Hit the Billionaire Jackpot Read online

  Hit the Billionaire Jackpot

  Nana Malone

  Misty Evans

  Beach Path Publishing

  Contents

  Back Cover

  Complimentary Downloads

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Complimentary Download

  Other Books by Misty Evans and Nana Malone

  About the Authors

  Copyright

  Please Note

  Back Cover

  As the new president of the 3 Wishes Foundation, Jenna McIntyre gets to make dreams come true for kids with disabilities. Once in awhile, she gets to make her own dreams come true as well. Like meeting her teenage crush, pop star Hawke Thorn, whose angsty songs helped her recover from a hit-and-run accident ten years ago and who is now one of the nominees for the 3 Wishes Donor of the Year event in Las Vegas. Jenna’s based her “ideal man” checklist on Hawke and now has the chance of a lifetime to actually land Hawke himself. But catching Hawke’s eye requires the romantically-challenged Jenna to seek love lessons from the other nominee—sexy, opinionated, billionaire playboy Jacob Swinton.

  Jacob Swinton may have a secret soft spot for kids and family, but there’s no way he’s making that public knowledge. His continuing success depends on the world seeing him as a self-possessed, calculating businessman. He’s never had to compete for anything, so when he finds out he’s not a shoe-in for the 3 Wishes foundation Donor of the Year Award, and his competition is drunken, slovenly, pop star Hawke Thorne, Jacob says game on. What's there to worry about? But when Jenna asks him for love lessons, he has no idea the real competition is for her heart.

  Complimentary Downloads

  DOWNLOAD a complimentary copy of the USA Today Bestseller, SEXY IN STILETTOS from Nana Malone. Just tell us where to send it!

  * * *

  Want a complimentary copy of OPERATION CONTRABAND from USA TODAY Bestseller, Misty Evans? Just tell us where to send it!

  1

  Being an adult was hard shit.

  Being an adult and being the new president of the family business was even harder and shittier.

  “I am completely out of my element, here, Van,” Jenna McIntyre said into the phone to her future sister-in-law as she twirled the tip of her loose braid. “Completely.”

  The kids and families served by the 3 Wishes Foundation were depending on her. Her own family and the board of directors were depending on her. She twirled faster, nerves skittering under her skin. Do not screw up, Jenna!

  Too late. She already had. Hence, the emergency call to her mentor and future sister-in-law. “I have to announce the nominees for Donor of the Year in thirty minutes and I’ve lost my notes.”

  “Relax,” Vanessa Rodriguez said from five thousand, six hundred and eighty-two miles away.

  Jenna had Googled the distance and nearly booked herself on the next flight from San Diego to Paris where her brother, Alex, was spending a three-day weekend with Van before he hit the European racing circuit again.

  “You’ve got this. Did you wear black like I instructed?”

  Jenna glanced down at her Billabong hoodie and Roxy jeans. She pulled a single long, red hair off of the sweatshirt and dropped it in the nearby garbage. “Yep.”

  “Did you memorize Van’s Rules of Engagement?”

  “Shoulders back, no slouching,” Jenna recited. “Appear tall and confident. Don't touch your face. Don’t play with your hair. Keep your feet square. Don’t open your mouth unless you can speak in clear, concise sentences. Grow a pair.”

  Van ran her own life-coaching business and had the being-an-adult stuff down pat. She was also an astute businesswoman who took no prisoners. “Very good. You shouldn’t need your notes. We went over the bios for the donors a dozen times and you know 3 Wishes inside and out. Hell, you’re the reason the 3 Wishes Foundation exists. It’s your company, Jen.”

  It was her company. At sixteen, she’d been hit by a car while walking home from a friend’s house. She’d nearly died in the hospital and faced years of rehabilitation. Her teenage life had been turned upside down, and she’d never had a normal day since. Jenna had totally missed out on all the normal teen-girl things because she was too busy learning to walk again. Some days when she was overly tired, or nasty storm systems rolled through, she still suffered from a slight limp.

  During her recovery, her parents had set up the 3 Wishes Foundation to grant wishes to kids like her. Kids in wheelchairs who wanted to ride a horse. Kids who wanted to go to Disneyland for their birthday but their parents couldn’t afford it because of the hospital bills. Kids who needed service dogs and wheelchair-accessible vans to make their lives, and those of their families, better.

  “I’ve always dealt with the warm, fuzzy side,” Jenna said. “Not the business stuff.”

  “You have a master’s degree in management.”

  True, but… “College is not real life. Why do you think I stayed there for an extra two years?”

  “You’re the one who fired Alex.” Jenna had fired her brother for his own good so he could pursue his racing dream. After that, she’d sent her mom and dad to St. Croix on their second honeymoon. They’d all supported her for ten years. It was time she let them get back to their dreams and their lives.

  “And I’d do it all over again. He was an excellent president, but you’re right, it’s my foundation. I need to quit avoiding responsibility and, in the words of my life coach, grow a pair.”

  As Van laughed the door to Jenna’s office opened and Wanda, her assistant, stuck her head in. “Mr. Swinton is here,” she said.

  Jacob Swinton. Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass. Of course he’d be early for the meeting. He was probably early to his own birth.

  Jenna covered the mouthpiece. “Seat Jake in the conference room and offer him a beverage and a magazine. I have a few things to wrap up before the meeting.”

  “He said he needs to talk to you before the meeting about relocating the annual dinner since you want a bigger venue. And you know he hates it when you call him Jake.”

  If Swinton hadn’t been one of the nominees for Donor of the Year, and one of 3 Wishes’ most prestigious donors at that, Jenna would have asked Wanda to handle whatever it was he wanted. Wanda had been at 3 Wishes since the beginning; she knew how to handle everyone from vendors to volunteers.

  Jenna loved her donors and normally preferred talking about dinners, parties for volunteers, and selecting a theme for the annual DOTY dinner over handling a meeting or reading through the latest contract. But with Swinton it was an altogether different story. The man made her crazy. He was so uptight and impossible to please; even his drool-worthy good looks and generous checkbook weren’t enough to make her want to spend more time with him than she had to.

  And didn’t it figure that Swinton was elected to the board of directors by a landslide? Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass was now in charge of this year’s annual dinner in Vegas.

  Gah. “Kill me now,” Jenna said into the phone. “His Royal Highness is here demanding my presence, Van. I have to go.”

  “Cut him some slack.” Van knew exactly who Jenna was referring to, and she always tried to get Jenna to see the positive in every
one. “He’s really good with the kids, and he’s done some amazing work for the foundation.”

  “Yes, but I wish he’d stick to making the kids’ wishes come true and not driving me batshit crazy.” To Wanda, still standing in the doorway, Jenna said, “I’ll be there in a few minutes. I have to find my notes.”

  “Have you heard back from Hawke Thorn?” Van asked as Wanda nodded and shut the door again. “Is he attending the dinner?”

  Hawke Thorn. Now there was a man Jenna wanted to spend some time with, though millions of other women around the world felt the same way about the talented pop star. “His publicist hasn’t returned my calls, but I know he’s in town.”

  “Are you stalking him again?”

  Did Google alerts count as stalking? “Of course not. Granted, he was my teenage crush when he was in Triple Threat, but I’m an adult now.” Hawke left the boy band five years ago and went out on his own. Now he was an international star in his own right. His last three singles went platinum within days of release. “I don’t stalk the rich and famous, by the way, I just happened to catch last night’s blip on Entertainment Tonight about him being in San Diego.”

  Yeah...that was it. Van couldn’t get ET in Paris, could she?

  “You need to contact that publicist again. His bad-boy ways have gotten him into so much hot water; he needs this nomination as Donor of the Year to be splashed all over the news. Tell her that. And it will be good for 3 Wishes, too. You can use the publicity he’ll bring. But watch out for the paparazzi. They can be more trouble than they're worth.”

  “He did the concert last month to raise money for us. Isn’t that enough of a good deed? Does he really need to show up for the nomination announcement?”

  She prayed he would, just so she could ogle him.

  “Yes he does, and definitely the dinner in Vegas. Stay on his publicist and see if you can get at least a photo-op with him and one of the kids his money is helping. You can get a lot of mileage from that alone, and he should be willing to do that. If you want to take your dream of expanding the foundation to other countries, this is the ticket. PR, baby. Lots of PR.”

  “Okay, okay.” Jenna sighed. She wanted more than anything to meet Hawke in person and tell him how much she admired his new commitment to helping her foundation, but she hated schmoozing with publicists and managers. “I really have to go.”

  “Chin up, don’t twirl your hair, and don’t take any shit, okay?”

  Jenna stopped twirling her braid, wondering if Van could see through the phone. “Yes, ma’am.”

  They said goodbye and hung up. As Jenna stood she knocked a file off her desk, and lo and behold, there were her notes for the meeting underneath.

  Taking a deep breath, she decided Swinton would have to wait a little longer. She needed to review what she was going to say to the board and staff. Just in case Hawke showed up.

  Van had insisted Jenna install a full-length mirror in her office to practice giving speeches. Stepping up to it, she immediately wished she hadn’t.

  Her hair was coming out of the braid and looked stringy. Her face was pale. She’d forgotten to wear the professional-looking shoes Van bought her, and she knew Swinton would take one look at her Chucks and roll his eyes. She could see it now.

  Well, screw him. She lifted her chin and stuck her tongue out at an imaginary Swinton. This was who she was, and she wasn’t going to change for anyone.

  Besides, 3 Wishes was about the kids, not her.

  It’s my foundation.

  She scanned her notes and practiced her speech. She’d talk about Hawke Thorn’s generous donation first and let the board know how pleased she was to have the publicity his name would bring to the foundation. It wasn’t about the fame, it was about attracting new donors. With Hawke’s notoriety behind them, they could, and would, go international. They would help dozens more kids, maybe even hundreds. Her inbox was filled with letters begging for help.

  Of course, she’d have to announce that Jacob Swinton was the second nominee for Donor of the Year. His donations had provided services for three extra kids and their families this year. Services that were huge expenses, like college funds and experimental medical treatments no insurance company would touch.

  Her watch alarm went off, telling her it was five minutes to the hour. Time to get to the conference room and greet the board. Whatever Swinton wanted to discuss could wait until after the meeting.

  Jenna made her way down the hall, concentrating on her three-by-five notecards as she walked. She grabbed the door handle to the conference room, ready to breeze in Van-style, only to be stopped in her tracks. She jiggled the handle again. It moved, but the door seemed stuck.

  Jenna pushed a little harder, and suddenly the door flew open, but Wanda stood blocking the entrance. She shoved Jenna back into the hall and note cards flew, scattering all over the floor.

  Wanda’s chin dropped, along with her usually boisterous voice. “He’s here,” she stage-whispered.

  “Who?”

  “Hawke Thorn!”

  Oh God. Jenna’s heart plummeted to her stomach. She fell into a crouch, grabbing her cards. “He’s in the conference room?”

  Wanda bent to help. “Downstairs in the lobby with a bunch of paparazzi.”

  Jenna froze mid-pickup. Holy shit! Paparazzi? Van was right. “Can security handle it?”

  Wanda tilted her head as if Jenna were naive. “Thorn brings his own security, and yes, I think it’s all handled. What do you think the paparazzi are going to do?”

  “Nothing, I just…” Jenna waved her off. “Never mind.”

  The conference room was generously sized, yet staff members were packed in like brides at a wedding expo. The board members had their usual seats, and everyone looked Jenna’s way when she entered. The buzz of voices died and the disappointment on their faces told her they were hoping for Hawke Thorn.

  “Good afternoon, everyone.” She headed for her chair at the head of the large, glass table, clenching her cards tight. Of course Jacob Swinton had seated himself at the other end, and like usual, he was frowning as he checked his five-thousand-dollar wristwatch. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

  A general buzz of conversation rose again and Jenna cleared her throat and channeled Van's trademark “shut-up-bitches” glare. It worked; even the giggling interns in the corner pressed their lips together and straightened up.

  HawkeThornHawkeThornHawkeThorn. His name kept circling in her brain. They’d never had anyone famous bring attention to their cause before. This could be our big break.

  Oh, who was she kidding? She wanted to see him, be in the same room as him, for the very same reason those silly interns did. He was Johnny-Depp gorgeous and totally sexy with his tattoos and his torn jeans and the way he sang… She got chills thinking about it.

  Someone cleared his throat. Jenna snapped back to reality, and saw Jacob Swinton giving her his royal-eyed squint. The one that said he found her lacking in every way possible.

  She gave him a fake smile in return. Douchebag. “We’re here today to announce the nominees for Donor of the Year, both of whom are with us today. The winner will be awarded our 3 Wishes DOTY plaque at the annual dinner in Las Vegas next month. The donor’s name will also be engraved on the plaque in our front hall downstairs.” Where Hawke Thorn is right now! “He will be featured on our website and will have the chance to do a follow up with the child whose three wishes were granted due to their generous…”

  The door burst open and a collective gasp reverberated through the room.

  Hawke Thorn had indeed arrived.

  Jenna’s mouth went dry. She nearly dropped her cards. Her teenage crush—the one whose songs she had listened to endlessly during rehab—strode into the room and looked around.

  His white-blond hair was tousled, his shirttail untucked. One of the buttons close to his navel was undone and she could see the hint of a tattoo. He scratched the day-old scruff on his jaw and his eyes—were they bloodshot?
—met hers. “You the gal in charge? Jenna?”

  He’d said her name. Her heart jackhammered in her chest. “Ye-ye…” Wanda, standing behind her, pinched her elbow. “Yes, I’m Jenna. Hello, Mr. Thorn.” Mr. Thorn? Did anyone call him that? “Won’t you have a seat? We’re thrilled you’re here.”

  She held out her hand and threw Jacob Swinton a look. Get up, moron. Let him have your seat.

  Swinton didn’t move.

  “It’s Hawke. With an E, babe,” Thorn said, ignoring her outstretched hand.

  He strode forward, grabbed her chair, and wheeled it out, running over her toes. Jenna jumped back, bumping into Wanda, and bit her lip. Her toes screamed in pain as Hawke dropped into her chair at the head of the table with a dramatic sigh.

  The strong smell of stale beer and body odor flooded her nose. All eyes were on him, the interns in the back gaped as if they’d never seen such awesomeness.

  She had to agree. The untucked shirt and tousled hair oozed with bad-boy charm.

  Jenna dug the toe of her Chuck into the floor and ignored the twinge of pain. The only person in the room who didn’t seem even mildly interested in Hawke Thorn was Jacob.

  Mr. Royalty thought mere pop stars, along with mortals like her, beneath him.

  “Yes, well, Hawke,” Jenna said, flipping through her notes. “Welcome. We’re delighted you could make it for the announcement.”

  The rest of the meeting flew by, and Jenna wasn’t exactly sure what she said. But no one other than Jacob seemed to be paying attention to her anyway. While Jenna was giving the stats on Hawke and the money he’d raised with his charity concert, the star leaned forward, put his head on the table, and fell asleep. Do you wake up a superstar during a meeting? Or do you let them sleep off their bender? Van hadn’t prepped her for this. She had to speak over his snores.

  Luckily, Hawke’s publicist entered a few minutes later and hustled him out the door. Jenna didn’t even get to shake his hand.