The Billionaire's Boxing Day Bargain Read online

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  By Ava Hayden

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  The Billionaire’s Boxing Day Bargain

  By Ava Hayden

  Milo is too nice to say no when the desperate call goes out for more staff to work Boxing Day at Eden Consumer Electronics. It’s just until they sell the door-crasher specials, but it means he can’t see his billionaire boyfriend Lance until later that day.

  Lance spends December 25 jetting back from a business trip, eager to see Milo. He calls as soon as his flight lands Boxing Day morning, only to find out that seven hundred and thirty televisions are cock-blocking him.

  What’s the point of being a billionaire if you can’t spend your way around obstacles? Milo doesn’t want Lance solving his problems with cash, but he’ll never find out because Lance’s efficient personal assistant, William, is on the case. Unfortunately, even billionaires are subject to the law of unintended consequences—and these aren’t the kind Lance can buy his way out of.

  Will Lance and Milo have their Boxing Day date? Or have Lance’s pushy billionaire ways finally gone too far?

  To my sweetie, who doesn’t like romance but reads my drafts anyway.

  WHO LINES up in -13˚C at nowhere near the crack of dawn on Boxing Day?

  Milo Souza peered out at the mall parking lot through the darkened store’s glass front entrance. Almost 6:00 a.m. on Boxing Day and only twenty shivering individuals waited in the meandering line that started at the doors of Eden Consumer Electronics. Several hundred people dressed for the cold stood in line at the neighboring business, Futuro. Some of them must have arrived hours ago. In the million-plus resident city of Oilton, Alberta, Boxing Day shopping was a blood sport.

  “How many?” Connor called.

  “Twenty or so,” Milo said. He didn’t mention the hundreds in line at Futuro. No need to make Connor feel any worse than he already did.

  Futuro had a 65-inch Ultra HD HDR Curved LED Tizen smart television for $1000 off the already-discounted price, placing the price point well under $1000. Eden Consumer Electronics’ Boxing Day door-crasher special was a 32-inch 720p LED TV for $200.

  Connor’s shoulders slumped, and he retreated.

  At least they wouldn’t have to worry about someone being trampled American-style when they unlocked the doors. Milo shook his head and then followed Connor to the stockroom.

  “Doors open in ten,” Connor said.

  The back-access door slammed and footsteps slap-slapped in their direction. Missy, Connor’s seven-months-pregnant wife, rounded the end of a shelving unit, moving like the Queen Mary at sea.

  “Good morning.” She carried a large pink box, and Milo’s mouth watered instantly in response. “I brought Sukey’s Donuts.” She continued toward the corner they used for a break space.

  Vinh, a high school senior, brightened. Brenna, a university student, leaned against a tall storage locker and smothered a yawn.

  “Thanks, honey,” Connor said. He smiled, his face momentarily free of the worried expression it habitually wore. He turned back to the group. “Okay, guys, we’re hoping for a big day today. Since we’re a little short-staffed, Missy will work register two.” He walked them through their opening duties and asked if there were questions.

  No one spoke, and as the lights came up across the store, they all went to what Connor called their battle stations. Milo hoped it wouldn’t come to battle. Next door at Futuro, it just might.

  Connor unlocked the doors, and the waiting line filed in, each shopper courteously holding the door for the person following. Vinh tore off numbered tickets from a roll and handed them over, one per customer, explaining that they could use the ticket to purchase a sale-priced television at the register, where Connor stood beside a trolley stacked with merchandise. By 7:00 a.m. they’d sold twenty of the 750 televisions that Eden Consumer Electronics’ corporate management had shipped for the Boxing Day door-crasher special.

  Milo walked up and down the aisles, straightening the shelf stock. The Christmas decorations that had seemed festive on Christmas Eve now looked tired and dismal, like revelers who wake up the morning after an epic party still dressed in their finery, stained and reeking of spilled booze and ground-in hors d’oeuvres. He felt hungover just looking at the gaudy displays.

  Milo’s phone trilled, and he extracted it from his pocket. Lance. He scanned the store. Vinh stood near the front doors, holding the roll of tickets. Brenna assisted a customer, one of five in the store. The other four were yawning men who browsed the special sale displays with expressions that suggested they were killing time until the food court opened while their significant others fought for Boxing Day markdowns in the Bay. Connor wrestled a trolley of televisions through the stockroom doors.

  We’re not busy. I’ll make it fast. Milo dropped into a crouch so customers couldn’t see him on the phone. “Lance. Where are you?”

  LANCE SMITH sipped juice and stretched out in an oversized reclining seat as his private jet taxied. “We just landed.” He spoke softly to avoid waking his personal assistant, William Brisbane, slumbering in the seat across from him. “I loved hearing your voice on my messages. Not so much what you said.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. I couldn’t say no.”

  Lance considered his next words. Milo’s pride could turn him prickly in an instant. “I understand. Connor asked a favor.”

  “Well—he did give me a job when I needed one.”

  True. And if he hadn’t, Lance would most likely never have met Milo.

  Nine months earlier, Lance had been wandering the aisles of Futuro for twenty minutes when he finally spotted someone wearing a Kelly green vest. He’d tried self-help with zero success, so he approached the squatting employee straightening shelves.

  “I’m wondering if you can help me.” Lance peered at a nametag. “Ryder.”

  “Absolutely, sir. You bet. What can I do you for?” Not bothering to stand, the employee pushed his glasses up his nose and gave Lance a wide smile belied by glinting eyes that conveyed a different message: I’m busy, fuck off.

  You can’t do me, you officious little prick. Lance schooled his expression, which had just gone maximum hauteur, going by the way Ryder’s grin disappeared and his eyes narrowed.

  “Ryder, aisle ten. Ryder, customer assistance in aisle ten.”

  “That’s me.” Ryder stood and wiped his hands on his pants. “If you need some help, customer service can find someone.” He pointed. “See, back in the corner?”

  Hard to miss with those giant yellow letters: Customer Service—It’s always our pleasure to help you! Also hard to miss that there isn’t anyone behind the counter and there hasn’t been in the last twenty minutes.

  “Just head over there.” Ryder flapped a hand in the direction of the sign and ambled away in no particular hurry.

  Lance most certainly would not. He couldn’t decide if he was more annoyed with his sister or himself. Elise had hinted a birthday gift with the personal touch would be a nice surprise, and he’d temporarily lost his mind and decided to shop for a present himself. Why didn’t I go online? Better yet, turn the whole mess over to William, who would have delegated it to a staff member capable of finding a gift that felt like something I could have picked out if I’d had the time. But no, he canceled a half day of appointments and spontaneously drove himself to the mall to shop, something he hadn’t done since he earned his first billion.

  Lance scowled and marched toward the exit. Outside, the sign on the storefront next door made him pause: Eden Consumer E
lectronics. I’ve already wasted my morning. I might as well see what this place has.

  Inside, a man stocking a display turned at the tone announcing Lance’s arrival, and he gave a friendly smile as he pushed to his feet. Lance stepped forward, got a closer look, and inhaled hard.

  The man walking toward him had medium-length coarse, dark brown hair, the kind that appeared inky under some lights, and his eyes were the color of blackstrap molasses, with flecks of gold. His jaw was well-defined, and he looked solid, like he’d be good at rugby but maybe a little slow on a tennis court. As he neared, the name stitched onto his staff red polo shirt came into view: Milo. Underneath it: We want to delight you!

  “Can I help you?” Milo flicked his gaze up and down Lance once.

  I’ve just been checked out, but discreetly. Nice. “I’m looking for a birthday gift for my sister.” Milo’s ring finger was bare. Promising. “I want to… delight her.” Lance let his gaze roam down Milo’s torso, pause at his junk, continue to his generic brown Oxford shoes, and then meander back to those eyes that made him think of Ferrero Rocher chocolates. “I’m prepared to spend for the right present.”

  Milo swallowed. “Okay, um… did you have something in mind?”

  “No. She doesn’t actually need anything.”

  Milo’s smile enchanted him. “So, a gift for the woman who has everything.”

  “Yes.”

  Milo looked away, thinking. He tapped a finger on his lower—firm yet sensuous and oh-so-tempting—lip, and then turned back to Lance. “How about something from our Smart Home collection?” He didn’t wait for Lance to agree. “It’s over here.”

  When Milo led the way, Lance followed, admiring the view from the rear. Milo’s looks made Lance think of a young Rupert Graves playing Alec Scudder in Maurice. Dress him like that early twentieth-century English working-class under-gamekeeper—or in those old-fashioned cricket flannels Alec wore—and yes, he fit right into Lance’s fantasies.

  Milo stopped before a display. He pointed to… a showerhead? “This is our smart shower system.”

  Lance stepped closer for a better view, and Milo followed, standing near enough that Lance could tell he’d applied something with a hint of sandalwood that morning. Aftershave, perhaps. Even freshly shaved, his face bore traces of a heavy beard. If he goes out at night, I’ll bet he has to shave again. He shouldn’t. He’d be absolutely edible with stubble.

  “It comes with default programs, or you can custom program up to ten different showers—how hot, how long, what type of spray, and….” Milo leaned in and flipped a switch. “You’ve got colors you can set so you know where you are in your program. Most people use red for the last phase. Just gives you a heads-up that the shower is almost over.” A showerhead with LED lights flashed a sequence of bright colors: orange, blue, green, yellow, purple, red.

  Wonder if any of the default programs are for shower sex?

  Milo glanced at Lance as if to gauge his reaction, and Lance gave him an encouraging smile. Milo continued.

  “It saves money too because it heats up the water and then waits for you.” Milo turned back to the display and triggered another switch. “You can add music.” The lights rippled to an Enya hit from decades ago.

  Lance couldn’t stop a startled laugh. “Good God.”

  Milo stopped the music, and the lights returned to a rotation through all the colors. “It’s compatible with all the top Smart Home systems, and you can also run it from a phone app.”

  “So colors can mean stages of a shower program… do they have to?”

  “No. You can set up a random play with as few or as many colors as you want. There’s a Clear if you want no color at all. Or you could use the rainbow effect preset.” Milo’s gaze slid down Lance’s torso.

  Lance ran a finger along the brushed nickel model. “I do like a rainbow effect,” he murmured. He felt rather than saw Milo’s sharp glance.

  “The price includes installation. We partner with contractors who’ve been trained by the manufacturer.”

  “Right. Good to know. And what is the price?”

  “If you get all the bells and whistles, it’s $1500, including tax and installation.”

  $1500? That was petty cash.

  Milo cleared his throat. “We also offer a package with fewer programs and features for $1000.”

  Lance considered a moment. Elise loved high-tech gadgets, most of all those that none of her friends had, and this one might actually be useful as well as fun. He turned to Milo and tilted his lips into a smile. Milo stared at his mouth. Elise always told him she should have been the one born with fabulous dimples.

  A man emerged from the back of the store and crossed to a young woman checking inventory near the front doors.

  The man glanced over his shoulder and caught Milo’s gaze. Lance could read the look. You good?

  Milo lifted his chin and returned his attention to Lance.

  “I’ll take two smart shower systems.”

  Milo’s eyes widened, and Lance chuckled.

  “Why should my sister have all the fun?”

  ACROSS FROM Lance, William jerked in his seat and straightened, blinking. “We landed,” he said, then winced when he saw Lance was on the phone. “Sorry,” he mouthed.

  Lance smiled and shook his head to indicate his tense expression had nothing to do with William, but at the same time, he felt a stab of guilt. William was his father’s age. Lance should let him enjoy time off, instead of dragging him to Singapore for critical business negotiations that had them in the air on Christmas Day, so Lance could get back to Milo as quickly as possible. Lance had every intention of making it up to Milo for the missed holiday. He wasn’t sure how to do that for William—or if he even could. He had doubled William’s annual bonus and hoped he held no grudges.

  “Are you still there?” Milo asked.

  “Sorry.” Lance pushed his seat upright and concentrated on sounding calm. Not distracted. Not annoyed. “How long do you have to work?”

  “Until all the televisions sell. I promised I’d stay at least that long.”

  “How many are left?”

  “Um….”

  Lance didn’t like the sound of that um and the pause that followed.

  “Seven hundred and thirty.”

  Lance couldn’t hide his dismay. “Seven hundred and thirty televisions still to sell?”

  William paused in the middle of wiping his face with a hot towel offered by an attendant. He raised a brow.

  Lance chewed his lower lip as Milo described the deals next door and elsewhere in the mall compared to what Eden Consumer Electronics had on offer.

  “I’m sorry,” said Milo. “I didn’t realize what I was agreeing to when I said yes, but I can’t back out. Almost no one wanted to work Boxing Day, and Connor’s too nice to force people.”

  Too nice to be in that kind of business, then. Lance grimaced and dropped his head back against the buttery-soft leather headrest. Don’t be a callous ass. He got it. He really did. Connor was hoping for a big day to make up for a year’s worth of poor ones. The same economy that had put Milo out of work had also tanked the store’s sales. Milo wouldn’t leave Connor high and dry today.

  The plane halted. Lance ignored the bustle of the crew preparing for their exit. “It’s fine. You let me know when you’re free.” He lowered his voice. “I was looking forward to having the day with you. I missed you.”

  “Me too.” Milo’s voice held a smile.

  “You—” Lance began, but Milo cut him off.

  “Got a customer. See you later.”

  Lance stared at his phone as his brain chewed over possible actions. The situation required a delicate touch, deft handling. He looked up to find William watching with a look that somehow managed to be knowing, interested, and resigned in equal measure.

  “All right,” William said with a half smile. “What am I doing this Boxing Day?”

  Lance reddened but returned the smile. He would triple
William’s Christmas bonus.

  HOW LONG could it take to sell 730 televisions?

  Milo hoped someone—anyone—would ask for help. His last customer question had been an hour ago. People circled the mall parking lot, waiting for a space to open up, but while shoppers flooded into Futuro, they trickled into Eden Consumer Electronics.

  Part of the problem was that the store occupied the very tip of a sort of building peninsula jutting from the main mall space. Customers could only access the store from an entrance facing onto the parking lot. The store’s rent was cheaper because of the lack of direct mall access, but a business in this kind of space needed to be one that would drive foot traffic. Or it needed to offer deals people would go out of their way for.

  Vinh stood near the entrance, roll of tickets in hand, but most of the people venturing in didn’t want a door-crasher special. Many entered, took a cursory look at the sale items, and then walked straight out in search of better deals.

  “So much for a big Boxing Day,” Connor said from behind Milo.

  Milo turned. Connor’s face was gray. The smudges under his eyes had deepened from violet to purple. “It’s early yet,” Milo said. He flushed. That’s bullshit, and we both know it.

  Connor ran a finger along a display keyboard and straightened a promotional sign. Milo and Connor were the same age, but right now Connor looked a decade older. “I tried to tell my father-in-law… but he didn’t listen about Black Friday either….”

  Black Friday had been a disaster. Hundreds of Pulp ’N Gulps sat unsold in the stockroom.

  Why were Canadians making a big deal out of Black Friday in the first place? Oh right, because anything to make a buck. Or save a buck. Thanksgiving in Canada didn’t bear much resemblance to the US holiday. Canadians celebrated Thanksgiving on the second Monday of October and returned to work the next day. No lying around in a food-induced stupor over a long weekend. No day dedicated to shopping. Black Friday in Canada was just another work day. Not that that stopped every major retailer in Oilton from offering Black Friday specials, but most of them extended it a full seven or even ten days, calling it Black Friday Week so bargain hunters could come in on the weekend.