The Color Of Love: A BWWM Billionaire Alpha Male Romance (2 page)

One hour later she
was sporting a low cropped haircut, much like Amber Rose. The
platinum blonde color was the stylist idea and Victoria was amazed at
her transformation. The haircut made her look almost innocent, and
the small side part made her feel quite smart. She was very pleased
with the outcome.

Abby was recovering
from her pile of customary giggles, while a straight faced Victoria
waited patiently for a verdict.

“Wow Vic, you
look… awesome… what the hell will your mom say? She
loved your hair… She may disown you!”

More laughter
bubbled from Abby and Victoria could no longer keep her own laughter
quiet. Leaning against the cool glass of the ice cream shop door for
support as humor overtook them, they decided to set off and she
decided not to tell her mother anything about the hair until it was
necessary.

The spa appointment
was at ten am and it was now nine forty five. Chatting as they walked
the short distance, the two friends linked hands, and laughed like
school girls as people stared at the new blond and the tall redhead.
Yes, they were inseparable.

*****

The caterer’s
were slacking again and Dawson had lost his patience. This was the
third glass that had failed inspection and this type of incompetence
wouldn’t do. Some would say he was obsessive, but in Dawson
Ledger’s mind, he could afford to be that way. Dried droplets
of water staining sparkling glass was something he had asked them to
address before and apparently, they didn’t care enough to take
heed. That was ok- there were other companies who could use the
business since they obviously didn’t want to keep the contract.

It was probably
unusual for the man at the top of the food chain to check cutlery,
but tonight’s meeting was crucial, and the guests were even
more critical than he was- not that he cared. Yes, he wanted their
money, but if they refused to invest, he would find other
alternatives. Nothing could get in the way of his success.

Some said he was
overzealous and others considered him enthusiastic, either way he
deserved the many zeros on his bank account. Inheritance didn’t
mean entitlement though, and Dawson tried to be the fair man his dad
taught him to be. At the tender age of twenty seven, he inherited the
string of luxury hotels his dying father could no longer manage, and
the financial pundits on Wall Street predicted the company would
crash and burn in months. Never one to satisfy anyone’s
expectations, but his own, Dawson turned the million dollar empire
into a mega billion dollar bargaining chip and those ready to wager
were knocking at the door.

Selective and wise
in all his business dealings, he opened up to only a few and before
his dad died, Dawson hit money - bigger money than his dad had
managed to accumulate.

Debut Movie Cinemas
were almost a landmark in Florida. It sat on prime real estate, but
the owners had not caught up to the information age and as the years
went by and more modern, sleeker cinemas opened their doors, fewer
and fewer patrons came to DMC. The company teetered on the brink of
bankruptcy. A good thing Ledger and Son came along.

There was no
negotiation - Dawson’s lawyers offered a sum and the lawyers
representing the cinema took it. It would turn out to be one of the
most financially savvy decisions he ever made.

Interior demolition
experts arrived as soon as the ink was dry and before long, the
collection of five cinemas was gutted, cleaned, remodeled, upgraded
and brought into this century. In exactly twenty four months, the
stock for DMC had quadrupled its initial twelve dollar share value
and there were people willing to buy as many as possible if they
became available.

Today he was going
to encourage his intelligent investors to see his vision of the
future. He wanted to dedicate one of the cinemas to live
entertainment and theater. His vision was to do Florida’s
version of Broadway and to his mind it would be epic. This was the
reason for his nit picking today - these people needed to be happy.

Glancing at his
simple looking watch, purchased with enough money to feed a small
village, he barked orders at his personal assistant, Sara. She in
turn bellowed at the staff to get clean stemware and cutlery at each
of the place settings before she stalked off to call the manager.
This would be their last dinner service for the Ledger group of
companies.

At exactly ten am
the meeting was called to order and by eleven all of the faces were
smiling at the new money making proposal. Brilliant - the lawyers
would draw up the paperwork and by month end the first production of
DMC would be underway. No surprise, Dawson always got what he wanted
- always.

A tabloid had
reported last week that he was newly eligible after Naomi Donahue,
award winning actress, seemed to be no longer in his life. They had
the scant details, but were mostly accurate in the account of their
separation. One point they certainly did get right, was the fact that
he was easily bored. Touted as a playboy lover with a wandering eye
and playful nature, Dawson was loved by the camera and he loved it in
return.

Often caught in
intimate positions with the most desired and gorgeous women of the
world, he let the media follow his movements. History needed to
record the rise of his fresh new empire. No need to deprive the
public of his legend. They always found out anyway, so why not allow
them?

Naomi had been
stunning but simple, and after a few months her empty conversation
and juvenile behavior no longer stimulated him. He was on the prowl
for something new.

Dawson’s
green eyes were a family trait and he stared into them as he backed
his midnight blue Bugatti out of the private parking lot. He
preferred to drive himself recently, and while still on the payroll,
the chauffeur was enjoying time off and in celebration of his
successful meeting, he was going to reward himself.

Melissa, the young
woman no one knew he was screwing, extended an open invitation to her
penthouse suite. This was the finest opportunity to take advantage of
it. Breathtakingly beautiful, Melissa was the daughter of fellow
business magnate and sometimes competition, Cyrus Vaughn. Dawson
deemed it fitting to pick the girl’s forbidden fruit in a time
like this, a time when he was rising higher and doing even better
than his family fortune. He like playing with fire and she, Melissa,
was the ultimate flame.

As he pulled to a
stop under the canopy of East view Estate - one of his hotels - the
valet hopped into action, surprised that the boss was there and
excited to park the priceless Bugatti. The word spread in moments and
the concierge appeared ready to take any command. The penthouse suite
was the boss’s destination and as the elevator doors closed,
Dawson nodded at his reflection on the mirrored walls.

Twenty eight years
old, America’s youngest billionaire, six feet four, muscular
and an accomplished lover. Not bad for a kid born with a gold spoon
in his mouth.

There were corns on
the fingers Victoria used to control the knife. The salon visits
didn’t matter, they still remained there as a reminder of the
years of hard work she put in to become who she already deemed a
success.
The
books didn’t always balance in the black though, and sometimes
she was forced to pay Abby alone and do without her salary. Having
worked in kitchens over steaming, greasy dishes and sweating pots
from the time she was fourteen, Victoria knew just how much blood,
sweat and tears went into making a plate of food and she wore her
scars with pride.

Still she considered
Palette a success. The jobs were not large and the contracts
unsteady, but it was just enough to keep her holding on to the dream.
How Palette worked was simple - you called with a request, anything
you could think of - from penis bachelorette cakes, to weird things
like pastries that exploded in your mouth and she would never refuse
to create it. Pretty simple rule.

As she computed the
numbers for this week, Victoria dropped the pen and squeezed her eyes
shut, pinching her nose bridge. There would be no salary this month
for her. All profits had to be used to restock and pay the rent. As
her home base and business kitchen, she couldn’t let the roof
over her head be taken. Bills and priorities were always in the
forefront of her mind.

Truthfully, she was
stumped as to what else to do to market her skills. Social media
generated some traffic and business, but it wasn’t enough to
take it to the next level. She needed a couple large contracts to
help her hit the target.

The ringer on
Victoria’s cell phone went off at exactly four minutes past
three on Friday afternoon. Abby was calling to say that her delivery
of the Grooms cake went flawlessly. She was peeking in at her
favorite cupcake shop and gossiping with a friend who managed it. The
friend lamented that she and her team were fired from the catering
job they ran a few weeks ago. The unreasonable rich man, for whom
they were preparing the food, pulled the whole contract. She was now
looking for another contract to fill the void.

Listening absently,
Victoria nodded while staring at her numbers. Abby could chat freely
because she didn’t have the pressure of owning a business. Her
ears only turned on when she heard the words “possible
contract”. She was now actively listening.

“So what do
you think Vic? Do you wanna try it out?” Abby asked.
Embarrassed that she had tuned out her best friend, Victoria asked
her to repeat. After a lengthy, dramatic sigh, Abby repeated her
speech. “Andrea said her company lost the contract for DMC a
few weeks ago. It’s not as creative a job as we usually do, but
it could help to pay the bills. Do you want to give it a shot?”

Put off by the
lacking creative nature of the job, Victoria declined. She would be
bored stiff, making chicken sandwiches and buttering bagels. Too
simple and unappealing. Disappointing her best friend, Victoria
gently declined the offer.

Replacing the phone
on the table caused another unopened red notice to fall to the floor.
As she retrieved it, she started to question if refusing work because
it was boring, was the right choice. Bill collectors didn’t
care where the money came from.

*****

The opening night of
any affair needed planning and precision and DMC Theater Live was no
exception. The walk through of the grand theater pleased Dawson
immensely and all the staff seemed to be at the top of their game.
The event planner for the special night was there, pointing out now,
exactly what would be happening and when. The menu was the only thing
holding them back from placing the final tick on the checklist.

Dawson Ledger could
be very imposing. Not sinisterly so, but ominous none the less. He
smiled sincerely and then switched to a wild animal in seconds if any
incompetency was detected in his staff. His expectations were equally
as high for himself and he asked for nothing he didn’t give in
return. He dressed crisp and so did his staff. He spoke clearly and
respectfully and demanded the same in return. Everyone was happy when
Dawson was happy. That was just the way things were with him.

Menus and wines were
things Dawson demanded to be pristine. So far all the caterers his
personal assistant had hired rated about ninety five percent
competent in his books. Dawson was looking for one hundred and fifty.
Secretly, he had emailed the event planner and asked her to source
the best of the best. He wanted signature cakes to represent the
themes of the play, finger foods to represent the mood of the main
characters, and desert stations to bring the attendees the same
feeling as the sweet ending of the play.

The grand rehearsal
of their premier performance was two weeks away and it would be there
he would sample the hand of her suggested caterer. Little did Dawson
know that the event planner was yet to find the right candidate. The
countdown was on.

Interviewing as many
as fifteen chefs had proved that Florida had good talent, but that
would never do - she needed great. Watching the great man walk across
the floor belting out instructions to his mousy looking assistant
reminded the planner that to mess up with Dawson meant to mess up in
Florida - she just couldn’t let that happen.

*****

The cake was made
into a ballerina and it spun when the switch was flicked on. Her
skirt sparked as the sugar glass picked up the bright lights in the
room, declaring it another masterpiece created by Victoria. In the
corner, Abby worked on the filling of a lava cake. They were a happy
pair.

The phone rang and
Abby grabbed it in a cloud of icing sugar. “Thank you for
calling Palette where your taste buds are our canvas. What fantasy
can we help you create today?”

Victoria wrote the
greeting. She was proud of it. Listening to Abby make pensive sounds
as the person on the other end spoke, Victoria admired her now
finished work before eventually being summoned to the phone. Asking
Abby to put it on speaker while she washed her hands, Victoria said,
“This is Victoria Jones, Chief Creative director for Palette.
How can I help?”

“Good day
Victoria, this is Winelle Martin from Exclusive Events. We received
your application and we would like to meet with you in the morning if
possible. We like the work in your online portfolio and would like to
discuss a possible contract with us. Are you free at ten am?”

Victoria paused. She
never sent an application anywhere and had no clue how to respond.
Asking the lady to hold for a moment, she silenced the call and
looked at Abby who was now a deep shade of red. The culprit had been
caught. Before any words could leave Victoria’s lips, a torrent
of excuses came from Abby who looked quite uncomfortable.