Billionaire Wedding: Brooklyn's Baby (Interracial Billionaire Wedding Romance) ( Contemporary Taboo Alpha Male Wedding Romance) (7 page)

              During dinner, Mercedes asked about his secretary, Lillian Harris. Her curiosity about the faceless woman was starting to get the better of her. “What about her?” Kerry asked, not sure what Mercedes’ fascination was.

              “Honestly?” Mercedes blushed. “She is the one who sent me that suit. She had a letter attached to it, telling me to wear it to our meeting this morning.”

              Kerry shrugged. “That’s a little odd. I did not tell her to do that. I only asked that she handle settling your debt with the landlord for me. And that’s a lot of extra work to go get a suit for someone who is just a temp.”

              “A temp?” Mercedes questioned.

              “Yes,” Kerry said, “She’s staying with us until the end of the year when Julie, another of my secretaries, gets back from maternity leave.”

              “So Miss Harris is not on vacation?” Mercedes asked.

              “No?” Kerry looked at her curiously, “She was gone today. She called in sick after leaving your apartment last night. What made you think she was on vacation?”

              Mercedes felt that she was about to get the woman in trouble, so she simply shrugged Kerry’s question off. “I’m not sure why I thought that.” She decided not to mention the dress to Kerry. This woman was being kind to her, so she did not want her to get in trouble for ditching work. The inconsistencies between Miss Harris’ claims in the letter and what Kerry was telling her only furthered Mercedes’ curiosity.

              “If it means anything to you, Miss Harris’ husband owns another Construction business- his is just outside of the city, though. He and I are contracting for a merger right now,” Kerry explained, “She’s not a particularly good secretary - it’s obvious she’s never worked a day in her life, but she does her best.  During a meeting with her and her husband I mentioned one of my secretaries being out on maternity leave and me having a hard time finding a good replacement. She acted as though she had done that type of work before and offered to fill in. I think it was an attempt at brown-nosing me on her husband’s behalf. She’s an interesting character to say the least. I really don’t know what to think about the woman. It is honestly pretty odd having another CEO’s wife play secretary in my office building.”

              Mercedes chuckled. “What a strange woman.”

              When dinner was finished the two of them headed outside. Kerry offered to drive her home himself, but Mercedes quickly turned down the offer. “I think I’ll just have Yury drive me home. Why did you hire him for your driver by the way?”

              Kerry shrugged. “I needed a new driver, and you said you liked him so I considered that a recommendation.”

              Mercedes felt that there was something more to Kerry’s casual reasoning, but she did not bother him about it. Yury pulled up, happily greeting them both and opening the door for Mercedes. “I’ll see you Monday, n” Kerry told her as Yury was closing the door. Yury pulled the car out of the lot, humming to himself as he drove. He was quietly playing some Russian music through his radio.

              “Monday,” she said under her breath, hardly able to imagine what the following week would bring her.

***

              Mercedes was surprised at how incredibly nervous she was as she headed towards the construction site in Queens. Yury was, of course, her driver. “You going make excellent foreman,” he told her, although she was certain he was not sure what a foreman was. “You do good, Miss Mercado.” He tried to reassure her and she smiled, starting to enjoy listening to Yury’s blaring foreign music he liked to play when he drove her. He was already becoming very comfortable around her. She had learned a little bit about his wife since they had first met. She worked a waitress in a local diner. He claimed she knew English far better than he did because she had learned it in school very young.

              “Thanks, Yury,” she said. Today she wore a pair of snug blue jeans and midriffs. It was a comfortable enough attire to wear all day on site. At last, the vehicle pulled up at the desired location. Upon exiting, she gazed out at the barren scape of dirt patches that would eventually house a small skyscraper. “I hope I can do this,” she uttered nervously, feeling as though her boots were glued to the sidewalk. A part of her was wondering if she had bit off a bit more than she could chew.

              “Goodbye, Miss Mercado!  Good luck your first day.” Yury sang before climbing back into the company vehicle.

              Mercedes crossed onto the property, taking in her surroundings before addressing any of her workmen. To the left were a number of campers set up; these would be her on-cite office suits. Straight ahead was the construction zone, a large patch of dirt. Most of the materials were scattered about in a somewhat orderly fashion. The men, all dressed in jeans, t-shirts, and hardhats, had found some seats near the piling of scraps. Most of them were enjoying their morning coffee, all far too distracted in conversation to have noticed her arrival. The ring leader of the group seemed to be the large, burly looking man who was standing upright and telling some sort of story about some girl he had gotten with over the weekend. Mercedes rolled her eyes, but she was used to this kind of talk. As a female mechanic, she had spent most of her life surrounded by burly men who enjoyed locker-room like tales. This would not be so different as far of the types of brutes she would be dealing with.

              Before dealing with the men, she headed to inspect the trailers. She entered inside and was rather pleased to discover that they were air conditioned. There was a couch and television set up as well a well-stocked fridge and to her left was a separate office space for her specifically; the door read
Foreman’s Office
. She entered the office area and threw her purse and paperwork down. There was a large, cushioned chair in one corner and a desk set-up in the other. “Not bad,” she said. This was certainly more than she had expected. Deciding she had wasted enough time exploring, Mercedes exited the camper and headed towards the group of construction workers to get them started on their first assignments.

              As she came closer, unnoticed by the men, she was able to eavesdrop on their conversation after realizing she had become the topic at hand. “So has anyone seen what this chick supposedly looks like?” one man asked.

              “I don’t know. I think she’s a Mexican or something,” said another.

              The burly gang-leader snarled a bit. “Some MIT bitch who never graduated. I dare her to try to tell me what to do. She must have slept around to get this job.” The man was not pleased at all with the choice in foreman.

              “Easy, Al.” said the first man, “You know old Kerry isn’t like that.”

              The gang-leader, whose name was evidently Al, snorted, “
Every
guy’s like that. I’m not putting up with this crap. It’s bad enough he’s brought some immigrant broad on board, but this one’s not even qualified from what I hear.” Al was fuming. “I shouldn’t have to put up with this kind of crap at a company like this. I’ve been working here for years. I won’t listen to a word-”

              Mercedes loudly cleared her throat; the men embarrassingly all stood upright, acknowledging that they had been caught in conversation against her. “Immigrant broad, huh? Is that you think, you sack of shit?”

Her language surprised the men, but Al did not seem the least bit embarrassed compared to the rest of them. He was not going to back down, it seemed. “Do you even know anything about construction, sweetie?” he mocked. He had stood upright and had rolled his eyes at her while the others had backed down and embarrassingly looked away.

“I wouldn’t have gotten the job otherwise, dip-shit,” she said, “And let’s go ahead and get everything out on the table right now. I’m in charge, not you.”

“We’ll see,” Al huffed and poked out his chest.

Mercedes came right up to him and poked a finger into his puffed-out chest. “Are you and I going to have a problem?”

Al gritted his teeth, “I’m not listening to some hussy-”

Mercedes held her palm up to his face and took a sudden step forward. She did not have to touch him, but the man was a bit surprised by her movement and took an abrupt step back, tripping on a misplaced pipe and landing flat on his rear. The other men laughed loudly and uncontrollably at Al’s stumble. “Shut the hell up!” her voice roared and the laughter subsided, “You’re my bitch here, big man,” she said down at Al. “And you can either learn to roll with it or you can pack up your things and get lost because I won’t put up with any sexist, racist bull on your part here.” She then held out a hand to Al to help him stand. “Do we understand each other?”

She waited, hoping that Al had bought the tough-boss act. He reached out his hand and she helped him stand. Mercedes felt relieved, but she tried not to show it. “All right,” Al said and straightened himself up. “Someone get the lady a hardhat.”

Mercedes fought to keep from grinning. Al smiled at her, noticing her struggle. “All of you need to know,” she said strongly, “that if you do right by me; I’ll do right by you. Let’s make this a pleasurable experience, shall we? Let’s get to work, gentlemen,” she said confidently and began to assign the day’s duties. To the men’s surprise, Mercedes had studied well who she would be dealing with and assigned each man to his strongest skill-set without even having to ask them. She knew who she was dealing with and had done her research well. The men were impressed as Mercedes got them ahead of schedule on the very first day at the new build site.

When the day finally came to a close, the men (even Al) all happily bid their farewells to their new boss. Mercedes looked out at the construction site, quite pleased at how far along they had already gotten on the first day. She locked up and headed for the gate where she spotted Kerry O’Brian standing on the sidewalk, smiling. “Well, well, well,” he teased as she approached him. “I cannot believe you got this group working together so well.”

She frowned, “You set me up, didn’t you?” she had read right through his smile. “You sick bastard. You knew this was a rotten group, didn’t you?  You set me up!” She berated him generously for the ruse; he had intentionally given her a difficult group of men to work with.  It was no wonder he had already had to fire the first foreman.

“They’re good workers,” Kerry said, his arms crossed. “But yeah, I did a little, I suppose. This group is a handful, so I needed someone to lead them who was a handful themselves.”

Mercedes turned up her nose. “Are you saying I’m just like those apes?”

He stepped towards her and put his hand on his hips; he tried to be sly about it, but she saw him look her up and down when he said, “Believe me, Mercedes, I can tell that you are all woman.”

              There was a part of her that still could not tell whether or not she liked this Kerry person. He had a special way of offending her and making her feel complimented all at once. “Oh?” she hissed slightly. It had been a fairy rough first day, and it appeared as though he had expected it to be as such and had offered her little warning. She wondered if it was some sort of revenge scheme for embarrassing him during their first encounter, but she could not be sure.

              Kerry smiled, “I’m glad it went well.  Let’s celebrate. I’ll take you to lunch tomorrow?”

              “Sure,” Mercedes said quickly, far too quickly for her taste. She was a surprised at herself.

              “Excellent!” he said. “Would you care for me to drive you home tonight?”

              “No thank you,” Mercedes said, far too annoyed with Kerry to even consider taking him up on his offer. “I think I’ll just have Yury take me.” She pointed out into the street where the Brian O’Brian Enterprises company van was parked. “Looks like he’s already waiting.”

              “You have a good evening, Mercedes,” he said, still smiling like he always did.

              She nodded approvingly and forced herself to say, “Same to you, Kerry.”

***

              Mercedes found herself smiling when Kerry opened the door for her into the quaint little restaurant in Queens that he had chosen for lunch. It was a nice place that hosted entertainment on the weekends; it was certainly a step up from the little diner they had gone to.
One day
, she thought jokingly,
maybe I’ll work my way up to him taking me to one of those five star restaurants.
The floors were red carpets, and there were curtains draped over the windows. The low lighting and cheap-looking chandeliers gave off a romantic vibe. While it was not a high-end restaurant, it was still a lot classier than anything she had ever stepped foot in before. There was even a few pieces of artwork hanging on some of the walls to add to the overall effect.

              The server brought out menus and spoke to Kerry by name. Mercedes chuckled as the woman headed off to place their drink orders. “Do you know everyone?” Mercedes asked.

              “Here I do,” Kerry said.

              Within minutes of the server disappearing, a tall, old man came hurrying out of the back of the restaurant. He had apparently been informed that Kerry O’Brian was present. The Irish-looking man smiled brightly as he came towards their table. “Hold on a second, Mercedes,” Kerry said as he stood to embrace the man. “Jonathan, good to see you!”

              The old man sat down in the empty seat at the table for a moment. “I have not seen you in so long - where have you been, Kerry?” the man asked in a thick Celtic accent.

              Mercedes watched the interaction curiously, keeping quiet so as not to interrupt. In the midst of the conversation, Mercedes noticed a slight accent in Kerry’s voice appearing. “Working,” Kerry said, “Business has been good, and you?”

              “Eh, business is so-so,” the man said. “How’s your mother doing? She doing any better?”

              “Much better, thank you,” Kerry said.

              “Ah, I almost did not see you had a guest with you! Forgive my intrusion.” The old man stood and grabbed Kerry’s face with both his hands kissing him atop his head. “You send your mama my love.”

              Kerry thanked him and the man disappeared behind the back doors. Mercedes eyed Kerry for a moment before questioning him, “How do you know him? Is the owner?”

              “Yes. He’s the owner,” Kerry said. “Sorry about that. He’s rarely here anymore. I didn’t expect him to get so excited. His family and my parents came to the States together a few years before I was born.”

              Suddenly a lot of Kerry’s peculiar behavior started to make sense. “Your parents were immigrants? From Ireland?”

              “Yes,” he said, sounding very prideful of that fact.

              “Where’s your accent?” she teased.

              “Where’s yours?” he teased back. He blushed a little. “I guess I lost it over the years. My parents never had strong accents themselves.”

              “You gave Yury that job because he’s an immigrant like your father was?” Mercedes asked.

              Kerry shrugged his shoulders. “My parents came here with nothing but the clothes on their backs- not a penny to their name. I remember growing up how hard it was for my father to find work before he got his citizenship. It’s difficult. If I can help, why not?”

              “And the diner we went to the other day?” she questioned.

              “I guess I tend to do a lot of my personal business… shopping, eating out… at immigrant-owned businesses. They’re the same places my parents would shop when I was a kid. Old habits, you know?”  He was not exactly a rich guy performing acts of charity for the press; he was merely helping out those who were coming out of similar situations as himself. It was almost endearing. Kerry attempted to brush it off as though it was nothing, but Mercedes would not allow it.

              “You didn’t hire me just because you mistook me for an immigrant did you?” she asked.

              He laughed, “It never crossed my mind that you could be from out of the States with that Brooklyn accent of yours.”

              “My grandfather came to the States from Guatemala,” Mercedes said, “He married my grandmother soon after moving to Brooklyn. The family has been there ever since. Did your father help you start up the business?”

              He smiled, “He helped a little. Brian O’Brian Enterprises was my project, though. My father used to own part of the restaurant here. He and Eric, the older gentleman who was just here, they started it up together.”

              Mercedes felt a hint of compassion for Kerry and his family. She never would have imagined that the son of an immigrant could have created such a lucrative corporation. She truly felt as though she had misjudged him. They finished lunch, and Kerry escorted her back to the construction site before departing back to the main office building on Lexington Avenue. Mercedes felt slightly distracted that day at work, but she did her best not to let it affect her duties as foreman.

              When at last the day was over, Mercedes locked up and headed out as she had done the day before. Much to her surprise, Kerry was once again waiting for her outside of the fences. She felt butterflies in her stomach when she saw him. “Just checking up on the site,” he lied. She knew he had come there for her, and she was glad. Although she would not say it aloud, she secretly hoped that he would offer her a ride home again. Much to her satisfaction, he asked, “Would you like for me to take you home?” and she could sense a bit of nerves in his voice at the request.

              “I would,” she said and saw his eyes sparkle a bit. They walked together to his car; he opened up the door for her and attempted to make awkward small talk while fumbling with his car keys.

              He drove a large SUV. The two of them rode mostly in silence back to Brooklyn. There was something taking place that neither of them could fully explain. They managed to talk about the construction project and she went into detail about how the work was going so far and told him the story about her first interaction with Al. He laughed hysterically about it, and she was glad to see that she could make him laugh so full-heartedly. He spoke some about the merger taking place at Brian O’Brian and the Harris construction company, but much of his technical business talk went over her head and was frankly a bit boring. The SUV pulled up in front of her apartment building. Something inside of her wanted to spend more time with Kerry that day, “Would you like to come up and have a drink?” she asked .

              He nodded, “I would love to.”

              The two of them entered into the apartment building and headed up the two flights of stairs. They entered into the apartment and for a moment Mercedes felt slightly embarrassed by its condition, “I guess you’re used to nicer places than this, huh?” she mumbled.

              Kerry laughed, “Are you kidding? I grew up in an apartment just like this.” This made her feel relieved, but she supposed she should have known that after their conversation from lunch. She searched her cabinets, finding a bottle of red wine. “I thought you said whiskey was your drink?” Kerry asked.

              “You remember me saying that?” she asked embarrassingly as she recalled the day she had spent at his office after making a fool of herself in the lobby.

              “I do.” He grinned.

              She opened up the bottle of wine and poured two generous glasses. They sipped on the wine for a moment when she recalled a dessert she had in the fridge. “Do you like chocolate cake?”

              “Who doesn’t like chocolate cake?” he grinned.

              She pulled out the cake she had picked up from a nearby bakery and cut a slice for them to share. Soon the two of them were on their second glasses of wine, sitting on the worn-out futon, and nibbling on the luscious cake. “This has got to be the best chocolate cake I have ever had,” he told her. “Just don’t tell my mother I said that. She makes a mean chocolate fudge.”

              “My father was never much of a baker,” she said.

              “Did your mom ever bake?” he asked.

              Perhaps it was the wine, but Mercedes suddenly found herself talking to Kerry about everything that had been bothering her so recently. She told him about her mother leaving when she was just a little girl, how she left them for a rich guy promising to get her out of Brooklyn. She told him about going to MIT and dropping out to help out at the garage when her father had become ill. She talked about her Uncle Tito and the role he had had in raising her up. They talked about happier times as well, about her father teaching her how to work on cars and motorcycles from the time she was old enough to handle a wrench. She even told Kerry about the pet name her father had given her:
Vroom
. Kerry found the name adorable and picked on her about it.

Kerry opened up also. Mercedes learned about how poverty-stricken his family had been, sharing an apartment with the family of the restaurant owner, Eric. “I never had my own bed growing up,” he said. “I shared one with two of Eric’s sons.” He talked about working long hours in the restaurant, often missing school when they were short on servers. He passionately spoke about the time from when he was sixteen to nineteen when he had dropped out of school and run away, getting into some terrible habits, and about the gracious day when he decided to return home to his loving family and reconcile broken relationships. A few tears formed in his eyes while he talked about those lost years and how foolish his younger self had been. He had gone back to high school and even obtained a scholarship to a local college. Not long after graduating, he had started up Kerry O’Brian’s Construction which eventually became Brian O’Brian Enterprises after a number of wise investments and business deals.

              The two of them talked and finished off their slice of chocolate cake and a countless number of glasses of wine. They were laughing happily, swapping stories of their childhood. She told him about her ex-boyfriend, Ernie, who had worked in the garage and all the trouble the two of them had gotten into. She and Ernie were a terrible pair. They had fed off each other’s troublesome natures. “God, Dad hated him,” Mercedes laughed. “They got along when they could, though.”

              “Whatever happened to Ernie?” Kerry asked, his eyebrow slightly raised.

              “Prison,” she said.

              Kerry laughed. “Well you know how to pick them, don’t you?”

              “You have no idea.” She laughed along with him at her foolishness, although she admitted that Ernie had been one of her healthier relationships.

They were sitting close together now, their legs touching. Her head was spinning slightly, but she was well aware of what was about to take place. They had
accidentally
touched one another’s hands several times. She playfully touched the side of his arm when he said something funny. Kerry’s hand landed on her knee and it slowly slid down towards her inner thigh, but he stopped before going too far. He looked at her and leaned in just a bit, hoping she would meet him halfway. He seemed to be begging for a sign from her, but she was too cut off in nature to lay out her own desires so soon.  Mercedes decided to wait and see if he would push further; she wanted to know that he was eager. She wanted him to make the first move, so she sat back and waited. She batted her eyes and could see the eagerness in his. He continued to search for a sign from her as to whether or not it was okay to push forward, but she refused to offer him one. With each passing second of silence, he seemed to become more desperate for her to either pull him in closer or to push his hand away. She wanted him to be a man and go for it. When enough time had passed and she had made it clear that she was not going to move, he became slightly hesitant and there was a long pause.

At last, he took the leap and kissed her. She rewarded him graciously and kissed him back several times for taking the chance. She put her arms around his neck and pulled their lips apart for a moment so as to catch her breath. He used this opportunity to move his head down and kiss the side of her neck. She squeezed him tightly and playfully sucked on his ear.

              Kerry pulled her up onto his lap and began working his hand up under her shirt. She turned to face him, sitting in his lap facing towards him and removed her shirt entirely without warning him; she straddled his lap and watched his reaction to seeing her black bra. His eyes widened with upmost pleasure; his face at the perfect angle to kiss her between her breasts. His arms went around her waist; he pulled her closer to him. She felt the two of them slipping off the futon. He suddenly spun her about and lifted her up off the ground. He cradled her in his arms, kissing her as he carried her to the bedroom.

              He kicked opened the door and the two of them fell into the bed.
Thank God I did laundry finally
, she thought, imagining how filthy her room had been just days before. His hands worked devotedly to get her undressed as quickly as possible, tossing her bra clear across the room while her jeans and underwear slid off the bottom of the bed. She laid out completely naked before him. He was still fully dressed apart from his shoes that he had thrown off before landing on the bed. His lips and his hands explored her body and she felt his hand grab between her legs and he stimulated her until she cried out from the pleasurable sensation. He moved downward, kissing her thighs and then taking a moment to pleasure her with his lips and tongue, nibbling at her gently until she let out a soft, excited shout. “Take your clothes off,” she demanded, starting to feel somewhat self-conscious.  Kerry quickly obeyed and immediately took her into his embrace after undressing. He told her she was beautiful, and she blushed for this was not the sort of bedroom talk she was at all used to.