Her Billionaire in Hiding (Texas Ranch Romance Book 3)

by Sophia Summers

  He could hear Jessie crying as he left.

  Jessie spent the morning reading some of the backstory to the pictures in the article and learned about the horrible things they’d said about Clara’s passing. She read about the Smith family and their holdings, and she realized this was the absolute worst thing that could have happened to Cooper. She was the fodder the paparazzi were looking for as they hounded him. They made him look like a fool for succumbing to her “sensual charms.” Great, that was just great. Jessie was just sick about the horrible things they were saying about her. Knowing she had the truth on her side did little to comfort.

  She called down to Mary. “I’m just going to stay in my room today. I think I’ll extend my vacation here another week if you have room.”

  She lay her head down on her pillow and cried. Patch got up beside her and rested his head by hers. She started to sing tentatively, and the words and music just poured out of her heart. Singing helped her express herself, and this horrible tale ached to get out. She got up and got her guitar and picked out the music. She didn’t know why she wrote it down; her career was ruined, along with her life.

  Cooper called the pilots that worked for the Smith Station. It would take a day for them to get there, so Cooper determined to wait at the airport hotel. He would not fly commercial under these circumstances. How could he be so stupid? Jessie had seemed perfect. He kicked the carpet. Too perfect.

  How could his heart be so wrong? He knew most of what the articles said about Jessie was an exaggeration, but the basic foundations were what hurt. He had believed for a while that life could be magical, but that was over.

  He couldn’t rid his mind of his memories of her. When he closed his eyes, he saw her. Their future had looked so bright, and the time they’d spent in Galveston would take years to erase from his soul, if he ever could. How could those beautiful lavender eyes hide such deceit? Even with all the evidence against her, he still couldn’t believe it. He was such a fool. Cooper tried to sleep, but he heard each hour as it slowly ticked by during the night.

  In the morning he took a cab to the executive airport in Houston. The cab drove him right out to the plane. He got out and climbed the stairs, trying not to thoroughly wake up. He planned to sleep on the way home. As he climbed through the door, he was surprised to see his mother.

  “Hello, Cooper, sit down.” His mother took a file out of her briefcase and laid it before him. “You might want to take a look at this.” She walked to the kitchen and came back. “Here, drink this, you look horrible.”

  He read the file. Typical retaliation techniques: paid actors in photoshopped pictures. Then he pulled out picture after picture of Jessie in compromising positions. But these images were in various stages of photoshopping. His heart filled with the heaviness of dread. Was he wrong to jump to such an immediate conclusion about his new wife? Could he mend this? Was it too late? “Oh, Jessie, I am so sorry.” How could he have assumed the articles were true? He had plenty of experience on the receiving end of such lies. They had made him look like a fool in public, again. And now in private too. I am a fool. I have personally done more damage to our relationship than these articles ever could. Coop rubbed his head with his hand. His despair turned to self-recrimination. He had a splitting headache.

  “ ‘Sorry’ isn’t going to fix this, Coop. You are.” His mother had hired a private investigator, who had contacted Mr. Wood, the man in the pictures, who’d supposedly had an affair with Jessie, and got him to confess that a representative of the record company had paid him to pose for those pictures. He was an actor and was very happily married to his wife of twenty years. He also said this was common practice for that particular record company. She also had a confession from the representative who’d hired Mr. Wood.

  Then she showed him the best part. “Turns out, Jessie’s songs were a big hit in Australia. Cooper, this is a new recording contract.”

  He looked it over briefly. It was a contract for Jessie from the leading record label in Australia.

  “Stations have been calling constantly to have permission to play her songs. She’s very talented. I am proud to call her my daughter.”

  “Mother, this is amazing.” He looked down at his hands. He had joined the fray, attacking the woman he loved. “She will never take me back after how I acted.”

  “Let’s see if we can fix this. I called in a few favors. Clean yourself up, Coop. I have some journalists here to interview you.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  But Coop washed his face and put on a new shirt and tie. He opened the door to the conference room of the jet. A camera man was setting up the scene, a make-up artist came over to him, and a woman he recognized from television stood up to shake his hand. “Thanks for doing this, Mr. Smith.”

  Coop sat down in the chair they designated. He sat back, watching warily as they set up for the shoot. The whole scene made him nervous, but he reminded himself that his mother was using them for her purposes. He needed to clear Jessie’s name. She deserved so much more than this, especially from him. Looking back, he could count numerous times that she had tried to tell him.

  He took a deep breath and said he was ready. She asked questions, and he answered honestly. His story was out, and the record was set straight. He told them that he would be taking legal action against Mr. Becker, Jessie’s agent, and the company as a whole. The evidence had already been sent to the authorities. The newswoman said she was doing a report on the movie industry, with a couple other women who had come out with reports of similar behavior from producers. She planned to use Jessie’s story as an example of their corruption.

  Jessie spent the night and most of the next day in her room, wiping tears from her eyes. Her life was worse than she had even conceived possible. She knew she couldn’t stay shut up here forever. She had to make some plans. But right now, she didn’t know what to do tomorrow, next week, or next year. Maybe she could return to school once this fiasco died down.

  As she tried to fight her complete devastation, she heard someone running up the stairs. “Jessie! Jessie, come down quick.”

  She opened her door. Mary was standing in the hall. “Coop is on television.”

  Jessie came down just as Coop began the interview.

  “Let me say at the outset that my wife, who I love dearly, has been maligned by these people.”

  Jessie dropped to the chair with more tears running down her cheeks as she listened to the rest of the interview. The station was doing a special on the persecution that happened in the movie and music industries. They used Jessie’s experience as a prime example, starting with the agent targeting a girl new to the recording world, then giving her a taste of power, money, and fame in the hopes that she would go along with the terms of the contract. If she didn’t, they ruined her reputation so legal recourse would be unlikely.

  The reporter said they were already getting calls from other unfortunate victims of schemes like this one.

  Jessie’s mother called. “Jessie, did you see the interview? I’m getting calls from nearly everyone in town praising your strength and integrity. The pastor hopes you will speak to the youth when you are back in town. Brooklyn said she would fix this, and she surely did.”

  “Coop’s mother?” Jessie stood up to pace the room.

  “Yes, she talked about doing something like this at the wedding when we told her what had happened to you. She called this morning to tell us about the interview so we didn’t miss it.”

  “You told her everything at the wedding?”

  “Well, Jessie, she isn’t the type of woman you say no to.”

  Jessie smiled and agreed with her mother. She felt numb. Her sorrow and her tears had taken their toll. She needed some space. She headed outside to walk around the lake. Patch and Freckles seemed relieved. “I’m sorry, pups. I’ve been pretty depressing company lately.”

  When she got to the tree fort, she climbed up inside. The dogs lay down on the road beneath her. She looked up
through the leaves to the blue sky above, humming a new tune.

  Patch and Freckles started barking.

  “What is it, pups?” She looked over and saw Chase booking it around the lake. Coop followed close behind and walked up to her tree.

  “I have always wanted to climb up into this tree fort.”

  “Well, you know there is really only room for one up here.” Jessie was smiling, her heart filling with hope.

  “That’s what I heard. But I might just try anyway.” He climbed up, raised the hatch, and squeezed himself through the opening. “You weren’t kidding.”

  Jessie grabbed his hand and pulled him up. He took her in his arms and they swayed back and forth.

  “Jessie, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me for leaving.”

  “I read it all, Coop. I know how they have harassed you. I’m so sorry this happened. My story is the worst thing you could have seen.”

  “I was an idiot to leave you like that.” Coop took her hand. “I should have listened to you.”

  Jessie shook her head. “I’m sorry about Clara. I know your whole life is tied up with memories of your time growing up with her. And they made a mockery of that.”

  “She and Jerry were my best friends, but you are the love of my life.”

  Jessie wiped her eyes and asked, “How did your mother do it?”

  “She has a lot of connections—and money. But here, look at this.” Coop pulled out the new recording contract and gave it to Jessie.

  “Oh, Coop, this is amazing!” She paused. “Should we read it first?” They both smirked a little, not quite ready to be amused but certainly ready to be together.

  Epilogue

  Two Years Later

  Jessie was a huge success in Australia. The Smiths built a recording studio on their property so she wouldn’t have to travel to make records. The producers traveled to her.

  They finished their beautiful home close to the station’s homestead. Coop wanted an inside pool and an aviary. Jessie wallpapered their room with scenes from a cypress grove. When Coop suggested they get a pet crocodile, she put her foot down.

  Any time her parents wanted to visit, Coop sent the private jet.

  Patch and Chase loved the freedom of the bush. Coop purchased a female Australian Shepherd. The puppies were in high demand. He sent one to Carson for Christmas.

  His mother was more than happy to travel less now that her grandson, Jerry, toddled around her garden.

  Coop and Jessie sat in the garden by the pond, watching the waterfall cascade down the rocks as their son, Jerry, floated paper boats down the stream. Coop looked over. Both Chase and Patch were curled up at Jessie’s feet. Chase even had his paw stretched out to touch her foot.

  Coop sighed. ”In the end everything turned out perfect, but I lost Chase, my previously loyal dog.”

  Jessie smiled down at Chase and petted his head. “Well, Coop, you don’t sing to him like I do.”

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  Her other books in this series:

  Her Billionaire Cowboy

  Her Billionaire Protector

  Her Billionaire in Hiding

  Her Billionaire Christmas Secret

  The Billionaire Royals

  The Heir

  The Crown

  The Duke

  The Duke’s Brother

  The Prince

  The American

  The Spy

  The Princess

  AND a Christmas Book, Taming Scrooge

  Read Chapter One of Her Billionaire Christmas Secret

  Chapter One

  The snow fluttered down onto Peter’s windshield, the flakes getting larger the longer he waited. He sat in his Jaguar, with the motor running, a few houses away from the Woodlock home. He watched until all the lights went out. As the flakes started to clump together, it looked like there might be a white Christmas in Kentucky this year. Their home was in an older, but well-kept, neighborhood. Large trees graced the small front yards. Each house was decorated with Christmas lights of every color, and the porches were adorned with garlands and red bows. But the Woodlock home stood out. Lights wrapped the whole house, not just the front porch, and the trees were glistening with bright color.

  He waited an hour and then quietly opened the trunk and took out a bright red Mongoose 20-inch Outerlimit BMX bike. He rolled it over to their house and placed it on the front porch. The bike lock that he pulled from his pocket secured the bike to the porch railing. As he walked back down the sidewalk, he placed an envelope in their mailbox with the combination.

  Peter drove off, another anonymous Christmas present for Dani and her son Sam delivered. He turned up the Christmas music on the radio and sang along. As he drove through the countryside to the airport, he thought back to the days when he’d been on the receiving end of the Dugan family’s love. He had lived next door to them from the time he was four years old.

  Whenever his father had too much to drink, his mother always said, “Dad is sick Peter, he needs his rest.” But he knew from his schoolmates that his father was an alcoholic. His mother was so busy working to support the family that he rarely saw her, and when he did, she was too exhausted to speak with him. He remembered laying his head on her lap while she watched TV and slept in her ratty, old kick back chair. “Mom, I did well in school today.” She would reach her hand down and pat his head and fall back asleep. These moments would have been the only comforting memories of his childhood if not for the Dugans.

  The day they moved in next door to the Dugans, Dannell came over to watch his father carry furniture into the house. “What’s your name, boy? I’m Dani.” He smiled as he pictured that little Dani with hair so curly it was constantly escaping the pigtails she wore each day. The frizz created a halo around her rosy-red cheeks. Her deep green eyes sparkled with excitement, and her dark brown hair stayed sun-kissed all year long.

  She had stood on his front porch, all smiles and confidence. He was so shocked that she spoke to him he turned around and ran back into the house. She followed him inside and found him in an upstairs bedroom, sitting in the corner. She pulled a Tootsie Pop out of her pocket and gave it to him, then she unwrapped one for herself. “Come on, do you want to see our kitties?” He’d followed her, just like he had every day since. Dani became his best friend.

  As he got older, he realized fully the shame of a father as the town drunk. The children made fun of him at school. Peter still cringed as he remembered a day when the neighborhood kids were outside playing softball at the corner. Gary, the boy on second base, was making catcalls to Peter as he came up to bat. “He’s a loser just like his Dad. We can strike him out.” Peter hung his head in shame, trying not to cry. Then Dani ran up behind Peter, grabbed the bat, and took off after Gary. Gary tried to back up but not soon enough. Dani slammed the bat into his shins, and he fell over, crying.

  “Dani, what’s your problem?” Gary cried. The other kids who had been laughing, moved away from Dani, wary.

  “Don’t make fun of my friend!” Dani yelled. She marched back to the plate and gave him back the bat. “Okay, let’s play now.”

  He had been amazed someone would do that for him.

  As time passed, he spent more and more of his waking hours at the Dugans’ home. He ate dinner there most days, and every day, Dani’s mom, Mary, packed him a lunch. She often pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Peter, I swear, your hair is as curly as Dani’s.”

  His mother worked two jobs and also did the darning and some simple alterations for the Dugan family. He knew his mother appreciated the meals and lunches they gave him while she was away at work. She would often say, “You mind your p’s and q’s at the Dugans.”

  Dani and Peter spent their summers in the tree fort out back. They played that they were astronomers in a space ship. They played that they were explorers in the jungle. They played that they were a crocodile family living in the swamp. He wondered if
they were ever simply going to pretend to be in a house. They never did. One day out of the blue, she said, “I love you, Peter. When we grow up, we are going to be married.” She pushed him into the dad role of their make believe games. “You are the dad, Peter, you are the protector.” Play became more fun for Peter after that. He fought the black knights. He chased the voracious dragons away. He returned with the treasure.

  Peter stretched in his car. Driving was slow with the snow. However, it gave him time to think and to remember. His Christmas deliveries were the one time of year he allowed himself to sink deep into his memories. They were full of might-have-been’s and could-never-be’s, but once a year, he let himself relive some of his happiest and saddest days.

  When he was fourteen years old, the Dugans were planning a month-long vacation to Washington State. They asked his parents if he could come with them. The idea of actually going on a vacation was too much of a thrill to even think about for Peter. When his parents said yes—as long as he got a sub for his paper route—he was beside himself with joy. He didn’t even mind that his clothes were old and stained. “Where are we going, Dani?”

  “To Snoqualmie, Washington on the Skykomish River for a whole month. Look, I even have the travel guide that Mom bought.”

  This was a dream come true. Play with Dani was always exciting, but being with her in the forest left no limits for his imagination. And he had a goal. Even though Dani had told him she loved him, he had never returned the sentiment. But he loved her more than any person in his life. He was getting older, and he wanted to express his feelings toward her. Every time he planned to do it, he just couldn’t get the words out. He was hoping on this trip he would find the courage.

  The first day they went out to see the river. It was roaring with rapids from the spring runoff. They could see snow on the mountain peaks in the distance. Henry and Mary Dugan came out with them. “Okay, kids, this river is going to be a temptation. But you do not want to fall in. These rapids will carry you fast downstream to a huge waterfall. Even though you’re good swimmers, the currents are too strong.” Henry threw a stick in, and they all watched how fast it was swept by.