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The Unmasked CEO (Captured by Love #7)

By´╝ÜMiranda P. Charles

cared when they'd upped and left to find someone else willing to fund the extravagant lifestyles they wanted.

Seriously, if he was to keep a girl around, then he'd want someone like his close female friends: caring, smart, independent women who loved their men for who they were, not for the dollars in their bank accounts.

But how could he meet someone like these ladies when their kind was keen to avoid a known playboy like him?

He'd been so seduced by his fast and fun life that he hadn't been willing to give up his freedom for anyone or anything. Now, karma seemed to have bitten him on the ass and was making him pay for his own emotional immaturity by making him attract only the players and the gold-diggers. His reputation had cloaked him like a bad smell. When the three nice, relationship-material ladies he'd recently asked out had turned him down, each had said something along the lines of "I'm not that kind of girl."




What a huge blow to the ego and a big wakeup call! Who'd want to be constantly shunned by nice girls and used by gold-digging players? So, yeah, it was time to distance himself from his playboy image. Thirty-two was old enough for that.

Julian made a gurgling sound and Simon made another funny face, bouncing the baby in his arms. To his delight, Julian laughed.

"Aww, look at that," Rick said, walking back to the party with Carter, both of them clearly smitten by the precious bundles each was carrying in their arms.

Simon smiled. Fatherhood suited the guys. "So," he said to no one in particular, "what do you think of my planned experiment to go incognito so I can woo a nice girl without my playboy reputation and financial status tainting how she sees me?"

"Do you already have a girl in mind?" asked Brad, who'd been a busy bee making sure that his wife didn't lift a finger at her own birthday party.

"No. That's why I want to stay outside of Sydney for a while, where I'm not well known. If I meet someone who has no idea who I am, I can start with a clean slate. And since I seem to be a magnet for gold-diggers these days, I don't want to be seen as being rich at any level. So my first option is to pretend I'm just an employee pilot working for Alexander Jets. I can service the regional areas where women wouldn't know me from Adam."

"Pilots earn above-average salaries, and Alexander Jets is known to be the top private jet service in Australia," Natasha pointed out. "That can still be attractive to those wanting a boyfriend only for his money."

"Hm, true."

"Why don't you just pick a country town and look for a casual job there as a farmhand?" Tristan quipped. "You're a smart guy. You can learn how to milk a cow quick smart."

Simon snickered just as his phone buzzed with a work call. He pulled it out from his pocket and Julian started whimpering again, looking at his daddy with a sad, irresistible look.

"Had enough of Uncle Simon, bubba?" Lucas cooed at his son.

Simon gave Julian to Lucas and answered one of his account managers, who also happened to be his cousin. "Hey, Elle, what's up?"

"Sorry to bother you when you're at a party, Simon, but I have a problem. Remember Ingrid Lawrence?"

"Yes."

"Geri Blaine, Mrs. Lawrence's assistant, called to say that they need to fly from Brisbane to Sydney this Friday instead of next week. Apparently, Mrs. Lawrence's grandson, who's based in Boston, will be in Sydney from Friday for four days only to attend a weekend conference. They want to see each other, hence Mrs. Lawrence wanting to get to Sydney a week early. Problem is, all our planes are fully booked on Friday and Mrs. Lawrence won't fly commercial because of her dog. She wants a private jet where her dog is allowed to roam free in the passenger cabin with her. So before I suggest one of our competitors to them, I thought I'd call you first to see if there's something we can do."

Simon pursed his lips. Seventy-two-year-old Ingrid Lawrence was his newest client. Having recently sold her company that made wildly popular cooking sauces and condiments to an international conglomerate for several million dollars, Mrs. Lawrence had decided to live it up. She was now enjoying the fruits of a lifetime of hard work, doing a luxury around-Australia tour that she hadn't had the chance to indulge in during her working years.

"Who are our clients flying from Brisbane to Sydney around the time that Mrs. Lawrence wants to be rescheduled?" he asked.

"Well, Tristan Grant is one of them. I'm assuming he's there with you, and I thought you could talk to him?"

"Ah, good! Leave it with me. Tristan has been thinking of extending his stay in Brisbane to catch up with more people." He winked at Tristan, who raised an eyebrow at him.

"Great," Elle said. "One other thing. They need to hire another short-term chauffeur because their current one suddenly resigned due to a family emergency. Geri's having a hard time finding a replacement at the last minute, especially since it's a live-in job. Apart from driving them around, Mrs. Lawrence wants an able-bodied man who can also act as a bodyguard because she feels safer staying in rented houses that way. Because of the dog, they always stay in houses rather than hotels. Anyway, I've asked around, but I'm not having any luck either. I thought that with your vast network, you might know someone who could refer a suitable person for the job?"

"No one immediately comes to mind. How long do they need the chauffeur for?"

"Two months, ideally. They'll be here in New South Wales for a month, then Victoria next month. But they'll accept someone who can only do the New South Wales leg, if that will make it easier to get a chauffeur at short notice. Geri did stress that the guy has to have at least three impeccable references, considering he'll be staying with the two ladies for the duration."

"Okay, I'll ask around. I'll call you back shortly."

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