Page 1 of Dashing Mr. Snow


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Prologue

ALEX-TWO YEARS EARLIER…

Iadjust my tie in the reflection from the elevator doors as I ride it down to the conference room for the new-hire orientation.

I’ve been the CEO and owner of Snow Communications, a billion-dollar empire my grandfather started decades ago, for just over five years now. I hadn’t planned to take ownership of the company at the age of twenty-eight, let alone become the youngest billionaire CEO in the country; but after my father passed unexpectedly, I stepped up.

I love my job, and to complain about my privileged life would be pointless and terrible, considering there are people who struggle to put food on the table. But being rich, powerful, and young has left me more isolated and lonelier than I ever thought possible. When I was in my early twenties, all I cared about were the summers yachting through the Mediterranean with models and friends who were only there for the money and parties. I thought I’d have the time to settle down eventually, find a wife and start a family together; but when my dad—who was my only living relative—passed away, it forced me to grow up and put the rest of my life on hold while I took over the family business.

Now, gone are all the friends who were ready to go on extravagant vacations at the drop of a hat. Once the parties stopped and I started focusing on my job and wanting to settle down, they disappeared.

“Morning, Cheryl.” I tip my head toward my HR manager who is standing outside the conference room with a huge smile on her round face. Her bright red lipstick matches her shoes, which also coordinates with her polka dot dress.

“Good morning, Mr. Snow. Are you excited? I love new-hire day!” she says with genuine enthusiasm. Cheryl, like many others here, have worked for this company since I was just a teenager. My dad might have been a cold and oftentimes cruel man toward me and my mother who passed many years ago; but to his employees, he was kind, gracious, and always generous.

Building this company and cultivating his legacy were my father’s dreams, a family was merely an obligation. A box he had to check in order to maintain appearances, but something he never really wanted—a fact he made little effort to hide. Something I promised I’d never do with my own family, should I be lucky to have one of my own someday.

“I am very excited.” I smile as I follow her into the large conference room where several rows of new employees are sitting, looking eager, fresh-faced and clearly ready to climb the corporate ladder.

Most of these young people are sales associates, with perhaps a few marketing people and a new finance member or two sprinkled among them. I scan the room quickly, giving a few nods and tight-lipped smiles to the group as I take a seat in the corner, allowing Cheryl to kick off the meeting.

New-hire orientation is a tradition my dad started, one I’ve chosen to continue. While I don’t have the extroverted personality my father often displayed here at Snow, I do like my employees to feel welcome and well taken care of. I tend to prefer a life behind the scenes, one where I’m not the center of attention. I learned the hard way early on that being rich, good-looking, driving a fast car, and dating models would only result in having your life plastered across the headlines, whether the tabloids are printing the truth or not.

“And now, a few words and a warm welcome from our fearless leader and CEO, Alex Snow.” Cheryl claps for me, giving me a huge smile as I step up to the front of the room.

“Thank you, Cheryl,” I say, smiling at her. “She’s a wonderful resource for all of us here at Snow, so don’t be afraid to reach out to her. She is always willing to help, and she goes above and beyond for all of us.”

I’m turning to give her a round of applause when I spother.

I don’t know who she is, but sitting in the far righthand corner of the room in the very first row is a stunning, petite woman with strawberry blond hair and big round eyes. Her green cardigan is buttoned over a white blouse, which is tucked into a matching black-and-green checked skirt. She looks timeless, like she stepped out of a 1940s film noir.

“I uh…” I clear my throat, suddenly aware my train of thought has completely left the station without me. I snap my attention back to the room at large. “I want to thank each of you for accepting a position here at Snow Communications. I know there are a lot of amazing companies in Chicago who would be incredibly lucky to have you, but you chose us, and we don’t take that lightly. We do see ourselves as a family here, and I promise you that your opinions and voice matter and will be heard. I’ll never ask you to sacrifice your work-life balance, or your weekends or evenings for this company.”

I try to remain focused on the room but find my gaze wandering back to the mysterious woman who is studiously taking notes and nodding along as I speak. She looks young. If I had to guess, I’d say early twenties—a solid decade younger than me. The man next to her looks over at her, leaning in to whisper something that makes her smile slightly as a pink warmth spreads across her pale cheeks.

I wonder what he said. Do they know each other?

I wrap up my speech, thanking the new recruits again before stepping aside for Cheryl to make a few announcements about the office tour she will be conducting shortly.

“We have about fifteen minutes before the office tour. Mr. Snow has graciously agreed to stay behind for any questions and to meet with you.”

Several of the new employees immediately gather around me, asking me questions and introducing themselves.

“Great to meet you.” I smile graciously, subtly scanning the room for the young woman who’d captured my attention. I spot her close to the back of the room where she is standing all alone while picking at a donut from the breakfast spread Cheryl had ordered.

“Excuse me,” I say to the group around me, who are now talking among themselves. I stride toward the back of the room to where she’s standing with her back to me. My 6’2” stature towers over her smaller frame.

“Those ones are my favorite.”

“Huh?” She spins around so quickly she almost tumbles over, and I dart my hand out to grab her elbow and steady her. She stares up at me. “Oh, sorry did you want it? I think it’s the last one.” The pink tip of her tongue glides across her bottom lip, catching a small piece of glaze left by the donut.

“No.” I smile. “Thank you, though. Alex,” I say, holding out my hand. “Afraid I didn’t get your name?”

She smiles back. “Sadie. Sadie Emmert.” Her face turns red as she wipes the glaze from her fingers, then gently places her delicate hand in mine.

“Pleasure,” I say, holding onto her hand a little longer than professionally necessary. Something about this woman pulls at me, awakening more than just desire inside me. She is stunning but shy. “Thank you for coming aboard here at Snow. Sales?”

“Yes,” she answers matter-of-factly, her eyes still unblinking. “Thank you for hiring me, sir. I promise I won’t let you down.”

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