Emerald Island: A Billionaire Bedroom Romance

Chapter 1

Sophie Montgomery threw the box on the floor in frustration.

The 30 vintage sweaters she had just bought were riddled with holes; moths had done irreversible damage. She should have known better. The sweaters were far too cheap. The deal was too good to be true.

And the man who sold her the sweaters? Long gone. Sophie's calls went straight to voicemail. The man was an acquaintance, so she had let her guard down and trusted him. When Sophie checked the sweaters, the ones at the top of the box were fine. It was only later, when laying out the new inventory that she realized how damaged the rest were.

She would have to write the sweaters off as a loss, and as a result, June was going to be a rough month. She wondered if she'd be able to make rent.

Sitting down on another box in her office, Sophie ran her hands through her hair and swept it into a loose knot at the nape of her neck.

"Fuck!" she said aloud, to no one in particular.

She felt her phone buzz. Kristen wanted to know if they were still on for drinks. Kristen was her best friend, had been ever since the day they met back in the ninth grade. Since starting her business, Sophie had lost contact with most of her friends. No one had the patience for her unpredictable schedule or reluctance to spend excess money on drinks, fancy meals, or spa days. Kristen was the only one who had stuck by her side through everything.

After this day, at least she had drinks to look forward to. The idea of spending money after losing so much on the sweaters made her feel sick, but she knew Kristen would be buying tonight. With a flash of embarrassment, Sophie realized she'd probably have canceled otherwise. She guessed Kristen knew that, too, which was why her friend was always so quick to throw down her credit card.

How did things end up like this?

When Sophie first started selling clothes online, it was exhilarating. The business started as an accident, really. Growing up, she had always loved fashion. But looking stylish wasn't seen as a priority in the Montgomery household. Her father, a butcher, and her mother, a stay-at-home mom, didn't have the money to spend on expensive clothes. Consequently, some of Sophie's earliest memories were of being teased by kids for her generic jeans and Goodwill shirts.

In high school, Sophie worked in a sandwich shop on weekends. She'd come home reeking of roast beef, but each day with a few more dollars saved up. Armed with her hard-earned cash, she started hunting through Los Angeles' thrift shops for unique pieces.

She developed a knack for finding remarkable things—shockingly underpriced items from high-end designers, or chic secondhand items originally purchased at boutiques in Copenhagen or Tokyo. When she and Kristen ended up at UCLA, she started getting compliments from other girls. Before long, she was known around campus for her taste.

Girls in her dorm started asking her where she got her clothes, and she shared her knowledge freely. When it came time to apply for summer internships, Kristen suggested that Sophie ditch the traditional banking and consulting circuit and instead turn her hobby into a business. Why not share her love of fashion with the world? Sophie first started with a few items here and there. She sold them to sorority sisters. Then on Etsy. And finally on her own website. With sales booming, she finally opened up her own physical store as well, a boutique in the trendy Silverlake district.

She loved the hunt. She loved the sale. She loved it all.

It was tough to juggle both schoolwork and her fledgling business. But as her father always said, "If you love it, you can make it work."

What her father didn't tell her was that sometimes you have to choose between two things you love. Halfway through her sophomore year, her father had a fatal heart attack. He left next to nothing, and her mother was forced to move into a cheap basement apartment. On top of her grief, Sophie found herself forced to choose between paying for college and helping her mother. College, she tried telling herself, would always be there, but dropping out was still heartbreaking.