The Billionaires Club- The Complete Series

by Leslie North

  Grayson’s cool, collected smile returned then, and he brought the back of Mila’s hand to his lips. “Well said, honey.”

  John and his holier-than-thou friends wandered away then, and the cigar smell disappeared soon thereafter. Grayson leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers.

  “I didn’t want to out you about the pregnancy,” he whispered. “I didn’t feel right, but if I’d known—”

  “It’s fine,” she said, surprised he wasn’t upset with her over dropping the p-bomb. “They were the hugest assholes I’ve seen in a long time, and I couldn’t pass up the chance to use my trump card.”

  Grayson looked into her eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Then he brushed his lips against hers in an unexpectedly tender kiss.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “For what?”

  “For defending me. That kind of guy just gets under my skin—always has. In fact, I created this app in an attempt to help people deal with stuffed shirts like them. People of limited means might feel like they don’t know what to wear to fancy events, but with the app to help them, they won’t feel so out of place.”

  This little confession made her mouth part. She had no idea there was such a backstory to his technology. And maybe that was her fault for not inquiring more deeply. But this was exactly the sort of thing she wanted to know about him. Was desperate to know about him.

  “That’s very noble, and lovely,” she said, their mouths still inches away. This was the best intimate conversation of her life, and she didn’t want it to end. “But why do you feel so strongly about that?”

  Grayson’s gaze went stormy, and he watched her for a few moments without saying anything. Mila could sense there was a lot brewing behind his lips.

  But then a sharp “Grayson!” cut through the air. The film crew had arrived, and Grayson stood to receive them, an easy smile overtaking his face.

  Their conversation might be on hold for now, but Mila was determined to know more about the early events that shaped this man. The incident today provided a tantalizing window into his soul…and she was eager to dive in headfirst.

  12

  A few days later, Grayson was on his way to Starbrite Diner, one of the greasiest and most quietly famous diners tucked into the red tile campus of Stanford. He and his best friends had always made it a point to visit Starbrite at least once weekly when they were in business school together. Now, at this point in their careers, they had time to make it about once a month.

  But it happened without fail. All three of them couldn’t necessarily make it every time—Daniel in particular traveled so much for work that he seemed to spend more time away than he spent at home—but if they were in town, they came. Always. And as soon as Grayson pulled open the door and the scent of onions and coffee accosted him, he was back in his grad school years. Back when his excitement for the future was as strong as his anxiety about how to make ends meet.

  Coming back to campus always proved to be a valuable walk down memory lane, reminding him of how far he’d come in the years since graduation. And, as he’d proved last month, it served as a continuing source of inspiration, in his life and even in his career. And his best friends, who were more like brothers to him, never failed to help provide inspiration and plenty of laughs.

  Inside the diner, he immediately spotted Daniel and Blake in their favorite booth, tucked into the corner. They both stood to hug Grayson as he approached the table, greeting him as though it had been years apart instead of weeks.

  “About time you showed up,” Daniel teased.

  “Yeah, you’re one minute late. We thought that maybe it was because you had to drive yourself and you forgot how,” Blake went on. All three of them had personal drivers at this point, but Blake made it a point to rag on him the hardest since Grayson had been the last to come on board with the personal driver lifestyle aspect.

  “It’s called being fashionable,” Grayson shot back. “Which if any of you used my app, you’d already be by now.”

  Daniel snorted. “We already know how to dress, but thanks.”

  “But you’ve never been dressed by Finlay Technologies before.” Grayson winked. The harassment was all out of love. Whether they used his app or not, he knew with absolute certainty that these two men had his back. His friends were the first to invest in his very first business back when they were still grad students, and they would be there at the IPO to grab their fair share of this.

  “Just like you’ve never arrived after Daniel to dinner. Are you trying to take the title from Delayed Daniel?” Blake asked in mock horror.

  Grayson smirked. All three of them worked hard, but Daniel was the worst case of workaholic out of the three—even more so than Grayson. “No, it was just on loan to me today. I solemnly swear to continue my habitual early arrival behaviors.”

  His mind flashed to his missed meeting last month—the one that had brought him here on his inspiration-seeking mission. But Grayson’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out while Daniel and Blake shifted their conversation to a new tailor they’d both been trying recently.

  A text from Mila had arrived. “Just saw the response from the second challenge! You may have looked good, but my hat’s getting tons of raves. Even though your app won this round, I think I’ll win people over to my taste in the end,” she wrote, followed by a smirking emoji.

  Normally, he wouldn’t chat with anyone while at dinner with his friends, but it was hard to ignore her reaching out.

  “What was that about my app winning? Feel free to say that again.” He smirked as he responded.

  “You didn’t understand the first time? Tsk, do you need me to explain messaging? It’s not like you own your own tech company or something,” she wrote back.

  “Hey.” Daniel’s voice cut through his text conversation with Mila. “What’s all the grinning over there?”

  “Nothing,” Grayson said, before typing out his response. To her, he wrote: “I understand this much: no matter what happens with the challenge, you’ll still be the one I want picking out my emergency outfits.”

  As he re-read the text, he realized just how sappy it sounded. Man, was he in that deep already?

  “I think he’s talking to a new girlfriend,” Blake said.

  “You have a new girlfriend?” Daniel asked, his brows drawing together. “I wasn’t informed.”

  Grayson cleared his throat, the conversation naturally halting as a server came up to take drink and dinner orders. Once they’d all ordered the same dishes that they’d been getting for the last seven years—for Grayson, that meant a buffalo chicken sandwich that he’d fallen in love with as a first-year MBA student—Daniel brought the conversation back to where they’d left it.

  “So, tell me. Who’s your girlfriend? How’d you meet?”

  “Let me guess. You found an amazing hookup on that creepy new location-sharing dating app?” Blake offered.

  “Why do you guys assume the person I’m texting has something to do with my dating life?” Grayson knew the reason though—it was because they knew him better than even he knew himself.

  “Because of the look on your face,” Blake said with a shrug. Daniel nodded.

  Grayson sighed, toying with the silverware laid out on the flimsy paper mat in front of him. This would be the perfect opportunity to tell them all about the pregnancy. But diving into that topic meant fielding a lot of questions, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to answer to the majority of them yet. Whenever he was ready to share, they’d be the first to know. But it wasn’t quite the time.

  Still, he could give them a little.

  “I’ve started…something. With someone,” he said reluctantly.

  “Ah ha!” Blake jabbed his finger into the air victoriously. “I fucking knew it.”

  Daniel narrowed his eyes. “What does ‘something’ and ‘someone’ mean?”

  “A something means…I don’t know what it is. It’s new. And someone is…well…just t
hat. A lovely woman, in this case.” And the mother of my unborn child. Though he had a suspicion he’d still be distracted by Mila now, even if the pregnancy hadn’t unexpectedly cropped up.

  His friends nodded in agreement. But Daniel looked doubtful.

  “And you’re starting this ‘something’ right before your IPO?”

  Blake snorted. “Good point, Daniel. Enjoy your something while it lasts, brother. Because it won’t be lasting long.”

  The server returned with Grayson’s soda. He forced a smile as he took it, and then narrowed his eyes at his friends.

  But the truth was, they weren’t wrong. His business was what he’d been eating, drinking, and breathing for the past four years. He’d always had his eye on this prize—the IPO. But once he snatched that golden ring, he’d need to invest even more of his time and energy into the company, push it into even greater success to keep the stockholders happy. If he was lucky, he’d see the baby every other weekend and the holidays.

  With the way he’d structured the long-term vision of his career, there wouldn’t be time or space for anything in his life that wasn’t work—at least, not for the next few years. Not until he was sure that his fortune was secure, that he’d never end up poor or struggling again. But at least as the plan stood now, he’d be making sure that his child was far better off than he’d been growing up. So that right there was a huge benefit to this forthcoming little kid.

  So why did he still feel like he was doing something wrong?

  “Thanks for the early support,” Grayson said, lifting his cup of soda in a mock toast. “You won’t be invited to the wedding.”

  Blake roared in outrage at the very idea of being excluded, but Grayson missed most of what he said when another text buzzed through. His friends groaned as he got lost in the message thread again.

  “I was going to say hey, we only have one challenge left, but now I think that might make your wardrobe sad…” Mila wrote.

  “More than just my wardrobe,” Grayson wrote back, his fingertips burning as he pressed SEND. Yes, he was pushing the envelope here. But so was she. They were pushing it together. And why bother stopping when it felt right?

  Mila didn’t respond for a while, and he eased back into conversation with his brothers. When she did finally write back, the text said, “I’m not feeling too well, so I think I’m going to lay down for a while. Talk later.”

  He drew his brows together. He didn’t like the sound of that. He pocketed his phone just as their dinners showed up. The three of them dug in, and Grayson was able to push aside the worries about Mila and enjoy the meal with his closest friends.

  But once they’d finished their plates and razzed each other enough to last another month, Grayson pulled his friends into quick bro hugs and booked it back to his car. When his driver asked him where he’d be going now, Grayson didn’t hesitate.

  “Mila Tomlinson’s apartment.”

  The whole way to her apartment, Grayson practiced what he might say when he showed up. They weren’t exactly at show up unannounced to your apartment territory, but it was barely eight p.m. and after that last text from her, he was genuinely worried she might need help. She lived alone…was pregnant with his child…he knew he could explain away his concern.

  That didn’t keep the butterflies from swarming his stomach as he approached her door. Knock knock knock. He gnawed at the inside of his lip, anticipating her response. Her shock. Her anything.

  When the door swung open, the surprise on her pretty face was the first thing he saw. She wore pajamas and tousled hair, like she’d been lounging on the couch all evening.

  She blinked rapidly. “Grayson?”

  “Hey. Is it okay that I just showed up like this?” He looked over her shoulder, trying to gauge if he was interrupting anything.

  “Yeah. No. It’s fine. Is everything okay with you?” She stepped back, gesturing for him to come inside. Nervousness rolled off of her, and for a moment he regretted his decision to spring this visit on her.

  “I’m fine. I just wanted to check in on you.”

  “Check in on me?”

  “You said you weren’t feeling well.”

  She tugged at the tip of her thick mahogany ponytail. “Yeah, but it’s nothing major.”

  “Are you coming down with something? Did you have a bad day at work?”

  “I had my employee take over Honestly, I’ve just been vegging out.” She laughed weakly. “But I think I’m getting morning sickness.”

  “At eight p.m.?”

  She shrugged. “I haven’t eaten a bite all day. Haven’t wanted to.”

  Realization trickled through him. Yep. This sounded like morning sickness all right.

  “And how are you feeling now?”

  She sighed. “Grayson, I swear, this isn’t—”

  “I’m just trying to help.” He paused, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “I want to take care of you. I want to make you something to eat.”

  She visibly melted at that, a tiny smile crossing her face. “Okay, fine. As long as you strike my outfit today from your memory.”

  He snorted, looking her up and down. “Are you serious? This is the chicest of lounge wear.”

  “Yeah. My old college sweatshirt and ratty pajama pants.”

  “Even stylists need to have their comfy go-to.” He grinned as she shut the front door. He was on the inside, and now he could begin making progress. Toward what, he wasn’t sure. He just knew that he wanted to be here. With her. Near her. Getting to know her.

  “You would just hope that a stylist’s comfy go-tos don’t look like they belong in a dumpster.”

  Grayson snorted, having a hard time ripping his gaze off of her. If anything, the surprise visit was worth this: catching her when she was at her most relaxed. And maybe most vulnerable. “Now tell me what you want to eat. You really haven’t had anything all day?”

  “I haven’t. And I don’t even care. I just want to go lay down again.”

  “You lay down. I’ll take care of everything from here.” He hummed to himself as he began raiding her kitchen, looking at ingredients and trying to formulate a spur-of-the-moment dinner. Mila sighed as she eased back onto the couch facing the TV, which softly played a reality TV show.

  Grayson was happy to find that she had what he needed to make his own favorite comfort food: homemade mac n’ cheese. He rolled up his sleeves and set to work whisking milk and heating the cheese. If nothing else, he could provide a hearty meal for her after a long day of feeling like crap. And that made him at least a semi-decent baby daddy.

  “What are you making?” Mila asked after he’d set a huge pot of water to boil.

  “The only dish that matters in life. Mac n’ cheese.”

  She snickered. “Is that so? I must have missed the memo.”

  “When I was growing up, having mac n’ cheese meant that everything was okay. I wasn’t hungry. We had food in the house.” The gas stove ticked as he turned on the burner. “And even nowadays when I eat it, I feel calm.”

  Mila was quiet for a bit, leaving his words to rattle around inside his head. Why had he shared that? Usually he was tight-lipped about his past. Only his best friends knew about where he came from, and his mother, of course. He didn’t like letting people into his past.

  “Is that why you got so upset about what happened at the horse races?”

  Her observation arrived like a punch in the gut. He busied himself rummaging in cupboards, though he didn’t know what he was looking for other than a chance to avoid eye contact.

  “Those guys were just assholes,” he said.

  “Yeah, but your face changed when they called you new money.”

  He swallowed a knot. “Well, they weren’t wrong. It’s been a struggle, not gonna lie.”

  When he turned around, Mila was in the kitchen, easing onto a stool at the kitchen island facing him. Her green eyes burned with curiosity from behind her dark frames. “So you grew up poor.”

  He
laughed, but not because it was funny. “Yeah. Poorer than poor.”

  She nodded, lifting a brow. “Well, look at how far you’ve made it. Your parents must be so proud.”

  “My mom is thrilled. Probably most of all because I bought her her dream house. But my dad…he couldn’t be bothered to stick around. I never knew him. So maybe he’d be proud. But statistically, every point of data shows that he’s never given a damn.”

  Mila frowned, picking at her cuticle. “You’re already a better dad than him. Look at you. Making me your favorite mac n’ cheese just because I texted you earlier today.” She sighed, staring at something across the room. “Seriously, you make me wanna cry.”

  “That’s the pregnancy hormones, right?” He cracked a grin, heading her way. “But thanks. For saying that, I mean. I really have no idea what I’m doing though. I mean, I had no role model. I didn’t even have anyone teach me how to shave. I’m not going to be the best father for our kid.”

  Mila dragged her gaze up to meet his, tenderness burning there. Her eyes were watery as she said, “No. You’re wrong about that. Not having a dad has nothing to do with how you’ll be as a father. In fact, it’ll make you one of the best out there. I honestly believe that.”

  Her words burned through him. He wasn’t sure if he entirely believed it, but knowing that she did was an unexpected boost to his confidence. One that pushed him forward, headfirst into the murky area they’d sworn to avoid during the challenge.

  Grayson wasn’t sure what it was about her right now—the raw sincerity in her voice, or the fact that seeing her dressed down like this had him wanting to put on his own sweats and spend the night. Whatever it was, he couldn’t help himself. He drifted toward her, propelled by a throbbing desire for more of her.

  And then before he knew it, he was in front of her, cupping her face in his hands. Pressing one kiss after another to her lips.

  Screw what they’d said before.

  But only because her kisses didn’t lie. Mila wanted this just as much as he did.