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

by Marcella Swann

  “It was.” Faith decided to change the subject. “My parents gave me their house, and I’ve been happy there ever since. Marie lived in New York for a time but then she came back and married Jack Paulson. They’ve got three kids now, and she’s due to have their fourth in December.”

  “Good for them.”

  Tristan suddenly paused, holding onto Lucy’s leash and staring at the large old house he’d grown up in. Faith watched his reaction. His expression was serious, and maybe a little angry. She let him have his moment to stare at the old place.

  But it didn’t last very long, before he abruptly turned around and started back towards Faith’s house. She decided not to push him on it. Maybe if she’d had such a disappointing childhood, she wouldn’t have wanted to come back to Chelsea, either.

  For the first time, she realized how grateful she was to have a loving home to grow up in. Her parents doted on each other and treated both their daughters really well. She’d been best friends with her mom, and she was still close with Marie. But Tristan didn’t have any of that. As an only child, he’d been caught between two parents who disappointed and disliked each other.

  “Man, I am glad I left Chelsea,” Tristan said abruptly. “But the people in New York are really different. They’re just looking to climb the next step on the career ladder, you know? Everything’s a trophy, from salaries to homes to wives. It’s all about what you’ve got and what you’re willing to do to get more.”

  “It doesn’t sound like those people are content with their lives, Tristan.”

  “It’s exciting to strive for something more than what you’ve got. Normal is boring.”

  “Boring? Normal is cozy, fulfilling, and comfortable. At least to me. I’d rather have a home-cooked dinner with my sister than eat the finest meal in New York.”

  “Good for you, I guess.” He shrugged. “I’ve been super bored in Chelsea. Not much to do.”

  Not compared to New York, Faith thought. Nothing competitive here, unless he wanted to own the best farm in town or become the CEO of a long-established family business.

  Well, Tristan wouldn’t be here very long. He’d give Van Doren its little makeover upgrade, and then head back to the exciting city. In less than two weeks, their lives would once again separate. She prayed it would be that way. And when he left, it would be for good. Faith couldn’t see herself going to New York, and Tristan sure wouldn’t come back here.

  They got back to Faith’s house and paused in the driveway in front of Tristan’s van. Lucy had such stubby legs that even a short walk tired her out. She plopped down at her mom’s feet and promptly began snoozing. Tristan found that funny.

  “Say, Tristan? Does your mom still have that big record collection of classic rock?” Faith asked.

  “She sure does,” he said. “She even invited me to her house to listen to it.”

  “I think you should take her up on her offer. She’s missed you all these years.”

  Faith wanted to admit that she’d missed him, too, but she decided not to. He’d probably laugh at her and accuse her of being corny or sentimental.

  Tristan opened the van’s driver side door. “I’ll consider it. My projects at Van Doren will keep both of us busy.”

  “I’m definitely going to be involved with every part of this upgrade,” she insisted. “I’ll keep my eye on you, Tristan Booker.”

  “I hope you do, Faith. You’re great at your job.” He looked directly at her. “Good night.”

  “Night.”

  For a long moment, they stood across from each other in her driveway. Something stirred inside Faith, something she thought had disappeared so long ago. It made her stomach feel funny.

  But then he broke eye contact and got in the van. Faith sighed. She had been so prepared to fight him about Van Doren. Now, it seemed, they’d be working together on this upgrading project.

  Some part of her, a part she tried to squash down, was really looking forward to it.

  It was bright and early the next morning when Tristan in his brand-new blue van pulled up to Van Doren. Ricky followed behind him in a red truck. No sooner had both guys gotten out, when an entire entourage of new vehicles started rumbling into the parking lot. The commotion caught the attention of pretty much everyone who worked at Van Doren. All the workers came outside to see what was going on.

  About fifteen new vehicles had arrived, all thanks to Ricky’s hard work spent on the phone the previous day. Contractors, builders, plumbers, electricians, HVAC technicians, and HVAC workers had all shown up to help upgrade Van Doren.

  Cubby had a large table cleared and moved outside into the sunshine. Tristan spread out his building plans and gathered everybody around to see what he had in store for the 110-year-old building. Faith was there too, right by his side, her clipboard in hand while she gathered the names and contact information of all the contractors. Tristan had come up with a detailed, step by step plan that worked to put her mind at ease about this whole operation.

  “And this will all be done by Friday, October fifth.” Tristan finished his explanation of their plan. “Any questions?”

  There were dozens of people assembled, but he looked right at Faith. He waited for her to finish doing her paperwork and then make eye contact with him.

  “I’ll bet you at least have one concern,” he prompted.

  “I do,” she admitted. “I want to make sure that our regular operations schedule continues as planned. We’ve got deadlines to meet before the month is over.”

  “Have a little faith in me.” He smiled at his own joke on her name. “Mr. Ellesmere and I have no desire to intrude on your business production. And if so, everybody will be well-compensated.”

  That brought a positive reaction from the Van Doren workers. For Tristan, it was a low cost of doing business. He could float the company a little cash to meet its September numbers, then make it all back when he sold it off to a new buyer. Reassuring Faith’s needless worries and concerns wasn’t a part of this he liked, but he was determined to gain her trust. Only then would she sell him her beloved company.

  Why did she have to bring up his dad last night? Things were going so well. He honestly didn’t even mind that her dog peed on him. Faith shouldn’t stick her nose in his private business. He didn’t like walking by his old house, and he certainly didn’t like thinking about his dad. Ever. If this trip back to Chelsea got under his skin, he wouldn’t be able to focus on taking Van Doren down.

  Never mind how beautiful she’d looked last night walking beside him under the streetlamp glow.

  Never mind that the thought of kissing her in the middle of one of her speeches crossed his mind at least once

  Focus, Tristan. It’s all about getting this upgrade done as fast as possible. To do that, he needed Faith to work with him.

  With the morning meeting ended, Ricky and Cubby took over supervising the contractors. They headed into the Van Doren building to begin making their physical measurements.

  Meanwhile, Tristan and Faith started going through an equipment inventory of everything that needed to be upgraded. Tristan was prepared for a long list, and there certainly was one. New computers, printers, photocopiers, scanners, cutting machines, and a whole bunch of sewing implements.

  “Haven’t had anything new in 110 years, huh?” he joked.

  “Seems like it. Well, we’ll start at the top. Here’s the model numbers.”

  One by one, he went through the list with his iPad, tapping on plenty of “Add to Cart” buttons until he’d finally purchased everything to Faith’s specifications.

  “Upgrading is certainly fun when you can afford it,” Faith said.

  “Having lots of money can be really fun. I can pay for what I want, whenever I want it.”

  “Hmmm.”

  She didn’t seem impressed. What did Tristan have to do to get this girl to notice his accomplishments? Bend over backwards and juggle knives with his eyes closed? Sheesh.

  But as they spent m
ore time together, she was the one impressing him. The contractors would come up to her with questions, and she’d answer them immediately. She directed the electricians where to go, she knew the location of all the more intricate technical stuff, and she even helped Cubby fix his computer. Tristan was inspired to step up his own leadership game. They worked really well together, which reminded him of the times they’d spent doing school projects so many years ago. Side by side, their two heads were definitely better than one.

  When yet one more contractor came up to ask Tristan a question, he deferred it to Faith.

  “Ask Miss Gilchrist,” he said. “She knows this place better than I do.”

  “Why, thank you, Mr. Booker.” She turned to the man and not only answered his question, but told him the exact financial specifics, too.

  “Excellent job,” Tristan praised her after the guy moved off. “You impress me.”

  “Glad I’m giving a good impression.” She winked at him.

  Score another for Tris! She actually flirted back. It wasn’t just his imagination. He was seriously winning this girl over. At this rate, he’d be well inside his two-week deadline and be five million richer thanks to Ricky’s bet. He was grinning from ear to ear as the morning ended and everyone broke for lunch.

  Marie Paulson, Faith’s sister, arrived at the factory. She brought her three rambunctious kids and an entire minivan full of homemade turkey club sandwiches, potato chips, and apple cider. Jack helped distribute the meals, and Tristan liked seeing Faith greet her sister warmly. They really were close. He’d just grabbed his own paper plate of food, when he saw Ricky beckoning him over.

  “Yo man, what’s up?” Tristan asked.

  Ricky frowned, tucking his iPhone back in his pocket. “Kristen has been trying to reach you all day. Something’s come up. It’s got to do with that Eastman Foods deal.”

  “What? That’s sold and paid for, Ricky.”

  “We thought so. But now Mr. Eastman’s daughter Rebecca is stirring things up. You’ve got to go back to New York and fix it.”

  Tristan glanced over at Faith. She was relaxing in the sunshine, eating her lunch and laughing with her sister. Not the ideal time for this snafu to happen. Of course, since it was his signature on the paperwork and his deal, he should go himself. But he didn’t want to. After thinking it over for a minute, he turned back to Ricky.

  “Let me take over everything here at Van Doren. I want you to go back to New York and straighten this deal out.”

  “It would look better if you went. It was a Booker Firm deal, Tris.”

  “Yeah, and you’re my partner. I’ve got your back. However you handle it, is good for me.”

  Ricky had never let him down once. In fact, come to think of it, Tristan had often thought Ricky was more of a Wall Street game player than he was. He did grow up in that cutthroat Manhattan world, after all.

  Ricky had a couple more protests, which he voiced just as Faith was walking over. But in a few minutes, Tristan finished addressing all of his friend’s concerns and sent Ricky driving away from Van Doren to head back to New York immediately.

  “What was that all about?” Faith asked.

  “Eh. New York business. Ricky thought I should return to the Booker Firm. It normally helps to have me there to handle client problems, but Ricky can do it.”

  “Oh. What kind of problems?”

  “Just the usual. Aren’t you the COO of this business? I’m sure you’re called upon to handle day to day stuff, too.”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, there you go. Same thing.” Tristan knew he’d spend the rest of the day working on the renovations with Faith, but he still wanted more time with her. He was troubled to admit this was one of the big reasons he didn’t want to go back to New York. Faith was here, not there. That was part of the plan, he told himself. It was just part of this deal. Only when he got her to open up could he find a weakness in her and use that to gain her trust. “Say, Faith?”

  “Yeah, what?”

  “I was thinking about what you said, about spending more time with my mother. Every night she goes to Floyd’s bar downtown. Wanna go with me?”

  Her brow furrowed. “I’m not sure, Tristan. I don’t go out drinking on weeknights.”

  “Maybe you should,” drawled a familiar voice. Cubby had sauntered over. “Floyd’s got a great band. I’m sure you’ll be here in the morning, early as usual.”

  “Cubby,” Faith scolded. “You shouldn’t be encouraging me to not put Van Doren first.”

  “Oh, no danger of that. You work harder than I do, and it’s my company.” He chuckled. “Take Mr. Booker’s offer and enjoy yourself.”

  Tristan grinned. He smiled even wider when Faith eventually mumbled that she would go with him at seven that night. Having Cubby’s go ahead sealed the deal, which was an unexpected bonus Tristan didn’t see coming. Faith was such a workaholic, she hardly ever had any fun!

  He’d do everything he could to make sure she did this time.

  Chapter 9

  “Lucy! You’re not helping, little girl.”

  Faith snatched the plaid shirt out of her dog’s mouth and tossed it on the bed. It landed on top of the dozen other pieces of clothing she’d yanked out of her closet and tried on. Nothing looked good. She felt so many mixed emotions about this . . . this . . . whatever it was. It wasn’t a date, it wasn’t dinner, and it wasn’t even having drinks with a friend. She wasn’t friends with Tristan Booker! He definitely saw it as a date, though. He’d been asking her out for three days, and now she’d said yes. It was only because Cubby was standing right there.

  At least, that’s what she told herself.

  But deep down, she was kind of freaking out. Her day with Tristan had gone so much better than she expected. They worked well together. When they’d finally gotten on the same page, they’d both stepped up to the plate and been great leaders. Tristan had not been as arrogant, either. She knew it was all an act, but still… She noticed, and wished it was real.

  After much hemming and hawing and Lucy’s snorts added in the background as doggy commentary, Faith finally chose an outfit that conveyed the message she wanted:

  Yeah, I put thought into this, because I want to look good, but not good enough that you think I’m ready to take this even one teeny, tiny, miniscule step forward.

  She wore a fitted blue Henley top that matched her eyes, slim dark jeans, tall brown boots, and a plaid scarf with some blue and beige colors running through it. Her hair looked good, too, lovely and blond and in loose waves.

  She already had her keys out while walking to her parked truck, when headlights flashed in the night. Tristan’s giant, sleek black limo eased into her driveway. Oh, no way! That was just too much. The driver got out, opened the backseat limo door for her, and tried to coax her in.

  “No thanks,” she said, laughing. “I’m going to take old Betsy here.”

  Tristan wasn’t going to win her over with his money, no matter how much of it he had. Nice try! Still laughing, she shook her head and got up into her old truck. For half a second, she reminisced about driving that gorgeous new blue van yesterday to Kalamazoo. Maybe she could get an upgraded model. That one had been nice to drive.

  As soon as she got within sight of Floyd’s bar, she spotted Tristan. He was outside on the sidewalk, on the phone as usual. He immediately took it away from his ear when he saw her pull up and ease into an on-street parking space. She got out of the truck and awkwardly walked up to him. Don’t overthink it, girl. You always do that.

  “Evening, Faith,” he said.

  “Hi there.”

  “You didn’t take the limo.”

  “Nope.”

  Gosh, it was hard to form a coherent thought when he was looking the way he was. She promised herself he wouldn’t win her over, but damn, he was so hot. He dazzled her every time he smiled, too. There was no other word for it, though it sounded so cheesy. He really was dazzling.

  “Well, you do lik
e to drive.” There was that smile again. Damn it. “How about we head in?”

  As soon as he’d followed her into the bar, the whole place erupted in cheers. Most of the patrons lifted their glasses for Tristan. Confused, Faith asked a nearby man why they were cheering.

  “He’s bought all the rounds tonight!”

  So, Tristan arrived early enough that he could afford to treat everyone. It was a pretty nice gesture.

  He made a brief trip to the bar to get drinks for them both, and then led them up to a booth in the back that was near the stage. Floyd and his band members tuned their guitars and warmed up, while the lighting guys adjusted the multicolored stage lights. Faith sipped her beer, feeling more relaxed by the second. They’d only been seated a few minutes when Wanda Booker came right over.

  “My, my!” she exclaimed, her feathered earrings dangling as she shook her head. “Tris, you’re here.”

  “Hey, Mom.” He raised his beer. “We came to hear Floyd play.”

  “Groovy.” Wanda smiled. “Hey Faith, good to see you.”

  “You, too, Wanda.”

  “Never thought I’d see you two together at my husband’s bar. What a sight!”

  “Well, we’re here. We’re actually working together, to upgrade Van Doren.”

  “Really?” Wanda looked at Faith. “Now I trust you, honey. Is that the truth?”

  Faith nodded. “It is, actually.”

  “Well, I’ll have to tell Floyd he lost his bet. He thought you two would never hang out again.”

  Both Faith and Tristan laughed. Wanda kissed her son on the forehead, then sauntered back over to her own table with her friends, up close to the stage. Faith had liked seeing her again. Wanda had a big heart, a quirky hippie personality, and an ease about her own self that made her fun to be around. She was who she was and didn’t try to be anything else. Faith knew herself, too, but she often put more of an emphasis on the greater good that the group wanted, rather than her own individual needs. Well, at least she didn’t need much in life to be happy. Right?