Rejected Billionaire

Rejected Billionaire book 1

Post-Dragon Era, Year 2000

Kingdom of Golan

Conor Brantley awoke to a freezing cold autumn breeze teasing his bare chest.

'Where the hell is the blanket?'

He opened his eyes, wincing as the eastern sun streamed through an open window. His wife, Jessica, stood at the foot of the bed, holding the comforter she had ripped off him. Her malicious grin said everything.

"Get up, you lazy turd." Jessica snarled at him, "It's time you get a real job! My father was insane to think you would amount to anything, and I must be crazy for putting up with your pathetic ass this long."

"Jess!" Conor complained, trying to block the sunlight from his eyes. "Do you have to be so cruel?"

"Do you have to be so lazy? Rent is twelve silver dragons this month, Conor. TWELVE!" Jessica fumed.

Conor sat up, frustrated, belittled, and ashamed. It was true that his current employment situation was less than optimistic

Hell, when he was honest with himself, it was shameful that at almost twenty-five years old he was relying on Jessica to pay their rent, and utilities.... and food. But he had so many good business ideas that were always just on the edge of being realized...

The comforter hit him in the face, jarring him back to reality.

"Get dressed. Lucky for you, Father found a job for you at his downtown GrizleHut. Maybe you will actually earn enough to pay for rent for once. You CAN roll pizza dough, right?" She snapped before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Conor groaned as he flopped back on the bed. Pizza was well within his capabilities. What hurt most was the blow to his ego that Jessica had lost so much faith in him she even felt the need to question his ability to do this simple job.

After four years of marriage, he had hoped their relationship would be in a better place. Before their wedding, he had seen the reluctance in Jessica's eyes.

It had been her father, Mr. Sebastian Cochan with some influence from her grandfather that had been the real driving force behind their contract marriage.

Conor also suspected she had finally relented more to avoid being forced to marry Kelan Benedict than out of any appreciation for Conor's accomplishments. Kelan had been almost predatory in his constant circling of Jessica over the years. Conor couldnt believe his luck when he had won out and had been able to marry the hottest girl in high school.

While things had been pleasant enough during their first year, Jessica had always kept her own room in their small two-bedroom apartment.

Regardless of any hostilities or reluctance, there had been some sparks in the first year as Conor's business took off and his handmade cosmetics gained fame around town. Conor had even thought it was turning into genuine love between them, if the bedroom activites in those early months had been any indication.

'Some Marriage,' he thought, thinking back on how cold things had become these last few years. Conor didnt want to blame Jessica for the downward spiral of their relationship.

After all, when her father had arranged their marriage, Conor had been a profitable entrepreneur and owned Celia's Herbals in the Cochan Family mall.

Not only that, but Conor's mother was well known as the high priestess of the temple of Celia, their dragon god, and was greatly respected across the kingdom. Now, his business had failed and caused them ridicule along the way and his mother had been lost and all but forgotten.

Conor felt a tear slide down his cheek as he remembered the last time he'd heard news about his mother. Three years ago, a gang war broke out in Jinstain, and the temple was ransacked. Rumors that wealth was heaped upon the priestesses of the temple by local businessmen, merchants, and royals seeking Celia's wisdom and blessing might have spurred such ambitious violence. After the gang cleared the treasure rooms, they burned the temple to the ground. His mother's body was never recovered. At first, Conor dreamed that she had escaped into the mountains, but over the years, that dream faded into wishful thinking...

It wasn't long after the loss of his mother that things had gone sour at his newly opened shop, Celia's Herbals. The handmade soaps and essential oils had sold well at first. But a partner in that venture had changed their supplier without him realizing it. Some of the coal and minerals had somehow been tainted, and customers were not happy, and several even got sick.

Many called him and Jessica blasphemers for selling such products under the name of Celia. The public turned on him. Over the years the Cochan mall... and their marriage, also began to suffer due to the association with that failure.

Conor pulled himself out of his melancholy and dressed for the day. He grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of cargo pants and called it good. When he stepped out into the kitchen, Jessica was finishing her breakfast, her blonde locks pulled back in a ponytail.

"Hurry up, Father expects you to be there by nine. He has already called the franchise manager to expect you. Don't embarrass me further by being late," she griped.

Jessica paused, her demeanor softening before continuing in a gentle tone, "Conor, this is your last chance. I had to convince Dad to give you this opportunity. He was not pleased and is just waiting for you to fail again. Your last few ideas for new businesses... just didn't pan out. Take this time to earn some actual money for once, and, maybe, you will find a real solid job soon."

Conor was startled by her change in demeanor, but grasped on to what he hoped was a lifeline for their marriage. He nodded and decided he would give this opportunity a real shot if it would be a new start for them.

Jessica put her cereal bowl away before grabbing a coat by the door.

"You are to meet with the manager, Pops. The old man used to own the shop before Father bought it so be nice to him. Anyway, I will be home late," She left, heading off to her job at her father's corporate office.

He was glad that she at least had successfully put her business degree to use managing payroll for her father's several companies. Perhaps he would once again be able to climb the corporate ladder.

Conor watched as she left, admiring her retreating form. The door slamming woke him from his momentary trance, and he fixed his own breakfast. He knew many men would be envious to be married to an attractive woman with curves like hers, but if they knew what home life was like, they might not be so quick to trade places.

Conor walked the streets of Jinstain toward the Grizlhut. The town felt crowded with its tall modern glass buildings, massive multistory shopping malls, and row after row of towering apartment buildings with tiny two-bedroom homes.

The wealthy still managed to have a bit of grass around their homes but for the most part, Jinstain had grown faster than the city planners could keep up with.

While it was a long walk to the city center near the port where Mr. Cochan had his GrizlHut pizza shop, it was still faster than trying to drive in this traffic.

When Conor arrived at the GrizleHut on the east end of town, he paused just outside the door to smell the salty sea breeze. Instead of a pleasant sea smell, the pungent odor of dead fish from the nearby market filled his nose. He nearly gagged and quickly rushed inside to find Pops, the manager and former owner, scrubbing tables with an old rag.

"We're closed, come back in an hour."

"Um, sir, I'm supposed to start work here..." Conor hedged. Mr. Cochan had told Pops that he was coming, right?

"Ah, the lout. Late, just as Mr. Cochan predicted," Pops declared.

Conor glanced at the clock above the register and saw it was 9:03 A.M.

"Well go on back and find Cara. She'll get you an apron and show you what to work on," Pops stuck a bony finger in his face and said, "Jessica is a good girl, who works hard. Her father was insane for asking her to marry you. I'll give you one chance here. Prove you can be worthy of her."

Pops hobbled off muttering loudly under his breath about lazy ass kids and their lack of responsibility.

Conor sighed and wandered behind the counter to find a pretty girl in her early twenties, about five and a half feet tall, struggling to set a large rack of pizza dough on the top slot of the rolling rack.

"Here, let me," Conor deftly caught the tray up and lifted it easily into place.

While he may not be overly successful in his business ventures, Conor still maintained a decent fitness. His natural height also proved an advantage in situations like this.

Maybe putting things on high shelves is all I am good for these days. Conor thought bitterly.

"Thank you," gasped Cara, catching her breath and glancing up at him as she tucked an escaped lock of honey brown hair back behind her ear.

She looked momentarily dazed as she stared into Conor's steel-blue eyes before she finally caught herself and said, "You must be the new help. Well, this way. You'll need an apron if you don't want to soil your clothes every day."

Cara led him to a small office at the back of the shop and tossed a black apron to him. "You ever make pizza before?"

"No, but I'm a quick study," Conor found it hard to take his eyes off Cara and the way her naturally wavy hair bounced lightly around her shoulders. Jessica was beautiful, but Cara's beauty wasn't hidden under layers of makeup, and he had to appreciate the natural beauty in her.

Cara frowned at him, but shrugged, "You'll sink or swim tonight. One of the Naval ships is in port, and the whole seaport will be through at some point. Now let's get started. And Conor, keep that beard of yours out of the dough. It may look good on your face but if someone finds it in the dough, that's disgusting. Not to mention it's a surefire way to get canned."

Conor couldn't help but chuckle as Cara pointed at a large can of pizza sauce for him to get down.

As they worked on prepping the kitchen for the evening rush, Conor caught Cara watching him out of the corner of his eye. She seemed intent on positioning herself around the counters in such a way that she could easily glance at him as she reached for various ingredients.

Conor smiled to himself.

It was nice to have someone look at him with anything other than loathing. He went back to his tasks but kept glancing at Cara just as much as she looked at him.

They both took a few hours off after lunch when two replacements clocked in. The other workers seemed intent to just do their job and not make new friends.

Conor waved to Cara and promised to be back by seven for his second shift.

That evening was indeed an insane rush. Over 400 rowdy sailors came through between trips to the local bars, enjoying the cheap pizza and shoveling carbs to contain the alcohol. By two A.M. Pops had long since gone home and Conor was exhausted. It had been forever since he'd worked this long and hard. OK, likely never.

Cara came over with a pizza and sat down. "Let's eat a little something and then finish cleaning up."

"I suppose it would be good to know what we serve," Conor snatched a slice and bit into it with gusto, but his face quickly changed to one of disgust as he forced himself to swallow. "If I wasn't starving I'm not sure I could finish that."

Cara laughed. "Pops swears by his old family recipe. Says the cornmeal adds some authentic character to it."

"Maybe if you enjoy bland cardboard!" he tried to finish another piece just to sate his hunger but gave up halfway through. "Well, let's get this place clean so I can find something edible. Perhaps the leftover toppings are edible."

Conor finished cleaning up, and then clocked out. He walked Cara out to her car and said good night before starting his own trudge home.

What a life this was going to be.

Seeing Cara drive away in her own car, regardless of its quality, sent another pang of guilt through his soul as he remembered all he had lost when Celia's Blessing had gone under. When he made it home, he collapsed into bed, exhausted.

Is this the kind of life I want to live? No, definitely not! Conor screamed inwardly before slipping into the oblivion of exhausted sleep.

The next day was more of the same. Conor clocked in and began his shift with Cara showing him more of the ropes. The previous night had been trial by fire, so he picked up the skills quickly and was soon tossing dough in the air as Cara worked on topping ingredients.

Conor noticed several photos hung on a wall in the back as he went for more dough.

"Cara, what are these?"

Cara glanced around the oven and then shyly darted back to her prep station, "Oh, nothing, just some photos."

"Of?"

"Places I want to go."

"Who took them?"

"Mostly my uncle, but I took the local ones. He sent me his service journey from his deployment, with all these scenery photos from around the kingdom. Different places he was stationed. If I can ever save enough to go to explore... never mind. Get back to work."

Conor tossed a dough ball into the air and let it drop next to Cara, who let out a squeak as the flour on the counter poofed into the air.

"Conor!" she half hissed, half giggled, slapping his arm. "WORK."

"So, photography?" he said as he kneaded another dough.

"Yes, photography and the adventure of exploring new places. I want to travel. See the kingdom. And, if I can take photos along the way, all the better. How cool would it be to share an adventure like that with all the people who are just stuck here... like me... doing this?"

"I think it's a worthy goal. I hope you're able to make that happen."

"And what about you, 'Mr. son of the owner'? What are your goals beyond this pizza shop?"

Conor slammed dough onto the counter and kneaded it hard as he thought. "I am not the son, just the son-in-law." He sighed, "I want to make a difference in people's lives. My mother had a way of finding a critical moment in a person's life that could change their entire future. She'd give a loaf of bread to a starving man who would return later as the town's best baker, or she'd hand a coin to a man down on his luck, only to have him return years later as an investor who made millions and wanted to return the favor. I hope to be even a fraction of the person she was."

Cara set a gentle hand on his shoulder, "She sounds amazing. The best part is, you don't have to do or be anyone special to do what she did. You just have to act. Those small acts added up to huge moments. And you likely only saw the results of the big ones. I'm sure there were millions of small miracles too."

Conor swiped at his cheek and sniffed, "See what you made me do?" He tried to laugh and return to his work.

A lady walked in at that moment and instantly began tapping the service bell. "Hello! Does anyone actually work here?"

"I've got this one," Conor said. He slid to the register to find a lady with an A-line haircut glaring at him.

"It's about time. Is everyone on break or something?" she demanded.

Conor shifted behind the register, doing his best to keep his smile in place, "I am sorry for any delay ma'am. What can I get for you today?"

"I am telling you, the service here is terribly slow. I have half a mind to call the owner." came the haughty retort.

"Again, I am sorry ma'am. I am happy to take your order now," Conor said, every muscle straining to maintain a smile. He had come over as soon as she walked up to the counter, what was her deal?

"Fine, I want a large pizza with pepperoni, sausage, and bacon. I want another with just feta and spinach."

"Excellent. We actually have a special today for two large three-topping pizzas for 30% off the second pizza. So that will be-"

"I didn't order two pizzas with three toppings, I ordered feta and spinach."

"Right but this saves you money when I key it in as"-

"If you don't want to work here, that's fine. I want to talk to your manager if you can't even ring up an order correctly."

"Fine, ma'am. Just a second." He turned and bellowed into the kitchen, "CARA!!!!"

Cara ran to the front, "What did you break now?" Conor leaned over and whispered what had happened. Cara just stared at him dumbly then lifted an eyebrow at the lady. "So you want this keyed in like so?" Cara tilted the screen toward the customer.

"Yes."

"Ok, that full price order is 35 dragons."

The lady balked at the price but paid and sat by the door to wait for her pizza.

Conor followed Cara to the back to make her pizza, "Was she serious?"

"You can't fix stupid, Conor, so don't even try. Just charge them the idiot tax and move on. They're not worth our time."

The doors entrance bell chimed and another customer came in. Conor greeted them and began ringing up their order.

"Two large pizzas, with bacon and pineapple and the other... lets get one of those feta and spinach."

Conor smiled as he explained the current discount and began to input it.

"Thats awesome! Thank you for that!" the customer said excitedly.

"Your total is 24 dragons."

"WHAT! But you charged me 35 Dragons! You cheat! I bet you just pocketed the money! I should call the owner! You know, I am good friends with him! He will see you both fired." screamed the previous customer as she jumped to her feet in a huff.

Cara came over then and pointedly said, "Yes maam, I did charge you 35 dragons, which is the price of your meal. You chose to berate me and my co-workers when we tried to apply the discount for you. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some pizzas to prepare!"

Conor suppressed a laugh as the lady stormed out the door, not even waiting for her pizzas.

As the night wore on, the crowd thinned to non-existent.

"Pops needs us to stay till close, but we're not likely to have any customers between now and then," Cara explained. "Unless a ship is in port or some other event is drawing the crowd, we should be done for the night. Let's go ahead and start cleaning up."

Conor began sweeping the front when a dirty-looking man walked in. He was clearly down on his luck with his hair not having been washed in several days, small bits of leaf matter clinging to the long locks. He had on what appeared to be several jackets, likely wearing everything he owned.

"Can I help you?"

"Sir, I will be straight with you. I don't have money. But I really need some food. Any chance there is a pizza that was made by mistake or something planned to toss that I can have a slice of? I'm willing to work or help y'all clean."

Conor glanced to Cara, who appeared to be nervous but sympathetic. "Pops isn't going to like it, Conor. I mean I have some tip money I could spare but..."

"This is a moment, Cara."

"Yes, but..." she looked at the man and finally relented. "I'll split the cost with you, Conor. Pops doesn't need to know."