The Billionaire Bachelor
By: Jessica Lemmon
John Lemmon, thank you for driving me to
State Street a few days before Christmas, dropping to
one knee, and asking me to be your bride. I’ve
never once regretted saying yes.
Acknowledgments
Ah, the billionaire! It’s like returning to my roots. Whether you’ve been with me since the beginning or are just now discovering me: thanks a billion.
Thank you to Michele Bidelspach for your editorial prowess, Nicole Resciniti for your agent superpowers, and to everyone at Forever Romance who had a part in editing, designing, and producing this book.
As always, thank you to my friends and family and my dear husband, who have to deal with me during deadline time. I’m so lucky you all love me enough to put up with me!
Chapter 1
The Van Heusen Hotel was the love of Merina Van Heusen’s life. The historical building dominated the corner of Rush and East Chicago Avenue, regal and beautiful, a living work of art.
Her parents’ hotel had once been the Bell Terrace, home away from home to celebrities such as Audrey Hepburn, Sammy Davis Jr., and more recently, Lady Gaga and the late Robin Williams. The original structure perished in the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, only to be resurrected bigger, better, and more beautiful.
There was a life lesson in there.
Latte in hand, Merina breathed in the air in the lobby, a mix of vanilla and cinnamon. Faint but reminiscent of the famed dessert invented in the hotel’s kitchen: the snickerdoodle. On her way past Arnold, who stood checking a guest into the hotel, she snagged one of the fresh-baked cookies off a plate and winked at him.
The dark-skinned older man slid her a smile and winked back. Having practically grown up here, the VH was a second home to her. Arnold had started out as a bellman and had worked here for as long she could remember. He was as good as family.
She dumped her purse in her office and finished her cookie, holding on to the latte while she meandered down the hallways, checking to make sure there were no trays outside the doors that needed collecting. At the end of the corridor on the first floor, she saw a man outside one of the rooms, drill whirring away.
“Excuse me,” she called. Then had to call again to be heard over the sound. When she came into view, he paused the drilling and looked up at her.
He wore a tool belt and navy uniform, and the antique doorknob was sitting on the floor at his feet along with a small pile of sawdust.
“What are you doing?” she asked, bending to pick up the heavy brass. Her parents had done away with “real keys” the moment they took over, installing the popular keycard entry hotels now used, but the antique doorknobs remained.
“Installing the fingerprint entry.” From his pocket, the uniformed man pulled out a small silver pad with a black opening, then went back to drilling.
“No, no, no.” She placed the doorknob back on the ground and dusted her hand on her skirt. “We’re not doing any fingerprint entry.” She offered a patient smile. “You need to double-check your work order.”
He gave her a confused look. “Ma’am?” He was looking at Merina, but his voice was raised.
Merina’s mother, Jolie, appeared from behind the hotel room door, her eyebrows raising into hair that used to be the same honeyed shade of blond as Merina’s but now was more blond to hide the gray.
“Oh, Merina!” Her mother smiled, but her expression looked a little pained.
“Can you give me a minute with my daughter, Gary?” Like she was Gary’s mother, Jolie fished a five-dollar bill from her pocket and pressed it into his palm. “Go to the restaurant and have Sharon make you a caramel macchiato. You won’t be sorry.”
Gary frowned but took the cash. Merina shook her head as he walked away.
“Sweetheart.” Jolie offered another smile. A tight-lipped one meaning there was bad news. Like when Merina’s cat, Sherwood, had been hit by a car and Jolie had to break it to her. “Come in. Sit.” She popped open the door and Merina entered the guest room.
White duvets and molded woodwork, modern flat-screen televisions and artwork. Red, gold, and deep orange accents added to the richness of the palette and were meant to show that a fire may have taken down the original building but couldn’t keep it down.
