The TROUBLE with BILLIONAIRES: Book 2

by Kristina Blake

  “Depends. Do you have to insist on calling it a tiff?”

  Then, he was on his feet and I was in his arms, his mouth warm and more comforting than a bowl of gumbo on my lips.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered in a tortured voice as he pulled me tight into his arms.

  “No. In fact, it looks like you’re stuck with me.”

  His eyes lit up, even as his fingers discovered the growing lump on the side of my head. “I don’t know who’s stuck with whom, but I can’t imagine a better way to step into the future than with you at my side.”

  And then he kissed me again, much to the pleasure of our applauding friends.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A week later.

  I sat back on the Adirondack chair and pulled the blanket closer to my chin to block the cold breeze that was coming in from over the ocean. Madison handed me a glass of wine and settled in her own chair.

  “I told you to wear a heavy sweater.”

  “I’ll listen to you next time.”

  Conrad glanced over his shoulder at us from the grill—where he was trying to teach Rawn what a proper Texas barbecue looked like. He winked before he turned back, chastising Rawn for trying to turn the heat up on the grill.

  “I guess Annie’s excited about the photoshoot next week.”

  Madison smiled. “You would think she’d been invited to watch the filming of Nightmare on Elm Street nine thousand, or something.”

  “Do you really think she might have a chance with Logan?”

  “I think Logan is a doll for agreeing to do these ads when he’s supposed to be in Los Angeles the next day to begin filming his next big picture. As for Annie…” She hesitated. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, the rest of us have had some luck in love lately. Maybe she will too.”

  Madison cast a longing glance at Rawn and nodded. “Maybe.”

  “Ready!” Conrad announced a moment later.

  We moved into the dining room—thank goodness!—and settled down to steaks, twice-baked potatoes, and an amazing kale and spinach salad. Madison teased Rawn about avoiding his salad, suggesting an inside joke that Conrad and I weren’t privy to. But I was beginning to understand little secrets like that now that Conrad and I were spending as much time together outside of bed as in.

  “So,” Rawn said as he came back to the table after getting another bottle of wine, “you said there was something the two of you wanted to talk to us about?”

  I glanced at Conrad. This had been more his idea than mine.

  “I started to talk to you about it last week,” Conrad said, his eyes falling on me for a long, lingering moment. “It’s about Aurora.”

  “Aurora?” Madison asked, surprise clear in the tones of her voice.

  “Does this have something to do with her resigning?”

  “Resigning?” Madison asked, surprise mixed with confusion this time.

  I slid my hand over Conrad’s knee and was rewarded by his fingers intertwining with mine a second later.

  “Yes.” He leaned forward a little, a habit he often indulged in when he was nervous. “There’s something about Aurora that I’ve been helping her hide for nearly six months.” He dragged his free hand through his hair, clearing his throat and then taking a sip of wine. “I guess everyone has noticed her absentmindedness.”

  “Yeah,” Madison said. “She was always forgetting where she was supposed to be and what she was supposed to be doing.”

  “She was always like that,” Rawn added with a thoughtful frown. “But it was getting worse.”

  I nodded at Conrad, trying to offer a little encouragement.

  “Aurora has what is called familial early onset Alzheimer’s.”

  Madison gasped, and Rawn’s head tilted forward just a bit, grief a heavy weight on even his massive shoulders.

  “We thought—her parents and I—that the progression had been slowed and that, if she took her meds, she could keep it under control for months, maybe even years. But she refuses to take her medications and she wouldn’t let anyone help her.” Conrad squeezed my fingers again. “And then, just after Madison’s kidnapping, I went through her emails and discovered something.”

  This was new information for me. I watched as he stood and retrieved a sheaf of papers from the sideboard. He handed a few to Rawn, some to Madison, and one or two to me. They were emails from Aurora to someone named Ramsey234. In them, she talked about her staff, the products her department had been working on the past several years, and one even offered a rough blueprint of an accelerator Cepheus had launched just before Madison came to work there.

  “I think she thought she was corresponding with someone within the company,” Conrad said as he reached over and tapped the top of one Rawn was holding. “That’s a Cepheus email address.”

  “You think she was the inside person,” Madison said.

  “I think it’s very likely. It would explain a lot about your kidnapping and why they made so many mistakes. Their informant was just as confused as they were.”

  Rawn nodded slowly, even as he stole a glance at Madison. “It explains a lot. Especially how they confused you and Mellissa and how they thought either of you would have some of the information they were after.”

  Silence fell over them for a long few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. It was Madison who finally asked, “So what happens to Aurora now?”

  Conrad nodded toward me. “Mellissa arranged for a nurse to become her companion and to make sure she takes her meds and follows the doctor’s orders. And she’s decided to become a consultant, working with some of the same companies Cepheus has dealt with for years to help them determine the technologies they need and how to inspire scientists at companies like Cepheus to produce them.”

  “Good,” Rawn said. “The best way to combat something like Alzheimer’s is to keep the mind active.”

  “Agreed,” Conrad said.

  A minute later, Madison held up her glass. “To Aurora and the hope that someone manages to find a cure for things like Alzheimer’s and MS and Lou Gehrig’s and all those other neurological disorders that baffle the current crop of scientists.”

  “Here, here!”

  ***

  I wanted this. I had to keep reminding myself of that fact before the butterflies in my stomach caused me to turn around and rush back to the lobby and Conrad’s waiting arms.

  The guard gestured toward a table in the center of a room that could have been a cafeteria in any high school across America.

  “Someone will bring him out in a minute.”

  I sat down, tugging at the hem of my blouse. I don’t know why I cared what I looked like. He hadn’t seen me in six years. He probably wouldn’t have cared if I showed up in a potato sack.

  The idea came into my mind a few days after my ordeal with Janet—Peggy, whatever—while I was signing the papers that essentially released me from the majority of my agreement with WITSEC—including the fact that in six months’ time I had to have a job that paid well enough to cover both my own rent and Memaw’s costs at Summer Oak. I had realized that the ban on my visiting Uncle Mike had been lifted.

  “I can see him.”

  “Anytime.”

  Richard must have heard the hope in my voice because he followed that with, “I’ll arrange it as soon as possible.”

  So here I was.

  “Baby girl.”

  I turned and there he was, the same Uncle Mike I had last seen being led out of a New Orleans courtroom. He was a little thinner, much grayer, but he was still the same man.

  I didn’t know if I was allowed to touch him until he held out his arms and said, “Come here.”

  I pressed my face into his chest, and I was suddenly the little girl who once believed that there was a man living in the moon.

  He wanted to know about everything, about our time in WITSEC, the moves, my college degree, and my friends in Portland. I told him about the kidnappings and about Memaw’s conditi
on and saw the burden of guilt in his eyes. But then he washed it all away by taking my hand and telling me the one thing I had so desperately needed to hear:

  “You’ve done good, baby girl.”

  Tears filled my eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t understand all those years ago, Uncle Mike. I’m sorry I was so angry at you for so long.”

  He shook his head. “You had every right.”

  “You did it for us. I understand that now.”

  He kissed my fingers lightly. “I would have done anything for you. You are my baby girl, always was.”

  And, this time when he said it, I believed him.

  The guard came over and told us our time was about up. Uncle Mike stood and held his arms out again. As I moved into his arms, he slipped a piece of paper into my hand.

  “I couldn’t tell you about it before,” he whispered into my ear, “because if the Feds found out about it, they would have seized it. But there was a settlement with the tour company that owned the plane that killed your folks. All the money is in an account I set up in your name.”

  “But—”

  The guard took Uncle Mike’s arm and pulled him away.

  “Don’t be a stranger, baby girl.”

  “I won’t,” I promised.

  ***

  A few days later, in the safety of Conrad’s office, we used the numbers on the slip of paper my uncle had slipped me to look up the account. It was an offshore account that contained more than five million dollars.

  “Why?” I whispered, tears forming in my eyes once again. “This money could have rebuilt the bar and more. Why didn’t he use it instead of taking money from Johnny and putting all of this in motion?”

  “Because it was meant for you. And, like you keep telling me, your uncle is a good man.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Annie

  “You’re Annie, right? Madison’s roommate?”

  Oh, my God! He just said my name.

  I struggled to keep my excitement on the inside, even though my hands were shaking like leaves. I smiled softly and nodded. “Yeah, that’s me. Madison’s roommate.”

  “We met a couple of weeks ago when I stopped by—”

  “…to check on her. Yeah, me again.”

  Logan smiled at me, and my heart did a little flip.

  We were sitting in the director’s chairs that were set in a line behind what looked like a very expensive tripod and camera setup. We were waiting for Rawn to discuss a concept with the photographer for a series of pictures of Logan that were to appear in ads for the 3D telescope Rawn’s company had released almost a month ago now. Madison was with Rawn—exactly where she seemed to spend all her time these days—but there weren’t many other people around, just the photographer’s assistant and some lady who was offering everyone water or soda every five minutes.

  So, maybe he was talking to me by default. But at least he was talking to me.

  “You were at the launch party, too. I remember that red dress…it really complemented your hair.”

  I blushed. He remembered my dress! But I managed to keep my heart out of my throat when I said, “Yeah, me a third time.”

  “You’re funny. I bet you keep Madison in stitches.”

  “When she’s around.”

  He glanced over to where Madison and Rawn were still talking to the photographer. “Yeah, they seem pretty attached at the hip.”

  “Not that I’m complaining. She deserves a little happiness, what with her sister dying a few years ago and everything.”

  “Is that right?”

  I nodded. “They have a genetic type of MS, and Allison’s was really bad; it progressed so quickly the doctors couldn’t do much to help her. She died of pneumonia related to the MS.”

  Logan nodded, his gaze thoughtful as he looked over at Madison again.

  Hell, I just turned her into some sort of romantic figure…

  But then he turned back to me, his eyes lingering on my face for a long second.

  “I’m only in town for tonight. I was wondering if you thought—”

  “We should get started,” the photographer suddenly yelled. “Logan, if you’d take your place.”

  “Sorry,” he said, another soft smile slipping over his face. “Got to get to work.”

  I forced a smile and hoped it didn’t look as furious as I felt.

  Damn, damn, damn!

  Was he going to ask me out, or was he just asking for best the place to get a good burrito?

  “Okay, Logan, if you’ll lean forward a little and look through the lens of the telescope…yeah, just like that,” the photographer said, as he began to snap pictures.

  I watched as Logan moved his body in different directions, seeming to read the photographer’s mind. He was a natural at this. I read somewhere that he modeled before he got his first acting part. It was to pay his way through college, the article said. I found myself wondering what he had studied in school and why he picked acting over whatever direction his life had been moving in before that.

  So many questions I would have asked over our first date.

  Logan stretched his hands over the barrel of the telescope and leaned forward, a smile on his lips that suddenly grew stiff. And then his eyes rolled back in his head and he, the telescope, and the tripod it was sitting on all fell forward.

  “He’s seizing!”

  I rushed to his side, wondering if I should shove something in his mouth. Madison rushed over, too, calm as she turned him onto his side and began speaking to him in a comforting tone.

  “Call 911,” she said, as she caught my eye. “He needs an ambulance.”

  ~~~