Rekindled: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance (Lost Love Book 3)

by Marcella Swann

  A minivan pulled up in the driveway and shut the lights off. Marie got out, bearing two bottles of delicious beverages for them to drink — wine for Faith and sparkling grape juice for herself. Faith hugged her sister.

  “So good to see you. Thanks for coming!”

  Marie and Faith made their way towards Faith’s backyard, where she’d set up the fire pit earlier that evening. She also had homemade corn muffins she’d baked that afternoon. Marie came over every Sunday night, and the two sisters would relax and chat, giving Marie a break from her funny kids.

  Faith handed Marie her glass of grape juice and had just got settled in her chair in front of the fire, when Marie immediately started talking about the one subject Faith wasn’t interested in:

  Tristan.

  “He was there! At the café! He didn’t even talk to me. He acted like I was a pariah.” Marie sipped her juice. “Scooted out of there just as fast as he could.”

  Faith rubbed her temples. “Why did he have to come back here? It’s too complicated.”

  “Tell me about it. Oh, and then I overheard him talking to Wanda outside the cafe, and he’s busy with some project here. He’s a billionaire Wall Street trader and broker. What project could he be busy with in Chelsea? Faith, you have got to find out.”

  “Me? Are you kidding? He dumped me, Marie. The worst way I could ever get dumped. He just piled a bunch of excuses on me and then split after high school. There’s been no word, no phone call, no nothing. I can’t stand the guy.”

  “Did you catch him on the news last night? God, he looked hot.”

  Faith sipped her wine. “I don’t care that he looks like Tom Cruise’s twin brother. He shouldn’t be here. The sooner he’s gone, the better.”

  “But he’s hot!”

  Faith laughed. “Marie, you’re funny. Did you hear how he treated Wyatt at the antiques show yesterday?”

  “No! Tell me.” After Faith filled her in on the details, Marie shook her head disapprovingly. “What a jerk. Even though you might want to bring up all the gory details of your past together, that’s not the right way to go about this. You should also patch things up with Wyatt.”

  “Maybe.” Faith swirled her wine. “I like Wyatt, but there isn’t that spark, you know? He’s more like a friend. My type of guy would be hot, yeah, but also have a good personality.”

  “Don’t forget smart,” Marie pointed out. “You’re a COO, Faith. No average country bumpkin will do.”

  “I do like the brainy guys.”

  “Then what are you doing in Chelsea?”

  Faith rolled her eyes. “I live here! I love my job, I get along so well with Cubby, and Van Doren is an amazing company.”

  “Then, is it worth it to not have somebody?”

  Faith wasn’t sure. She had a great life, the kind of comfort, stability, and solid relationships many would love to have.

  But she was by herself, and that came with its own sense of dissatisfaction. Nobody to share her great life with. It didn’t matter as much five years ago, but she was thirty now. There was something to be said about getting older and still being alone.

  Marie was pregnant and feeling a bit more tired than usual, so she headed out early. Faith put out the fire, finished up her wine, and took Lucy upstairs to snuggle in bed. With the bulldog snoring at her feet, Faith took out her smartphone to scroll through the news of the day. She felt a bit jittery and odd about going back to work at Van Doren tomorrow. With Tristan in the same zip code, it felt like the air was electrically charged. He was hot. He looked amazing on TV last night.

  She Googled his name on her phone. Picture after picture popped up, each one from a famous media source like the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, New York Magazine, or Entertainment Weekly. His Booker Firm made headlines when he started it with his partner, Ricky Ellesmere, and he’d been the hot shot ever since. Faith also read about his tabloid exploits, including his short-lived relationships with very pretty and successful women.

  Faith turned off her phone. She wanted to talk to him. She had to admit she couldn’t stay away from him, now that he was here.

  She just had to be prepared with something to say.

  Chapter 4

  Finally! Tristan was so excited to go to Van Doren, he’d been up since five in the morning. He looked impeccable: gorgeous tailored gray suit, polished shoes, and sunglasses on. Now, he’d really get to show this little town how real men in the big city did things. He’d knock ‘em dead.

  Seated next to him in the limo, Ricky was on the phone gabbing to his girlfriend Theresa about the huge cache of antique furniture on its way to New York City for his penthouse loft. Somewhere in the middle of that conversation, Tristan’s phone rang. It was his personal assistant calling.

  “Yo Kristen, what’s up?”

  “Good morning, Mr. Booker. I’m calling to inform you that Walmart has accepted your purchase price. The funds from the Eastman Foods company have been deposited. I’ll send the numbers over.”

  “Sweet!”

  Tristan hung up and showed Ricky the numbers on the iPad. Oh, that was such good news. A cool new half billion for his firm, and a big chunk of that was going right into his personal account. The two friends high-fived. Damn right.

  “Is this it?” Ricky asked as the limo pulled into the Van Doren parking lot. “It’s really old.”

  “Yep. This is going to be our easiest job yet, Ricky.”

  The limo parked, and the two men got out to have a better look at the Van Doren plant. He’d come here many times when his own father worked here . . . but he refused to let the past spoil this new mission.

  The building itself resembled an old warehouse, and its curvy script logo hadn’t been replaced. Tristan couldn’t wait to see the whole thing razed. It looked even shabbier than he remembered. The parking lot was filled with older model Ford trucks and SUVs.

  “Tris, we’re not going to get any money out of this. It’s a dump.”

  “Trust me, I’ll get as much as I can. These people have never seen the kind of money I bring to the table.” Tristan clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Let’s head in.”

  Inside Van Doren it was a busy Monday morning, and that’s just how Faith and Cubby liked it. They were both on the factory floor chatting with the workers about their weekends as the day’s hustle and bustle got started. Faith had brought corn muffins, which she handed out to anyone who wanted one. Most everyone did. Her baking skills were legendary.

  Jack Paulson was unpacking boxes of fabric and thread for the upholstery orders. Behind him, more workers cut the upholstery fabric into giant shaped pieces. Others sewed the fabric pieces together on enormous industrial sewing machines. Huge cast iron lamps provided plenty of light, while the casement windows were open to let in the mild autumn breeze. There was a pleasant hum coming from the overlapping machinery sounds, and the factory smelled like wood shavings, turpentine, and morning coffee. Faith still had her mind on the numbers for September. They’d be okay as long as no major catastrophes occurred.

  In any case, everything seemed to be going smoothly. Faith had just handed out the last of her corn muffins when the front door opened. That was unusual. She was just thinking maybe she forgot a scheduled meeting.

  And in walked Tristan Booker.

  Right here.

  Standing in her place of work.

  He immediately saw her and stopped, his eyes hidden behind designer shades, arms folded. He planted his feet right there on the floorboards and straightened his posture, looking for all the world like he owned the place. Her place. Faith had no time to come up with anything to say before a second man came behind Tristan, removing his sunglasses and looking around with contempt at the Van Doren factory floor. She recognized Ricky Ellesmere from the Google search she’d done on Tristan last night.

  Faith frowned. How dare they barge in here today and judge her company. She knew she’d bump into Tristan somewhere in town at some point. But she had no idea he’d c
ome here. Her first instinct was to shoo him out, like a pesky fly. The sudden arrival also caught Cubby’s attention, who came over to stand by Faith’s side.

  And that’s how they met — the four of them right on the factory floor in front of Cubby and Faith’s shared office, like a Wild West standoff. Tristan arrogantly surveyed the place, nose in the air, before turning to Cubby and launching into his spiel.

  “Good morning, Mr. Brennan. It’s Tristan Booker, of the Wall Street Booker Firm. My partner here is Ricky Ellesmere. I’ve come to meet with you about securing Van Doren’s future. Is this your office right here? Good. Let’s head in.”

  What the . . . ?

  Faith couldn’t believe the garbage he was spewing. The whole time he talked, she noticed he wasn’t looking at her at all. Just as well. Standing in such close proximity for the first time in twelve years was disarming, to say the least. Not just because he was ten times more handsome in person than on her kitchen TV screen. He carried himself with such a sense of superiority and take-charge attitude, and it was simultaneously a turn-off and an intriguing turn-on. Like riding a roller coaster.

  Her knees felt slightly weak.

  Her mind went blank at the same time. Her silence frustrated her. She couldn’t think of anything to say. Not good. Not good at all. That was the first step toward him gaining the upper hand in this . . . whatever this madness was about, and she couldn’t have that.

  “You saying you want a meeting?” Cubby, for his part, was composed and collected. He even managed to look amused. Good old Cubby. “Sorry, can’t help you there. I’ve got Monday orders to fill. My chief operating officer, Faith Gilchrist, can help you.”

  So much for counting on him.

  “Cubby.” Faith looked at her boss. He couldn’t possibly be suggesting what she thought.

  “I insist. Take the city boys in the office.”

  Faith’s eyes went to Tristan. Because of his sunglasses, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She gripped her clipboard, uttered an order to follow her, and clicked her boot heels across the floor to her office.

  Once inside, she firmly shut the door behind the two men and prepared to meet them head-on. Whatever they wanted from Van Doren, they’d have to go through her first. As Tristan pulled his smartphone out of his pocket, she scrutinized them both.

  “You get ten minutes to tell me why you’re here, Mr. Booker and Mr. Ellesmere. After that, I want you off the premises.”

  “Ten minutes? I can tell you in five.” Tristan waved the smartphone casually. “It just so happens I have my personal accountant on the phone. My partner and I are ready right here, right now, to buy Van Doren. Name your price.”

  What?! Never in a million years did she ever ever EVER think she’d see Tristan again, let alone have him waltz into her office and drop this bombshell. That was just . . . impossibly arrogant of him. The more she thought about it, the more stupid it sounded.

  So, she laughed right in his face.

  “That’s a good one,” she said between chuckles. “I don’t accept, and I’ll show you the door.”

  “I mean it,” Tristan countered. “About the price. How about we start the wagering at fifty million?”

  “You have to be joking. Absolutely not.”

  “Seventy-five?”

  “Are you deaf?” she asked. “I said no.”

  “I’m not deaf, just rich.” Tristan grinned, and Faith had to admit, he kind of dazzled her when he smiled that way. “I have no problem pushing it to one hundred million.”

  “And I have no problem throwing you two gentlemen out.”

  “Tristan, you’re wagering too low,” Ricky cut in. “This is an old company, probably worth a lot to its owners. Go higher.”

  “You can go as high as the moon for all I care,” Faith snapped. “The answer will always be no.”

  “Then I will come back with higher offers.” Tristan shrugged casually. “I don’t give up.”

  “Well, nice to see you’re trying something new,” Faith snapped. “But it’s a waste of your time, Mr. Booker.”

  He leaned towards her. “Not going to call me Tristan? You used to all the time. Remember?”

  Faith didn’t like him standing so close to her. As if he assumed his stupidly handsome face and stupidly handsome grin were going to just give him all he ever wanted in life. Maybe it had worked with other companies, but not Van Doren. Van Doren was all Faith had in life, and she wasn’t about to let him have it.

  “Thank you both for coming,” she said through gritted teeth, “but Van Doren will never be for sale.”

  The door opened and Cubby came in. Faith wasted no time telling him why her ex-boyfriend had showed up in Chelsea after all these years.

  “Goodness, sonny. You came all the way from the big city to do that?”

  “I assure you, Mr. Brennan, that Van Doren Seating Company will live on in the hearts and minds of all those who’ve resided in Chelsea. We can even make arrangements to keep on, well, a certain number of your employees. Now, how about you and I arrange that meeting right now, to discuss your company’s future?”

  “Not worth your while. You already had a meeting with my right hand. Her word’s as good as mine. You have yourself a good day now.”

  Faith smiled triumphantly. She felt so proud of Cubby for shutting Tristan right down. Tristan opened his mouth to protest, but decided better of it and closed his lips. He prepared to stomp out of the office and if she was lucky, Faith thought, out of her life. This time for good.

  As he passed by Faith’s desk on his way to the door, Faith heard a doggy grumble coming from underneath her desk. Pretty soon, the funny fat little bulldog had waddled her way out to investigate. The second Lucy saw Tristan, she broke into a doggy grin and rushed right towards him, stub of a tail wagging.

  “What the — ?” Tristan asked. Suddenly, this very affectionate and very slobbery creature was pawing at his pant legs and pushing her giant head up against his calves.

  “Lucy!” Faith scolded. “Lucy, get down.”

  “Your dog, huh?” Tristan leaned down and ruffled the dog’s soft ears. “Now, that’s a cute bulldog.”

  “Stop that, Mr. Booker. Lucy, come here!”

  Faith grabbed her dog’s collar and finally succeeded in getting her away from Tristan, who wasn’t helping at all by petting the top of her head. Ricky kept out of the way of Lucy entirely, preferring not to get slobber on his expensive suit.

  By the time the two New York men left the office, Faith was coaxing Lucy to go back to sleep under her desk. She wiped dog slobber off her hands, her heart racing.

  Now she knew why Tristan was back in town.

  To buy Van Doren and take away everything she loved in life.

  Chapter 5

  It took a long time for Faith to compose herself at her desk, and try to get back to work. Lucy was nibbling on her toes and her thoughts were all jumbled up inside her head. On the phone with a supervisor at the Ford Company in Dearborn, she got her numbers all mixed up and had to call the poor guy back twice. That was so unlike Faith she hardly recognized herself.

  She was flustered and frazzled in the worst way. Not only had she been caught off guard by Tristan’s ridiculous offer, but she’d been struck by how gorgeous he was in person. He’d been a handsome teenager when they dated in high school, but now his looks were off the charts.

  Damn it, damn it, damn it.

  After less than an hour, Faith had worked herself up so much she persuaded Cubby to come back into the office to talk about it. She shut the door behind him.

  “Cubby, this is bad. That Booker Firm those guys work for is ruthless. I read all about them last night. They’ll stop at nothing to take over this company. No price is too high. They’ll hire top New York lawyers. This is just so bad!”

  “Hey now,” Cubby said soothingly. He leaned against his old desk, folding his arms over his plaid flannel shirt. “Those boys were barking up the wrong tree, Faith. I’m not selling Va
n Doren. Now that that old boy’s gone and made himself some money, he’s trying to big time us little people. But we do things differently out here. I guess he forgot.”

  “I just don’t want to lose Van Doren,” Faith said. “Plus, our employees losing their jobs. It would be devastating.”

  “We’ve been here for darn near a century and will be here a hundred more.” He smiled gently. “Now, you get on back to doing what you do best and forget this city fellow. They show up again, I’ll definitely be speaking my mind.”

  Faith sighed. “Thank you, Cubby. I’ll see you later.”

  Her boss headed back out on the factory floor. Faith sat back down heavily at her desk. She stared at her old computer screen and the cursor blinking. Tristan caught her off guard once, and she wouldn’t give him the chance to do that again. She’d put together a plan before he came back. He wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted, unless she showed him she wasn’t that same teenage girl that he could just wrap around his little finger and dump when he was good and ready.

  Time for her to step up her own game.

  “Dude, you didn’t tell me your ex was that hot.”

  “Shut up, Ricky.”

  “No seriously, man. Like hot, in that farm girl way.”

  Tristan wished Ricky would just drop this. “Not as hot as Janna the photographer.”

  But even as Tristan said it, he wasn’t convinced it was true. Seeing Faith that morning threw him for a loop. All the beautiful things about her as a teenager had fully matured and now she was a stunning woman. Under her blazer, tight jeans, and leather boots, he could tell she had a hot body. Oh, and the way she’d stood up to him? Made her even hotter. He’d forgotten how smart she was. What a challenge to tackle…