Cinderella's Billion-Dollar Christmas. Susan Meier
laughed. “I doubt they let social workers wear them.”
He loved her laugh. He loved her flowing hair. He loved that a little small talk had brought back her smile. “That’s a tough job.”
“I know.”
“But it should be fairly easy to find work.”
Her smile grew into a grin. “I know that, too.”
“Well, there’s just no fooling you, is there, Leni?”
She smiled again. Her full lips lifting and her green eyes sparkling.
He swore to God his heart turned over in his chest. He’d been single for so long that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this kind of reaction to a woman. Not just an instant connection, but a welcome connection, as if the small talk he thought so pointless was a door to something—
Looking at her beautiful face, big eyes, high cheekbones, perfect nose, and lips just made for kissing, he almost suggested she search for work in New York, but that would be as pointless as a conversation about the weather. Why would he ask a beautiful woman to make such a drastic move for him, when he knew nothing would come of it?
The diner door opened and he turned. A woman in an elf suit just like Leni’s walked in.
The other waitress. Most likely Elenore Long.
His eyes narrowed as he studied her. She was fifty, at least. Her chestnut hair curled around a square face and her eyes were blue. His heiress was the first of three children fathered by Mark Hinton, who’d died two weeks ago at the age of sixty. This woman was too old to be his child, even his firstborn.
He rose from his stool. “You’re the other waitress?”
The woman began unbuttoning her coat. “Yeah.”
“I think he’s been waiting for you, Mom.”
Nick swung to face Leni again. “Mom?”
“That’s my mom. Denise Long, Mr. Owner-of-a-Money-Management-Firm. If you think we got a settlement to invest after my dad’s injury, you’re wrong. We can barely get the insurance company to pay his medical bills.”
He fell to the round red stool again. “I’m not after your dad’s money.” He took a quick breath and caught Leni’s gaze. “Your last name is Long?”
“Yeah.”
Not taking any chances, he said, “And Leni is a nickname for something?”
He waited for confirmation but deep down he already knew the answer.
“Elenore.”
He ran his fingers along his brow. “Elenore Long.” He shook his head. If he hadn’t been so blinded by her bedroom eyes, glorious mane of hair and sexy little body, he probably would have figured that out. “You’re Elenore Long?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Is there someplace private you and I can talk?”
She pressed her hand to her chest. “I’m the person you’re here to see?”
“Yes.”
“Why? I could barely get student loans. I don’t have anything to hand over to a money management firm.”
“Seriously. We have to talk someplace private.” He caught her gaze. “Now.”
Leni had never seen anybody’s mood shift so quickly. He went from cute and flirty to serious in under a second. But that was fine since she was totally confused by him. First, he wanted to talk to her mom. Now he wanted to talk to her?
“The only people in the diner are you, me and my mom. George, the cook, is outside smoking.” She glanced around. “We can just go to one of the booths in the back.”
“Okay.” He pointed to the last booth in the farthest corner. “We’ll sit there.”
He walked behind her until they reached the table. Then he slid onto the bench across from her.
“My name is Nick Kourakis. I work for a money management firm in New York City.”
“So, you said. And I told you my family doesn’t have any money to invest.”
“I know.”
His eyes darkened as he studied her. With all his attention centered on her face, she had to hold back a shudder. She had never seen a man this good-looking. But as she thought that, she noticed that his gray overcoat was stunningly made, and his white shirt and tie looked expensive. As big as he was, he wore both effortlessly, as if he was accustomed to luxury. Maybe even made for it.
She suddenly realized he wasn’t gorgeous so much as he was a combination of the whole package. Expensive clothes. Sparkling clean. Handsome.
And wealthy.
Probably so rich, she couldn’t even fathom the amount of money he had.
“I’m not selling anything. I’m not even here on behalf of the money management firm. I was sent here to retrieve you.”
“Retrieve me?” His sultry brown eyes held her captive, sending warmth swimming through her blood, confusing her, almost hypnotizing her.
“Because I have some exciting news for you.”
“Oh, yeah?” She fought the strange sensations assaulting her with sarcasm. “And what would that be?”
“First, what I have to tell you has to remain confidential.”
Some of her equilibrium returned. “Okay.”
He leaned back on the bench. “Have you ever heard of Mark Hinton?”
More of her confidence came back. Enough to put starch in her spine. “No.”
“He’s a billionaire...or was. We have reason to believe you are one of the people mentioned in his will.”
“Oh...” Her composure took a tumble. Imagining herself getting as much as ten thousand dollars and paying off some of the bills that had accumulated since her dad’s injury, she told her wishful-thinking brain to stop before she got her hopes up. “That’s good. Right?”
“It could potentially be wonderful.”
“Dude, wonderful to me is enough money to pay my dad’s medical bills.”
“It’s more than that.”
New thoughts scrambled around in her brain. Like buying her dad the service dog he needed because of his seizures, and not worrying about the company forcing him back to work.
But as quickly as her good thoughts set up shop, some bad thoughts came tumbling in. Adopted at eight, after a year in foster care when her biological mom gave her up, she’d always believed she was not a lucky person. The way she’d struggled for eight years just to afford her basic bachelor’s degree backed that up. “What’s the catch?”
“Before I say another word, I need your promise that you won’t talk about this with anyone until I tell you that you can.”
A laugh bubbled out. “You want me to take a vow of silence?”
“You are the first of three potential heirs to Mark Hinton’s estate. A huge estate. You can tell your parents, but that’s it. And they have to promise to keep this news to themselves. Frankly, it’s a matter of your personal safety.”
It all seemed to so preposterous that it couldn’t sink in. As good as it would be to be rich, she was much too practical to believe in magic or miracles. It had to be a joke or a mistake.
When she said nothing, he sighed. “Do