Ella And The Billionaire's Ball (Once Upon A Billionaire Book 2) Read online

  Ella and the Billionaire's Ball

  A Once Upon a Billionaire Romance

  Catelyn Meadows

  BOOKS BY CATELYN MEADOWS

  ONCE UPON A BILLIONAIRE SERIES

  Goldie and the Billionaire Bear

  Ella and the Billionaire’s Ball

  Alice and the Billionaire’s Wonderland

  Rosabel and the Billionaire Beast

  Hazel and Her Billionaire Tower

  Aaliyah and the Billionaire’s Lamp

  MAGIC VALLEY ROMANCE

  Billionaires and Big Deals

  CLEAN CHRISTMAS ROMANCE

  All I Want for Christmas

  Copyright © 2019 Cortney Pearson

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, printing, recording, or otherwise—without the prior permission of the author, except for use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, incidents, or events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Beta Read by Scarlett West

  Copy Edited/Proofread by Sara Olds with Salt & Sage Books

  Proofread by Lisa Lee

  Cover Design & Interior Formatting by Qamber Designs and Media

  Author Photo by Clayton Photo + Design

  www.catelynmeadows.blogspot.com

  CHAPTER ONE

  Ella Embers wasn’t sure how anyone had ever survived without earbuds. She’d thought it over a hundred times as she emptied garbage cans she hadn’t filled, vacuumed bits of popcorn and paper she hadn’t spilled, or cleaned bathrooms she’d never used. She’d never make it through such menial tasks without music or a decent podcast.

  Cleaning had to be done before Ever After Sweet Shoppe’s business hours blinked awake, before consultants and marketing gurus, accountants, and who knew who else worked here decided to trudge more dirt on the carpet for her to take care of the next day.

  Not seen. Not heard. Just clean. That was the company’s motto, coined by Stina, Ella’s ever-diligent stepmother who also happened to own the company hired by Ever After to keep its corporate offices clean. The motto didn’t always apply, not when many times she and the others on the crew had varying schedules and some ended up staying until closer to lunch time to finish their tasks.

  Usually, Ella didn’t mind that she was nothing more than a glorified maid. She got paid better than a maid—that was a perk. Money and earbuds made this otherwise tedious occupation tolerable.

  Ella sang in time to Blue Christmas as Michael Bublé crooned straight into her ears. She didn’t care about being overheard, not at such an early hour and not in Hawk Danielson’s office. He wasn’t likely to be there before noon. Plenty of time for her to clean what she needed to and duck out.

  Situated on the top level of his billion-dollar, corporate office building, Mr. Danielson’s suite was more like a hotel suite than a stuffy workplace. Her entire apartment could fit into the main area, where she was pretty sure no one needed that much space to sit and stare at a computer screen.

  Another room adjoined, complete with a futon and a closet stuffed with clothes in case Mr. Danielson decided he loved work so much he didn’t want to go home. And the bathroom could accommodate enough cots to provide living quarters for an entire family.

  Still, she was the only one up here, and she belted out Bublé in her jazziest impersonation as she dipped her mop into the sudsy water, then pulled the handle on the yellow bucket’s squeegee, and wrung the extra water from the mop’s stringy head. Just as Ella was ready to swab the already sparklingly clean bathroom tile, her earbud was unceremoniously plucked from her ear.

  Ella spun, losing her grip on the mop handle. The wood smacked against the mirror, and she jerked a look of panic toward the glass. That was all she needed, to break the billionaire’s mirror.

  The appearance of Pris, her stepsister, had all the effect of a dozen Red Bulls on her concentration.

  “Clumsy, aren’t we?” Pris said, tossing the loose earbud in Ella’s direction. It hit her cheek.

  Ella removed the other earbud in exasperation. “Did you need something?”

  Pris folded her arms over her matching gray jumpsuit with her mother’s company logo on the breast pocket. Malus Custodial Management. She’d swept her dark hair into a ponytail. “Mom sent me to tell you to hurry up. She wants everyone to finish early today.”

  “She does? Why?”

  Pris rolled her eyes. “I’ve already delivered the message. I guess you’ll find out with the rest of us—assuming you don’t break anything in the meantime.”

  Pris skewered a glare at the mop bucket as though it had caused her some personal offense before adding, “And keep it down, would you? You’re as bad as Charlotte. I heard you all the way in shipping.”

  Charlotte, Pris’s “other” (real) sister, tended to crow her own rendition of whatever song had just played on the radio whenever she felt like it. Maybe that was when Ella had started wearing earbuds…

  Somehow, Pris managed to swagger even in her baggy jumpsuit and sneakers, as though she wore elegant heels and a businessy pencil skirt and top instead as she sashayed from the room.

  “Glad we had that little chat,” Ella said in her stepsister’s wake.

  They’d never gotten along from the time Pris’s mom had married Ella’s dad, but the whole mess with Derek—a friend Ella had been seeing two years before—had really put Ella on Pris’s hit list. No matter what her stepsister thought, Ella hadn’t done anything to encourage Derek’s attention. And she’d broken it off with him for Pris. What more did she want?

  Ella finished mopping the luxurious bathroom, set the mop in the bucket, and braced the handle to roll the entire contraption from tile to carpet. She took care in double-checking areas, ensuring no rags or spare garbage bags had been left behind before heading toward the set of light switches by the door.

  A patch of dust on the shelf caught her eye. Ella moved the picture frame aside, swiped the dust with the cloth dangling from her pocket, and allowed herself a few fleeting moments to gaze at the luscious billionaire’s company photo contained in the frame.

  His dark suit offset his blue eyes and dreamy features. One hand was propped along the banister behind him. Ella was already warm in her jumpsuit, but the sight of his photo set a match to her blood. Hawk Danielson. Yeesh, he was good-looking. He gave a whole new meaning to the words candy man.

  “Come on,” she breathed, returning the photo to its place. “Better get down there before Stina sends someone else after me.”

  The sun rising over Westville, Vermont, was visible through wide glass windows on the way to the elevator. It cast splashes of orange to counterbalance the sparkling white snow below. Ella wheeled the bucket to the custodial closet on the twelfth floor, emptied its contents—spilling water into her shoe and saturating her sock in the process—and hung the damp mop to dry over the floor-sink before locking the closet behind her.

  She descended to the lowest level in the building where the main custodial breakroom was located. The other employees roosted on the long, wooden bench in front of a line of lockers where Ella and the others secured their belongings.

  Pris and Charlotte were already settled beside a few of the others. Their mother, Stina, was the only one of the crew not decked out in the oh-so-fashio
nable gray jumpsuits. Instead, she wore a white blouse with black, flowy pants, heels, and her usual sneer of dissatisfaction at the sight of Ella.

  “There you are.” She didn’t add the word, but “finally” was evident in her tone.

  Stina began to pace before the crew. Arms folded, heels clacking, she paraded her position as custodial company owner with pride. Malus Custodial Management was her baby.

  “I’ve gotten a report from Hawk Danielson. It isn’t often the owner of the company contacts me directly, but there have been reports of missing office supplies. As the only ones in this building—besides security—who carry keys that can access any room, naturally, they are suspecting the thief to be one of you.”

  The tension in the room strung tighter than last year’s jeans.

  “But we don’t all have access to every key,” Charlotte argued. “We’re assigned keys for the day, depending on which area we’re cleaning.”

  A few others nodded their agreement.

  Ella’s foot began to jiggle under the accusation. “Have they checked surveillance of the areas where things went missing from?”

  “They have,” Stina said. “But it seems the feed has been deleted. An odd thing, definitely. They’re still trying to figure out who’s been accessing the cameras.”

  “What’s missing?” Charlotte asked.

  “Reams of paper,” Stina said. “Along with print cartridges and a few tablets that were purchased for employee use. A new order was delivered, and the packaging was opened before management had even noticed. That means someone was in Distribution, someone with access others don’t have.”

  “We’ll keep an eye out,” Ella assured her, hoping to end this lecture sooner rather than later. She liked the idea of being suspected for something she didn’t do about as much as a bout of the flu. This made her feel just as nauseous.

  Stina’s heels stopped clacking right in front of her. Ella’s entire body clenched. She hated it when Stina singled her out in front of everyone. If only she could melt into the lockers behind her.

  “See that you do,” Stina said in a too-sweet voice. “I’d hate for your job to be at risk.”

  Ella’s gut twisted. Why did that sound like a threat?

  Slowly, Ella gathered enough courage to lift her gaze to her stepmother’s. Stina’s eyes narrowed in a way she was all too familiar with. She couldn’t possibly think Ella would stoop low enough to steal anything, let alone office supplies, and to compromise a camera feed? She was a seamstress, not a criminal mastermind.

  Speaking of which, Ella glanced at the clock. Eight-thirty a.m. was looming nearer by the second.

  Ella was meeting with one of Ever After Sweet Shoppe’s secretaries, Samantha Holbrook, about some fabric donations for the kids at the children’s hospital first thing that morning. Samantha had heard about her project for the hospital and happened to have some extra material on hand she wanted to contribute to the cause.

  Stina skulked back to her desk. Done for the day, crew members began zipping out of their jumpsuits, slipping them off to reveal their everyday clothes beneath, and stuffing them into their lockers. Ella started to do the same when Stina called her name.

  That sound had the effect of hearing a fire engine and realizing it was headed to her house. Ella zipped her jumpsuit up once more, steeled herself, and approached Stina’s desk.

  “You called?”

  “Yes, just one more thing. We’ve gotten a request from Highland Heights Apartments. They want to have their units ready to show Christmas Day.”

  Since Stina’s independently owned company also provided custodial services for other establishments apart from Ever After Sweet Shoppe, being assigned to clean other places wasn’t that unusual. This pronouncement, however, made time tick louder in her ears.

  “Christmas Day?”

  “It’s part of their promo to get people moving in right after the holidays They’ve hired a light service and want each of their units spic and span. I told them we could accommodate their needs.”

  “By working on Christmas?” That meant she’d have to start working by at least midnight for the units to be ready to be shown in the morning.

  “You have somewhere better to be?” Stina crooked a single brow.

  Ella swallowed. Stupidly, she’d been hoping for an invitation to the family’s Christmas lunch, the way Stina used to do before the whole Pris and Derek fallout. But she hadn’t been included in any family gatherings since that had happened.

  Just as well, she supposed, especially if Stina was expecting her to work. Even if she finished cleaning the units in time, she wouldn’t be able to rest and ready herself for their fancy event.

  If her mom was still alive, her dad would never have stood for this. Ella wanted to brush her hair back, straighten her shoulders, and stand up to Stina, to tell her where to go and how fast to get there, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Stina was the master at wielding the weapon of sarcasm. Her quips came faster, whereas Ella could only think of what to say after the matter was finished. After it was too late.

  “Are Charlotte and Pris coming too?” Ella asked, though she already knew the answer.

  “What do you think?” Stina gave a pointed, sassy smirk before stalking out.

  “Sorry I asked,” Ella said to the once-again empty breakroom.

  Two years. She hadn’t been invited to celebrate Christmas at her dad’s house for two years. She couldn’t believe her stepsister still blamed Ella for her breakup with Derek. Sure, Ella had dated him after he’d ended things with Pris, but that hadn’t been planned, nor had it lasted long. From the way Pris acted, anyone would have thought Ella had gotten between Pris and Derek while they’d still been dating, which wasn’t the case at all.

  Ella attempted to brush it off. Grandma Larsen, her late mother’s mom, had caught wind of it last year. She’d invited Ella to celebrate Christmas with her. Hopefully, Grammy would again.

  “I’d rather spend it with her anyway,” Ella told herself as she removed her sneakers, unzipped, and stepped out of the jumpsuit. Knowing she should fold it nicely, she wadded it into a lump instead. She had to take her frustration out on something. Might as well be something that couldn’t feel.

  Ella wished she’d had the forethought to pack a dry pair of socks with her as well, but who would have guessed she’d spill water all over her foot? Ignoring it as best she could, she adjusted her black undershirt and retrieved the red blouse hanging in her locker. Ordinarily, she wore pajamas beneath her jumpsuit, but she had to look half-decent if she was going to be meeting Samantha to get that fabric.

  Changing quickly into nice jeans, and the button-up red blouse, Ella slipped her arms into the sleeves of her winter coat. She dusted powder on her cheeks, whipped on some mascara and eyeliner, fluffed her hair, and grabbed her purse before popping back up to the third floor.

  The meet-up didn’t take long. Samantha had the bag ready and waiting by her office door. Ella thanked her and made her way back to the elevator.

  This was perfect. With this donation, she wouldn’t have to beeline to the store for anything else before Christmas. The kids in the hospital would each have a colorful new pillowcase Christmas morning.

  Stitches for Sierra, Ella’s non-profit charity organization, was the one thing that brought her true happiness, especially at this time of year. She needed this after Stina’s stingy displeasure.

  Carrying the heavy fabric, Ella struggled toward the elevator across from the stairs. A man in a suit stepped into it before she reached it. Ella quickened her pace.

  “Hold the elevator!” she called.

  His hand shot out, stopping it from closing. Ella dashed inside, only to find herself face-to-face with the man she’d been ogling not an hour before.

  She’d never met Ever After Sweet Shoppe’s owner, but wowee, was he better looking in person. The picture captured his tan and the blaze of crystal blue in his eyes, but now, seeing those eyes up close and personal
had a sugary-spiked effect on her blood pressure.

  They had the full force of a storm, unavoidable and impossible to not feel once she was submersed in it. She was being doused by a downpour, and it pooled all the way into her shoes.

  Oh, wait. That was her wet sock. Still, his direct glance did something to her.

  Ella’s cheeks blazed as though she stood beneath stage lights. She couldn’t believe it. She’d just stepped into the elevator with Hawk Danielson.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Work was busy enough without adding theft into the mix.

  Ever After Sweet Shoppe had become a national brand in just a few decades. Hawk had never been one to eat much candy himself, but his father had hailed back to the Willie Wonka-style sweet shops, where kids could pause for an hour with their friends and sit at a bar to order their favorite taffy or ice cream sundae, where various confections were offered in vending style, filled by the bagful at the customer’s behest and sold by the pound.

  His marketing team was talking about commercializing. Going big, packaging the brand to be sold in the big-box stores across the country. But Hawk liked the idea of his father’s boutique stores, of them being something not quite so mainstream. He’d branched out, setting up shops all across the eastern seaboard and throughout the southern United States as well.

  Everything Ever After Sweet Shoppe offered—toffee, peanut brittle, divinity—were old family recipes that his father had streamlined for mass production. The shops were now well-known secrets that had made appearances in magazines and been featured on Food Network for their charm and personal, hometown-feel.

  While that had been pretty amazing—and had certainly helped with sales and exposure—his marketing team had it in their heads that more exposure was the way to go. Hawk knew they had a point. Hershey had done it. He’d distributed in stores all over the world. He’d even established a town where his factory made the very air chocolate-scented.