Page 2 of The Billionaire's Proposal

“Do you boys need my help?” I ask, continuing to film their battle with the fish they are now calling Jim.

“Come on, Jim,” they say on repeat.

“If you want to go home with this one, you…”

He cuts me off. “I don’t need your help.” The other two men take over holding the rod as he approaches me. He runs his fingers through his thick, loose hair.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” I say, frustrated because when people catch big fish, they tell the world by posting on social media, and then my business gets flooded with bookings. It’s obvious that won’t happen today.

His tongue sweeps over the seam of his lips. “It’s called patience. Persistence. The feeling of accomplishment.” Holy mother of Jesus, his words drape over me as he leans in, hovering over my ear. “Haven’t you ever wanted something so bad, you would do anything to get it?”

The innuendo sinks into my skin, and my heartbeat runs wild. When I’m finally able to speak, I say, “Then let me get the tuna to the surface with the boat.”

His lips twitch, and I feel his interest blanketing me.

“Nah. The easy way isn’t fun. It’s the chase.”

I swear to God, he winks at me through the dark lenses.

Two hours later, the five of us return without a fish. I dock the boat, while Orlando expertly ties it to the bitt, securing the boat in place.

The disappointment of not catching any fish is evident in the dejected looks on their faces as they gather their belongings. Mr. Worthington snatches his rain jacket from the middle seat and disembarks.

“Thanks for fishing with Big O Excursions.” My voice is artificially chipper, before mumbling, “At least I didn’t say Told you so.”

I imagine his eyes narrowing through the tinted sunglasses as his jaw clenches. His friend shrugs and mouths, “Sorry.” They fall behind Mr. Worthington as they make their way up the slatted wooden walkway.

Orlando sneaks up beside me, slapping his arm around my shoulders. “Never seen someone so determined to do it himself.”

My head rocks back and forth. “It’s a shame. I think it would have been our biggest catch of the year. Maybe tomorrow’s clients will let me do my job.”

Orlando nods in agreement. “Do you have plans tonight?”

“Yep. Uploading this bad boy video to the website.” A slow-rolling chuckle escapes my throat. “In big letters, WHAT NOT TO DO.”

While I’m updating my website, I look up Mr. Worthington’s booking information; the name seems vaguely familiar, so I ask my friend Google and am shocked at the first photo and caption.

Winslow Worthington. Billionaire Communications Mogul.

Chapter Two

WINSLOW

“All I did was ask for fries that weren’t half-fried and soggy?” I throw my hands up in disbelief, walking to the windows. The ocean is calm, but it reminds me of an enormous tuna that got away, who is, without a doubt, creating chaos beneath the dancing water. That fish fought valiantly until he wore us out. The captain was right. Do you think I told her that? Hell no. Admitting fault or even asking for help is not the Worthington way, at least not mine.

The public relations team sits around the sleek industrial glass and metal conference table. “Winslow, there are at least ten videos that have gone viral of you losing your temper with women doing their jobs. It’s becoming an issue, and the board of directors isn’t happy.”

“Issue an apology and send a basket of… something.”

“You pay me to offer solutions to public relations nightmares. If you screaming at the waitress in the diner was the only viral video, I would suggest an apology but since that video, there have been several more, showing you being pompous or condescending.”

“What do I pay you for? Just fix it.”

Pamela, the public relations director, slides a magazine in my direction. I stop it with two fingers and read the headline.

Brat Billionaire Tears Down Waitress Over Fries

Her assistant scurries from the chairs behind the conference table, opening her laptop and hitting play. She has all of the celebrity sites queued up, hitting play on one after the other. The videos prove my fuse seems to be getting shorter.

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