All of Your Business Read online

  Copyright 2017 by F. E. Greene

  ISBN: 978-1-946216-20-5

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

  Graphic images purchased with permission for use from 123RF; all copyrights reserved by artists. Cover – Javier Sanchez Mingorance, Eric Gagnier, czalewski; Interior – seamartini.

  All Rights Reserved

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By downloading or purchasing a print copy of this book, the reader is granted non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) now known or hereinafter invented without the express and prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.

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  Soli Deo Gloria

  Table of Contents

  A Note to Readers

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Reader Glossary

  A Note to Readers

  All of Your Business contains expressions and dialect specific to the British and Mexican cultures. It celebrates my experiences in London, England, and San Antonio, Texas, two cities near and dear to my heart. The cultural content of this book was vetted and approved by the woman whose real-life story inspired the character of Didi.

  A Reader Glossary with Spanish terms and definitions is located at the end of the book and can be accessed through the Table of Contents. Glossaries for all books in the Richer in Love series are available at http://fegreene.com/reader-glossaries/.

  Like listening to background music when you read? Search for the All of Your Business playlist on Spotify.

  Chapter One

  UNCATCHABLE BACHELOR WEDS IN INTIMATE STATESIDE CEREMONY

  SATURDAY, NEW ORLEANS – After a six-month courtship, Kip Richmond wed American sweetheart Lou Aucoin in front of family and close friends at the Saint Louis Cathedral, a storybook location in the heart of historic New Orleans. The couple will remain in the city for a honeymoon which coincides with its world-famous celebration of Mardi Gras.

  Kip’s brother Ben, still a bachelor himself, called the blissful couple “a fine match” and had no doubts the union would endure despite Kip’s randy past as Britain’s premiere playboy.

  “We are delighted to welcome Lou into the Richmond family,” said Ben. “We feel strongly that this will be a long-lasting partnership, and we wish them both very happy.”

  As he scrutinized his words on the screen, Ben winced at their sterile tone. Although he knew reporters would be at the ceremony, he neglected to prepare a proper statement. He made his brother’s marriage sound like a lucrative corporate merger. Not his finest soundbite.

  Not his forte, either. His brother knew how to turn a phrase and placate the media hacks. This was precisely why Kip worked in public relations while Ben kept to acquisitions. Kip was well established as the family’s media darling – and rightly so. Ben was known as the sensible Richmond. Sensible. No-nonsense. Focused.

  Adjusting his glasses, Ben reread the most irksome phrase in the article’s second paragraph. Still a bachelor himself. Could the reporter find no other way to describe him? He oversaw the largest division in Richmond Enterprises. No mergers or acquisitions occurred without his explicit approval. He was on track to become the CEO when their mother decided to retire, and the only detail this tabloid could bother to print was his continuing lack of a partner?

  Ben’s mood dimmed at the thought. Kip had endured years of that nonsense from paparazzi stalkers who tracked him like a pack of braying hounds. They sought indiscretions, not successes. Scandals, not triumphs.

  Ben had no patience for it.

  “Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Richmond?” A harried flight attendant addressed him through an insincere smile as passengers squeezed around her. No doubt her mind was occupied by the dozens of tasks that she needed to achieve before takeoff.

  Ben felt the same internal tension. He desperately needed to work. Three days of wedding festivities, enjoyable as they were, denied him the chance to stay on track with business. He hated feeling so far behind.

  “Pellegrino, please. Wedge of lemon. No ice in the glass.”

  He hoped the attendant heard him clearly. Americans piled ice cubes into most any drink including coffee and tea. If his original flight on a superior airline hadn’t been delayed, Ben would already be sipping a cup of Earl Grey brewed in a china pot.

  No such luck on this jaunt across the Pond. He was stuck in a substandard version of first class on an airline he strove to avoid. The deficiencies were all too apparent. He counted twenty-five seats instead of the usual twelve. The cabin lacked privacy walls or workstations. The seatbacks barely reclined.

  His saving grace for the eight-hour trip was his purchase of adjoining seats, the only two available on the flight from Atlanta to London due to another traveler’s last-minute cancelation. By claiming a short row all to himself, Ben could use the space as he saw fit. He had control of the tray tables, the air vents and window shade. He could use the toilet without disturbing anybody.

  He could also stretch his legs to their full length since he was in an exit row. The width of airline seats never troubled him, but at six foot two, he craved all the legroom he could afford. The extra space felt like a luxury.

  So did his lack of a temporary neighbor. More often than not, he ended up sitting next to some tipsy extrovert who felt compelled to tell their entire life story in a wine-fueled torrent of words. He always carried headphones for just such an occasion, but after a few hours, they gave him a headache. Still, better safe than sorry.

  Truth be told, he was tired of talking. He’d been talking for the past three days, wagging chins with people whom he’d never met and would never see again. In a business setting, that was tolerable. But socially, it left him exhausted. He felt empty and depleted.

  Finishing a few tasks for work would restore him. He started with his emails, skimming them on his tablet until a hovering form blocked the stark lighting. Expecting his drink, likely with ice, Ben looked up.

  Instead of the flight attendant, he met the gaze of a different woman. She wore frayed blue jeans and a lacey white jumper that hugged her curvy frame. With a suede jacket tu
cked beneath one arm, she carried a massive handbag woven from brightly dyed straw.

  “I think I’m supposed to be here,” she told him.

  The woman’s hand clasped the top of his seat. Her American accent was tinged with a twang Ben couldn’t identify. She sounded nothing like his new sister-in-law who prided herself on her Cajun patois.

  Ben removed his glasses. The woman was mistaken, but he couldn’t just say so. “Erm...”

  “This is 1B, right? First row, aisle seat?” She brandished a stub of paper.

  Ben set his tablet next to his briefcase on the empty window seat. He fished for his tickets in a pocket of his sport coat which the flight attendant hadn’t offered to stow. Producing both stubs, he placed his thumb below the seat numbers. 1A and 1B. Problem sorted.

  “I purchased my seats this morning,” he added.

  “I upgraded at the check-in desk. I maxed out my points to get up here.” The woman waved her stub at the flight attendant. “Excuse me? Hi. We’ve got an issue. We both have a ticket for the same seat. Can someone look into it, please?”

  The attendant finished pouring a glass of champagne before acknowledging the request. “Let me see what I can find out. Is it 1B?”

  The woman nodded. She appeared more disappointed than annoyed as though she half expected things to go wrong. On this particular airline, it was a reasonable assumption. Most carriers overbooked their flights, although not usually in business class. Even with the latest technology and security measures, mistakes did happen.

  Ben gave the woman a tight, noncommittal smile.

  She didn’t return it. She did seem uncertain of what to do next as passengers continued to board. They jostled past her, wedging themselves through the aisle’s limited space. When her knees bumped the side of Ben’s leg, she pointed at the unused seat.

  “Can I sit down until they figure this out? I promise I’ll move whenever they get back.”

  “They? Oh, yes. Of course.” Ben transferred his belongings from the window seat to his lap. The woman assumed the other seat was taken. And it was. Just not by a person.

  Which might well be his undoing. He felt the leading edge of a sinking sensation that his two-seat scheme might not succeed. He peered around the cabin. The flight attendant had disappeared.

  Setting her bag on the floor, the woman perched on the seat like she didn’t presume to stay. She wore her long, dark hair in a wavy ponytail that swayed whenever she shifted. Even with her high-heeled boots, she looked a good foot shorter than Ben.

  Her height and casual clothing made her age impossible to guess. In the right attire, she could pass for a teenager, but she carried herself with a self-assurance that came only from maturity. Her floral perfume improved the recirculated air.

  “Hi, I’m Didi.” She extended her right hand. “Didi Velasquez.”

  Taking it, Ben stifled a grimace. Exchanging names was the first stage of airline intimacy. Headphones might be necessary after all. He kept his words to an absolute minimum.

  “I’m Ben.”

  The woman’s grip felt as firm as his. “Ben what?”

  “Simply Ben will do.”

  She let go of his hand. “Okay.”

  Judging from her puzzled expression, his brusque reply had served its purpose. He didn’t mean to be rude, but on airplanes, civility was the thin end of the wedge. Talking inevitably led to more talking, and there was nowhere to escape when it did.

  Sliding on his glasses, Ben returned his attention to his phone. The onboard Wi-Fi was woefully slow. Any hope of a pre-liftoff Pellegrino had faded like the sky outside his window.

  The celebrity gossip website, with clickbait flashing at its edges, still consumed his mobile’s screen. Closing it, Ben opened a business news app to read the recent headlines. He tapped one containing his last name.

  RICHMOND ENTERPRISES ENTERS BIDDING WAR FOR AFRICAN GOLD MINE

  MONDAY, LONDON – Until last week, the fate of GhanaGold seemed all but certain. Now Richmond Enterprises has thrown a wrench in the works with a competing bid to obtain the mining company based in Ghana’s Ashanti region.

  The counteroffer is a major inconvenience for Dynamic Energy International [DEI]. To acquire GhanaGold, CEO Thomm Montgomery has liquidated most of DEI’s assets – the equivalent of a Hail Mary from the underdog’s quarterback.

  Confused, Ben pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He knew his fair share of American idioms. This one made no sense whatsoever.

  “Hail Mary,” he murmured. “Hail Mary?”

  “Do you always pray before you fly?”

  Ben glanced at his temporary seatmate. “I’m not praying. I’m trying to figure out what else a Hail Mary might be.”

  “You mean like in football?” Didi spoke with an air of authority. “A Hail Mary is a pass thrown by the quarterback in the last few seconds of a game. It’s an act of faith to score a touchdown when all hope of winning seems lost.”

  “What, he just throws the ball?” Ben mimicked the motion with his hand.

  “With the intention of having another player catch it. But he might not know which player.”

  “Sounds like an act of desperation.”

  Didi shrugged like she didn’t agree. “Maybe. But when it works, it feels like a miracle. And desperation can make a person fearless.”

  “Excuse me, miss?”

  Didi pivoted toward the flight attendant. “Yes?”

  “It looks like we did double-book that seat.” Both her expression and tone were contrite. “We should have caught the error before you boarded. Unfortunately, this cabin is full. There are a couple of seats available in the back row of our economy section. I can let you have both of those in exchange for this one.”

  Ben swallowed a disapproving grunt. That deal was absolute rubbish. One business-class seat on an international flight was worth two rows in coach. Even if they comped Didi’s drinks and brought her the upgraded meals, the columns still wouldn’t balance. Didi would be stuck next to the loos in seats that didn’t recline for the length of a working day.

  “Okay.” Rising, Didi shouldered her bulging straw bag and mumbled something that wasn’t in English.

  Ben felt gripped by a pang of guilt. He had no right to be so selfish. His mother would box his ears.

  “Wait.” He blocked Didi’s path with his arm. “Stay up here.”

  Didi shook her head. “You shouldn’t have to give up your seat. Not if you booked it first.”

  “The thing is...” Ben nodded toward the empty spot. “No one is sitting there.”

  Her confused gaze volleyed from him to the attendant. “I don’t understand.”

  “I purchased both seats,” he explained. “I need to work, and I must get some rest. Big day tomorrow at the office. Having a row to myself always helps.”

  Didi seemed less than impressed with his scheme. “So, this other seat has been free the whole time?”

  “It wasn’t free. I paid for it.”

  She crossed her arms. “Will I need to reimburse you?”

  “No, no.” Too late, Ben realized he sounded exactly the person he strove not to be. “I’d be an absolute git if I didn’t offer it to you.”

  “Which you could have done ten minutes ago and saved the flight attendant a headache.”

  “I didn’t think they would shove you to the back of the bus.”

  “I don’t know how to feel about this,” she declared. “You’re a stranger.”

  The flight attendant wasn’t so conflicted. “Miss, are you staying or going?”

  Shutting her eyes, Didi inhaled deeply. “Staying.” Again, she murmured in another language. Spanish, perhaps?

  After passing her bag to the flight attendant, Didi sank onto the seat. She remained calm despite all the confusion, but she seemed dissatisfied with the arrangement.

  Ben didn’t know how to reassure her. It was his fault, really, that she couldn’t relax. He should have volunteered the seat to begin with. Didi might fee
l better about accepting.

  This was why he concentrated on work. It brought a much higher rate of success. Kip was the charmer in the family, the bachelor playboy, until he met Lou who had professed to hate him. Only his brother could woo such a woman without getting smacked or arrested.

  And now Kip was married. Children would likely follow soon.

  And what was he?

  Still a bachelor. To be anything else would demand more of him than he was equipped to provide. He gave his all to the company because it was required. Corporations didn’t run themselves.

  But the women he met never understood that. They expected too much of his time. Not that their expectations were unreasonable. But work came first. It had to.

  And, honestly, he didn’t mind. His brother would have children, and he would have stock options. No sense in pretending he could have both.

  The last few latecomers were boarding in a straggling, staggered herd. When the flight attendant brought round the hot towels, Ben lowered his tablet so Didi could take one. She hadn’t said a word since she buckled in. Her attention remained on her phone.

  In a manner that Ben hoped was subtle, he studied his unforeseen seatmate. She was pretty, self-possessed, and intensely focused as she interacted with her mobile. She had handled the earlier inconvenience with notable grace. He shouldn’t have been so insensitive.

  But he was the sensible Richmond, not the sensitive one. That accolade went to his brother as well. And their mother was the undisputed champ of the London business community.

  As if she sensed his scrutiny, Didi swiveled her head in his direction. Her phone dropped into her lap. “Okay, Simply-Ben. Here’s the deal. I know you don’t want to talk, but we should probably establish some ground rules if we’re gonna be stuck next to each other for eight hours.”

  Ben smothered a laugh at her bluntness. “Ground rules. Excellent. Where to start?”

  “Armrest. How much does each of us get?”