The Billionaire's Birthday Surprise - Jenna Brandt Page 0,1

head with a chuckle. “Don’t be so melodramatic, Samuel. You sound like we’re a part of Fight Club, or something.”

“It’s way worse than that—BBC has members everywhere, and all it takes is one call to get us kicked out. You might not mind that happening since you ended up with everything you could ever want.” Samuel gestured with his head towards Tara, the former BBC concierge who planned Wade’s experience at the club the previous year. She subsequently fell for Wade during the course of the weekend. “Attending my specially curated birthday experience is my favorite part of the year. I’m not losing that because you don’t take it seriously.”

“He does take it seriously, Samuel,” Tara defended her fiancé. “We owe our relationship to the club, after all.”

“What club?” Roger Boswell, an oil tycoon and reformed playboy, asked as he came up to the trio, with his wife, Celeste, by his side. “I’m interested in joining a new club.”

Samuel swallowed several times, trying to think of a way to avoid discussing BBC with the blond man. It wasn’t that the club forbid inviting other billionaires—word of mouth was paramount to bringing in new members—but the owner wanted it done in a tactful manner. He didn’t want the information to get into the wrong hands. Discussing it in a room full of media didn't exactly scream “discreet.”

When Samuel had invited Wade to join the club last year, it had been through the secure online invitation process. He thought back to the first time he saw the fancy black invitation with gold details and a diamond encrusted “B” flashing at the bottom of the email. It discreetly asked him to join the most elite and private one-of-a-kind club in all of the world. When he had clicked the button, it had him to a private site that had him fill out a confidential survey. He never expected to have a curated celebration waiting for him on the island, one designed to make his birthday wishes come true.

“Oh, the men are just discussing the new racquetball club in Midtown. They’re making plans to go later this week,” Tara quickly blurted out.

“You should join us,” Samuel added, knowing that Roger enjoyed the game as much as they, and hoped an invitation would distract him from what they actually had been discussing.

“You met at a racquetball club?” Roger probed, his brows coming together in a confused furrow. “I thought you met when Wade was away for his birthday last year?”

There were several moments of awkward silence before everyone’s attention was diverted when four cater-waiters brought out a massive ten-layer cake with ten candles glowing on top. The assembled guests clapped and cheered as the waiters deposited the cake in front of Samuel at the nearby table.

“Congratulations,” his literary agent shouted, coming up and patting Samuel on the back. “You did it again, Samuel. You live the most charmed life I’ve ever seen; everything you touch turns to gold without you even trying.”

Samuel bit back his knee-jerk response to defend himself, knowing that he’d worked extremely hard to cultivate his lackadaisical playboy image. His public persona played well with viewers, who drank up every moment of the handsome Irish hunk cooking and flirting with women on their TV. He acted like the producers of the show were behind it all, but Samuel had spent countless hours coming up with the concept before making it a reality. The same was true for his growing cookbook empire. He’d let everyone assume he had used a ghost writer, even though he’d actually penned every single word himself.

The rest of the evening passed with guests trickling in and out of the party at the posh restaurant owned by Roger’s good friend, Bryce Montgomery. He also dropped by for a couple of hours since he was in town for business.

As the night was winding down, Wade pulled Samuel aside a final time. “We never got to finish our discussion about BBC.”

“What’s there to discuss? I left everything in the hands of the new concierge that replaced Tara. I told her to surprise me.”

“You’re not planning to bring along a bunch of friends like you did last time?”

Samuel shook his head, causing his black hair to fall forward onto his forehead. “Nope, if my friends need to be there, I have full confidence that Simone will fly them in. Why? Are you actually planning to come this time, since you skipped my birthday last year? Or is it because you’re worried I