Beau: The Secret Billionaire Society

Prologue

“Mr. Beau Miller,” the voice said over the speakers.

Everyone had guessed wrong. The guys bet Kade was next. I cleared my throat and raised my hand as my best friend, Nash, poked me in the back and chuckled.

“We’re not in school,” he leaned forward and whispered from the seat behind me.

“Chase did, and I think you did, too, dumbass,” I hissed over my shoulder.

The man behind the mirror had called my name. We’d never met him. We didn’t know what he looked like. Yet, my friends and I agreed to put our lives in his hands and trust him. We only knew his name—Mr. Smith. He was now in charge of us, the Secret Billionaire Society, which started as a joke in college. Funny, the truth was we had made the Forbes Top100 list at one time or another in the past decade. And me? Beau Miller? I had a personal goal to make the top ten Black billionaires in the U.S. before turning thirty. I finally achieved my objective last year, and if all went according to plan, I’d remain there.

Twelve years ago, I was a fresh-faced kid ready to make a name for myself with no help from anyone. I refused the money my parents had saved for my college education and applied for scholarships. Mom and Dad would never ask for repayment, yet something inside me pushed me to succeed on my own. I didn’t want to owe anyone when I graduated, no bank, no student loan, not even my parents. They’d been saving for their sons’ educations for twenty years, so imagine their surprise when I announced I was going to Harvard on full scholarship and they should add my share to my two younger brothers’ college funds.

My youngest brother, Brandon, showed me up, receiving a college athletic scholarship to UConn and had just finished his freshman year. Blake, the brother in between, never suffered from middle-child syndrome and had been determined to put himself through business school at Boston College doing odd jobs while he attended school and working full-time in the summer. He occasionally dipped into the college fund but after graduating and working for me, returned the money to our parents.

When I walked into my Harvard dorm room freshman year, I knew I’d live with some guy from Miami Beach who liked to workout, a Nash Gill. I needed to make it work until I could find a new roomie. Someone like me, driven. No time for bullshit.

When we first met, Nash ended up calling me ‘stuffed shirt’ and I named him ‘muscles’ until one day we realized we were yin and yang, the last two pieces to the puzzle, peanut butter and jelly and became inseparable. Nash Gill was my best friend, then and now. The four other Society guys ranked up there, but if I needed someone in a bar fight or during a shoot-out at the O.K. Corral, I’d want Nash by my side.

Dead serious about my ambitions, I never joked about the future or my goals until I’d hung out with Nash. He’d tell me to lighten up, and I’d remind him when to be serious. The night of the Society’s thirtieth birthdays turned into a shining example.

On the fateful birthday night, we drank, sang and reminisced until one in the morning. All went well until someone had gotten melancholy and began to ask if this was all there was to life—partying, drinking and making money. Nash stood, beer in hand, and gave quite the speech about the qualities of those three exact things. The four other guys looked to me, I gave the approval nod, and we crumbled napkins to soak in alcohol. While he spoke, we pelted Nash with the dripping paper, and he fought back. Well, it wasn’t exactly a fight. Call it wrestling, like brothers do.

Out of breath, we finally gave up and sat on the floor, staring at each other for the longest time. “We need to do more than party,” Chase had said. “We have the means to help people. I think we should make a pact, right here sitting on this damn floor, to make a difference.”

Finn, Chase’s college roommate, was the first to respond. “Hear! Hear!” he’d said. “To Chase and the rest of us making the world a better place.”

Nash joined in and our other two friends, Gabe and Kade, held up their beer bottles. “Six,” they chanted. “From the bottom to the top.”

Lofty goals, but we’d achieved what we set out to do long ago and deserved to celebrate our victory. If we thought we could help the world, then God help the man or woman who tried to stop us.

We’d formed the Secret Billionaire Society as a joke our junior year, swearing we’d all reach our goal by our thirtieth birthdays. To our surprise it happened sooner rather than later, thanks to Chase’s investment skills and Finn’s ties to people with money and connections. Nash had agreed to be the third in their made-up club and tried to convince me to become the fourth. I insisted I could make it without help and didn’t need some lame-ass group called the Secret Billionaire Society to guide me. Nash wouldn’t stop nagging me and told me to listen to what he had to say.

“We take a pledge,” he had said. “We help each other no matter the circumstances.” It was a tight promise but something in the back of my mind told me to trust them. Thank God I did.

Kade and Gabe were the last to join the Society. They were the creative types and didn’t care about money in college. Then they came to their senses. To follow their dreams, they needed cash or investors or both and only had faith in us to help them find their way.

To some extent we were familiar faces to the public and did not want to be recognized, especially if we failed our mission to help our fellow man or woman. The idea of a middleman came to us during the last toast of the birthday evening. We’d joked it could be like Mission Impossible. In the movie, the team never saw or knew the person who gave their assignments.

Chase, the leader of the group, although he’d deny it, had turned to me, gripped my shoulder and solemnly said, “Can you find someone who fits the description and wouldn’t think we are a bunch of drunken assholes calling in the middle of the night as some kind of prank?”

Also intoxicated, my immediate answer was, “Sure!” What had I been thinking?

On any sober day the Society trusted my tech skills, and, in their eyes, I was the only inebriated one capable of doing the job. I got to work on my laptop and phone, not quite remembering how I ended up with a number to call. Right before the sun rose, we spoke with him, someone named Mr. Smith, with my cell on speaker. Looking back, we relinquished too quickly and let him take control. His biggest stipulation? He’d receive what we owned if we did not follow through with the assignments. It was to be our motivation, get our money back from him. If one failed, we all did.

We thought Smith had selfless goals when we hired him that night, spouting how much he liked our idea of doing something for the greater good. He promised to fit our assignments into our lives. Maybe he didn’t have selfless goals after demanding our assets go into a nameless trust. He could end up with all our money, but the Society agreed we wouldn’t quit the project. We’d succeed no matter the obstacles. Dare I say we were drunken assholes?

Before ending the call with Mr. Smith, he’d instructed the six of us to put together dossiers. A special courier would pick up the flash drives and deliver them to Smith. Once he had the memory sticks in hand, he’d know everything about us. We requested each of us get a separate assignment. He could set the parameters, make the rules.

After Smith received and read our bios, he sent instructions via another messenger. Mr. Smith took no chances and didn’t want us to use our cell phones, email, texts, or any technical means of communication to contact him.

After our initial call, the first message we received told us to build a soundproof room where we could meet, and that was how the bunker was born. A trusted contractor built the place on Chase’s property, a two-room soundproof dwelling. Mr. Smith could slip into a special entrance directly connected to the darkened side of the one-way mirrored room without being seen. The outer waiting area was the typical man cave with a huge TV screen mounted on one wall. Loungers, a bar with comfort food, and the latest tech gear filled the rest of the space.

We’d get our instructions in the interrogation room, as we came to call it, and a burner phone, like Chase had, whenever we needed to speak to the man. Smith had already tweaked the rules for the other guys’ missions after Chase’s protests. He fought for the rest of us to keep our real phones, besides the burner, a lesson he’d learned from the first assignment.

The pressure now rested on me. Three had completed their tasks and succeeded, and if I failed, we’d all fail. But I didn’t like to lose. I owned a building in lower Manhattan and lived in the penthouse at the top. On the floors below me, I had apartments for my five friends, my family, if and when they needed them, then rentals. My businesses occupied the ground level up to the residential floors. Each entity, under the umbrella of Miller Tech, fell into a tech category—computer support, security, network analysis, cloud engineering. I always had an eye on the future, ready to create a new business or add to the existing ones. Did I want to give it up and not complete the mission? Lose my skyscraper in New York City? Hell, no. Bring it on, Smith.

“Mr. Miller?” the voice called to me again.

Chapter One

Tess Roberts juggled the coffee holder and a bag of breakfast sandwiches in one hand while she dug in her handbag, slung over her shoulder, for her phone. “Why is she texting me? Sherri is supposed to meet me here every Monday. Kick off the work week by taking in the New York skyline,” she mimicked her sister. “Makes it real to set our goals in front of the place we strive to be.”

Almost to the park bench, Tess made a valiant effort to release the phone from its pocket inside her purse one more time. With a huff, she sat and placed the food next to her while she opened the message and read, “Running late.”

“Really?” Tess gazed across the Hudson River at the city. The morning air had warmed, and the sun peeked from behind a cloud. “She’s probably messing with her hair,” she mumbled.

Tess had let her natural dark curls grow to shoulder length, long enough to pull back when needed, but today she wore it parted to one side. Her sister had recently done the big chop, cutting off the processed straightened hair and opted for a shorter style. “I hope it’s why she’s late,” Tess said under her breath.

Liberty State Park had filled with people—tourists, joggers, and those out for a morning stroll. The place offered great views of the Manhattan skyline and ferry access to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. A two-mile promenade linked the park to a picnic area, interpretive center and terminal.

Not bad for the Jersey side. Tess leaned against the back of the bench and took her coffee from its holder. She felt a hand slide across her back and a voice said, “I am sorry I’m late. I had to talk Andre down.”

Again? Tess smiled and feigned interested. “Is he okay?”

“It’s the restaurant.”

“Which one?”

“The one he can’t get off the ground. You know, Sissy,” Sherri said sliding onto the other end of the bench. “When I met Andre, he was a chef, a fabulous one. His dream was to open a restaurant.”

“Which he did.” Tess refrained from rolling her eyes. Her sister had told Andre’s story so many times she could recite it by heart. “What’s the problem?”

“You’re aware he wants to open a second location.”

“Yes, in the Grove Street area. It’s a great place. He should do well.”

“I keep telling him the same thing.” Sherri pointed to the cup still in the container. “Mine?”

“Yes.” Tess studied her sister while she adjusted the lid on her coffee. Her long lashes fluttered, touching her high cheekbones. Their mom always said they were blessed to have beautiful eyes and good cheekbones. In the natural sunlight Sherri’s short curls appeared to have reddish highlights. “Did you do something to your hair?”

Sherri smiled, showing her straight white teeth. “Do you like it? I couldn’t cut my hair without doing something.” She angled her body toward Tess. “Andre’s restaurant meltdown wasn’t the only reason I was late.”

Tess widened her eyes. Now, it’s getting interesting. “Do tell.”

“We had the fight.”

“Monday always brings out the best in the man, doesn’t it?” Tess lifted one side of her mouth.

“Yes,” Sherri answered. “When I say I’m leaving to meet you at the park, it’s a reminder of our different goals. He wants to open an exclusive restaurant in Jersey City and The Roberts Group wants to continue to grow and, hopefully, it leads us across the river to the big time.”

“If only. Don’t you mean it’s one step forward, two steps back for the company?”

“It’s temporary, Tess. Which is why I relinquished my power for the moment and asked for help.”

“After brainstorming for hours, we’ve come to the same conclusion, Sherri, and I don’t regret it. Every time we make progress, boom! Something happens. Fresh eyes may help.”

“Let’s wait and discuss at the office. I want to enjoy the view and put our problems aside for a moment.”

“Okay, let’s play the game, ‘Which Building will become our Office?’, like we did six years ago when I joined your company.”

“I said I liked the silver and glass skyscrapers, and you’d choose the older brick buildings. We never could agree.” Sherri giggled.

“Those buildings are full of history, and besides, I felt if they’d been around for years, so would we.”

“Good point.” Sherri nodded. “Although Jersey City has changed since we first opened the office. It’s no longer the gritty city on the wrong side of the Hudson as Andre keeps reminding me. People are moving here, realizing the city is a train ride away from NYC. New housing, restaurants and businesses are popping up all the time. It’s becoming the place to be.”

“Oh, so you two fought about the move to New York City once we make it big.”

“Which might never happen.” Sherri hung her head. “But that’s not all. Andre wants to set a wedding date. With the circumstances at work, I can’t look that far ahead.”

“Sure, you can. I’ll pick up the slack. We had to let the last of the staff go but only until we figure out the problem.”

“And I wanted to start our non-profit.” Sherri shook her head. “We agreed when you joined me at the business. We’d offer free services to the elderly in the community, help them set up computers in their homes and offer identity theft services. There are so many seniors living in the office neighborhood, it’s a good fit. I hate when someone tries to take advantage of them. Where have we gotten with it?” She paused. “Nowhere.”

“We had and still have lofty goals, Sher. I’m not giving up. I’ll personally set up a website for the nonprofit and start making calls if it helps take the pressure off you. I’ll ask for donations of working computers and build an inventory. That way if a senior doesn’t own one, we’ll provide it.” Tess smiled. “I appreciate you waited for me to graduate until you started the business. I owe you. Three years was a long time to wait.”

“I used those days to research and set up the company, and we were good to go when you graduated,” Sherri answered and held up a hand. “The Roberts Group, tech support and security for business.” She moved her hand along as she said each word. “Not too many women are in the field yet and I feel like a pioneer as a business owner.”

I wished she’d consulted me on the name. But what’s done is done. “Getting the word out about STEM has done wonders for those still in school,” Tess replied. “Letting girls know it’s okay to be interested in science, tech, engineering and math should have happened long ago. We, dear sister, are ahead of the curve.”

“Yes, we are.” Sherri tipped her cup as she toasted, “To us.” She drew in a breath and looked at Tess with pleading eyes. “Will you help with the wedding? I need to get serious, pick a date, find a venue … I’m not getting any younger.”

“You’re thirty-two!” Tess made a face at her sister. “There’s plenty of time. I will assist in any way I can, but I don’t want you to feel forced into planning a wedding if you’re not ready.”

“In a way, I am ready.”

“Would it help if we picked a date? Autumn weddings are nice.”

“Oh no, too soon.”

“Spring? We could do an outdoor wedding in the summer. Do you like the idea of having it all in one place, wedding and reception?”

“Yes, in the summer so I can marry outdoors. I’d like to stay in one place if possible.”

“See? We got somewhere. Next summer you’ll have an outdoor wedding. There are lots of places you can rent for the day.”

“Thanks, Tess.” Sherri leaned over and took her hand. “You always smooth the wrinkles, as Mama says.”

Their mother would say she had one practical daughter and one with her head in the clouds, yet both were bright and determined. Together they could conquer any task because of those different qualities.

“I’ll call some venues and see what dates are available … if you want,” Tess said.

“Thanks, I’d appreciate it, but I’ll try not to take advantage of my maid of honor.” Sherri looked at her sister from the corner of her eye.

“Maid of honor?” Tess’ fingers fluttered to her neck. “I thought you’d ask Jordyn. She’s your best friend.”

“She’ll be in the wedding, but I can think of only one person I want by my side. You.”

Tears welled in Tess’ eyes. “I accept. Is Andre asking his brother to be best man?”

In the past, Sherri and Andre had tried to fix Tess up with his younger brother, Anthony. She’d met him for drinks once and felt no connection, no spark. He pursued her for months afterwards, finally getting the hint when she started dating her ex.

“Hey, where’d you go?” Sherri touched Tess’ arm.

“I was thinking.”

“I said Andre asked Anthony to stand up for him, and he said yes. But don’t worry, he knows you’re not interested and should behave himself at the wedding.” Sherri smiled, then her expression changed. “You were thinking about Corey, weren’t you?”

“No … maybe.” Tess lifted a shoulder. “Sometimes I miss him, but in my head, I know I’m better off without him.”

“He was too controlling, baby sis. Don’t you remember how miserable you were before you broke up with him?”

“Keep reminding me. It’s been a month since I’ve last seen him, and four since we parted ways. I think I’m okay.”

“Look,” Sherri squeezed Tess’ hand. “At one time you’d thought you’d marry the guy. He was attentive and idolized you but also needed an itinerary of your whereabouts every minute of the day. It wasn’t a healthy relationship. Remember when we met girlfriends at restaurants, he’d show up and sit at the bar?”

“He said he wanted to make sure I got home safe, or if I had too much to drink, he’d take me home. I thought it was sweet.” Tess lifted her hand. “Before you say anything, yes, it got to a point where it felt suffocating and I thought it was a little…”

“Creepy?” Sherri lifted her brow.

“I don’t want to call a guy I dated creepy!” Tess said with a laugh. “I’ll stick with controlling.”

“Whatever.”

“And what about Andre?” Tess turned the tables. “You don’t think he’s controlling? He tries to stop you from meeting me here on Mondays to plan the big move and telling you Jersey City is the place to be. Well?” she asked, staring at her sister.

“It’s not the same. We love Andre.”

“True, we love him.”

“He wants what’s best for us, Tess.”

“Speaking of Andre, here he comes,” Tess said under her breath.

“What?” Sherri swiveled in her seat. “Andre, are you stalking us?”

“Never,” he said with a kiss to her cheek and scooted in next to her. “Hey, Tess, how are you doing?”

“Fine and yourself?”

“Great. Now what’s this I hear about a stalker because it’s obviously not me. Don’t tell me Corey’s coming around or showing up in unexpected places again. Do I need to speak to him?”

“No, baby.” Sherri patted his leg. “Tess and I were discussing old times. I was teasing you.”

“Good.” Andre bobbed his head once. “But, let me know if you ever need me, Tess. Corey’s number is still in my phone. I’ll call him and tell him to back off.”

Tess looked at her future-brother-in-law and smiled, studying his features which were quite serious now. He had a fresh haircut, a high fade on the sides traveling up to longer dark curls on top. His beard and mustache, trimmed closed to his face, were near perfection. Tess always thought for a chef he had a football player’s body, stocky yet well-muscled, but he’d never played the game.

“Sherri,” Andre said and put his arm around her. “I came to apologize.” He leaned across her. “You, too, Tess. I’m sorry. I get frustrated. A deal I made for the second restaurant has fallen through. I got the call right before Sherri left the apartment. Forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Andre. We have high-pressure jobs. We’ll blame them.” Tess answered.

“If you’ll allow me, I’d like to escort you two beautiful women to work.”

“Thank you, kind sir.” Sherri playfully batted her lashes at him, making them laugh.

They rose from the bench, and Andre stood a few inches above the sisters.

Sherri glanced at Tess. “Not too high of a heel for the wedding. I don’t want to tower over my soon-to-be husband.”

“Hey!” Andre looked insulted and leaned back. “I’m six feet, woman.”

“And I’m five foot seven.” Sherri patted his face. “I’m planning ahead.”

Andre smiled and pointed at her. “You said wedding, right?”

“Yes, I did.”

Andre slid his arms around Sherri and swung her in the air. “Finally! You picked a date?”

“Yes, well, sort of, I’ll tell you more later. We should have left for work already. Someone from Miller Tech is coming to the office tomorrow and we need to get organized.”

“I’m sure he’ll find you’re quite organized, babe,” Andre stated, giving Sherri a kiss on the cheek.

“I hope you’re right.” Sherri glanced at Tess. “We hired one of the best to help us on Gram’s recommendation.”

“Whoa!” Andre held up his hands. “Are you sure about this? What does your gram know about recent business practices? She retired long ago.”

“Gram has kept up with the times.” Tess defended her grandmother. “Yes, she’s retired, but she was a great businesswoman.”

“Which she passed down to her granddaughters,” Sherri replied and nudged Andre in the ribs.

“She inspired us, but remember Gram gave up a lot, too,” Tess continued. “She said times were different then and she didn’t want the same for us. Follow your dreams, she always told us when we were young.”

Andre took Sherri’s hand as they walked to their cars. “Did you ever tell me her story, babe? I remember you said she quit a job in California to come to New York when your dad died, nothing else.”

“I guess I never told you her whole story, Andre.” Sherri squinted as if to think. “Grams gave up a prestigious career but said family came first.”

Tess nodded. “We might have grown up as California girls if Mom hadn’t met Dad in college. They lived at opposite ends of the country and tried the long-distance relationship after graduation. Mom moved to New York, never expecting Gram to follow years later. We were what?” She looked at Sherri. “Eleven and eight when Daddy passed? I remember Mama could barely drag herself out of bed in the morning and cried throughout the day. One morning we got up and there was Gram in the kitchen, humming and making breakfast.”

“Yeah,” Sherri said. “She restored our routine and loved us to death. We were lucky.”

“Which brings us back to our business.” Tess shook her head. “We can’t let her down, Sher. She went out of her way to contact someone from one of the biggest tech firms to help us.”

“I still can’t believe a tech company has to hire another one to help them. It took Gram a while to convince me it was the right thing to do.” Sherri lifted a shoulder. “What can I say? I agreed because I was desperate.”

Chapter Two

Beau found a parking spot on the street a few doors away from his destination. His heart raced at the thought of starting his mission, one which had few details. He’d left Chase’s house in North Carolina before sunrise to make this Tuesday morning meeting on time. “I understand now, guys. Mr. Smith is not forthcoming,” he murmured as he shifted into park.

Smith had sent a decent car to the airport, a two-year-old Cadillac XTS, since Beau’s cover still had him working for Miller Tech. Appearances were everything, and he had a part to play.

His eyes darted to the review mirror. My name is … Beau Williams. Remember, when you introduce yourself.

Beau studied the surrounding area and made a quick assessment. The neighborhood, comprised of old three-story brick buildings on either side of the road, were commercial and business on the ground floor with apartments on the upper two. From what he’d read, Central Avenue fell into a special improvement district much like a chamber of commerce. They wanted people to succeed and were there to help. The Roberts women had chosen well.

“Here goes nothing.” Beau inhaled, wet his lips and hopped from the car. He walked past two businesses before reaching the one he wanted. They’d etched the Roberts Group in gold on the front frosted glass window which made it difficult to see inside the office. Smart move. Attractive yet safe.

A mounted plaque on the outside brick had the latest technology with every tenant’s name and a personal doorbell. People could view, answer and even unlock the entrance from a safe distance. Beau wondered if the Roberts Group wired the building free of charge and offered the service to the people. Great marketing. Beau nodded. He was curious to see what other measures they used once he got in the door.

Nerves took over as he rang the bell. Damn! I own a company and probably know more than these two sisters put together. The thought didn’t make it better, and he gave his arms a shake, rolled his neck, then straightened his tie.

“Yes?” A voice came over the intercom.

“Hello, I’m from Miller Tech and have an appointment with the Roberts sisters. My name is…”

“Oh! We have been expecting you. Come in.”

Beau heard the lock release and opened the front door. Due to the dark brown brick walls, Beau found himself in a darkened foyer with a single light overhead. A few small windows along the stairs to the other floors let in some natural light. A customized royal blue door with the same frosted glass window and engraving was to his right. He tried the handle, and it easily opened. Beau stepped into a small space, partitioned off from the actual office.

More brick ran along the office’s outside walls and two see-through plexiglass ones separated Beau from the main room. Three chairs, a small table and wall art turned the enclosed space into a waiting area. He peered through the clear wall into an average-sized office, probably used for a secretary or receptionist but no one sat at the desk. Someone would have to let him in so as he waited, his instincts took over and he evaluated the room. A copy machine sat against the opposite brick wall, and he noted a security camera in a corner.

“I am sorry to keep you waiting,” a tall, slender African American woman with short curly hair came into view. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh. My. God. I can’t believe it! Tess, get in here.”

Beau looked over his shoulder thinking a giant spider had crawled up the wall. He felt like a trapped rat unable to move in the tiny vestibule. Did I do something wrong? This mission is not going as expected.

“Tess!” the woman called again. “Gram did more than call Miller Tech, she got the CEO. The Boss. The Man to come and help us.”

What? No! She thinks I’m me, Beau Miller. He scrambled for a plan. Smith’s name change wouldn’t fly. This woman was well-informed and would probably spot any lie he told. He’d been in a similar position before with his best friend, Nash, and heard his voice in his head. Keep calm. Steady your nerves. Don’t act too quickly. Once you start talking, you gotta stick with the story you tell. He held up his hands. “If you’d let me in, I can explain.”

“Sherri, what are you yelling about? They can hear you two floors up,” a woman said as she walked out of the back office.

Beau’s breath hitched. A vision stood before him, and he fought for composure. If he was anywhere else, he’d ask her for coffee. During coffee, Beau would suggest dinner and a movie. Anything to keep her close. He could fall hard and fast for this woman. Her mocha eyes landed on him and he prayed he didn’t look like a smitten puppy dog. Natural hair. I like it. Not like my ex, Bethany, who’d spend hours in a salon.

“Sherri! Let the man in.” Tess placed her hands on her hips. “And give him a minute to catch his breath.”

“Tess, it’s him.” Sherri said from the corner of her mouth, reminding Beau of a bad ventriloquist. She tapped on her phone and the clear door, embedded in the wall, unlocked.

“Hi,” Tess said and extended her hand as Beau walked through the opening. “I’m Tess Roberts.” She cocked her head toward Sherri. “Please excuse my sister, the CEO of this company and majority owner. She’s usually not like this.”

“Nice to meet you, Tess.” Beau took her hand, feeling the silky softness and inhaled the scent of spring. He made a note to discover what fragrance she wore and buy her a year’s supply. Tess, an inch or two shorter than her sister and not as model thin, appeared to hold on to his hand longer than normal. Beau hoped it was a good sign. He thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Snap out of it. You’re acting like you never saw a woman before. And you’ve seen plenty. Where are your manners?

“Nice to meet you, Sherri.” He quickly turned to her sister. “If I may correct you, I am not Beau Miller. I am Blake Miller, his younger brother.”

“I’ve seen pictures of Beau Miller. Are you sure?” Sherri cooed, taking his extended hand and shook with a firm grip.

“It says Blake Miller on my birth certificate, so I’m sure,” Beau lied, trying to smile and make light conversation. He pictured his middle brother, Blake, the shortest of the three brothers, standing a hair below six feet. Beau tapped in at six three. The two had similarities and everyone could tell they were brothers, but it ended there. Better make sure they never meet the real Blake Miller till this is over.

“Don’t tell him, but you’ve got him beat in the good looks department.” Sherri winked.

Tess shot a “if looks could kill” expression at her sister and cleared her throat. “Mr. Miller,” she said as she turned to him.

“Please call me Blake.” Beau made eye contact again and felt his heart speed up again.

“Blake, thank you for coming,” Tess replied. “We’ve been having security issues and since it’s one of the services we offer, we are a little embarrassed asking for help.”