered my cabin, turning the lock behind me. I wondered who the hell that tall stranger could be. He had this air of familiarity as if he knew me and from what I could see of his features, he bore a family resemblance to the Zachariah family, the Lyman family or the Moore family. Still, something about him wasn't quite Lyman or Moore. And he didn't have the bleach blond Zachariah hair either.

  I'd have to ask Jamal if I saw him again before we docked.

  I stripped off my white dress and scoured my closet for something else. I'd half expected something like this to happen, and the sun had set already, so I switched from the white dress into a bright yellow bikini with a lace throw over it.

  I twirled in the mirror, embracing how the bikini hugged my curves and how the yellow popped against my melanin. Mr. Seersucker suit would take him mask right off once he saw how I looked in this.

  Jamal had a lot of nerve telling me who I could and couldn't see. He wanted me to find a respectable man? Fine. Mr. Seersucker was clearly a gentleman; he'd offered me his jacket. Mr. Seersucker was also tall, brown-haired and devastatingly handsome. Even if his mask had obscured the details on his face, nothing can truly hide a strong masculine jawline or towering height. And his voice...

  I'd nearly crossed into crush territory so I had to get back out there and dance my butt off before the boat docked again. We had two more hours.

  I didn't run into Mr. Seersucker suit again and not for lack of trying. I tried describing him to Donnie and Jamal but neither of them could place who I was talking about. How in the heck could a mystery man that nobody seemed to know have made it onto the yacht? If we weren't in the Hamptons, I would have been worried.

  As we drew closer to shore, the music wound down into slow R&B jams. Donnie and a cute, petite dark-skinned woman were locked in an embrace on one end of the dance floor. Jamal smoked a cigar at the bar with his business associate, Chuck and Chuck's wife, Ida. I had no interest in dancing and I'd done enough flirting for the night.

  One of Jamal's programmers asked me out, but I respectfully declined. I never mix work and dating. Ihit it off with another guy that night, a younger guy, thirty-years-old and heavily invested in Bitcoin and the stock market. He was interesting, smart and clearly monied but throughout our entire conversation my mind fixated on only one thing: the identity of Mr. Seersucker.

  The ship docked and I wrapped my kaftan tighter around my body as I prepared to walk the length of the beach to Two Mile Hollow. Neither Jamal nor Donnie knew where I was headed and the secrecy surrounding both his identity and the clandestine meeting sent a thrill down my spine. I hadn't lived like this in a long time. Only a Holloway family party -- and copious amounts of Möet -- could bring out the frisky risk taker buried inside me.

  Donnie caught me as we left the boat onto dry land.

  "Coming back to the house?"

  "Uh no, I think I'm staying out for a while."

  "Headed to the bar with Winter?"

  "No," I replied, "uh, just heading onto the beach to meet someone."

  "A guy?" Donnie asked, wagging his brows suggestively.

  "Don't tell Jamal."

  He snorted, "You're grown. You can do what you want."

  "Thank you."

  "Have fun."

  "I will."

  "Who's the lucky guy?"

  "He isn't lucky yet. And I have no idea. He was wearing a mask."

  "Ah, and whose brilliant idea was that?"

  "Shut up, Donnie."

  "See ya."

  He hugged me goodbye.I began my trek down the beach before Jamal could catch sight of me and grill me about where I was headed. The full moon struck down, illuminating the sugary sand with soft rays of grayish blue light.

  Sand spilled over my toes and waves lapped at my feet as I slipped away to Two Mile Hollow.

  Unmasked

  RICH

  I sat on the sand with my shoes and mask off waiting for her. Fuck the masks. Fuck the mystery. I'd waited long enough and raced off the boat as fast as I could go. I didn't know if she'd ever come, or if she'd simply given me a line to keep me hooked. Hamptons girls were all the same.

  I skipped rocks against the infinite ocean as thick white seafoam washed up like vomit from the depths of the sea.

  In the distance I saw a shadowy figure -- around the woman's height -- heading in my direction. She walked with the grace of a goddess. Her hips swung from side to side, highlighting her incredible curvy figure that had been untamed by the trends of crash dieting and bulimia so prevalent in our circles.

  She was rich, I knew that. I'd spotted her diamond earrings and $4,000 dress from the moment I'd laid eyes on her. But who the hell was she? I'd never seen her before and figured she was some distant friend of the Holloway family. That had to be it. Perhaps I'd find out.

  She waved to me, but when she approached, her mask was still on. In the darkness, I could barely make out her features. I greeted her, wrapping her in a hug.

  "You came."

  "Of course I came," she replied, "I never got your name."

  "I never got yours," I replied.

  She giggled.

  "Do you need my name?"

  "No," I replied, "I'm content just to look."

  "Oh, so that's all you want?"

  "Of course," I replied with a cheeky grin, "we barely know each other after all."

  "Right. We don't even know each other's names."

  I sat on the sand again.

  "Join me."

  I patted a space beside me and she plopped onto the sand, digging her toes into it as she sat. We clutched our knees and stared out at the waves. The wind whipped through his hair and mine. She struggled to pull her long afro back into a ponytail and I reached over, touching her hand.

  "Let it free."

  She dropped her hand and huddled into her knees again. She appeared nervous, inquisitive and agitated as if she wanted more than to just sit with me. I couldn't blame her. I struggled to control myself. But common sense in my body told me not to leap at a
chance with a strange woman who I'd only just met.

  "You enjoy this? Sitting here, watching the waves with a stranger?" She asked.

  "Yes."

  "So do I," she replied.

  I cleared my throat, "well if you don't want to tell me your name, what do you do for a living?"

  "CFO."

  "No way."

  "Yes."

  "So am I."

  She grinned.

  "So then you'll get why I don't want to talk about work anymore."

  "Yes," she replied, "screw work. Life should be about --"

  "Yacht parties?" I replied.

  She laughed.

  "Yes," she replied, "you get it."

  "I've got a yacht of my own you know. I could take you somewhere -- somewhere magnificent."

  She laughed, "Hey Mr. Seersucker, don't get it twisted. There isn't a place in the world you could take me on your yacht that I haven't been on my own."

  "Oh?"

  "Rich guys don't impress me anymore. You're all the same. I need you to be... more than that."

  "Shit, you're out of luck then," I replied.

  She laughed again.

  "So I'm at least funny?"

  "Only a bit."

  "Mr. Seersucker?" I asked, "is that what you've been calling me."

  "I like the suit. Preppy."

  "So you like preppy guys then?"

  "Who says I like you?"

  "You don't even know my name and you met me on a beach alone."

  "Maybe I'm crazy."

  "I doubt that."

  She leaned in and whispered into my ear, "you don't know me well enough to say that."

  I laughed and she did too.

  "Listen," I replied, "my house isn't far off..."

  "No," she countered, "I'm not going to your place. If we can't do it on this beach, we shouldn't be doing it period."

  "Is that a challenge?"

  "No!"

  "Too late."

  I leaned into her, grasping the small of her back and kissed her gently. I pulled away for a moment, gauging her response. The moment my lips left hers, she reached for my face and grabbed my cheeks, pulling me in again. Her kisses sent a hot rush of blood right down my spine. Her full lips taunted mine as she pressed against mine a few more times then pulled away.

  "You still don't know my name," I whispered.