Shine Bright Like A Diamond Part 1

SHINE BRIGHT.

LIKE A DIAMOND.

A BWWM Billionaire Romance By..

SHERIE KEYS.

Summary.

Tyc.o.o.n Jacob Adamson is close to sealing the deal of a lifetime. The chance to own a diamond mine is just what he needs to take his jewelry business to the next level.

Only problem is that Jacob is a playboy and the owner of the mine only wants to do business with people who he considers honorable family men.

Jacob has no choice but to ask his intern, Almasi, to pose as his wife for this trip in order to secure the deal in return for a cut of the profits.

However, Jacob and Almasi had no idea that their partnership was about to develop in to something more and, just like diamonds, this could also be FOREVER.....

Chapter1.

Almasi Quinn sighed quietly as she waited for the bus to her downtown office. It had been a late night, and it was way too early for her to be awake and out of bed, let alone on a coffee run for her miserable colleagues. Everyone was either tired or hungover; the secretary Emilia hadn't even bothered to show up. The night before, they had been required to sit through some dull awards ceremony and then rub shoulders with the elite at the after party.

Almasi hated that kind of thing-schmoozing to get to the top. It felt dishonest and insincere. She would much rather make her way in the world through hard work than by making fake, superficial social connections. She sighed again and sipped her coffee-a dark roast with two creams and one sugar.

It was going to be a long day at the office, and she needed all of the energy she could get. The tray of paper cups full of boiling hot beverages she was holding was balanced precariously in her other hand. Yes, it was going to be a long, long day.

In a penthouse far away from the busy bus station, Jacob Adamson gazed down at the sleeping woman next to him. She had a pretty face and blonde hair that curled down to her shoulders. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were small and round, and the curve of her hips was visible from beneath the high thread count sheets of Jacob's bed. What was her name again? Emma? Emmy? He hadn't remembered in the hazy blur that was the night before.

There'd been a big awards ceremony, one of those formal corporate events with men in black ties and fancy suits and women in the tightest c.o.c.ktail dresses they could wear without causing a media scandal. And then, of course, the after party, where everyone from the CEOs and the managers to the interns and the a.s.sistants had gathered to celebrate. He hadn't noticed her in the crowd, but she made her way over to him, flirting and laughing, running one hand through her wavy hair while holding a c.o.c.ktail in the other one.

Neither of them had been terribly drunk or anything like that-just barely buzzed, and high on the excitement of the night-and he had made sure she was eager all the way back to his luxurious apartment and into his bedroom. They had taken his limousine, he remembered.

The rest was a fog of meaningless pa.s.sion in his mind. Clothes off, sloppy kisses, a brief pause to get a condom from the bedside drawer, and then some decently mind-numbing s.e.x. It hadn't been particularly remarkable-s.e.x without real feelings rarely was. But it had been a pleasant diversion, nevertheless, and now it was the morning after and there was a woman in his bed.

Suddenly, Jacob's thoughts were interrupted by a loud buzzing noise. Somewhere on the floor, his mobile phone was ringing. Jacob moved carefully so as not to disturb-Emily? Maybe her name was Emily-and retrieved it from the pocket of his suit jacket, which was laying crumpled on the floor next to a sequined gold dress. He looked at the caller ID. It was his office a.s.sistant, Jeremy Sanchez. Why was Jeremy calling so early?

"Jacob?"

Jacob yawned. "What is it, Jer?"

"Jacob, it is nine forty-two. I didn't want to bother you, but we have plans to go over for the diamond deal, and you were supposed to be at the office nearly an hour ago."

Jacob scoffed. "It can't be-" He looked at his watch. "Oh. d.a.m.n. Sorry, I will be there in ten minutes." He looked back at the bed. "Or, uh, well... maybe fifteen minutes."

"Thank you. See you then." Jeremy sounded stressed, but then again, Jeremy was always stressed. Jacob would make it up to him with a coffee later. He hung up and looked back at the sleeping woman on his bed. She was snoring quietly.

Well, first things first. He tiptoed to the closet and found a pressed shirt and some good pants. Buckling his belt, he went to the dresser and opened the drawer-slowly, so it would not creak-and picked out a decent looking tie. He then stepped into his bathroom, splashed some water on his face, and took in the sight that was his hair. Well, it was a little disheveled, but was that not the style lately, anyway? Jacob chuckled to himself quietly and got to work with a comb and some gel. He may be late, but he would be d.a.m.ned if he didn't look good. Once he was done getting ready, he scribbled a quick note to the maid about the woman in the bed, referring to her as "Em" (it was, after all, the safest bet), and made his way down to the lobby.

Flimsy coffee tray in hand, Almasi stepped off the bus feeling a little nauseous. She walked hastily up the steps to the enormous office building where she worked as an intern. As she turned the corner toward the elevator, a tall man came out of nowhere and collided with her. Almasi stumbled, and as she tried to regain her balance, the tray flew out of her hands. Coffee splashed everywhere, including onto her newly pressed white shirt.

This was too much. "Are you kidding me? What kind of a good for nothing, clumsy-" Almasi stopped as she looked at the man standing in front of her. With a big coffee stain on his shirt and a bemused expression on his face was a rather tired looking Jacob Adamson, the CEO of Adamson Jewelers Incorporated. Almasi's stomach dropped. This could not be happening.

To her surprise, the CEO began to laugh. The people around them who had stopped to gawp, quickly pretended not to be looking and went about their business. Almasi had no clue what to do. She smiled awkwardly at the ground. "Uh. Hi. Good morning, sir," she said.

Jacob grinned at the frightened looking young woman standing in front of him. He reached to shake her hand. "Good morning, Ms.-?"

"Quinn. Almasi Quinn," she replied, finally making eye contact.

"Ms. Quinn. I seem to have caused quite a mess here, and I apologize. I am in a bit of a rush to get to my office. I am awfully sorry about the coffee. Oh, and-" he gestured towards her chest, where the coffee stain was spreading, "-your shirt."

"Oh, um, it isn't a problem," Almasi lied.

"You are too kind. Of course it is. Here, I am in a bit of a hurry, but give me a call when you are free and I will take you out for lunch today. It was Asami Quinn, yes?"

"Almasi," she corrected him. Leave it to a white boy to never get her name right. "And it's fine, honestly. I'll just go-"

"No, no," he interrupted. "I insist." His smile seemed so genuine, and his blue eyes sparkled with what seemed like good humor. Well, if the young new CEO of the company she was interning for wanted to buy her lunch, she supposed it would be silly to refuse. He reached into his pocket and handed her his card.

"Okay. Thank you." She looked completely bewildered, and also slightly peeved.

"It is my pleasure, Almasi," he said, making a careful point to p.r.o.nounce her name correctly.

She smiled. That had done the trick.

"All right. See you then." And with that, he was off around the corner, leaving Almasi to wonder just what on earth had happened.

Jacob grinned to himself as he took the stairs two-by-two. He would have to pay Jeremy back for being late another day. Jacob had a lunch date now, and that woman, she was something else. He had noticed the way she had started to reprimand him before she saw who she was talking to. He felt vaguely sorry for ruining her shirt, but that was eclipsed by the pleasure of b.u.mping into someone new and potentially interesting. He whistled to himself as he swung his office door open.

Jeremy was typing frantically at his desk and did not look up when Jacob entered. "Good morning, Jacob," he said in an even tone that belied a bit of sarcasm. "I hope you had a good evening last night."

"I did, actually. I-"

"The blonde one, yes, I know," interrupted Jeremy. "I saw you leave together. Ever the discreet lover, aren't you?"

"Jeremy-"

Jeremy looked up at last, a little chagrined. "I apologize. That was out of line." Before Jacob could respond, he said, "Actually, your, uh, woman habits are a topic I need to address with you. You know the k.u.mi Diamonds deals?"

Jacob nodded. The owner of a large Ghanaian diamond company was going to be visiting in a month to discuss a business deal. "Yeah, why? What does that have to do with anything?"

Jeremy had gone back to typing, but even as his hands flew across the keyboard, he continued talking. "Well, I have been doing some small amount of research on the new client, and this Mr. Arko k.u.mi guy seems like a real conservative. Not into the Democrats, not into radical ideas, and not into, uh," he looked up at Jacob "licentious behavior."

Jacob laughed. "Licentious? Me? Okay, I take a woman or two to bed once in a while, just like anyone would in my position. Just like my father did when he was running the company at my age, and just like my grandfather did before him. But I would not go so far as to say I am licentious. I'm not some big womanizer." He looked at the expression on Jeremy's face. "I am not," he insisted. Then he paused. "Am I?"

"Listen, Jake-" he stopped. "Jacob. I am not here to judge what you do in your private life. I am just saying that it will go over a lot better with Mr. k.u.mi if you have settled down a bit more."

Settled down? What was he talking about?

Jeremy sighed. "You need to get married."

n.o.body made any comments when Almasi showed up five minutes late without coffee. The look on her face was enough to silence anyone who had anything to say about the stain on her shirt. They were all so tired that they didn't seem to care. Some people hadn't even shown up at all-the regular secretary, Emilia, hadn't been answering her phone, and Dave, the publicity manager, did not so much as grunt to acknowledge Almasi's presence. She sat down at her desk and opened the drawer. Thank G.o.d she had an extra shirt. She trudged over to the washroom to change. n.o.body said anything.

Looking in the mirror, Almasi smiled at her reflection. She may be a mess on the inside, but with a clean shirt on, she knew she looked better than anyone in her sleepy office. Her lipstick and eye makeup complemented her soft features, and her natural hair curled around her head like a pretty, dark halo. An angel intern, she decided. No, an office G.o.ddess. A queen among commerce students. She laughed to herself. If only.

Almasi hardly had the money to be taking this unpaid summer internship, let alone to be calling herself queen of anything. Hopefully, this would look good on her grad school scholarship applications. She had no idea what she would do without the financial a.s.sistance from her student loans. Oh, well. It was best not to think about that now. She finished primping and returned to her office. It was time for her to get some work done.

Meanwhile in his office, Jacob was staring at incredulously at his a.s.sistant. "So you are saying that I have to get a wife?"

"Yes."

"A wife wife?"

"That is what I said."

"Like, an honest to G.o.d, monogamous, 'til death do us part wife?"

"Well, here's the thing. Mr. k.u.mi will be staying with you in that dusty old mansion-which, by the way, I have ordered a cleaning crew to set it up to the standards of its glory days-and he needs to believe that you have a wife and are the traditional family type. So I mean, technically, you don't have to marry her.

You could always just keep her there for a month and then kick her out once it is all over. But Mr. k.u.mi needs to be convinced. So you, sir, are going to have to keep it in your pants for that whole time. Or, I guess, keep it in her pants."

"Okay. But one more question: Where am I going to find a woman who would be willing to follow this crazy scheme?"

"Oh, that part is easy," said Jeremy.

"It is?" Jacob was confused.

"See, you have one thing they all want."

Jacob paused, thinking. Then it occurred to him. He beamed. "My hot body and fantastic looks?"

Jeremey rolled his eyes. "Your money."

Oh. "Oh. Okay. Right. Yeah, so what would we give her?"

"Well," said Jeremy, "You have a special budget for these sorts of things."

"Wh--what t sorts of things? Wife-buying?"

Jeremy rolled his eyes again. "No. Extra expenses on business deals."

"Right, right. How much?"

"One million."

"Holy mother of-"

"You can thank your personal a.s.sistant for squirreling away your finances for you." Jeremy was smirking a little now.

Jacob laughed. "Yeah, thanks," he said. "Okay. Now, excuse me while I change my shirt. I need to look presentable if I want to get myself a wife."

It was half past noon. Almasi was playing with the curly cord on her office phone and crumpling Mr. Adamson's business card in her hand. Should she call? He told her to, and she didn't want to appear to be rude by not calling. But what did he want, asking her out to lunch? He must have some ulterior motive. He couldn't just be thinking of her. Rich people always have an angle, she reminded herself. He had seemed so nice, though. She unfolded the note. Here goes nothing.

After three rings, the phone was answered by an impatient sounding man. "This is the office of Jacob Adamson, Chief Executive Officer of Adamson Jewelry. How may I help you?"

"Hi," said Almasi timidly, "My name is Almasi Quinn? Mr. Adamson gave me his business card. He said he would like to have lunch with me today."

"Oh, he did, did he?" The voice sounded annoyed. "I am sorry, how do you know Mr. Adamson?"

"He, uh, b.u.mped into me this morning and spilled coffee on my shirt. He said he would make it up to me." She heard a mutter that sounded something like "Typical." Almasi felt embarra.s.sed. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have called. I can just-"

"Wait, no." The man on the phone suddenly sounded interested. "Mrs. Quinn, was it?"

"Ms. Quinn, actually. I'm not married."

"Hmm. Yes, good. Mr. Adamson will meet you at Tall Oaks at one o'clock, and," his voice was lowered to a hush, "make sure you have changed into a clean shirt." He hung up.

The nerve of some people. Well, it certainly wouldn't hurt to make a good impression on Mr. Adamson, no matter how grumpy and cryptic his receptionist might be. Almasi looked at the clock. It was now a quarter to one. It was time for Almasi to get going and meet her mysterious date.

Jacob sat at his reserved table, waiting. The Tall Oaks restaurant had been one of his parents' many investments, and although it had been sold off to a distant cousin now, there was still a special spot for him right by the air conditioner where the view of the window was perfect.

He looked at his watch. It was only 12:57. She still had three minutes to be on time.

"Stop being such a nervous Nellie," Jacob thought, wryly. It was Jacob's turn to roll his eyes. Why had he allowed Jeremy to talk him into interviewing this girl for the role of his-his wife? It was not that Jacob had any complaints with her. She seemed smart and feisty, and of course, she was a beautiful woman. Most importantly, she was black, which would go over well with the Ghanaian diamond deal. It still seemed odd, though, to be taking a woman out to a meal to interview her for an arranged marriage. It felt barbaric, even.

"I did some background research on Ms. Quinn," said Jeremy, interrupting Jacob's thoughts again. "You know, looking at her file and all that. The perks of being the company nerd. She is twenty-four years old, single of course, never married before, and comes from a fairly low-income family. She did her BA in Commerce on a full scholarship. Pretty impressive brain in that head, and if she truly is half as pretty as you say, she will be a fantastic match."