Chapter 38: If It’s Your Billionaire Boss at the Door, Pretend That No One’s Home

Sierra stood frozen staring up at Raemon Kentworth’s stone-cold face. Her entire body was numb. Her mind was an empty, blank space.

She could only stand there, staring into those electrifying eyes.

Eyes that she knew too well from magazine covers and paparazzi pictures. Eyes that she’d spent years dreaming of staring into. Eyes that she’d only hoped would one day be looking down at her.

It was all happening, and Sierra couldn’t believe it.

Raemon Kentworth—the billionaire, the tech mogul, the handsome, muscular, gorgeous, most sought-after man on the planet—was at her front door, standing before her.

His voice cut through Sierra’s paralysis.

“Where’s Octavia?” he said.

Pain stabbed at Sierra’s heart. Octavia? Why Octavia? Had the sexiest man on the planet just shown up at her front door and asked for Octavia?

The thought suddenly got her brain working again. Forget her. Sierra knew how to make a man want her. She wouldn’t waste this golden opportunity.

She would make him want her—see her, and only her. She would make sure she made an impression.

She made a move to toss her hair over her shoulder in a sexy, carefree way and then realized something that sent another wave of paralyzing shock through her body.

She was standing before Raemon Kentworth in a bathrobe with a face covered in goop that was practically the color of horse shit.

Without thinking, Sierra slammed the door shut. She whirled around and pressed her back up against it, breathing heavily and twitching frantically.

“No, no, no, no, no!” she hissed to herself. How could she let that happen? How could this be the way she looked when she met the man of her dreams?

And she had had so many plans for what she would wear and how she’d do her makeup when she finally got to meet him. WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK?!?!?!? Fate really was a cruel, heartless bitch.

Octavia strolled into the room but stopped on her way to the kitchen, giving Sierra a puzzled look across the room.

“What’s up?” she asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Sierra’s wide eyes shot up to Octavia with a panicked, glazed look.

“I was never here,” she whispered hoarsely. Then she jumped up and darted off to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Octavia looked after her in confusion but shrugged it off and started for the kitchen again. A knock on the front door stopped her.

“Who the hell could that be?” Octavia said aloud as she walked to the door. She grabbed the handle of the doorknob, twisted it, and pulled the door open.

Her reaction was almost the same as Sierra’s. At the sight of Raemon, her eyes widened and her body froze.

“Shit,” Octavia said.

“That’s no way to greet your boss, Octavia,” Raemon said.

“Not when he’s supposed to be gone and I’m supposed to have time off,” Octavia retorted. “What is it now? Did you cancel your trip or something?”

“No, I’m still going,” Raemon said.

“Okay…so why are you here?” Octavia asked.

“Because you’re coming with me,” Raemon said.

A wave of dread washed over her.

“N-o-o-o-o…,” Octavia whined. “You said I didn’t have to come!”

“I changed my mind,” Raemon said simply.

Octavia crossed her arms. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

Raemon stared down at her frowning face. He sighed.

“Very well,” Raemon said, “I only agreed to this trip to get a chance to talk to Lawrence Bridlington-Scott. Sometimes it helps to discuss business away from the actual business.”

“So why do I have to be there?” Octavia said.

“It occurred to me that…certain people may be under the impression that my intentions involve something other than a potential deal,” Raemon continued.

Octavia smirked. “By ‘certain people’ you mean Lila.”

“If I show up alone, it will look that way.” Raemon continued, ignoring Octavia’s remark. “But if I arrive with my assistant, it will send the message that I’m there for business.”

“Why can’t you just tell her you’re there for business?” Octavia said.

“It’s comical you think that would have an effect,” Raemon said.

Octavia sighed. “No fair. You said I could have this time off. I was so looking forward to it.”

“Is being in my presence so tedious?” Raemon asked.

Octavia gave him a pointed look. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

“No,” Raemon said, “I think I know the answer.”

“Why does it have to be me? Why can’t you take Adelaide?” Octavia asked.

“Who?”

“You know, Adelaide. Your secretary?”

“…Oh. No, Weston won’t do.”

“Because?”

“Because she might jump off a cliff if Ms. Scott asked her too. And Ms. Scott would.”

“What if I jump off a cliff?” Octavia said bitterly.

“As long as you do it after this trip, I won’t mind,” Raemon replied.

Octavia groaned. “So. Not. Fair.”

“No matter,” Raemon said dismissively, “you don’t even have to really work for the week. You can just sit beside me and simply play solitaire if you want. I just need you beside me at all times.”

“Ooh, fun,” Octavia said sarcastically.

“We’ve wasted enough time,” Raemon said, “let’s go.”

“Can I at least grab a toothbrush?” Octavia asked. “I’ll need to pack for this, you know.”

“No need,” Raemon said, “you already have luggage packed and ready to go at the plane.”

Octavia looked at her boss like he’d lost his mind. “Huh?”

“I had Mrs. Santos prepare your luggage for you. She purchased and packed everything you need for this trip and sent it ahead to the destination,” Raemon said complacently as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Huh?” Octavia said again. “But…how?”

“Mrs. Santos is very thorough. If I asked her to get everything you need, she will have got everything. Now let’s go.”

“But,” Octavia started to protest, “what about…underwear? Did she get that?”

“I’m sure she did.”

“But how do you know? And how do I know that it will even fit? How do I know that any of it will fit?”

“If it doesn’t, you can buy an entirely new wardrobe when we get there,” Raemon said impatiently.

He whipped out a wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a silver card from it, handing it to Octavia. “Here. Spend whatever you want.”

“You know I could just seriously pack my own stuff like, now,” Octavia said.

“Or we could just leave, like, now,” Raemon said.

Octavia sighed. “Fine…can I at least get my backpack? It’s in my room. I also have to tell Gracie she’ll have to get through the zombie wasteland without me.”

“I’d ask what any of that means, but then I’m sure I don’t want to know the answer,” Raemon said. “I’ll be in the car outside. You have five minutes.”

“Fifteen,” Octavia said.

“Ten,” Raemon said finally.

“Okay, okay,” Octavia said. She shut the door as he turned away.

Octavia grimaced as she walked back to her room. Gracie was still sitting on one of the chairs before Octavia’s desk, staring at the screen before her with a controller in her hands.

“Took you an awful lot of time just to get a Coke,” she said.

“Um…there’s been some…new developments,” Octavia said.

Gracie’s eyes did not leave the screen. “Was that your boss at the door?”

“Yeah-h-h,” Octavia answered wearily.

“Are you going on the trip after all?”

“Yeah-h-h.”

“Cool. Have fun.”

Octavia eyed Gracie suspiciously. “That’s it? You’re not going to give me some ominous warning about whatever his intentions are?”

“Nope,” Gracie said cheerfully, “it’s not like you’re the one who’s clueless about what’s going on.”

A thought occurred to Octavia. “Huh. So that’s what it was,” she said.

“What?” Gracie asked.

“I think Sierra’s wish has finally been granted.” She grinned, remembering Sierra’s panic-stricken, poop-green face when she had flown past Octavia earlier.

“You really should be careful what you wish for.”

After a two-hour flight that Octavia spent napping, and a thirty-minute car ride from the private airstrip Raemon’s plane had landed at, their destination came into view.

Octavia’s eyes grew to the size of soup bowls as it did.

What Lila had referred to as a “beach house” was really a “beach mansion.” The Golden Cove wasn’t a quaint little beach town full of quirky, tourist stores and seafood shacks like Octavia had assumed.

It was a miniature universe of upscale, high-class everything, comprised only of the mansions bordering the sandy shores and the luxury shopping centers and restaurants on the inland.

It was a microcosm of wealth and stature; a place where the richest of the rich could vacation without the inconvenience of being reminded of their privilege.

A gray-haired, bearded man dressed in loose white linen clothes and wearing a straw fedora stood at the magnificent white doors of the mansion.

He carried an ornate cane in one hand but didn’t lean on it and looked on the approaching car Octavia and her boss were in with a wide, gleaming smile. This, she presumed, was Mr. Bridlington-Scott.

“Raemon Kentworth, I am honored,” Mr. Scott boomed once Raemon had slid out of the black SUV. Octavia clambered out of the car behind him.

“Mr. Bridlington-Scott,” Raemon said evenly, shaking his hand with a firm grip. “The honor is mine.”

“Bah!” Mr. Scott said. “You know how many of the people around here are going mad with envy knowing that the Raemon Kentworth is a guest in my home?”

He threw his head back and laughed. It echoed across the white stone-paved grounds and seemed to rustle the bright-green palm trees lining the winding driveway up to the mansion entrance.

“My assistant, Octavia Wilde,” Raemon said, motioning to Octavia.

It caught her unaware, and she stepped forward awkwardly and gave Mr. Scott a hurried wave.

“Nice to meet you,” Mr. Scott said in all politeness, though he quickly turned back to Raemon.

“Lila will be happy to see you, I know. Come in, come in!” Mr. Scott said, clapping Raemon on the back and motioning him to the double doors behind them, which slowly swung open automatically.

“I was pleasantly surprised by her invitation,” Raemon said.

“I was exceptionally surprised you accepted!” Mr. Scott said with a guffaw. “No, really. I am honored you would deign to stay in my modest, little cottage by the sea.”

Octavia choked back a laugh at his words. ~“Modest.” “Cottage.” Ha. Funny.~

The doors opened up to an immense hall with intricately patterned blue-and-white tiles lining the floor and modern sculpted chandeliers dotting the towering ceiling.

Maids in prim uniforms were milling about, dusting the human-sized ceramic vases set in some places or straightening the fifteen-foot-long drapes framing the gigantic windows.

Out the windows, Octavia caught a glimpse of lush, green gardens, basketball and tennis courts, and at least three swimming pools.

“Now listen to me,” Mr. Scott was saying to Raemon as he walked them down the hall, “I know you probably work harder than anyone on this planet, but I want you to spend this time truly relaxing.

“The Parthenon is the ideal place to kick back and rejuvenate yourself.”

“The Parthenon?” Octavia repeated.

Mr. Scott glanced at her quickly in surprise as if he hadn’t expected her to utter any noise. Which, she realized, he probably hadn’t.

“Uh…yes,” he answered, “named after the great Greek temple, you know. It was a gift to my second wife, Lila’s mother. She named it the Parthenon.”

Octavia almost asked, “So which wife lives in it now?”, but she held that particular snide comment back.

“Thank you, Mr. Scott,” Raemon said. “All the same, I’ll still have work to do. That’s why my assistant accompanied me here.”

Again Mr. Scott sent a brief glance in Octavia’s direction. But he said nothing.

“That’s too bad,” he said, “Lila will be disappointed. She was really looking forward to spending time with you. All of us being together, actually.

“I hope you will be able to make time for us in your busy schedule.” He gave them a jovial smile.

“As much as I am able to,” Raemon said. “I’ll be glad to—”

“Daddy! Where the fuck are you?” a high-pitched, whiny voice called, cutting Raemon off. Lila emerged through one of the many doors lining the hall.

She strolled through the entrance and, on seeing Raemon, started. The unflattering pout on her scrunched face dissolved and was replaced by a magnificent, alluring smile.

“Raemon!” she exclaimed. “You’re here!”