The Billionaire's Duty: Secret Billionaire’s Club

by Tracey Pedersen

  “Jessa, check the toiletries if you’re in the bathroom. Or the tags on the towels. They usually have the hotel or some kind of branding.” Mimi is smart. I’ve always liked her. She’s the one who suggested we each add the finder thing to our phones a few months back.

  I do a quick check but it’s starting to become clear that if this is a hotel, it’s one that would never stoop to branding their linen or toiletries. I think I’m seeing how the other half live—and becoming even more convinced that Mr. Ronstein has something to hide. Places like this do not come cheap. The bastard will probably demand I pay him back for the room.

  “No luck. The little shampoos say La Boheme. Super fancy.”

  Mimi sucks in a breath. “Ooh. I know that brand. It’s top of the line. Maybe you’ve been kidnapped by a Sheikh.”

  The two of us laugh but that makes Jasper even more mad.

  “Jessa. I want you to call me back the second you find out what’s going on. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, big brother, I hear you.” I’m pleased to speak normally again. The urge to whisper disappeared when Mimi told me this was Beverley Hills. No way is a kidnapper putting me up in six star finery in Beverley Hills. I go back to staring out the window. I must be on the ninth or tenth floor.

  We end the call with another promise from me to make contact in the next few hours. Jasper insists he’ll contact the Australian embassy and report me missing if he doesn’t hear from me. I set a reminder on my phone to call him back.

  I’d very much like to get my hands on a local sim card before I make that call.

  Chapter Eight - Cross

  It’s well after nine when the door across from the kitchen opens and a bright eyed Jessa Collins steps out. She has wet hair and clean skin, and she’s wearing a red sheath dress that leaves nothing to the imagination. I thought she might be worried about waking up here but the only sign she’s uncertain is the way she clutches her phone in her hand.

  That’s some grip.

  Her blue eyes flit around the room and settle on me leaning against the kitchen counter. They widen, then she takes a breath and the shutters come down. The bulldog from the tax office is back.

  “Hi.” I don’t know what else to say. This is not where I thought I’d be tonight. Damn Wyatt for cancelling. We had plans to hit the town. Instead I hit the gym and now I’m standing here facing my nemesis.

  “Hi.” She moves across the room as she peers around, taking in the surrounds, and frowning at the giant fish tank set into the wall. “You like fish?”

  “Not particularly. If I had to clean the tank that’d be the end of them. The hotel seems to like them, though.”

  She leans against a stool at the counter. “I wonder if guests get rowdy and pour alcohol into the water? I can see rock stars doing that after a big night.” Her tone says she’s musing, but her eyes miss nothing. I get the feeling she’s catalogued the entire room in the time it took to cross it. She’s even catalogued me and by the expression on her face found me wanting.

  “I can ask at reception, if you like. Clear up any mystery or questions you have.”

  “Oh, I have a lot of questions.” She sits and leans her chin on her hands, looking up at me.

  I cough before I speak. Something about her makes me feel off balance. Not a sensation I enjoy. “Not about the fish, I’m guessing.”

  “You’d be right.” She holds up a finger. “Number one—where are we? Number two—why don’t I remember anything after the airport? Three—”

  “Woah. Let’s do them one by one shall we? First, you’re in a hotel. In Beverley Hills.”

  “I worked out that much. Which hotel?”

  “It doesn’t have a name.”

  “What? Why?”

  “It just doesn’t. Only a select clientele are invited to stay here. It’s private and we keep it that way.”

  “It’s your hotel?”

  “No. I own mines. Or companies related to mining. I rarely branch out.”

  “Your name is on several trust accounts that own large amounts of property.”

  I manage not to flinch. If I thought we were going to have a nice conversation and leave business out of it tonight, I was wrong. This woman doesn’t let anything go. She doesn’t play nice. She goes in for the kill at every opportunity.

  “Since you know that, you can check and confirm all of my investments are related to mining. Either land where we plan to extract something of value. Offices to house our staff. Or personal assets of mine.”

  She drops her gaze to the counter. “No chalets at the snow fields? Shares in retirement villages?” She puts the most innocent expression on her face and lifts her eyes to meet mine, again. “No charitable organisations that have benefited from you gifting them pesky old historic buildings you’ve got no more use for, that suddenly become a nice fat tax deduction?”

  White heat rushes through me, spreading across my chest and shooting all the way to my fingertips. I know my face has turned red and there’s not a thing I can do about it. The smirking woman in front of me blinks, waiting for an answer.

  I bite the inside of my mouth and try to calm the pounding in my ears. I concentrate on keeping my hands splayed on the counter, instead of letting them curl into fists.

  An explanation is wasted. She’s made her mind up about me. Even though she’ll find nothing, she’ll keep digging, convinced I have something to hide. She has a truckload of intel and she’s determined to unload it as and when it’s needed.

  Instead of arguing, I choose to walk away.

  My tone is controlled when I reply. “Check your facts, Ms. Collins. You’re so far wide of the mark, it’s not even funny. I’m going to bed.” I nod toward a phone mounted on the wall. “Use the phone to order yourself dinner. It will be charged to me. Failing that, you’re welcome to remove yourself to your own hotel.”

  “Did you eat?” Her words follow me to my bedroom door. I want to ignore her and slam it behind me, but manners, or something else, make me turn back.

  “No, I didn’t eat, but I’ve lost my appetite. I’d rather be hungry than listen to your accusations. I have an early start tomorrow and no patience for an inquisition.”

  We stare at each other, two sides at war, and then she slides off her stool.

  “If I give you a pass for tonight would you have dinner with me?”

  “Why?” My voice is icy, and I don’t even care. The last thing I want to do is eat a meal with a woman who thinks so little of me. Too bad it’s not Memorial Day until the weekend. I could have said yes, endured a tense hour or two, and told Danny I’d fulfilled my part of the bet. Funny, I’d forgotten about that until she asked me to dinner right now. “Well?”

  “I’d like to go out and eat.”

  “Room service has everything. Ask them to get something from a local restaurant if you want. They’ll bring it back and serve it on twenty-two carat gold china.” I turn away but like the bulldog she is, she’s not done.

  “I’m wide awake and I’ve never been to LA. I’d like to explore a little.”

  “Unlike you, I haven’t slept the afternoon away. And I didn’t get any sleep on the plane.” I frown at her. “You should have stayed awake and had an early night. Now your sleep will be messed up.”

  “I’m learning that.” She looks around the room, then back to me. “You sure you won’t join me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Do you have a room key for me then?”

  “You’re going out anyway?”

  “Yes.” Her response is emphatic. “I don’t need a body guard. I just thought you might like to eat.”

  I cross the room, arguing silently with myself. I should toss her the key, have my shower and get an early night. Instead, I’m tempted to go with her. Her eyes do something to me. Her fascination with the luxury flight and now this hotel is refreshing. Besides my closest friends, I don’t meet many people who are unaffected like this. Even though she’s convinced I’m hiding a secret, she seem
s like an open book. I can’t explain, even to myself, but I want to persuade her to see things my way. For whatever reason, I’m compelled to find out more about her. To peel back the layers and get to the real woman underneath all the bite.

  If she’ll let me.

  Chapter Nine - Jessa

  I put my hand over the wine glass and shake my head at the waiter. “Not for me. Just water, thanks.” He nods and fills the other glass, then returns with water to fill mine so I turn my attention to the man sitting across the table. He’s relaxed as he examines the menu, but I’m beginning to realise he hides his feelings well.

  Not his feelings of anger, of course. Whenever I annoy him his tight mouth and furious tone give him away. He practically stomped as he led the way to this restaurant. Why he agreed to come I cannot fathom. As I’m studying his strong nose, he looks up and catches me.

  “See anything you like?”

  “Umm.” I frown and pick up my water. He can’t be flirting with me, can he?

  He makes it clear that I’ve lost my mind to think so when he nods at my menu. “You must be starving. The last thing you ate was on the plane.”

  “I’m famished, actually. I’m getting pasta.”

  “You eat a lot of pasta?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “You had lasagne on the flight.”

  He remembers what I ate. Our time together on the plane was awkward and he seemed to do his best to ignore me. Maybe my attempts to annoy him worked.

  “My turn to ask questions.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Why can’t I remember anything after the airport?”

  “Probably because you took two more of those pills in the car. I had to carry you to the room—the driver was most concerned. What were they?”

  “Travel sickness tablets that I got in Egypt. I forgot how potent they were back then, but I’m convinced they’ve doubled in strength since. They’ve even changed colour.”

  “If there were any left, I’d say you should throw them out, but you downed the lot. I never got your hotel details from you, so I brought you to mine.”

  “Lucky you had room.”

  He shrugs. “There was meant to be two of us.”

  “That’s right. Your friend—Wyatt, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Stop pretending you don’t know he’s in the picture you showed me. Wyatt Fletcher.”

  I smile and take another sip of water. My mouth is parched as though the Egyptian travel sickness tablets are recreating the desert environment of their country of origin. “He’s a farmer.”

  “That he is.”

  “A farmer with lots of spare cash.” I raise an eyebrow and watch as a frown creeps over his features.

  “You said no talking shop.”

  “I did. Sorry.” The waiter takes our order and I use the opportunity to look around. “This is an upmarket place. Do you ever venture out with the ordinary people?” I watch as his expression changes again. He’s fascinating to observe and I can’t look away. Every time I needle him, I get the impression he’s arguing with himself over his response.

  “This was the closest spot to the hotel. You need to rest a little before you start exploring for hours on end. I’m not carrying you home.”

  “Why aren’t you kicking me out onto the street tonight?”

  “Why would I? I have room. You’re free to leave if you want to. Your hotel must be wondering where you are.”

  “Hmm.”

  He doesn’t need to know that I’m officially homeless tonight. I shouldn’t push too hard, or he will make me find a hotel. In this neighbourhood that could turn out to be expensive.

  “Oh shoot.” Thoughts of money remind me of my promise to make another overpriced call to Jasper and I dig in my bag for my phone. “Sorry, I need to make a quick call.”

  “Go ahead. Do you need some privacy?”

  I frown as he stands up. “Stay there.” I wave my hand. “It’s my brother. I called him when I woke up and he insisted I call him again in an hour or two. Actually, I’ll just text.” I send my text and put the phone on the table. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”

  “I’m going to visit the family of a man my grandfather served with.”

  “They’re nearby?”

  “Yes. In Anaheim.”

  “Near Disneyland?”

  “Probably.”

  “Will it take all day?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Have you been to Disneyland?”

  He leans back in his chair. “You’re not serious?”

  “Why not?” We stare at each other as our meals arrive. My mouth waters as the pile of steaming carbs claims my attention. I want to shovel in huge mouthfuls, but that’s not very ladylike. I pick up my fork and repeat my question. “Why not?”

  “Because you’re working, for one. What will your boss think of you going to Disneyland with your current victim?”

  I snort when he says victim. My top lip fuses itself to a piece of fettuccine and I squeak as it burns the delicate skin. He laughs as he cuts into his steak.

  “We could call a truce.” I shrug and he laughs again.

  “You don’t have a truce in you. You can barely stay off the subject of business for this one dinner.”

  I take another mouthful and make a face at him. “I could try harder.”

  He laughs again and then lays his cutlery on his plate. “I’ll make you a deal if you like. I was thinking about this while you were sleeping.”

  “What deal?” I’m immediately suspicious.

  “I can only guess that you planned to stay close to me this trip?” I nod as I chew and amusement flits across his face. “I have no idea how you thought you’d pull that off but let me make it easier for you. I’ll take you with me everywhere I go on this trip. I’ll even take you to Disneyland if that will make you happy. I’ll get you a remote login for the business accounts so you can snoop around whenever you like.”

  “Why would you do that Mr. Ronstein?”

  “Cross, please. Two reasons. One—I already told you I don’t have anything to hide and I meant it. The sooner you work that out, the sooner I can get rid of you. Two—” he holds up his fingers as he speaks. “I have a very useful business rule that I try to abide by whenever a choice presents itself.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Keep your friends close. Keep your enemies closer. You, Bulldog, are the enemy.”

  Chapter Ten - Jessa/Cross

  Jessa

  The family visit with Cross is eye-opening. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in casual clothes—he wore a tie to dinner last night—and it makes him a lot more approachable. I offer to wait outside during the visit, but he insists I come in, introducing me as his friend. The family are thrilled to see him, and everyone talks at once as they swap stories and get to know each other.

  I feel like an intruder, watching this very personal meeting.

  Cross is laid back, and he laughs a good portion of the visit. They insist we stay for lunch and his eyes flick to me, giving me the chance to say no. I have no right to cut his visit short, though, since this is a big part of the reason why he came on this trip. I nod my head and we’re ushered outside, drinks pressed into our hands, as the next round of stories begin. Several times we pose for pictures and are promised copies.

  I laugh to myself, imagining Phil’s reaction were he to see us together. I can hear his voice inside my head cautioning me about doing anything to risk our department’s reputation.

  He says that to me a lot. I generally ignore him.

  As the day wears on I watch as Cross and an older woman sink deep into conversation. I glance back every now and then, but my attention is mostly claimed by two small children who’ve taken a liking to me. Lily and Liam are five year old twins and they have more energy than is good for them. They run back and forth, presenting me with flowers plucked from the garden, certificates they’ve received from their childcare, and even a piece of cake.


  When they’ve disposed of my empty plate, they each clamber onto a knee and set about braiding my hair. Their little fingers clutch at the thick strands as they work and discuss my funny Australian accent as though I’m not sitting right here. A minor argument breaks out over whether to add flowers to my new hair and then I notice Cross staring at me. I grin and he nods, before the woman takes his attention again. I watch him press a small box into her hands and pass her a tissue when she starts to cry. He hugs her and she clutches at his shirt, her sobs louder now.

  “Oh, Grandma, are you okay?” Another relative steps in to rescue Cross, but he doesn’t need it. He’s not embarrassed by her tears, nor by the glisten in his own eyes. She holds his hand and they settle back, content to continue their chat. We smile at each other when my small friends are whisked away for a bath and bedtime.

  The sunny afternoon has given way to a dusky glow when we say our goodbyes. I sink gratefully into the back seat of the car Cross organised and we both wave goodbye. I’m almost sad to leave these people I didn’t know a few hours ago.

  “Guess we’ll have to do Disney tomorrow.”

  “Oh, it’s fine.” I shake my head and add a laugh. “I didn’t realise this would be so much fun.”

  “Me either.”

  “They loved having you visit.”

  “It’s been a long time coming. Last time I was close they were away on a family holiday.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t invite me along to try to convince me you’re a great guy?”

  “Maybe.” He laughs. “Did it work?”

  “A tiny bit. If you tried this while I was auditing in your office, it wouldn’t work one bit.”

  “It was those kids. They got under your bulldog defences, didn’t they?”

  I laugh. “They were super cute.”

  “I need to be honest, Jessa.” It’s the first time he’s used my name to my face and it has me sitting up to take notice. “It’s important to me that you understand I’m not a crook. I don’t know why.” He shrugs and looks away. “I’m not often accused of being shady and I don’t like it. My friends won’t like it, when you extend your investigation to them.”