Brother to the Boss: Billionaire Romance (Managing the Bosses Series Book 8) Read Free Page A

me, this is going to be just what the country club needs to really take off.”
    Mark looked down at her, eyebrows lifting. “When did you become such an optimist?” he demanded, only half teasing.
    “When I caught you,” she answered.
    Before he could say anything about it she was gone, sauntering back to the guests she’d been instructing, and Mark watched the sway of her hips with longing. The news crew would hopefully be quick about their business, because he had business of his own he wanted to take care of. As soon as possible.
    “Mr. Reid,” a young man’s voice said over his shoulder, and Mark dragged his eyes away from Erica’s backside to find one of the caddies waiting for his attention. “They want you up at the clubhouse. The news crew just pulled in.”
    “Thank you, Derrick,” Mark said, immediately starting up the slope toward the building at the top.
    This was it. Go time.
    He made it up to the clubhouse and in through a side door in time to welcome the reporter and his crew in through the main foyer. Already the cameras were rolling, and he felt a little self-conscious in their glare, but he reminded himself that Alex would know exactly what to say in a situation like this one, and that if his brother could do it, he could, too. They were going to see nothing but confidence in this interview.
    “Welcome to Little Lake Country Club,” he said, stepping forward and offering his hand to the reporter. “I’m Mark Reid, owner of the establishment.”
    “Mr. Reid,” the reporter said. “It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Jason. We’re so glad to be here at your club, and can’t wait to take a look around.”
    “Happy to hear it. And just as happy to take you on a tour, if you’re ready?”
    “Ready and willing,” Jason answered, and gave Mark the kind of smile that newscasters always seemed to have: wide and white and full of very straight teeth.
    “Fantastic,” Mark said. “If you’ll just follow me this way I can give you a tour of the clubhouse, and then we’ll head out onto the green and let you get a look at that, if that sounds good?”
    “Sounds like a plan,” the newscaster said.
    Mark led him through the foyer, and into the big room with the couches and the fireplace that would probably be more popular in winter and the fast-approaching autumn than it was now. He didn’t, of course, say that to the news people. Even so, there were a few patrons scattered across the indulgently padded leather furniture, with glasses of wine or tumblers of whiskey in their hands. Mark nodded to all of them, and they all professionally ignored the news crew, probably more than used to seeing the paparazzi hanging around.
    From there, Mark took them into the ballroom with its sleek wooden floors and crystal chandeliers. “This room, like the rest of the clubhouse, will be available to reserve for weddings or parties,” he said as they stepped inside. “And of course we’ll hold some of our own events here, particularly as the weather outdoors becomes colder. And right through here,” he continued, “is the restaurant.”
    It was as well-furnished as the rest of the place, with heavy tables of dark wood and comfortable chairs. A fully-stocked bar sat against one end of the room, just past the door they’d come in through, and on the opposite side was a patio that overlooked the golf course. He watched the camera pan, getting a full view of the room and the patrons already being seated for dinner. They were still only half full, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing when you were catering to the rich and the famous. They did like exclusivity.
    “Upstairs,” he told the news crew, “there are suites for private conferences, bridal parties, and the like, as well as my own rooms.”
    “You live here, then?” Jason asked, turning to look at him.
    “What better place to live?” Mark answered. It was something he’d already planned to say, and was pleased to have an opening for.