The Billionaire's Email-Order Bride

by Vivi Holt

  “Nope, please tell me, because I’d love to have some kind of revelation that’d make my life simpler.”

  Momma chuckled. “You need to get out there and start dating again. A man would—”

  Cassidy’s eyes narrowed and she pulled away from Momma’s towel. “A man? That’s the last thing I need right now. Another person to take care of, to think about, wanting things from me.” Her voice almost broke, and Momma’s smile faded.

  “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t think…”

  “It’s okay.” She reached for Momma Boulin’s hand and squeezed it. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. But I’m exhausted. I’m so tired, that even the thought of dating is too much to take. Having to think about finding a babysitter and spending an evening making small talk, it’s overwhelming when all I want to do is fold the five tons of laundry currently in baskets at my house into small piles while I sip a glass of wine in front of the television before collapsing into bed.”

  Momma’s smile was wan. “Things will get better.”

  “Will they?” Cassidy let herself be led to another chair in front of a full-length mirror. She slumped down into the chair and stared at the reflection of her own pale face. Dark smudges beneath blue eyes, blonde hair turned dark by the water hung lank around a narrow face. Lines creased the corners of her eyes and around her mouth where laughter had once ruled.

  “Yes, they will,” Momma went on. “Losing a husband… well, it’s the worst thing that can happen aside from losing a child. But you’ll get through this too. I lost mine, you know?”

  Cassidy focused on the stylist’s face. “That’s right. How long ago was it?”

  “Thirty-two years this month.” Her lips pushed into a single, straight line.

  Cassidy exhaled slowly. “So, it gets easier, huh?”

  “It does. It might be a while yet, since Christopher’s only been gone a year. But you’ll get there.”

  “A year…” Cassidy pondered the woman’s words. She was right. It’d been a year since Christopher drew his last breath, though it didn’t feel like it. The busyness of working two jobs and taking care of three children had chased the time away like it was nothing. A year since cancer destroyed their family and tore out her heart. Still, she’d been in mourning for three, with them fighting the disease from the moment they found out the truth behind his fatigue, until the very end.

  “I’m sorry you have to give up the house.” Momma Boulin pushed a brush through Cassidy’s still-wet hair with steady strokes.

  “Me too.” Cassidy sighed. “I’ve been trying to keep up with the mortgage, but I can’t, and the bank says they’ll evict us unless we sell and pay up.”

  “Well, you don’t want that.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Cassidy sat still while Momma Boulin trimmed the ends of her hair, her thoughts running through the list of things she had to do that day. Talking to a realtor was at the top of the list. Then there were groceries to buy, a trip to the pharmacy to make, and other errands she didn’t get the chance to do when she was working, which was usually all the time. Today she had a rare day off since, if she didn’t list the house for sale soon, they wouldn’t even have the option.

  “Why does everyone call you Momma Boulin?” asked Cassidy.

  Momma stopped trimming. “I guess ‘cause I couldn’t have children of my own, so I just took to everyone else’s.”

  “You’ve helped to raise half this town, including me,” murmured Cassidy.

  Momma Boulin smiled, displaying a row of white teeth behind full, red lips. “I guess I have.”

  ***

  The main street of Ocilla, Georgia, never saw much in the way of bustle, nor traffic either. There was one realtor, Maisie Day, and that was who Cassidy was on her way to see, though she’d rather have her fingernails pulled one by one than face the woman she’d graduated high school with twelve years earlier, right after Maisie laced the insides of Cassidy’s sneakers with superglue.

  They’d barely been on speaking terms since. Something that was hard to pull off when you lived in a town the size of Ocilla.

  She pushed through the realtor’s door, setting off an alarm that buzzed in the back of the office behind a wall that held a pale blue and green replica of some famous artwork that Cassidy recognized but couldn’t name. She’d never been much good at remembering the names of artists, rock stars, movie stars or anyone else famous for that matter. She’d always been the practical type, never one to value another person higher than anyone else just because a few more people knew their name. Fame was a puzzling concept to her, and one she’d happily spend the rest of her life without. Her only dreams in that moment were to find a way to manage paying for rent and food.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Cassidy Hayes.” Maisie appeared through a door in the back, wiping a napkin around the edges of her mouth with a wry smile.

  “Hi Maisie.” She’d just have to get through this by being polite, friendly but firm. There was no need to drag up the past. She needed Maisie’s help for a business deal, nothing more than that. She only hoped Maisie could be professional.

  “What can I do for you?”

  Cassidy fingered the edge of Maisie’s desk. “I need to sell my house.”

  Maisie offered her what looked like a warm smile. “Great. Why don’t you take a seat and we can talk about it?” She waved a manicured hand in the direction of a chair opposite her own.

  Cassidy sat, setting her purse on the floor beside her. She leaned forward, placing both hands on Maisie’s desk. “I was hoping you might come by and take a look at the place… let me know how much you think I might be able to get for it.”

  Maisie’s lips pursed. “I can do that. Can I ask why you’re selling?”

  Cassidy sighed. She’d hoped Maisie wouldn’t pry beneath the surface. She hated everyone knowing her personal business, although that ship had sailed long ago in this town.

  “You know I lost Chris?”

  Maisie nodded. “I was so sorry to hear that.”

  “Thank you. Well, the treatments were expensive, and insurance didn’t cover everything. So, with the medical bills the way they are… well, I just have to sell, is all.”

  Maisie straightened a pile of paperwork on her desk, her red fingernails clacking against the hard timber surface. “I see. So, you’re in a hurry?”

  Cassidy paused before nodding. “Yes.”

  “That’s a shame, ‘cause things aren’t moving real fast in this market.”

  Cassidy’s heart sank.

  “Still,” continued Maisie, watching her face closely. “We’ll see what we can do, shall we? No point giving up until we have to.”

  “Thanks Maisie. I appreciate any help you can give us.”

  “Of course.” Maisie beamed. “I’m happy to do anything I can. Especially after…” She frowned and her voice faded.

  Cassidy hated this part. People wanted to show sympathy, but their pity made her heart hurt. They didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t know how to make it easier for them.

  “You mean after the way you glued my socks inside my shoes on the last day of school?”

  Maisie’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “You did! Don’t you recall?”

  “I… I guess I remember that. It wasn’t what I was thinking of though.”

  “You glued my socks right inside my shoes, and I couldn’t ever get them out again. I loved those shoes.”

  Maisie’s nostrils flared.

  “I had the entire class laugh at me on my very last day at the school. Everyone thought it was completely hilarious. Except me of course. I was mad as a hornet.”

  Maisie bit down on her lip, then let the smile free. “I remember you dancing around with your face dark as thunder.” She giggled. “It was pretty funny.”

  “You never apologized either,” huffed Cassidy.

  Maisie laughed. “I’m sorry. Really, I am.” She attempted to push the grin from her face. “It
wasn’t very kind, I know. But back then all I thought about was how I could make people laugh. I wasn’t pretty like you, you know.” Her lips pursed and she tapped the end of her fingernails against the desk.

  Cassidy frowned. She’d never thought of it that way. Only ever believed Maisie had teased her and played practical jokes because she was cruel.

  “Well, I guess it would’ve been pretty hilarious to see me trying so hard to get my feet out of my shoes, then hopping around the place like a bunny on hot sand.”

  The two women laughed together until the sound died away, and Cassidy was surprised to find moisture in the corners of her eyes when she wiped them. It’d done her good to laugh. Something she’d never thought she’d do with Maisie Day.

  “How’s the family?” she asked when the laughter stopped.

  Maisie wiped her own eyes with a sigh. “Ed’s good. Though we’ve been trying to get pregnant now for five years, so it wears on him some.”

  Cassidy’s throat tightened. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t realize.”

  “We don’t really tell people. Though they ask all the time, of course.” Maisie rolled her eyes.

  “Of course they do.” Cassidy smiled. “You know, me and Chris went through all that. We couldn’t have children on our own ‘cause Chris was shootin’ blanks.”

  Maisie’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Yep. Thankfully, we found out early on, so we knew it would be impossible. We could’ve been trying for years if Mom hadn’t suggested we both go and get tested. And we were able to figure it out.”

  “I love that—and now you have three beautiful children. I see you around town with them all the time.”

  Cassidy’s heart expanded. She’d never seen this side of Maisie before. Why hadn’t she ever given the woman a chance? “Thank you. I feel blessed to have them.” Her stomach twisted into a knot. “Even though it’s hard sometimes.”

  Maisie tipped her head to one side. “I’m sure that’s true. Raising three children alone would be intense.”

  “Yeah it’s pretty wild.” It was so strange to be having such an open and vulnerable conversation with Maisie. And the strangest part about it was that it felt completely natural.

  She’d been avoiding the woman for no reason all these years, letting her imagination conjure up all kinds of judgements and criticisms that Maisie might’ve had for her. Perhaps she’d been wrong all along, and anyway, high school ended so long ago it was getting difficult to remember much about it. She’d been a different person then, so it wasn’t a stretch to believe Maisie was as well.

  “Well, I guess me and Ed will have to go and get tested. Maybe we’ll be able to figure something out too. I’d just about given up hope, and I didn’t want to go see the doctor because I thought they’d just tell me it wasn’t possible or something. Silly, right?”

  Cassidy smiled. “No, not silly. I hope it works out for you both.”

  “Thanks.” Maisie straightened and reached for her computer mouse. “Now, let’s get that house of yours listed.”

  Keep reading…

  Excerpt: Make-Believe Fiance

  Chapter One

  Some things, Heath Montgomery understood. He knew about horses, and about ranching, and how to run a business. And he understood poker. Women? Nope. But poker he got.

  He leaned forward in his chair and peered over the cards in his hand to survey the three faces staring back at him. The air stank of stale peanuts and sweat. His mouth turned up at one corner. He chuckled silently and drew in a long slow breath as his friends frowned and squinted at their own hands. Finally, he fanned his cards out on the table. “This is it, then.”

  Adam Gilston, his co-worker and best friend, lay down his hand and rolled his eyes. “You’re cruel.” He pushed the pile of chips in the middle of the table toward Heath. “Remind me why I ever thought it’d be a good idea to play poker with you?”

  Heath laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Sorry, dude, I can’t help it. I was born to win.”

  Adam punched him in the shoulder.

  “Hey!” complained Heath with a chuckle. “Sore loser.”

  “Someone’s got to bring you back to earth.”

  “Anyone need another drink?” asked Tim, holding up a pitcher of Coke with ice, his dark eyes gleaming in the dim light.

  Heath shook his head. “No thanks, I’ve had enough. It’s just about time to head home. How many hours have we been at this?”

  Heath’s kid brother Dan groaned and covered a yawn with his fist. “Too many.”

  “We’re getting too old for this,” added Adam, blinking reddened eyes as he scooped the cards into a pile.

  “But it’s tradition,” Tim insisted, stacking his chips neatly, his biceps bulging beneath the sleeves of his plain white T-shirt. Every time Tim was around, Heath made a mental note to go to the gym more often. He had a home gymnasium, but preferred the outdoors – riding a horse or roping cattle always seemed preferable to pumping iron.

  “Maybe we could come up with a new tradition,” Dan offered. He’d always played the peacemaker, even when they were young.

  “One that doesn’t involve staying awake for an entire weekend to play poker,” added Heath, rubbing his tired eyes. He pushed his chips into a drawstring bag and handed it to one of the casino staff standing against the wall. The man, dressed in a black uniform with red trim and a badge that said “RAMON – I’m here to help,” took the bag, nodded and headed for the cashier’s cage.

  “You’re all soft,” Tim huffed.

  Heath laughed. “Old and soft. That sounds about right.”

  Adam stood and stretched. “Thirty is hardly old.”

  “It feels a lot older than twenty,” said Heath. “We used to be able to stay up all night and keep rolling all day without so much as a single yawn.” He missed those days, but at the same time he was glad they were behind him. He liked a quieter life these days – his ranch suited him just fine. He reached for his Stetson and put it on with another yawn. “Let’s get some breakfast on the way back. I’m starved.” He walked to the door and pushed it open, letting the bright lights of the casino filter into the small dark room.

  Ramon returned with the bag, now full of cash. He almost ran into Heath, then took a step back and pulled out a pile of hundred-dollar bills. “Here you go, sir.”

  “Thank you.” Heath stuffed the bills into his jeans pocket as Ramon nodded and hurried off. It was surreal the way the casino always looked the same – day or night, who could tell. Patrons wandered between the tables, drinks in hand, ready to gamble their savings away.

  He frowned. There wasn’t much about the place that he liked, but he’d put up with the stale air, bright lights and piped-in music for the three men who followed him. He, Tim and Adam had become fast friends at the private high school he’d attended in San Francisco all those years ago, and they met up at least once a year ever since to play poker. His brother Dan joined the group several years ago, tagging along with Heath as he often did.

  “Hello, Heath.”

  The voice to his right made him squeeze his eyes shut for a moment. Then he turned to face the speaker, pasting a smile onto his face. “Chantelle. Fancy seeing you here.”

  She flicked her long blonde hair over one shoulder and grinned. “I get around.”

  He resisted the temptation to agree. The last thing he wanted in that moment was to have it out with his ex-girlfriend in the middle of a crowded casino on zero sleep. Instead he nodded and set his hands on his hips. “We’re just heading out. Good to see you.” He stifled a yawn and managed a farewell smile.

  But she stepped in front of him, resting a perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to go just yet, do you?”

  “It’s 7 a.m. and we’ve been up all night,” explained Tim, coming up behind him. “We’re going to grab some breakfast and hit the hay. And you are?”

  “I’m Chantelle. Pleased to meet you.” She gave Tim her most d
azzling smile.

  Heath willed his eyes not to roll. She really knew how to turn on the charm, but after dating her for six months he’d seen that charm was her only asset. Ever since they broke up, he’d done his best to steer clear of her, but she kept showing up like an unlucky penny everywhere he went. It was like she’d pinned a tracking device to him.

  Tim smiled knowingly at Heath as he shook Chantelle’s hand. “The famous Chantelle. What a pleasure.”

  Her eyes glinted. “I’m famous now, am I?”

  “In our little circle you are,” said Adam, kissing her on the cheek. “How are you doing?”

  By the time she’d greeted Dan, Heath was itching to get out of there. “Well, good to see you, Chantelle.” He spun on his heel and headed for the exit, hoping his entourage came with him.

  When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw they were following. But he also saw them smirking and grinning. Great. He knew what they were thinking – why’d he let go of Chantelle Ryan? She was beautiful, charming, accomplished – everything his parents were hoping for in a daughter-in-law.

  Which is where she’d set her sights. Never mind that he wasn’t in love with her. She didn’t care about that – she even told him so. She was happy to get married and wait for the love to come later, she’d said. Just so long as they could be together. That’s when he’d known it was over. How could he love someone so shallow, so manipulative, someone who only wanted to be Mrs. Montgomery.

  And then she’d laughed at his return to church. She not only refused to join him in his weekly attendance, but her mockery had been like a knife in the gut. How could anyone settle for someone who treated his beliefs like that? He’d rather stay single the rest of his life than marry a woman he wasn’t head-over-heels in love with, a woman who’d scorn his faith. And he hadn’t found anyone else yet – much to his family’s dismay.

  The automatic doors slid open and he walked out into the glaring sunlight. His pupils constricted and he held up a hand to shield his eyes, trying to locate the valet parking stand. He saw it to his left and headed toward it, feeling around his pocket for the ticket stub.