Newport Billionaires Box Set

by Amy DeLuca

Dream on, bro.

  “I think she’s been staying with a friend,” he said. “Amanda and I invited her to stay with us—our kids moved out years ago—but she turned us down. Said she didn’t want to impose. She wouldn’t take a loan, either, though we offered to help her get on her feet. She insisted she didn’t want charity, though, so I put her to work. Least I could do.”

  Hunter showed up at Castle Hill Inn the next night near the end of the dinner shift—Kristal’s regular shift, according to her new employer.

  The man said she’d be closing tonight, and Hunter was determined to speak to her, even if he had to wait there until midnight to do it.

  A hostess he didn’t know greeted him. “Good evening. Welcome to Castle Hill Inn. Dinner for one?” She looked around. “Or are you meeting someone?”

  Yes, but she doesn’t know it yet. Hunter shook his head and smiled. “It’s just me.”

  The woman had already invited him to follow her and started walking toward a table when he said, “If you wouldn’t mind… could you seat me in Kristal Bianco’s section? She’s a friend.”

  The woman beamed at him. “Sure. No problem.”

  Leading Hunter to a table along the ocean-facing window in the main dining room, the hostess handed him a menu. “She’ll be right with you.”

  But when his waiter appeared, it wasn’t Kristal. Instead it was a man who greeted him and asked to take his drink order.

  Confused, Hunter asked, “Is this not Kristal’s section?”

  The waiter’s posture changed, tensing. He stood a little more erect and looked down his nose at Hunter, though his tone remained polite.

  “She has a very large party to take care of, so I’ll be serving you tonight. Are you ready to order, or should I give you some time with the menu?”

  “Oh, uh…” Hunter gave the prix fixe menu a cursory glance. “I’ll have the oysters, the grilled lobster, and the house made ice creams and sorbets.”

  “Very good, sir. And to drink?”

  “Just water.”

  So he was sitting in her section—she just wasn’t going to serve him tonight. Hunter had a sudden suspicion the “shift change” the other day hadn’t been a coincidence.

  She’s avoiding me.

  Fine. He was a patient guy. As he waited for his food and drink to arrive, Hunter perused the room, looking from table to table. None of the parties seemed inordinately large. There was one table of six, but that was it.

  Yep, she definitely asked this guy to take over for her.

  Based on the waiter’s body language, he had a crush on Kristal and was more than happy to run defense.

  She came into the room, holding two plates, which she delivered to a young couple across the room.

  All Hunter’s senses went on high alert. Kristal wore serviceable clothing—another combination of white shirt, khaki pants and flat shoes—and she looked beautiful.

  Her shiny, dark hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, revealing her high cheekbones and slender neck.

  Though he knew she’d been going through her own personal hell these past few months, she showed no sign of it, laughing at something the diners said and giving them the wide, sunny smile that had stolen his breath and warmed his soul so many times throughout their younger years.

  Kristal interacted with the other restaurant staffers in the same way, being her smiling, genuine, helpful self.

  Hunter knew, because he watched her throughout the rest of the evening. If she noticed him there, she gave no indication, never looking his way and certainly never making eye contact.

  If she’d hoped he’d get bored and leave, she didn’t know him at all. He had no trouble sitting for hours while working on a single intricate bit of code. Waiting out the dinner crowd was nothing.

  Of course, if time was money—and it was—he was wasting a fortune tonight.

  Worth it.

  When Hunter had finished the appetizer, dinner, and dessert courses, he ordered a cheese plate and a cup of coffee, lingering until all but one other table had cleared. Kristal still hadn’t even glanced in his direction.

  She’s almost as stubborn as I am. He smiled. Almost.

  His waiter, whose name was Robbie, returned. The guy’s voice this time was less polite and held a note of irritation. He darted a glance across the room at Kristal.

  “My shift is ending soon. Will that be all, sir?”

  Hunter leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers over his stomach. “It’s been delicious, Robbie, but I’m thinking of an after-dinner drink—how about a bottle of the 2014 Domaine de La Romanée-Conti, Grand Cru?”

  The French chardonnay was the most expensive thing on the wine list at six-thousand-two-hundred-and-fifty dollars a bottle.

  There was no way the waiter would refuse Hunter and kick him out—the restaurant manager would have his hide—and the guy’s tip on the wine alone would be over a thousand dollars.

  Suddenly Robbie’s demeanor changed, his valiant attempt to shield Kristal from Hunter coming to an abrupt end.

  “Very good, sir. Right away, sir.”

  As he walked away, Hunter called out. “Robbie? I intend to savor it, and I don’t want you to have to wait around. You can go ahead and bring me the bill with the bottle. I’ll settle up, and you can go home.”

  The waiter nodded and sped away toward the wine cellar. Hunter kind of felt bad for the guy.

  Kind of. He’d no doubt only been doing what Kristal had asked of him. He deserved a good tip after all the shenanigans Hunter had put him through tonight.

  But the waiter’s irritation—or jealousy—wasn’t Hunter’s chief concern. Kristal was. He’d thought about her all day today, how she’d lost her father then lost her home, how she’d gone from wealthy to basically penniless without warning.

  The only part of last night’s revelations that hadn’t shocked him was that she had turned down any offers of charity, insisting on paying her own way in the world.

  While some of the other rich kids in her social circle had been entitled, Kristal had always worked hard in school, earning a merit scholarship to college instead of relying on her father’s money to foot the bill.

  Since learning of her situation, Hunter had been wracking his brain for ways to help her. He’d even considered underwriting a large raise for her here.

  But even if the restaurant group’s owner had been willing to accept his money and funnel it to her, Kristal would be mortified if she ever learned of Hunter’s donation.

  Still, he had to do something.

  Finally, when Robbie and the rest of the staff had left, along with the last table of diners, Kristal walked over to him, giving the barely-touched bottle of wine a hard stare before meeting his eyes.

  “We’re closing.”

  “I know.”

  Her eyebrows lifted in a sardonic expression. “Would you like me to bring you a straw… or may I cork that for you, sir?”

  “I was hoping to speak with you.”

  Kristal’s shoulders stiffened, and she glanced at the exit. “It’s been a long day. My feet are tired. I’m ready to go home.”

  “Why don’t you sit down a minute?” Hunter gestured to the empty chair across from him, joking, “I’ll be happy to share my bottle of liquid gold with you. At least I hope that’s what this stuff is made of at the price they charge for it.”

  “What do you want, Hunter?” she asked bluntly, clearly not impressed with either his wine budget or his joke.

  Okay then. Cut to the chase. “I want to know why you’re avoiding me, why you’re having your co-workers take your tables whenever I come in.”

  Kristal’s cheeks colored. Her eyes flicked to the side. That’s right, sweetie. You’re busted.

  Her gaze came back to meet his, looking stronger, more determined. She lifted her chin in defiance. “I didn’t appreciate that tip you left last week at lunch.”

  “Not big enough?” Hunter quipped.

  Her tone scolded him. “You know it wa
s way too much.”

  “Listen, Kristal, it’s not that big of a deal…” He wasn’t trying to impress her this time but to make her feel better. She cut him off before he could finish.

  “I already know how well you’re doing. You don’t have to flaunt it,” she snapped.

  “Is that what you think I was doing?”

  She gave the wine bottle a significant glance. At her isn’t-it-obvious expression, Hunter changed his tone from cajoling to sincere.

  “I’m sorry it came across that way. When I saw you at the Charity Relief Ball, I admit… I did want you to know about my success.”

  He rolled his eyes in a self-deprecating way. “The wine tonight was just a ploy to keep your wanna-be boyfriend from kicking me out. But as far as that tip goes, I’m a generous tipper—sue me. It wasn’t that long ago that I was bussing tables every night and on weekends, then waiting tables all through high school and in college. It’s hard work, and so many customers leave stingy little tips—or none at all. I was trying to be nice.”

  Kristal’s whole body seemed to sag, and her face softened. “I’m sorry. I’m having a rough day—a rough month, actually.”

  Pouring several ounces of fragrant golden liquid into a wine glass, Hunter pushed it across the table toward her.

  “Maybe a couple thousand dollars’ worth of chardonnay will take the edge off. Come on. If you make me drink this all by myself, I’m going to get the world’s most expensive hangover. Or get mugged on the way home for my stomach contents.”

  She snickered. “I have always been curious about what it tastes like.”

  “Me too.”

  She slid into the chair opposite his and lifted the glass, bringing it to her nose and inhaling. “You’ve never ordered this before?”

  “Of course not. It’s ridiculously overpriced.”

  Kristal laughed, making Hunter feel like he’d won a prize. He wanted to earn more of her laughter, to see her beautiful smile.

  “I still shop at Marshall’s and look at the price tags. Old habits die hard,” he said.

  She parted with a reluctant grin. “So, the old Hunter is still in there.”

  And still just as in love with you as ever. “Always,” he said. He watched her take a sip, close her eyes and hum. “Good, huh?”

  Her eyes opened. “Yummy. Not sure it’s worth six thousand dollars, but definitely good.”

  Kristal swirled the wine around in the glass and took another sip.

  “It’s funny. My dad could afford extravagance like this, but he was never that into ‘conspicuous consumption.’ Margot was, of course, which is why I’m sitting here with you now.”

  For the first time ever, Hunter felt a flicker of gratitude toward Margot Bianco.

  “So… you gonna tell me what’s going on? Or do I have to order another bottle and stay till dawn?”

  Kristal gave him a rueful grin. After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “I’m broke.” She laughed, and the sound was a shade desperate. “It feels strange to say it out loud, but it’s true.”

  So it really was as bad as he’d heard. He’d hoped the rumors were unfounded. “Oh man, Kristal. I’m so sorry.”

  Her smile stayed in place, but her eyes watered, and she shook her head rapidly.

  “No, it’s fine. Really. I was never one of those people who needed to be rich, you know? Not like Margot. I think she’d literally rather die than be poor… or even get a job. But I like working. And I don’t really need that much—just a place to live, a way to get around…”

  She paused and sipped her wine again, licking her lips afterward before joking, “… and this six-thousand-dollar chardonnay.”

  “I want you to cork it and take the rest of the bottle home.”

  “No. I was just joking, Hunter. I wouldn’t take your liquid gold.”

  “You can share it with the friend you’re staying with. Who is it, by the way?”

  She gave him a wary glance, her earlier humor dissipating. “Heard about that, did you? It’s Cinda. Remember her from school?”

  “Cinda Brown? Yeah sure—though that’s probably not her last name anymore. I heard she had a kid.”

  “No. It’s still Brown. She’s not married.”

  Hunter had a feeling there was more to that story, but his interest at the moment was focused solely on Kristal and her financial crisis.

  “You moving in with her?” he asked.

  “Nooooo.” She smiled, dragging out the word with humor in her voice. “We get along great, but her house is tiny, and she has a four-year-old. They need their space. I’m going to get my own place as soon as I can afford it.”

  “How’s the money here?” Hunter asked sincerely.

  It was an expensive restaurant, but he hadn’t been kidding earlier when he’d mentioned stingy tippers. From what he’d seen since joining their ranks, rich people could be some of the most tightfisted.

  Kristal lifted her shoulders in a delicate shrug. “Not bad. I’m saving everything I can, but I needed transportation to get to and from work, so I spent some of my earnings on a bike.”

  He gasped. “You don’t have a car?”

  She stiffened at his appalled expression. “The one I used to drive was leased—Daddy liked for us all to drive new vehicles, thought it was safer—so he leased cars for me and Margot and himself and switched them out every year. When he had his stroke and Margot took over paying the bills… she didn’t. They repossessed it.”

  Hunter’s insides were in turmoil. She was putting on a brave face, but this had to be horrible for Kristal. He could hardly stand hearing about it. He sat forward, his brain buzzing with potential solutions for her.

  “What about getting a job in the art field? You have a masters, don’t you?”

  She nodded. “I’m surprised you knew that. Yes, and I’ve been applying, but I haven’t been able to find anything. Everybody seems to want people with technology or math-related degrees. If I’d majored in engineering, I’d be in great shape. Photography? Not so much.”

  She sighed, swirling her glass again, watching the golden liquid spin instead of drinking it. “I’m probably going to expand my search beyond Rhode Island soon, especially with the cost of rent around here. I hate to move away, but you know… you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do.”

  Looking up, she gave him a weak smile to go with the cliché.

  Panic squeezed Hunter’s temples. Leave Newport?

  He couldn’t let that happen. If Kristal moved away, they’d never get to know each other better, which meant he’d never have a chance with her. She’d create a whole new life for herself somewhere else.

  With someone else.

  A sudden thought popped out of his mouth before he’d even turned it over a couple of times for consideration.

  “Work for me.”

  Her head jerked back. “What?”

  “Yes. Doing photography. We need someone to take photos for our website, publicity stuff.”

  Honestly Hunter and his partners had never discussed publicity shots, but they might need some at some point, right? He could certainly find something for her to do.

  Kristal’s forehead creased as she stared at him. “I don’t need your charity. I told you before—”

  “It’s not charity. It’s work. You’re a photographer. We need photographs.”

  “Hunter.” Her arms folded in front of her as she shook her head back and forth. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but there’s no way you need a full-time photographer on staff at a software company. Anyway, I don’t do that kind of photography. I’m an art photographer. I shoot landscapes. I’ll just keep looking. Something will turn up somewhere.”

  Somewhere. Possibly out of state. She had no living family here now. An out-of-state move would mean Hunter might never even see her again.

  “You know…” A new idea percolated inside him. A new approach. “There is a way you could help me.”

  “What do you mean?”

 
; “You could move in with me.”

  Seven

  Snow White

  “Excuse me?”

  Either the wine had gone to Kristal’s head in record time and she was hallucinating, or Hunter Bestia had just made her an indecent proposal.

  He kept going, speaking in his deep, matter-of-fact voice. “You said there’s not enough room at Cinda’s place. My house is huge—way more space than I need. You could move in, stay as long as you want—rent free.”

  Flames of indignation licked at her skin. “I’m not going to be your mistress!”

  Hunter’s dark eyebrows shot up. He raised both hands in front of him in a Whoa there gesture.

  “No, not like that.” He laughed. “I live there with six other guys. And before you make assumptions, I’m not proposing a reverse harem situation either.”

  “I don’t even know what that is.”

  He swept a hand through the air as if erasing his last words. “Forget I mentioned it. Anyway, the mansion is divided into five condos. Each one has several bedrooms. We’ve got tons of extra space. You could live there, keep your job here while you look for something else… and you could keep taking your photographs around Newport.”

  Most of those things sounded great, but Kristal still wasn’t clear on the living arrangements—or why he’d make the offer.

  “With all of you guys there and how well Chipp is doing, you can’t possibly need help to pay the rent.”

  He lifted a finger. “I already said you wouldn’t have to pay anything.”

  “Right. So, what’s the benefit to you of having me move in? I don’t get it. How would I be helping you?”

  He held her gaze, and a few beats passed before he answered. “Well… here’s the thing… one of my housemates—Hap Bailey, remember him? He was the president of the drama club.”

  Kristal nodded and he went on. “He’s not part of Chipp. He’s living there while he gets his own company off the ground. He’s a director and producer now—he’s actually had a couple projects, a documentary and a short film, do very well.”

  “That’s cool. I remember he acted as a kid—his sister Jessica too, right?”