Married To My Billionaire Rival (Billionaires of San Valentino #2)

1. Lauren

LAUREN

Lauren Maddox took a slow, deep breath.

“You can do this,” she whispered.

“Did you say something?” The driver raised her gaze to look at Lauren in the rearview mirror, and Lauren flushed.

At thirty, she should really have broken the habit of talking to herself out loud, but it was easier said than done.

In stressful situations, it was one way to stay calm — and this was certainly a stressful situation.

“No, no. Thank you.”

You can do this, she repeated, silently this time. You’re just as good as these guys. No, you’re better. You’ve got this.

Still, nerves roiled in her stomach as the car approached The Victorian, the glitzy hotel where tonight’s networking event was being held.

It would be filled with San Valentino’s richest and most powerful, from tech company CEOs to entertainment stars to PR professionals like Lauren.

Well, not exactly like Lauren. Most PR professionals in San Valentino built on family connections, famous names, and generational wealth to catch clients, but Lauren didn’t have any of that.

She had to attract clients through her own merit.

Lauren looked down at her dress. It was blue, fitted on top with a flared skirt, and absolutely gorgeous.

Still, when she’d bought it, she almost fainted at the price.

Lauren could afford things like this — for now.

But she hadn’t come from money or from connections.

Everything she had, she’d built herself, and despite all her hard work, it remained precarious.

One wrong move would mean that everything fell apart.

In the rearview mirror, Lauren checked her makeup.

Her blue eyes were framed by naturally long lashes, and her blond curls were pulled up into a half-up, half-down style that framed her round face.

Her cheeks were flecked with freckles that she’d done her best to cover with concealer.

People tended to take her less seriously when they noticed them, and she needed to be taken seriously tonight.

People often remarked that she looked too “sweet” to be a cutthroat professional. Lauren made them eat their words.

“Here we are.” The driver pulled to a stop in front of The Victorian.

“Thank you.” Lauren picked up her handbag and slid out of the car.

Tilting her head back, she took in the enormous entryway to the hotel.

It was lined by giant columns as thick as redwoods.

Warm lights lined the street on either side, cutting through the growing darkness.

The massive double doors were thrown open, and people were streaming in.

Lauren took another deep breath and entered.

All these networking events were filled with pressure.

Lauren almost never made a misstep, but tonight, she had to do more than be perfect.

She’d just finished a contract with a long-term, high-paying client, and if she didn’t land a new one, she was going to be in trouble.

It was about more than just financial gain; Lauren was Canadian, and her work visa depended on a steady income.

The clients who usually hired her for small projects now and then just weren’t enough without someone bigger, especially now that she’d heard rumors of changing visa requirements.

“You can do this,” Lauren whispered. “You can.”

“Did you say something?” A young woman draped in pearls gave Lauren an odd look.

“No, no.” Lauren really had to stop talking out loud. “Have we met? I’m Lauren Maddox.”

“Kelly Jennings.” The woman nodded. Her lips were as red as rubies. “What do you do?”

“I run Sunflower PR. We’re a small company that offers bespoke services to our clients. You never have to worry about being lost in the crowd with us. Are you looking for PR representation?” Lauren started walking toward the entrance again, and Kelly fell into step beside her.

“No.” Kelly tossed her hair. “I have a PR company already. Maybe you know them. Pembrook PR?”

Lauren winced. Pembrook PR was her biggest rival.

They were a large, well-established company that often went after the same clients she did.

The worst part of the company was the CEO, James Pembrook.

An old-money professional who knew almost everyone in San Valentino, he was always snagging clients right out from under her nose. And he was always gloating about it.

“Are you satisfied with them?” Lauren asked. She leaned a little closer. “I hear that they’ve been losing lots of clients lately because of poor service.”

It wasn’t exactly true, but Lauren hated James just enough to bend the truth.

“Really?” Kelly’s big brown eyes widened. “I didn’t know. Maybe I should take your card.”

“Of course.” Lauren handed over her card. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to reach out.”

“Thanks.” Kelly headed inside, and Lauren fell back as she bit back a smile. She wasn’t even inside the venue yet, and she’d already found a potential client. Even better, she might be able to steal one of James’s clients, which would feel great.

She really could do this.

Inside, Lauren gave her coat to a valet and took a glass of champagne from a waiter, thanking him with a smile.

She took a sip of the cool, bubbly liquid as she scanned the room.

Some people stood at tables on the far wall with plates of hors d’oeuvres.

Others were mingling in small groups, admiring the string quartet playing in the corner, or bidding on pieces of art.

The artwork was ostensibly the reason for the event, though everyone knew the night was much more about connections than about paintings.

Lauren took a deep, steadying breath. She was tempted to start talking to herself again, but she didn’t.

“Caleb!” She spotted a familiar face and wound through the crowd. Caleb, a silver-haired man with a bright smile, turned to her.

“Lauren, how are you?”

“As well as ever.” She smiled. “How are you? How’s Stevie?”

“Oh, he’s wonderful.” Caleb beamed at the mention of his first grandchild. “He just turned two, can you believe it?”

“Hardly.” Lauren shook her head. “I bet he’s keeping his parents’ hands full at that age.”

“Absolutely.” Caleb pulled out his phone to show her a picture. “There he is.”

“Adorable.” Lauren smiled at the image of the chubby-cheeked little boy covered in tomato sauce and beaming broadly.

“Thank you.” Caleb grinned. “You know, it’s good I ran into you. We’re looking for a PR firm to do a little piecework for us on a new arthritis medicine.” Caleb ran a large pharmaceutical company. “Would you submit a bid?”

“Of course.” Lauren nodded. “I’d be happy to.

” Piecework like this was her bread and butter — small projects that were beneath the notice of larger PR companies.

As happy as she was to find another potential project, this wasn’t what she needed out of the evening. Nothing but a big contract would do.

“I’ll forward you the one-pager.”

“I look forward to it.”

They chatted a little more, mostly about Stevie and a little about the project, before Lauren said her goodbyes and continued weaving through the crowd.

She was happy that Caleb had thought of her for the project; she’d always liked him, and he had been one of the first clients to take a chance on a brand-new PR professional more than five years ago. Still, she needed something bigger.

By the time Lauren had made her first lap around the room, she was feeling almost unstoppable.

She’d chatted up quite a few existing contacts and made some new ones.

Lauren even heard a little more about an upcoming contract with Omial, a growing local tech company that was planning to hire a PR team for a long-term consultancy.

Lauren had started working on her proposal a few weeks ago, and she hung on to each new detail for later.

She needed this contract badly. It would be exactly the thing to secure her place in San Valentino for at least another year.

Plus, it would bring her PR company more awareness, which would, in turn, bring in bigger clients.

Still, Lauren knew she’d be in competition with much bigger and better-known companies for the contract, hence her presence here tonight to find more details and a potential alternative.

“Look who it is.”

The familiar drawl froze Lauren’s blood, and she turned slowly toward the voice. It was James Pembrook, CEO of Pembrook PR, Lauren’s biggest rival.

“James. Fancy meeting you here.”

“You as well.” James closed the distance between them.

He wore a tailored suit that perfectly outlined his broad shoulders and impressive height.

His brown hair was effortlessly perfect, as always, and his brown eyes glinted as though they were sharing a joke.

Though the two of them never shared anything beyond a mutual dislike.

“Shouldn’t you be under your desk crying because I won the Kelligy contract?

” Lauren asked brightly. Their firms had been competing over a small contract with Kelligy, a baked goods company, for a few weeks, and she’d emerged victorious.

It wasn’t big enough to ensure that she could stay financially viable and in the country, but it was something. Plus, she always enjoyed beating James.

“Wow.” James shook his head. “And I thought Canadians were supposed to be nice. Aren’t you all ‘aboot’ politeness?”

“Mocking me for being Canadian.” Lauren shook her head sadly. “You’re really running out of content, aren’t you? I suppose your lack of creativity is why I keep stealing your clients.”

“I’m not running out of content at all.” James straightened the edges of his jacket. “I just have to remind you that you’re basically from the North Pole every now and then.”

“Good thing PR doesn’t seem to require basic geography, or you’d lose the rest of your clients,” Lauren volleyed back. Despite herself, she was enjoying this. All night, with all her contacts, she’d been schmoozy and polite. With James, she could let out her frustration and just mock him.

“No, it doesn’t,” James agreed. “It just requires connections, savvy, and a little spark. All of which I have.” He raised one perfect eyebrow. It always annoyed Lauren that every part of him was perfect, even those eyebrows.

“I can never believe how full of yourself you are. Is your house filled with paintings and statues of you?”

“It certainly isn’t filled with paintings of moose and poutine, like yours must be.”

“And you’re back to mocking Canada again. Sad.”

“You know, you’re very defensive of your homeland for someone who’s been living here for almost a decade. Are you planning to go back to Canada soon? Perhaps for an extended visit?”

Lauren’s stomach lurched. That one hit close to home. She was always a month away from being sent back — a month and one wrong choice. Still, she wasn’t about to let her biggest rival see her squirm.

“Who would steal your clients then?” she asked sweetly. “No, I think I have to stay in San Valentino to give the people who are sick of Pembrook PR and your ilk a better alternative.”

James flashed a grin. “If everyone loves you so much, how come I win most contracts we compete over?”

“Most? I don’t think so.”

Lauren knew she should end this conversation and go make more connections.

In fact, there was a CEO of an entertainment company just a few steps away, already on his fifth glass of champagne.

It would be all too easy to convince him he needed her to represent him.

Lauren ignored the voice of reason, though.

She didn’t want to end this conversation, not yet.

It was the first time all night that her nerves had really evaporated. And it was fun to mock and tease James, knowing that he was exactly the kind of entitled jerk that deserved every negative word she had to say to him.

When she’d first met James, a few months after moving to San Valentino, she’d found him intimidating.

He’d been a speaker at an event she was attending, and he’d spoken with the kind of confidence that only came from decades of family wealth.

At the time, Lauren’s PR company was barely off the ground, and she’d yet to land a major client.

After the talk, she’d approached James, hoping to ask for tips.

As soon as she’d spoken to him, though, she’d realized there was no way she’d ask for his help. Ever. He’d been so condescending. It was as though he’d thought he was talking to a child or a not-too-intelligent dog.

“So, you want to start your own company?” he’d asked.

“That’s right.”

He’d let out a snort. “That’s a fool’s errand. Look for a job in PR,” he’d told her. “I have some entry-level openings at my company. Apply for one of those. There are too many PR companies in San Valentino anyway. There’s no room for another one. Especially from an outsider. No offense.”

His words had made Lauren’s blood boil. Right then, she’d decided to make James see her as an equal.

“Maybe an outsider is exactly what you need,” Lauren had replied. “Just wait. I’ll steal all your clients.”

James had laughed. “I like your spirit. I’ll forward you a job application.”

Lauren had deleted the email without reading it and gone to look for office space the same day.

Now, though Sunflower was still small, it was powerful enough to put pressure on big companies like Pembrook PR.

And, now and then, it was powerful enough to actually steal clients from them.

The last few years had changed the balance of power in San Valentino, and no matter what happened next, Lauren would always be proud of that.

That was something.