My Forever Billionaire Read online

  A Billionaire Books Ltd Ebook.

  Copyright © 2019 by Katie Evergreen

  All rights reserved.

  All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  v.1.01

  Dear Reader!

  Thank you so much for picking up my sixth book! I am having so much fun writing these, and I hope you’re enjoying them. I love chocolate, and I love candy even more. In fact, I eat so many sweet things when I’m writing that I decided to use them as the theme for this book—I wanted to write a sweet thing all of my own! I absolutely adore Jackson and Clementine. Childhood sweethearts, their story has all the right ingredients for a beautiful happy forever after. But how will this recipe turn out?

  I just want to thank everyone who wrote to me to suggest a name for this book. There were so many entries it was almost impossible to pick one, but Forever sounded so romantic I couldn’t not tell this story. I hope I have done it justice!! And I am still learning as I go, so if you spot any mistakes in this book please let me know.

  And, as always, feel free to get in touch about anything! I love to hear from readers. If you just want to stay up to date on the My Billionaire A-Z, then sign up to my newsletter. I’ll be running giveaways, revealing exclusive extracts, searching for beta readers, and even offering you another chance to name the title of some of the books!

  Just visit my website to join! See you soon! :-)

  katieevergreen.com

  This book is dedicated to the wonderful readers who helped me pick Forever as the title of this Billionaire Book!

  Jessica Dismukes

  Pat G

  Linda Saunders

  Renee C

  Thank you all so much!!

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Katie Evergreen

  1

  Clementine tucked the last few sweaters into her suitcase and surveyed the empty room with a heavy heart. It looked as bare as it had done five years ago, when she’d arrived in her boyfriend’s pick-up truck—the truck bed full of her life’s belongings, and her head full of ideas for their new business.

  The one-room apartment—smack-bang in the center of the buzzing city and right above the bakery they had leased—had been small but perfectly formed, just what Clementine had needed to start the adventure of a lifetime.

  And now her life was once again reduced to a few boxes. They would easily fit in the back of the taxi that was waiting patiently for her outside, the taxi that would drive her back to her parents’ farm in Willingham, Wyoming.

  She zipped the suitcase shut and stood up, her knees protesting the action. At just twenty- four, they definitely shouldn’t be clicking so loudly, but she had spent the last few days on her knees, scrubbing the floors so she would at least get her damage deposit back. With one last check, Clementine hauled the case onto its wheels and dragged it across the wooden floorboards to the door.

  “Goodbye, little life,” she said quietly, wiping a tear from her cheek with the back of her free hand. The space may have been empty, but it felt as if she was leaving a part of herself here, a part that she would never see again.

  “No doubt you’ll be back with your tail between your legs.” A nasal voice travelling up the stairwell turned Clementine’s stomach. “I give you a week, max.”

  Her boyfriend—well her ex-boyfriend now—peered around the corner. Pete’s pasty skin was almost the same color as the lime green walls of the corridor, practically turning him invisible. There was no chance of missing him, though. His voice droned on relentlessly as Clementine inched past him with her case. She tried her best not to bash his feet with the wheels, but despite his small frame he took up the majority of the hallway, and refused to move, which made it difficult.

  “Don’t forget that rent is due on the bakery every Monday, and you’ll need to keep paying it until the space is leased again,” he said, following her down the stairs. “There are also the bills, obviously. And the suppliers will need paying until you let them know you’re giving up on our business.”

  Clementine tried to zone out his incessant whining. She had already cancelled the suppliers and arranged with the owners of the bakery to put it back on the market to lease. But she wasn’t going to rise to the bait and reply. Besides, if she told Pete what she’d already done he’d no doubt add another few items to her list to pay or organize, despite having been her partner in both business as well as life.

  The suitcase bashed her leg with every stair she descended, hitting the same small patch on her shin. Tears sprang into her deep brown eyes and the stairs started to swim in front of her. She wiped them away before Pete could see, the last thing she needed was him thinking she was crying over him. She shifted the suitcase into her left hand, letting the other leg have a bashing instead. Pete stuck so close behind her she could smell his aftershave, but he didn’t once offer to help. He hadn’t stopped talking since they started walking down to the taxi.

  “… and there’ll be the utilities to change over when the space is let, you’ll need to arrange all of that. Don’t forget about that wedding cake you promised, too. You’ll have to tell them you’ve decided to ruin their wedding by not producing it. It’s far too late for them to rebook someone now…”

  Clementine bit her lip and did her best to zone him out. She carried on trudging down the stairs, the front door now visible, along with her taxi driver who was leaning against the wall whistling an out of tune song that she almost recognized. She gave the man a small, grateful smile as he dashed up the stairs and grabbed her suitcase.

  “Is this the last of it?” he asked, hauling the case down the stairs as though it was filled with nothing but feathers.

  Clementine nodded, aware that Pete was still talking at her. She turned to her ex, his green pallor now tinged with redness.

  “You’re making such a huge mistake,” he said, puffing out air as he spoke. “And when you realize this, don’t think I’m going to take you back just like that. It’s not like I haven’t made it easy enough for you to change your mind.”

  Clementine opened her mouth to speak but Pete drowned her out before she had a chance.

  “And you will be back. Just you wait and see. A week living with your parents, at twenty-four, with no bakery, no regular customers to chat garbage with, nowhere to make those… those little things you make…”

  Cakes, she thought. They’re called cakes.

  “I will probably have moved on by then anyway,” he said, then abruptly stopped talking. He leaned against the taxi as if his batteries had run flat, his face sagging. He looked a lot older than his years.

  “I’m sorry,” she said as she climbed into the car, pulling the door shut behind her.


  She was sorry. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. They’d had a thriving business and a life together. But it wasn’t meant to be. Some things just weren’t. Clementine knew her reasons for leaving were valid, but right now she felt like a failure. A failure who had just been reminded of all the reasons why she was a failure, in particular a wedding cake that she would now need to organize from miles away. There was no way she’d let down her customers, not any more than she already had done. No, Clementine was determined to at least deliver that order, even if it was her last one as part of the Pastry Emporium team.

  A pang of sadness ran through Clementine, though she wouldn’t be sad to say goodbye to the name. She had never been a fan of Pastry Emporium. Pete had argued that it sounded imposing, and that’s what they needed to break into a busy market. And what did she know? Pete had been the business brains behind the bakery, she was just the baker. His acumen had been one of the things which had attracted her to him in the first place, the way he could make something out of nothing by buying up failing businesses and turning them around to be profitable. He was clever, and he had been persuasive too, until his persuasions became too much for Clementine to deal with.

  She shuddered and looked out of the window at Pete’s forlorn face. He hopped from foot to foot as the driver took his seat and started the engine. The taxi pulled away from the curb, and from the life she thought she had mapped out.

  “Wait!” she yelled suddenly.

  She pushed open the car door and ran back to the building. Pete’s face lit up as she ran past him.

  “Told you,” he jeered.

  But Clementine was too busy to hear him. She darted up the stairs to her old apartment. The door was unlocked, and she let herself back in, not stopping to inhale the comforting scent of the candles she’d lit while she was packing or listen to the familiar sounds of the street below. Heading straight for the corner of the room where her bed stood, now unmade and not really her bed anymore, she dropped to her knees and lifted the floorboard nearest to the wall. There was a box underneath, just a small wooden one with a picture of Pinocchio in faded colors on the lid. Clementine lifted it out carefully and held it close to her chest, her eyes shut while she regained her composure.

  How could she have almost left without this? It didn’t bear thinking about.

  A moment later she replaced the floorboard, a sense of calmness now blanketing her. Pete had made it to the top floor just as Clementine was once again ready to leave. She ignored his taunts about how he was always right and skipped down the stairs.

  Neither Clementine nor the driver took any notice of Pete bouncing apoplectically on the sidewalk as the taxi pulled away once again. Clementine relaxed into the back of the car and lifted the lid of the small box she’d rescued. It was full to bursting with things. She lifted out yellow faded photographs and handwritten notes and placed them on the seat next to her. At the bottom of the box was a gummy candy shaped like a ring. It was covered in dust and lint and looked a far cry from the bright orange and red it had been when she had first been given it thirteen years ago.

  Carefully, in case it was stuck to the bottom of the box, Clementine lifted it out and brushed off as much of the debris as she could.

  “What’ve you got there?” the driver asked, the hint of a smile in his voice.

  “Oh, nothing really,” she said, smiling at the man in the rear-view mirror. “Just my original and authentic wedding ring.”

  She held up the gummy candy to the car window. What was left of the day’s sunlight shone through the dusty orange ring and danced on Clementine’s face. A little giggle escaped her full pink lips as she realized for the first time in a long time that she was excited to be heading home.

  2

  Jackson stepped out onto the factory floor, the sweet smell of melting sugar syrup enveloping him like warm hug. For a moment he forgot why he was here. He closed his eyes and was transported back in time to the comfort of his parents’ kitchen, where his business had first started all those years ago. From simple beginnings to a multi-billion-dollar business, Jackson could hardly keep up with himself. He let out the breath he had been holding and opened his eyes.

  “Sir.” A petite woman appeared beside Jackson, dressed from head to toe in white protective gear. She pulled off her blue latex gloves to shake his hand. “So lovely to see you. If we had known you were coming, we could have made arrangements.”

  She looked up at him from under a hairnet which was trying—and failing—to contain a mass of blonde curls, her bright green eyes full of worry. Jackson smiled at her, taking in the noise of the factory for a moment before replying.

  “Oh, Jen, now I feel terrible,” he said, his brown eyes twinkling. “This isn’t some secret inspection. It’s okay, please don’t panic. I had some business over this way and thought I’d drop in while I was here. I can never resist the pull of the candy.”

  “Phew,” the woman said, pocketing her gloves and wiping her hands on her outfit. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Candy?”

  Jackson shook his head.

  “I’m good. I’d just like to bottle the scent of the place before I leave.”

  He took a deep breath and sighed. Jen turned toward Jackson so quickly he worried she may have given herself whiplash.

  “Leave?” she stammered. “You’re leaving Sweet Sensations? But it’s your baby. What will you do? Where are you going?”

  Jackson let out a small laugh.

  “Ah, Jen, that’s why I hired you as Sweet Sensation’s foreman… forewoman! I love your enthusiasm.” He turned back to the busy factory and took another deep breath of the delicious air. “I’m not leaving, leaving. I just need to go away for a few days, that’s all. No, I’d never leave this place. It’s my life.”

  “You can say that again,” Jen exclaimed, lightly punching Jackson on the arm. “Thank goodness, you had me worried there.”

  They stood in silence for a moment, the whirring of the machines rhythmic and calm, before Jen spoke.

  “I thought you were incapable of leaving the company in case you didn’t get your daily sugar hit,” she giggled. “You’ve barely taken any time away from Sweet since you started it. Why now?”

  Jackson didn’t answer immediately. He wasn’t sure what to say. He loved Jen like the sister he never had, and he respected her as much as she respected him. He didn’t want her to feel sorry for him the way that everyone else did who knew the truth about his past, he didn’t want to see that sorrow in her eyes every time she looked at him. That was one of the reasons his parents upped and left their home in Willingham, Wyoming to travel hundreds of miles to a large faceless city with views of high rises instead of mountains. They couldn’t deal with the sympathy their small home town felt when it had happened. Jackson remembered it well, how people couldn’t meet his eyes, how they crossed the street so they didn’t have to have awkward conversations with him. At fourteen that had really hurt, yet at fourteen he couldn’t express just how much.

  “Oh,” he shrugged eventually, deciding not to tell her. “Family matters. You know how it is?”

  Jen knew exactly how it was. She often talked about how her time away from work consisted of wrangling three children all under the age of ten—plus a husband—into some sort of order.

  “Right,” she said. “Well if there’s anything I can get you while you’re here, you know where to find me.”

  “Thanks, Jen,” he said as she skipped off in the direction of the bulky machinery.

  Jackson took the metal stairs to the second floor; a platform that ran around the perimeter of the factory with doors leading to the offices. He leant on the railings, looking over the production line of the first ever candy he had developed. He watched the sugar melting into a sweet, sickly, syrup before being infused with flavor and molded into a heart shape. As the candy disappeared into the body of the machine, he wondered what message would be waiting for the customer when they popped that piece of candy into their mouth.


  The idea had formed in his head the moment his parents had driven him away from the only home he’d known, and from the only girl he had ever loved. His folks had been too distracted by the accident to care that his heart was breaking—not that they had thought a fourteen-year-old mature enough to know what love was. Jackson had watched her through the window of the station wagon, tears falling down his cheeks as he waved goodbye. And ever since then he had kicked himself for all the things he had wanted to say to her but hadn’t had the chance.

  They’d been sweethearts since before Jackson could really remember. Their parents owned adjoining farms and there were few other neighbors to play with, so they had been thrust together. They’d soon developed an unbreakable friendship that blossomed with time and love. A smile spread across Jackson’s face as he remembered the first time they had kissed. Aged five, hidden behind his parent’s haystack, the cute brunette with chocolate button eyes had jumped out at him and dragged him by the scruff of the neck to hide with her. Then, out of the blue, she’d pressed her lips against his cheek with a giggle before pushing him face first into the prickly hay and running off screaming with laughter. He knew now, although he definitely wasn’t thinking it then, that was the moment he truly fell for her.

  Of course, their relationship hadn’t ventured much further than a peck on the cheek—they had been too young, and he had been too shy to ask—but they had loved each other. He didn’t doubt that for an instant. And one summer’s morning, six years after that first kiss, as they lay together on the riverbank, their feet dipped in the cool water that flowed first through her farm, and then through his, he had asked her to marry him.