Not Husband Material (Billionaire's Contract Duet 1)

“Come on,” he beckoned, standing up. “Let’s get dressed. As much as I would love to stay here in the bedroom with you, there will be plenty of time for that later.”

He gave me his hand and helped me out of bed. We showered off together, as was quickly becoming our tradition, and then got dressed in warm, comfortable clothes. I had to keep glancing over at what Chase was wearing to better gauge how stylish I needed to be. He was always so put-together. It was effortless for him, having grown up in a world of designer clothing. I had no doubt that he had been wearing Versace and Armani since childhood, so it was all natural to him.

Today, Chase looked handsome as hell in his charcoal-colored cashmere sweater, black Burberry trench coat, gray scarf, and fitted dark jeans with black boots. I knew without asking that every item of his outfit probably cost more than a night at the Peppertree in the finest suite we had to offer. In my rather sad attempt to match his style, I put on a calf-length, gray, cable-knit sweater dress, black tights, black booties, and my favorite black pea coat. None of these items were designer, but rather what I might sheepishly call designer-adjacent. But when I put on a dash of garnet-red lipstick and some mascara, I thought it all looked pretty good. I came out of the bathroom in my outfit and Chase let out a low whistle.

“Damn,” he swore, shaking his head. “You look fantastic.”

“You think so?” I asked. I bit my lip, looking down at my ensemble. Chase sauntered over to me and pulled me into his arms.

“Yes. Absolutely. And if you hadn’t just put on that lipstick, I’d kiss you,” he murmured.

“Stupid lipstick,” I giggled. “I’ll toss it in the trash if it means you’ll kiss me more.”

“Oh, don’t toss it. I’m a gentleman. I can wait,” he promised. He gave me a wink and took my hand. “Let’s go. I’m ready to hear all about your plans.”

I led him downstairs to the restaurant first, where we got a cup of coffee and sat down by the massive window. “So, first of all, this restaurant needs some help,” I told him quietly. The last thing I wanted was to upset my current kitchen staff by announcing to the world how terrible they were. After all, it wasn’t really their fault. They weren’t awful by most standards, but they couldn’t stand up to the quality of Chef Louis.

“I agree,” Chase noted. “What do you think would help? Hiring new staff?”

I glanced around nervously, hoping no one heard him. “No, no. I can’t do that to them. My kitchen staff are all such wonderful people,” I told him fervently. “It’s not their fault they don’t meet the standard. None of them have much gourmet training. Even the head chef is a culinary school drop-out.”

“That does n

ot bode well. Are you sure you want to keep them?” Chase prodded. I could tell what his suggestion was. Fire them all and start over. But I just couldn’t do that. Maybe I was too soft, but I prided myself on being a compassionate boss.

“Yes. But my plan is to bring in a training chef. A good one. Who will teach them all how to do better. It’s not that they aren’t all very hard workers. They do their best. They take pride in their work, really. They just need someone with more experience to guide them,” I explained.

Chase smiled. “You would do that for them? Take the hard way and build them up rather than just cutting your losses and hiring five-star chefs?”

I nodded. “Yes. It’s how I do business. My father would’ve wanted it that way. He always told me that guests are friends, but staff is family. We take care of each other here, with or without the money.”

“You are truly the most fascinating business woman I’ve ever met,” he commented.

“Is that a compliment or an insult?” I asked. I raised an eyebrow.

Chase chuckled. “Definitely a compliment. I think I could learn a thing or two from you. All of my hotels are strictly business-only. I take a hands-off, detached approach. When you own so many properties, it’s difficult to really get to know your people. But you… I see the way your employees look at you. Look to you. Like you’re their friend or their mother or something.”

I shrugged. “Well, this place is my home. My life. The people who work here are basically family at this point. For the Peppertree to succeed, I want everyone to succeed. Not just me. You know?”

“I do now,” he replied fondly. “So, what’s next?”

We headed out of the building and down to the defunct ski lift. Chase almost visibly winced at the broken-down machinery. “Yeah. I know,” I sighed. “It’s bad. These things cost a lot of money to operate.”

“Yes, they do,” he agreed. “But let me take care of that.”

“Really?” I asked, incredulous. Chase laughed.

“Of course. Isn’t that why I’m here? You know the Peppertree better than anyone. If you want something fixed, I will get it fixed. Besides, this location is perfect for skiing. Without a functional lift, you won’t be taking advantage of the property’s value,” he reasoned. “In fact, I would make this the first priority. Then the restaurant.”

“Then redesigning the suites,” I added, hoping that wasn’t too much to ask.

“Definitely,” he said, a little too quickly.

“Oh. They’re that bad, huh?”

Chase hugged me. “They’re not terrible. But I can tell they have not been updated since the late nineties. That’s not great. A beautiful location like this needs an update. The property has so much potential to be a truly desirable destination. Just look at this view.”

He gestured broadly in front of us. I smiled into the cold wind as I looked out over the snowy mountains and the valley below, tick with fir trees.