The Color Of Love: A BWWM Billionaire Alpha Male Romance Read online

  The Color Of Love

  A BWWM Billionaire Alpha Male Romance

  A complete story, brought to you by popular author Alia Thomas.

  Dawson Ledger is an aggressive businessman busy living in the lap of luxury.

  Tall, blonde and a flirtatious playboy, he routinely breaks the hearts of beautiful women most men would pay to have.

  That is until Victoria came along.

  The owner of a small food artistry and catering business, the two soon hit it off despite their vastly different backgrounds.

  But with social prejudice and even racism directed at this new interracial couple, will their relationship crumble under the pressures of outside influence?

  Or will they be able to prove that love really does conquer all?

  Find out in this Saucy new romance book by Alia Thomas of BWWM Club.

  Strictly suitable for over 18s only due to interracial sex scenes between a billionaire alpha male, and a curvy African American beauty.

  Tip: Search BWWM Club on Amazon to see more of our great books.

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  Copyright © 2015 to Alia Thomas and SaucyRomanceBooks.com. No part of this book can be copied or distributed without written permission from the above copyright holders.

  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

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  Chapter 1

  Sitting in the emergency room on a busy Thursday night was not Victoria’s intention, but it was kind of necessary. The accident happened because she was fatigued and exhausted. Exams were on, and because the safety of teenage life was about to expire, she had no choice but to work harder to boost her savings.

  The tuition to Le Cordon Blu was a hefty sum and the extra hours at Sammy’s put her a step closer to the necessary digits. World history was her enemy and she studied it all day yesterday before pulling an all night shift at the little greasy spoon called Sammy’s. All these factors combined led to the careless mistake of slicing off the edge of her thumb.

  Her eyes had begun to close as the sharp blade diced the tomatoes and before long her blood was mixed with the pieces on the chopping board. Because Victoria passed out they called the paramedics and when she came to she thought they had made too much of the matter. The doctor in the emergency room, apparently agreed with them and was taking great care in fixing her finger.

  It scraped the bone he said, and Victoria was lucky. She would now have a thumb slightly shorter than the other when it healed. The sun had risen when the young woman finally departed the hospital, leaving the maimed and injured to wait for the doctors now tired from their all night life saving ventures.

  *****

  Victoria had tried without success to follow her family’s plans for her life. Yes, she understood the stability that an office job brought, but it just seemed boring and routine to her. Despite a rough and tumble beginning, she was always thought to be the academic in the family, and Victoria agreed. With an understanding of numbers like no one else, her family hoped for her to get a scholarship and attend college where she would study accounting.

  What a surprise when her mother received the acceptance call from Cordon Blu Culinary Institute announcing that her daughter, Victoria Jones had been accepted into their prestigious school.

  Having slaved in a kitchen herself for years, Marjorie Jones was not pleased that she had passed on her love of food and creativity to her only child. Yes, it was satisfying to see people enjoy your food, but the hours away from your family, and the sometimes inadequate pay were not worth it. Accounting was a better job in a nice air conditioned office with a decent salary at the end of the month.

  Marjorie often felt guilty that her sixteen year old daughter Victoria worked in hot kitchens in most of her free time, just to make ends meet. She was a single mother and poor. The extra income was necessary. Victoria’s father had died from a gunshot wound to the heart just before her eleventh birthday. An innocent bystander waiting for the bus to his factory job, unfairly taken from his family by the stray bullet of a thug who would never be named or brought to justice.

  Having worked for the same company for all his life, Johan Jones, Victoria’s father never missed a day of work until the day he passed. Supposedly covered by company insurance, his death became a matter of contention as the company decided the way he passed was not covered by his policy. The matter dragged on for years and caused his financially strapped wife and child much distress. This was why Victoria had part time jobs in kitchens.

  Unfortunately, just like Marjorie, her daughter Victoria was stubborn and could not be convinced that the humdrum of office life was for her. Then there was the issue of just how this course of study would be paid for. Victoria filled out the necessary forms and registered online for several activities, but there was no money to concrete her enrollment at the school. She prayed for a miracle daily while her mother lamented on the lost opportunity to apply for a scholarship in a different field - any field except food.

  When the agent knocked on their weathered apartment door on a gloomy Monday evening, Marjorie was more than surprised. In an unusual display of remorse, the insurance company representing Mr. Jones’s employer came by to personally apologize for the length of time it had taken to settle the matter. After depositing a plain white envelope in her hand and asking that she call if there was anything else she cared to discuss, the man in the dark suit and turtle shell framed glasses disappeared down the stairs of the government owned apartment building.

  It took a minute to balance the gravity of this life changing cash injection in Marjorie’s head, but eventually she opened the adhesive paper lip keeping her from seeing her new financial future. The zeros after the number one were more than she had ever seen assigned to her name. Mouth agape, she sat down on the faded couch to read every detail of the letter accompanying the check. Maybe someone was playing a cruel joke on them.

  As it turns out, everything was legit and the next day, the paper ran a review of the insurance industry and the length of time it took to settle claims. Below the article was a list of companies that had recently settled old claims. Johan’s employer’s insurance company was among them. Marjorie was reading it as Victoria entered from the night shift on her second job at The Island West Indian cook shop. Time was ticking and she was working hard and saving as much money as possible. She needed to pay the good folks at Cordon Blu.

  Her mother looked up from the table with her six am face full of tears. Hurriedly Victory dropped her purse and bounded to her mother’s aid.

  “What’s the matter mom? Did someone die? Tell me what’s wrong!” She pressured. Her mother turned to her and with a mixture of sadness and joy before saying, “It looks like you are off the culinary school.”

  *****

  Graduating at the top of the class, Victoria thou
ght she had arrived at the pinnacle of her life but this was the calm before the storm. At five feet four, she had become accustomed to making her bite just as vicious as her bark and despite all odds, she decided to open her own business. Reluctantly, her mother used a large portion of the remaining settlement money to help her ambitious daughter open ‘Palette’, a small catering company whose tagline was, ‘food is our art and your taste buds are our canvas,’ a motto she held true to.

  As a black woman in a city like Florida, it was sometimes challenging to be recognized as a competent business owner and chef. Added to that, her mix of flavors and techniques were sometimes criticized as being too colorful and dramatic. Secretly, Victoria considered this a compliment.

  Moving to Florida from New York was necessary to spread Victoria’s culinary wings. The mix of peoples from the nearby Caribbean islands gave her inspiration to create works of art out of simple food. It was hard to leave her mother, but she believed in the very near future, that she would be able to add to the small nest egg left after her studies and business venture were paid for. Failure was not an option.

  What was life without color and drama anyway? Because she felt it an injustice to live under the rules of other people, Victoria pushed the boundaries at all times and her dress and appearance was no exception. For a long time she wore thick braids and skinny jeans with bright, loud printed blouses and equally loud wedges. Her handbags were always something of a spectacle and daily women gave her approving nods or simply stared and smiled at her individual style.

  Unlike her mother who she sometimes teased for her yellow skin, Victoria was a chocolate tone, and often joked that she was just as sweet. Chocolate had indeed been her weakness and it showed in her plump figure. Her famous quote was ‘thick is the new sexy’ and Victoria was just that. With breasts that came in before the other girls in her high school class, and a figure that made most people look twice, she should have been snatched up long ago.

  Somehow that was not the case and at twenty eight, she found herself free, single and disengaged to anyone or anything - she pretended to be married to her business. Today, however, was an off day - she was going to the spa with Abby, her best buddy and partner in crime. They met at culinary school and the odd girl was immediately befriended. She was straightforward, but often reduced to giggles at the slightest hint of humor. The two counterbalanced each other and it was often needed when Victoria’s anal retentiveness kicked in. Order, structure and precision were the rules Victoria lived by and it took a silly friend to mellow that out. Sometimes chaos was needed.

  The day was sunny and hot, stinging Victoria’s skin as she stood outside Happy Daze Ice cream shop waiting on a notoriously late Abby. Her frozen yogurt was half gone by the time her freckled faced friend arrived looking like she was right on time. She stopped apologizing for being late years ago - it just wasn’t her thing to be early.

  Abby was a mixture of Irish and African-American. Her skin was pale and freckled and her red lips were full. The race combination gave her a very distinct look, and her naturally red afro was something people stared at in curiosity. Much taller and thinner than Victoria, Abby considered modeling and was still approached to this very day by agencies. Like Victoria though, food was her love and she stuck with her passion.

  Victoria had a surprise. And the way her speechless friend was staring at her, she wasn’t sure if it had been well received. Lately Victoria was feeling bored. At first she considered a tattoo and even a piercing, but eventually she settled on the big chop. The hairstylist all but carried out a counseling session after Victoria announced she wanted the hair all gone. Half an hour later it was Victoria who took the scissors from the hesitant stylist and chopped the first fat braid in half.

  One hour later she was sporting a low cropped haircut, much like Amber Rose. The platinum blonde color was the stylist idea and Victoria was amazed at her transformation. The haircut made her look almost innocent, and the small side part made her feel quite smart. She was very pleased with the outcome.

  Abby was recovering from her pile of customary giggles, while a straight faced Victoria waited patiently for a verdict.

  “Wow Vic, you look… awesome… what the hell will your mom say? She loved your hair… She may disown you!”

  More laughter bubbled from Abby and Victoria could no longer keep her own laughter quiet. Leaning against the cool glass of the ice cream shop door for support as humor overtook them, they decided to set off and she decided not to tell her mother anything about the hair until it was necessary.

  The spa appointment was at ten am and it was now nine forty five. Chatting as they walked the short distance, the two friends linked hands, and laughed like school girls as people stared at the new blond and the tall redhead. Yes, they were inseparable.

  *****

  The caterer’s were slacking again and Dawson had lost his patience. This was the third glass that had failed inspection and this type of incompetence wouldn’t do. Some would say he was obsessive, but in Dawson Ledger’s mind, he could afford to be that way. Dried droplets of water staining sparkling glass was something he had asked them to address before and apparently, they didn’t care enough to take heed. That was ok- there were other companies who could use the business since they obviously didn’t want to keep the contract.

  It was probably unusual for the man at the top of the food chain to check cutlery, but tonight’s meeting was crucial, and the guests were even more critical than he was- not that he cared. Yes, he wanted their money, but if they refused to invest, he would find other alternatives. Nothing could get in the way of his success.

  Some said he was overzealous and others considered him enthusiastic, either way he deserved the many zeros on his bank account. Inheritance didn’t mean entitlement though, and Dawson tried to be the fair man his dad taught him to be. At the tender age of twenty seven, he inherited the string of luxury hotels his dying father could no longer manage, and the financial pundits on Wall Street predicted the company would crash and burn in months. Never one to satisfy anyone’s expectations, but his own, Dawson turned the million dollar empire into a mega billion dollar bargaining chip and those ready to wager were knocking at the door.

  Selective and wise in all his business dealings, he opened up to only a few and before his dad died, Dawson hit money - bigger money than his dad had managed to accumulate.

  Debut Movie Cinemas were almost a landmark in Florida. It sat on prime real estate, but the owners had not caught up to the information age and as the years went by and more modern, sleeker cinemas opened their doors, fewer and fewer patrons came to DMC. The company teetered on the brink of bankruptcy. A good thing Ledger and Son came along.

  There was no negotiation - Dawson’s lawyers offered a sum and the lawyers representing the cinema took it. It would turn out to be one of the most financially savvy decisions he ever made.

  Interior demolition experts arrived as soon as the ink was dry and before long, the collection of five cinemas was gutted, cleaned, remodeled, upgraded and brought into this century. In exactly twenty four months, the stock for DMC had quadrupled its initial twelve dollar share value and there were people willing to buy as many as possible if they became available.

  Today he was going to encourage his intelligent investors to see his vision of the future. He wanted to dedicate one of the cinemas to live entertainment and theater. His vision was to do Florida’s version of Broadway and to his mind it would be epic. This was the reason for his nit picking today - these people needed to be happy.

  Glancing at his simple looking watch, purchased with enough money to feed a small village, he barked orders at his personal assistant, Sara. She in turn bellowed at the staff to get clean stemware and cutlery at each of the place settings before she stalked off to call the manager. This would be their last dinner service for the Ledger group of companies.

  At exactly ten am the meeting was called to order and by eleven all of the faces were smiling at the new mo
ney making proposal. Brilliant - the lawyers would draw up the paperwork and by month end the first production of DMC would be underway. No surprise, Dawson always got what he wanted - always.

  A tabloid had reported last week that he was newly eligible after Naomi Donahue, award winning actress, seemed to be no longer in his life. They had the scant details, but were mostly accurate in the account of their separation. One point they certainly did get right, was the fact that he was easily bored. Touted as a playboy lover with a wandering eye and playful nature, Dawson was loved by the camera and he loved it in return.

  Often caught in intimate positions with the most desired and gorgeous women of the world, he let the media follow his movements. History needed to record the rise of his fresh new empire. No need to deprive the public of his legend. They always found out anyway, so why not allow them?

  Naomi had been stunning but simple, and after a few months her empty conversation and juvenile behavior no longer stimulated him. He was on the prowl for something new.

  Dawson’s green eyes were a family trait and he stared into them as he backed his midnight blue Bugatti out of the private parking lot. He preferred to drive himself recently, and while still on the payroll, the chauffeur was enjoying time off and in celebration of his successful meeting, he was going to reward himself.

  Melissa, the young woman no one knew he was screwing, extended an open invitation to her penthouse suite. This was the finest opportunity to take advantage of it. Breathtakingly beautiful, Melissa was the daughter of fellow business magnate and sometimes competition, Cyrus Vaughn. Dawson deemed it fitting to pick the girl’s forbidden fruit in a time like this, a time when he was rising higher and doing even better than his family fortune. He like playing with fire and she, Melissa, was the ultimate flame.

  As he pulled to a stop under the canopy of East view Estate - one of his hotels - the valet hopped into action, surprised that the boss was there and excited to park the priceless Bugatti. The word spread in moments and the concierge appeared ready to take any command. The penthouse suite was the boss’s destination and as the elevator doors closed, Dawson nodded at his reflection on the mirrored walls.