Valentine’s Billionaire Auction

Chapter 10

10

ROMAN

T he end of the week came fast, but not fast enough for my liking. The stupid video of me scolding the so-called reporter had blown up even more.

Of course.

People were posting pictures of my shoes, suits, my car, everything. They were splashing my private life all over the internet, picking apart every detail as if I were a character in a movie rather than a real person with real feelings.

I saw one video with dollar signs on everything I was wearing along with my Starbucks cup of coffee. It was supposed to be shaming me for being wealthy. I didn’t know why it mattered. Yes, I was rich. Big fucking deal. I liked nice things. I could afford it.

And Starbucks wasn’t even fancy.

I knew they were trying to prove a point. I didn’t need to get pissed the asshole stepped on my two-thousand-dollar shoes because I could buy more.

I sank into the leather chair in my office. I had another board meeting shortly. I wasn’t looking forward to what they had to say. I didn’t feel like I owed them an explanation about my personal life, but they sure as hell expected one. It wasn’t any of their damn business.

But that wasn’t going to stop them from giving me their two cents. With the way the ridiculous story blew up the last few days, I had a feeling they were going to have lots of opinions.

There was a knock on my door. I didn’t say anything.

The door opened. “Mr. Kelly?”

I sighed and looked toward the door. “Yes?”

My new temporary assistant was standing there. She started yesterday and I already knew she wasn’t going to last longer than a week.

She hesitated, fiddling with the edge of a file folder she held tightly against her chest. “The board members are starting to gather in the conference room. They’ve asked if you could join them a bit earlier today.”

“Did they bring doughnuts or something?”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “I don’t know, sir. I can ask.”

“No, that’s alright.” I leaned back in my chair and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Tell them I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Kelly.” She nodded quickly and almost stumbled as she hurried out, closing the door quietly behind her.

It wasn’t that she was a bad assistant, but she was too timid. I knew it was only a matter of time before she declared I was impossible to work for. I would inevitably hurt her feelings with my gruff demeanor. It was the same thing every time.

By the time I walked into the boardroom, I was already irritated. I probably woke up that way if I was being honest. The sun blazed in through the massive windows, reflecting off the polished table where the board sat waiting, their stiff expressions a reminder of how much they loved playing the role of moral compass for Roman Kelly, the man they swore up and down was too much of an asshole for his own good.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said, taking my seat at the head of the table. The air felt too formal, too expectant. It made my skin crawl. My eyes drifted to the windows. I wanted to be out there, away from everyone’s opinions.

Charles, one of the senior members of the board and a guy who rarely spoke unless he had something important to say, leaned forward. “We’ve put together a few strategies for addressing your public image concerns.”

I gave him a flat look. “My public image concerns aren’t my top priority, Charles. The financials for three of our newer ventures are. But sure, let’s hear how you think I can stop the media from painting me as a villain. Maybe you are all in the wrong line of work. You should be working for a PR company. There are plenty of celebrities that could benefit from your expertise.”

Charles was unfazed by my sarcasm, arranging his glasses on the bridge of his nose and referring to his notes. “Well, Roman, whether you prioritize it or not, your image directly impacts our company’s reputation and, by extension, its financial health. It’s all interconnected.”

I turned to look at my VP. “Are you involved in this image repair?”

“I’ve made some suggestions,” he said.

I leaned back, not bothering to hide my disdain for the whole process. I folded my hands behind my head. “Let’s have it.”

They proceeded to pitch their ideas one by one.

First up was a suggestion to “shmooze the public.” I shot that one down before they could even finish.

“I’m not kissing babies at grocery stores or showing up to weddings uninvited like some Hallmark movie character,” I said. “What else?”

The second idea involved some kind of charity tour. A detailed map of events I would attend, complete with photo ops and press releases about how much money I had personally donated.

“No,” I snapped. “I already donate to charity. I just don’t use it as a marketing stunt. I may be an asshole, but even I know better than to brag about my charity. Isn’t there a proverb or something about being humble?”

“But there are plenty of ways you can show your charitable side without getting into all the details.”

I shook my head. “Not happening. I’m not exploiting the charities or the work they do. Next.”

A younger board member looked like he had something to say but was too terrified to speak.

“Just spit it out,” I said. “I don’t think your idea could be any worse than what I’ve already heard.”

He cleared his throat. “I would suggest you try to be ‘warmer’ to the media.”

I laughed. “Let me get this straight: you want me to roll out a welcome mat for the same people who stand outside my building at six in the morning and shove cameras in my face? The same people who’ve gone out of their way to smear my name this week. What have they done for me? Nothing. They’ve done nothing but made my life hell. Pass.”

The silence that followed was heavy. The board members exchanged desperate glances, like a pack of deer realizing their last path to safety was blocked. They could all give me their opinions but each of them knew I was the one that made the final decisions. I was Roman Kelly. I was the company. I could take my toys and go home. I’d still be rich. No skin off my nose.

And then they all looked at Mary.

Mary had been on my board longer than almost anyone. A shrewd, silver-haired woman who didn’t mince words. She was the type who could politely tear you apart in a way that made you thank her for it. I respected her. She was one of the few people I did respect in this world.

She was their secret weapon.

She cleared her throat. “Roman, there’s one option we haven’t discussed yet. It’s unconventional, but it could be the answer to your image problem. It would solve many of your issues, not just the personality.”

I arched a brow. “Oh, this should be good.”

It was just a little insulting to have all these people pointing out my flaws like I was damaged goods. If I was an insecure man, I might have taken offense. But as it was, I could only be intrigued by what Mary thought could polish my tarnished reputation with a single stroke.

“You need to settle down,” she said simply.

The room went dead silent.

“Settle down?” I repeated, leaning back in my chair. “Mary, I’m not a child acting up. What exactly do you mean settle down ? Because I know you aren’t suggesting I behave myself.”

“Actually, yes,” Mary said. “That is what I’m suggesting. You need to settle down and act like a grown man. Do what grown men do.”

“Like, buy a house in the suburbs and get a dog?” I scoffed.

“No, Roman.” I saw the stern look. It was like getting reprimanded by my grandmother. “You need to find a woman. Someone grounded, approachable, kind. Someone who can balance you out.”

I laughed, a deep, genuine laugh that echoed off the walls. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

But when I looked around, I realized she wasn’t. None of them were. Their expressions were somber, like they were talking about the details of a funeral.

“You’re serious?” I asked, incredulous.

“As a heart attack,” Mary said. “Your public persona is abrasive, Roman. People see you as detached, selfish, and cold. Having a partner—a real, steady relationship—would soften your image considerably. It would show the public a different side of you.”

“And help rebuild trust with potential investors,” Charles added.

“You’re insane,” I said. “You think a woman’s going to magically fix all of that?”

“She won’t fix it,” Mary said. “But she’ll make you look more relatable. More human. Soften all of your hard edges. Women tend to do that.”

I stared at her, shaking my head, but the longer I sat there, the more her words started to make sense. As much as I hated to admit it, she was on to something.

An idea began forming in the back of my mind.

I thought about Kaira—the woman who’d bid on me at the auction. Or, more accurately, sneezed. She was a little spitfire, that one. I could still see the flash of anger in her eyes when she’d called me out for being rude to the server. She wasn’t someone who would roll over just because of my name.

She was grounded, approachable, kind. She was also a sympathetic person. She wasn’t some rich snob. People would see me with someone like her and think I wasn’t a pompous prick. I could be normal.

But it wasn’t like I knew how to find Kaira. And she despised me. I didn’t see her willingly agreeing to be my wife—real or otherwise.

But she owed me.

“How are we going to find someone like that?” I heard one of them ask.

“She exists,” I said out loud, more to myself than to the room.

“What?” Mary asked.

“The woman you’re describing. I know someone who fits the bill. I know the woman that would soften my image, as you say.”

They looked intrigued but skeptical.

“She’s not a professional, is she?” Charles said.

I smirked. “No. She’s perfect. Sweet, normal, and, most importantly, she’s got the guts to call me out when I need it.”

“And she’s willing to play along with this?” Mary asked.

“She will be,” I said.

“That sounds ominous,” one of the younger members muttered.

“I’ll have her here for your consideration on Monday. I just need to talk to her first.”

Mary chuckled. “Roman, we don’t need to approve your choice of partner. This isn’t an arranged marriage.”

“I think it is a good idea we meet her,” Charles said. Mary frowned, but the two of them exchanged a look. “Just to be safe.”

I nodded, the gears in my mind spinning. “Fine. Let’s make it official then. I’ll bring Kaira here on Monday, and you can see for yourselves how well she balances me out.”

That seemed to make everyone happy. There were nods all around.

“Then it’s settled,” I said. “I’m off to bag me a woman.”

When I left the meeting, my mood was split between smugness and irritation. Smug because I had a plan. Irritated because it meant dealing with the media circus outside.

Again.

The second I stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby, I could feel the tension. Just beyond the doors was the waiting feeding frenzy. I could go out the back, but I wasn’t one to shy away. I wasn’t about to let them send me running into the shadows.

I pushed open the doors and stepped into the LA sunshine. The buzz of cameras and voices met me. By the time I reached my car, they were swarming.

“Mr. Kelly, have you attacked anyone else today?”

“Roman, how much is too much for a pair of shoes?”

“Is it true your steroid use is making you rage?”

“Do you have a love child with Miley Cyrus?”

I stopped by the car door, fixing them with my most dazzling smile. “I’d love to stand here and chat, but I’ve got places to be. Stay tuned for Monday, though. I have an announcement to make. You’re warmly invited to cover it.”

The flash of cameras lit up like fireworks as I climbed into the car.

By Monday, I would need to convince Kaira to play her part. And if she said no?

Well, she owed me one. She’d have to say yes.