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   Copyright 2020 by Sara Sarasota - All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

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  Arousing a Dragon

  A Billionaire Boss Romance

  By

  Sarah Sarasota

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 1

  The ceaseless sound of the New York City traffic had been drowned, for the time being, by the wonderfully talented string quartet that sat in the corner of the art gallery. The musicians were currently playing their way through Vivaldi’s Four Seasons – the perfect musical accompaniment to the Bollinger champagne, assorted hor d’oeuvres, and the edgy and expensive modern art that was on display.

  Aurora Laurent stood in one corner of the gallery and watched the crowd of beautifully dressed men and women – with their fake smiles and their fake hair and their fake boobs – swirl and mingle through the gallery, all of them looking smug at being invited to the A Soft Summer Night’s Dream art gala.

  Although Aurora was attending the prestigious annual gala, she was, to her eternal disappointment, not an invitee. She would have given a lot to be one of the glamorous women swanning about in a four-thousand-dollar gown and an eight-hundred-dollar pair of heels, holding a clutch that contained nothing but a phone and a platinum card.

  Instead, she was working, dressed in the black uniform of the high-end art gallery’s catering team and holding a tray of vegan scallops.

  How the hell someone’s managed to make a goddamn scallop vegan, I have no idea, Aurora thought irritably, as her phone vibrated in her pocket for what felt like the eightieth time in five minutes.

  She’d ducked into hidden corners all evening to answer the impatient texts from her new boyfriend, Brodie Wood, who was a minor league hockey player and – had Aurora only had the courage to admit it to herself – a major douchebag. She’d met him after going to watch one of his games with her best friend, Harper Hill, and they’d started seeing each other not long afterward.

  Harper was from the same small town in Nebraska as Aurora. She’d moved to New York for a job as an assistant events planner at the high-end art gallery that held the A Soft Summer Nights Dream gala.

  “Harp,” Aurora had sobbed hysterically on the phone a month or so before, when life fell apart for her in Nebraska. “Harp, I don’t know what to do! I’ve just walked out. I couldn’t do it… What do I do now?”

  “Aurora,” Harper had replied to her, “you’ve got to get out of there, right? You’ve done the hardest part. Just pack some bags and come out to the East Coast.”

  “Come out to New York City?”

  “That’s right. You know I’ve got this event planning gig going on now, and we’re going to start hiring a few new people for some upcoming engagements at the gallery. Come out here, I’ll put in a good word and you’ll have a job on my team. It’s not exactly glamorous, but it’ll pay the bills while you look for something that really makes your heart sing.”

  And so Aurora had done exactly as Harper suggested.

  Aurora’s phone vibrated against her thigh again. And again.

  “Jesus,” she hissed to herself, slipping slowly backwards into a shadowy recess. She knew that she was most certainly not doing her job to the best of her ability. It always paid to be seen flitting amongst the guests during a soiree such as this, making yourself visible to the catering manager so that you got your fair share of the tips and the kudos after it was all done. Normally, she would have been out there smiling courteously to the women and batting her eyelashes just enough at the men to keep them coming back for more champagne with smiles of their own, but not tonight.

  Tonight, Brodie, for some unfathomable reason, had gotten it into his head that Aurora had found something more interesting to do than hang out with him and his tiresome friends. She had told him that she was working – had even sent him a picture of her all-black catering outfit – but, somehow, the big lug had latched onto the notion that she was out with another guy. How he had come to this conclusion, Aurora was incapable of saying. But the result was that Brodie was now threatening to show his entire hockey team the explicit photos that Aurora had sent him one night while drunk.

  Even the picture hadn’t helped, as Brodie had texted her back saying, “You just look like you’re dressed up all fancy!”

  The last thing that Aurora wanted was for twenty guys she barely knew to see what she looked like with no panties on.

  Aurora fumbled in her pocket for her phone, the tray of vegan scallops wobbling dangerously in her other hand. She managed to extricate the phone from her pocket, but it slipped from her grasp and she instinctively ducked to grab it. She managed to catch the phone; but, in doing so, the tray of canapés tilted and fell to the ground.

  The crash of the silver tray on the polished marble floor of the gallery sounded like the end of the world. It shattered the peaceful atmosphere as effectively as a gong. A couple of the nearest art-lovers gasped, and many people broke off their conversations, so that a ringing silence fell. It was a mark of the professionalism of the quartet that the musicians played on. No doubt they’d been to enough of these fancy shindigs to have seen their fair share of catering mishaps.

  A tapping of heels heralded the arrival of Harper Hill as she swept over, a fake smile of assurance plastered across her pretty, heart-shaped face. It was a smile that said there was nothing to see here, just a minor hiccup. With a couple of disapproving glances at Aurora, the guests went back to their milling and perusing of the bizarre artwork on display.

  “Aurora!” Harper whispered under her breath once the patrons had moved away. “What the hell is wrong with you tonight? I’ve had my eye on you ducking into corners when you don’t think anyone is looking. What’s going on with you?”

  “I’m sorry, Harp,” Aurora said, scrambling about and trying to pick up the smeared messes that had, only a moment before, been perfectly fine vegan scallops. “It’s just – it’s Brodie.”

  Harper knelt awkwardly in her tight, high-waisted skirt, and started to help Aurora pile the sad-looking canapés back onto the silver platter. “What does that jackass want?”

  “He’s convinced that I’m out with some other guy, not here working. He thinks that I’ve blown him off.”

  “Have you told him you’re working?”

  “Yeah, but he just keeps texting me non-stop. He won’t drop it. And now, he’s threatening to show all his buddies the pictures that I sent him…”

  “What kind of pictures?”

  “You know what kind of pictures.”

  Harper’s eyebrows raised and her mouth formed an ‘o’ of delight. “Oh, shit, girl, you are bad!

  “Shh!”

  Harper sighed. “I’m sorry, Aurora, I should never have introduced you to those guys. It was just that I was seeing Denny then and I needed you as my wingman… The more you tell me about Brodie though, the more I realize that God doesn’t give with two hands.”

  “What d’you mean?”

  “I mean, it’s a rare thing for someone to be blessed with incredible looks and a fully-functioning brain, you know? Brodie might have the face and body of Adonis, but giving him a brain the size of a corn kernel is God’s way of balancing th
ings out.”

  Aurora scooped up another vegan scallop and dropped it onto the tray. “He is undeniably hot.”

  “Too hot for his own good,” Harper said.

  “And he sure does live up to the surname of ‘Wood’, that’s for damned sure,” Aurora said, with a crooked smile.

  Harper giggled and then said, “Yeah, he can be as handsome as he likes and have a cock carved by Michelangelo, but if he’s the sort of guy who couldn’t pour piss out of a boot even if the instructions were on the sole, then I’m sorry, girl, I don’t think he’s the one you came here for.”

  Aurora looked at her friend and smiled.

  “Thanks, Harp,” she said.

  “You know I’m always in your corner,” Harper said.

  Aurora retrieved the last vegan scallop and the two young women stood.

  “Now,” Harper said, brushing her hands off, “this ain’t no Nebraska hoe-down, honey. I helped get you this job and your performance reflects on me. You know I love every blonde hair on that head of yours, but you’ve got to pull that corn cob out of your ass and get it together tonight. Okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Alright then.”

  Harper gave her a quick and unprofessional hug and then stalked off into the glittering crowd, her heels clicking authoritatively across the polished floor.

  Aurora went back to the kitchen and dumped the tray of hor d’oeuvres, grabbed a fresh tray and headed back into the glittering throng

  Then she made a quick U-turn, heading back into the kitchen and snatching up the tray of ruined vegan canapés. She walked quickly out the service door and into the alleyway.

  “Jake,” she called softly.

  There was a rustling sound, and then a grubby man appeared from behind a dumpster.

  “Aurora?” he said.

  Jake was one of many New Yorkers who called the streets home. The gallery owner had been trying to have him run out of the alleyway for months, but he always slipped away whenever the cops were called. Instead of looking down on him like a lot of the other staff, Aurora had decided to help him by giving him the leftover food from the glitzy events that the gallery hosted.

  “Hey, I’ve got to be quick, but I’ve got all these nibbles for you, if you want them?”

  The homeless man’s eyes lit up. “Do I ever! It’s not too often that I get to eat – what’re these things?”

  “Vegan scallops.”

  Jake paused. “I thought scallops were them little shellfish. From the ocean.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, how do they make them vegan?”

  Aurora grinned. “Your guess is as good as mine. Look, take them quick! I’ve got to get back inside.”

  “Thanks, Aurora,” Jake said.

  “Just leave the tray by the door when you’re done, and I’ll grab it later.”

  “You got it.”

  It didn’t take long for the promise Aurora made to herself to ignore Brodie to go straight out the window. Her phone started vibrating, long and continuously, in her back pocket. The prolonged reverberations told her that she was now receiving a phone call rather than text messages. Aurora sidled behind an enormous fiddle leaf fig, pulled out the incessantly buzzing phone, and answered.

  “Brodie?” she whispered. “Brodie, I can’t talk right now! I’m at work!”

  Brodie Wood’s deep voice came so loudly out of the speaker that Aurora had to lower the volume.

  “Babe? What the fuck d’you mean you’re at work? I know you’re not at work. Who’re you with?”

  Aurora could instantly tell that Brodie had already consumed more than a few beers. No doubt he and his friends had hit a few bars before they’d decided to head into this party. She could hear the alcohol soaking his voice, giving it a slightly rougher edge.

  “I’m not with anyone – well, I guess I’m with a whole load of people, but I’m working at the gallery. At the gala …that swanky party that I mentioned?”

  “What? You didn’t tell me about any party! Who’s fucking party is this? And why’re you not coming to Richie’s party, huh?”

  It was like trying to have a conversation with a tree.

  “I’m not attending a party Brodie! I’m working one.”

  “Look, Aurora, babe, I know you’re kind of new to the city or whatever, but if you think that I appreciate being blown off by a girl who’s supposed to be my girlfriend, just so she can go off to some rich party, then you’re out of your mind.”

  “I’m not blowing you off, Brodie,” Aurora hissed down the phone, trying to make the gorgeous jackass understand the situation. “I’m just trying to tell you that I’m working. I’m not out –”

  “You know what?” Brodie cut in. “Why don’t you just save it. I don’t even care. Just do whatever you want, Aurora. If you’re just going to leave me hanging, then I don’t give a fuck!”

  “But, Brodie–”

  “You know what I think?” Brodie said, his words dripping with vindictive scorn. “I’ll tell you what I fuckin’ think you’re up to…”

  He started chewing into Aurora with the sort of pathetic and hurtful insults that would have been best suited to a high-school hallway. Despite her surroundings – or maybe because of them – Aurora felt herself tearing up.

  Wasn’t it enough that she was working her ass off at this job that she didn’t really care about, serving these rich people champagne, and fucking vegan scallops? Wasn’t it enough just trying to pay her bills, stay on top of her credit card, and get the rent in on time without having this jerk spitting venom down the phone at her? Aurora sniffed, willing the tears to evaporate.

  “Brodie, can’t we just talk about this l–”

  Suddenly, the phone was jerked out of Aurora’s hand. She spun about with a half-formed cry on her lips, and found herself face-to-face with Harper’s boss, Fiona Kerr.

  “Oh, hi,” Aurora said lamely, blinking hard and trying to casually brush the tears out of her eyes. She cleared her throat. “Um, hi, Fiona.”

  Fiona Kerr continued to scrutinize Aurora for an uncomfortable second or two. Then, holding the phone between thumb and forefinger, she shook it in front of Aurora’s face. Aurora was sure that she could still hear Brodie’s drunken voice echoing down the phone.

  “Miss Laurent,” Fiona said, still swinging the phone gently from side to side, “do you see anything wrong with this picture?”

  Aurora stared meekly at the floor. She always found Fiona Kerr intimidating and always found herself tongue-tied when it came to conversing with the slightly older woman. It wasn’t because Fiona was a particularly mean supervisor, but more because she epitomized everything that Aurora wanted to be: a successful woman in a managerial role in one of New York City’s most prestigious art galleries. It was a position that, unlike the jobs held by the banking executives and property moguls strolling about and looking at the ridiculously overpriced penis statues that were on offer by the Danish artist, Aurora could realistically see herself occupying one day. With her shiny auburn hair and elegant suit, Fiona Kerr was a bit of a role model for the small town girl from Nebraska.

  “Miss Laurent?” Fiona prompted, breaking into Aurora’s daydreams, “do you think that this is the time to be taking personal calls?”

  Aurora, trying to retain as much dignity as she could while standing next to a large, neon pink sculpture of a flaccid penis, shook her head.

  “No,” Fiona Kerr said in a cool voice. “There are potential patrons out there, walking around with unfilled glasses. Do you think that anyone – no matter how rich – is likely to buy a six-foot penis while sober?”

  Aurora glanced up, but Fiona’s face was an impenetrable mask.

  “Start filling those glasses now, Miss Laurent,” she said, “or your pay check is going to be looking very much like those champagne flutes – empty.

  “Yes, Fiona,” Aurora gabbled, relieved that she was only getting a warning and nothing worse. “Sorry about the call, Fiona
. It’s just that my boyfriend is being a giant dick and I’m having a really hard time…” She trailed off, suddenly very aware of her choice of words and the way that they seemed to rebound off the myriad penis statues, carvings, and paintings that adorned the gallery walls and floor.

  Fiona Kerr’s gaze pierced Aurora like an ice-pick. “Miss Laurent, this night needs to be perfect. Mr. Hawthorn, whom you might or might not recognize, is here tonight. He is very rich and very well-connected, and has donated millions of dollars to this gallery over the course of the past four years. It is thanks to him that all of us have jobs.” Fiona’s mouth twitched. “I think it was his money that brought this rather…interesting…collection all the way from Copenhagen to New York for our gala this evening.”

  Aurora had to fight hard to stifle her disbelief that someone would actually pay money to ship a load of cocks all the way from Denmark to the States.

  “Now, get your butt back out there and make sure that nobody sees the bottom of their glasses until the auction starts.”

  “Yes, Fiona. You’ve got it, Fiona. Sorry again.”

  Fiona Kerr passed her back her phone and then watched as Aurora hastened away to get a fresh bottle of champagne.

  It was about fifteen minutes later that the cursed phone went off in her pocket yet again. Luckily, Aurora was in the washroom at the time. It was a text from Brodie:

  ‘We’re DONE, bitch. If you’re country ass is too cool to hang out with me and my friends then I’ll see you Around, and New York will be seeing more of you than they’re ready for!! There are plenty more fish in the nyc. Peace.’

  For a few moments, Aurora just sat on the toilet and stared blankly at the screen. Weirdly, her hands were shaking. She sighed and closed her bright blue eyes.

  And dropped her phone into the toilet bowl.

  “Shit!”

  She fished it out with a speed she didn’t know she had, drying it off with handfuls of toilet paper. It seemed to still be working fine. That would’ve been the salt in the wound alright. The expense of buying a new phone was something she absolutely did not need.