Page 68 of The Bourbon Bride

First comes love, then comes marriage is certainly right. Sources close to billionaire Hayes Olsen confirm, to the despair of women throughout Georgia, that he is no longer Atlanta’s most eligible bachelor and is now wedded to hotel heiress Paige Fairchild. A quick day trip to Las Vegas sealed the deal between Fairchild and Olsen after a whirlwind week-long romance that was full of danger (read our recap of the carjacking he warded off a few days ago) and black-tie affairs. They stepped out publicly as a couple at the Underworld Spirits launch party just one day before their hasty marriage. The launch of Olsen’s newest business venture was the most exclusive and talked about event of the year, thanks in part to the newly-in-love couple’s PDA-filled appearance.

What sounds like a fairy tale come to life has transpired over the course of their short relationship and we’ll be watching for any news to come from their camp to share about any possible larger wedding ceremonies or events. With the way these two move, a baby in a baby carriage may be next for these love birds! Hit Like and Subscribe for all the latest Haute Gossip so you never miss a story.

twenty-seven

Hayes

DrivingontoTheMansion’ssprawling grounds in the Maybach allows me to admire the Spanish moss-draped trees, tidy lawns bordering the drive, and beautiful gardens that instantly caught my eye when I stayed here years ago. I park the sleek car by the statement-making marble fountain in the courtyard flanked by bright hydrangeas, vibrant azaleas, heady-smelling gardenias, towering magnolias, and oaks that must be a century old.

The valet just nods in resignation as I pocket the keys to the one-off Exelero, not about to insist I let him drive the multimillion-dollar car. I survey the luxurious facade of the gorgeous property as I mount the steps to the grand entrance of the estate-turned-hotel. It really is show-stopping. The lobby is full of marble and velvet, hinting at the historic past while being fully updated for modern convenience. Part of the appeal of this property is that it’s turn-key and a real focal point for our eastern contingent of boutique hotels.

“Hayes Olsen to see Mr. Fairchild,” I say to the concierge.

She picks up her phone and speaks a few hushed words across the line before settling it back on the cradle.

“He’s in a meeting currently. Would you mind waiting a moment? They should be breaking for lunch soon.”

I nod, having anticipated this, though I hate waiting for anything or anyone. I gather the patience Paige has recently taught me and move to a plush seating area near the quiet bar full of polished furniture and dark fabrics. I check their shelves and feel a satisfied smile lift my lips when I see a few bottles of Underworld Spirits already prominently displayed on their top shelf. The roll-out is happening as we speak, the mile-long waiting list for the exclusive liquors getting the small shipments we allow.

After about fifteen minutes of studying the lobby and taking in the seamless flow of the check-in desk and the speedy staff, the concierge comes to get me.

“If you’ll follow me, sir, I’ll take you to Mr. Fairchild’s office.”

She leads me through a lavishly decorated hallway off the lobby to an executive office suite richly appointed with masculine furniture, towering bookshelves, and an air of authority. She holds the door to the office open and allows me to walk through before closing it behind me. The office makes me feel right at home, though I could never see Paige working in a place like this, as she is light and frilly, not dark and stuffy.

“Mr. Fairchild,” I say in greeting. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I understand your schedule is quite busy today.”

He motions to a chair across the large desk and sits back in his big leather chair with steepled fingers.

“Hayes, you can just call me William,” he replies stiffly as I sit. “Interesting to see you again so soon. I was a bit surprised to hear you wanted a meeting with me.”

“Yes, it’s quite pressing, actually. I would never mix business with family time, so I felt it better to schedule something where we could speak man to man, rather than bog down an already heavy dinner with business.”

He leans forward slowly and rests his elbows on the gleaming surface of the desk.

“You want to talk business?” He gives me an appraising look and I remain the epitome of calm and collected.

“I have a gift I’d like to give you. I think you will find it quite valuable. Consider it a wedding present, from a grateful husband to his new father-in-law.”

He waves his hand jerkily in the air as he closes his eyes tightly and opens them with a look of trepidation.

“Talk straight with me, Olsen, I don’t have time to beat around the bush.”

“Paige told me the reason you wanted to marry her off to Garrison was to integrate the Thackery Agriculture investments and move into textiles through Daniels Industries processing plants. Well, Daniels Industries is yours. I bought the entire manufacturing outfit and subsidiaries yesterday. I thought you could run the show far better than they were, and not have the pain-in-the-ass rapist for a son-in-law or be joined as business partners with the enabling and unscrupulous people he calls parents.”

“You bought them out and are giving the entire outfit to me,” he articulates slowly.

“Yes, sir. I have the documents ready to sign over the entire enterprise to you today. You can run it however you’d like, keeping the staff or replacing them at your discretion. You can even rename it Fairchild Industries, if you’d like. The Daniels name needs to be stamped out of Savannah completely, and what better way to do it than by replacing it with the Fairchild name as a testament to your steadfast influence and leadership.”

I place my hand suggestively on the leather briefcase beside me. His eyes follow the movements and I see his throat work as he swallows. It’s quite the tempting proposal for any business-minded man.

“You’ve proven to have sound business practices that have grown a single luxury hotel into a prosperous hotel group, so I know you’ll be able to turn the Thackery Agriculture investments into the textile empire it’s meant to be with this small addition to your own portfolio.”

He crosses his arms and sends me a menacing look.

“Small addition? Cut the bullshit. I know you want something from me. Out with it.”

I rest my elbow on the plush arm of the chair and cross my ankle over my knee as I lean back.

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