The Billionaire's Club: Secret Billionaire’s Club Book Six

by Tracey Pedersen

  “That’s a huge deal,” Tina says. “You gave it up to come here?”

  “I didn’t have anything to wear, anyway.”

  Tina laughs. “That is no reason to skip a big event like that. I wonder what you have to do to get your hands on one of those invites.” She sighs and looks at the ceiling. “That party is massive. It’ll be all over the internet.” She reaches for her bag and pulls out her phone. “Let’s see if there’s any pictures yet.” Her finger flies over her screen, then she nods and turns her phone around. “Wow, It’s everywhere. All the top searches are for this year’s event.”

  Kendra, and Jillian move closer and we all peer at Tina’s screen.

  “This is so dumb,” Kendra says. “We all have phones. We could just look at our own.”

  “Not me. My phone might as well be a brick. I’ll need to buy an Australian sim.” Cole promised we’d sort it out once he’d seen Merek. There’s probably no need. We won’t be here long enough to need one.

  “It’s more fun like this.” Jillian laughs and point at the screen. “What on earth is she wearing?”

  “Cole’s assistant bought a silver dress. I wonder if there’s any photos of it.” I lean forward as Tina flicks through the photos. Part of me feels a little forlorn that I didn’t get to be there in person. It was never my invitation, though. I was the lucky one Cole chose to accompany him.

  “What’s her name? Let’s do a search.” Tina goes back to the search page, her finger poised.

  “Um, Patty Piper.”

  Tina’s fingers fly again and then she chooses the first item in the search results. “Is that her?”

  I lean forward. “Nope. She’s a singer. I forget her name.”

  We go back to the search results and Tina chooses the next one. A gorgeous image fills the screen and there’s Patty grinning at the camera and pointing her finger right at it.

  “That’s the one.” I laugh and shake my head. “I swear that pose is for Cole.” I examine the photo again, and my tone turns wistful. “She looks so happy.”

  “I’d be happy too if I was Cinderella and had been invited to a ball like that,” Jessa says.

  “Look, Cole is mentioned as her boss.” Tina clicks on a link at the bottom. and an online magazine story opens. Each of the women read the headline, then Kendra and I groan at the same time.

  “Oh, damn,” I sigh. “How did they get that so fast?”

  “They’re vultures, that’s how.” Tina spits the words out, as though she has first-hand experience with the media. “Someone probably saw you at the airport together. Even if it weren’t true, they still would have printed it.”

  “It’s not so bad,” Jessa says. “There’s nothing really sordid about it. It just says you two left the movie set abruptly together, and then left the country. It reads like they don’t know where you went. Or why.”

  Tina growls deep in her throat. “Oh, great. Now they’ve made it into a chase. You’ll have people following you everywhere.”

  “No one even knows who I am here.”

  “No, but they know who Cole is,” Jillian mutters. “You two better get your story straight as soon as he comes back.”

  Chapter Three - Mindy

  “Thank you. Thank you so much.” I can’t hide my smile as the porter drops a key into my palm. I close the door to my suite and flop back onto my bed, stretching my arms and legs out like a starfish. The cornice on the ceiling is painted mint green, and it’s kind of shiny, which should be off-putting, but it’s not. It’s quaint, and cute, and reminds me of all the reasons I booked this place to begin with.

  I roll over and pull my handbag toward me. The vibrating of my phone can’t be ignored, even in these peaceful surrounds, and I make a mental note to turn it off during the day when I write.

  The name on the screen makes me smile. “Yeeeeees.” I draw the word out when I answer, making my voice deep.

  “Mindy,” says my friend Kate. “Where are you?”

  “I’m ensconced in the wilds of Ballarat, settling in for three weeks of writing bliss. Where are you?”

  There’s a silence, then my best friend says, “You’re in Ballarat?”

  “Not right in it. About ten minutes’ drive out. There’s birds, and a balcony, and I can feel my fingers itching to get the words out.”

  “Want to catch up?”

  Before I can answer, loud hammering catches my attention. I frown, and stare at the wall while the noise continues. Eventually I reply to Kate. “Aren’t you in Bendigo?”

  “I was, but they transferred me to Ballarat yesterday. I had no idea you’d be here. We’ll be able to hang out every night.” She squeals and I can’t help but smile. If anyone can make me feel loved, it’s Kate.

  “That’s awesome.” I want to mean the words, I really do, but my tone is flat. If I hang out with my bestie every night my book will never get finished. “When do you want to meet?”

  “How about right now?”

  “Oh.” I pull the phone from my ear and check the time. “I guess I could. I’ve just checked in.”

  “Great. Is there a restaurant where you are?”

  “Well, there’s supposed to be, but they just told me it’s closed for the next six weeks.”

  “You can come to me then. I’ll text you a good spot for coffee and see you in half an hour.”

  I sit up with a longing look at my computer bag. The first words of a new book, which always thrill me as they appear on the screen, will have to wait a little longer.

  When I return to the resort three hours later, it is no longer recognisable as the peaceful writing retreat of my dreams. Two diggers have moved into position, along with cement pipes, rolls of copper and a large amount of temporary fencing. If I’m not mistaken, one of the diggers is parked directly below the balcony of my room. As I walk along a path that earlier today was filled with birdsong and the rustling of leaves, now all I can hear is engine noise and hammering ricocheting off the trees. Instead of returning to my room, I detour to the front desk, where I join a queue of unhappy guests. By the time I get my turn with the receptionist, I already know what’s going on.

  The resort failed to mention on their booking page that they’d organised eight weeks of renovations at the resort. Since it’s the off-season, it’s the prime time for all the fixing that needs to take place. The restaurant has been closed for the same reason, and the people in front of me were horrified to hear the carpark would be blocked off for days at a time. I ask about a refund, but the woman says she needs to check with the owners. Who, of course aren’t answering their phone, so we all just have to wait.

  I shudder as I think about how I gushed to Kate just now about how great this time alone was going to be for me. I even made her promise not to distract me too much, but she shrugged off my concerns. Her new job starts tomorrow, and it’s meant to be a cruisy post caring for a guy who’s recovering from an accident. Her position is live-in, so she won’t be available for daily catchups and, anyway, she’s doing her best to make a good impression as she had to leave her last placement early when her brother got sick.

  For a moment I regret how forceful I was about my alone time; I just might need a distraction at this rate.

  Not that she was listening very carefully. We were too busy laughing about our single status and the prospect of us turning into old maids together. I giggle now as I think of her trying to set me up with the barista for a date. I don’t know who was more horrified—me or him—when she suggested we meet on the weekend. I’m not looking for a hook-up. If I’m going to agree to a date with anyone, I want it to be as romantic as one of my books.

  I push thoughts of romance away and drag myself back to my room, with a new plan to grab my computer and sit by the pool. The sight of twinkling blue water always puts me in the right mood to write and though it’s a bit late in the day for swimming, it will be nice to relax and get started on a fresh new writing page.

  It’s the right decision, since my room is
a cacophony of sound from every corner and I quickly retreat to the pool, earbuds in hand. I lay out my towel and adjust my chair to just the right angle. Then I settle back and open my computer, taking a few minutes to set up a new file and make sure I set it to back up regularly.

  I’m eight hundred words in, humming to my favourite tune, when I’m distracted by a man in a yellow high-visibility shirt, dragging a heavy piece of machinery across the pavers. I keep typing, my eyes flicking to him over and over, until I have to close my laptop and stare, open mouthed.

  The thing he was dragging is a pump. To add insult to the injury of this disappointing day, he starts pumping the water out of the pool.

  In my dream it’s raining, and the drops of water are hurling themselves at my face as the sideways rain picks up. I bend my body and brush moisture off my face as a loud crack of thunder reverberates across the landscape. Except it’s not raining, and this isn’t a dream—something which becomes clear when I open my eyes and find dirt on the hand wiping my face. I lean over and turn the light on so I can see my hand. White flecks are on my fingers and I glance up at the ceiling, horrified to see a circle of loose plaster flaking onto me. My phone is also ringing, and I glance at the little alarm clock on the bedside table to discover it’s three in the morning.

  “What is it, Kate?” I sit up, brushing the plaster onto the floor. In all the time we’ve known each other she’s never called me in the middle of the night.

  “Mindy. I need a massive favour. A huge one. The biggest ever.” She’s in a panic, repeating herself in different ways.

  “What is it?”

  “Mum is sick. I have to get to the airport to be with her.”

  “Okay, do you need me to drive you?”

  “No, I need you to take the job tomorrow.”

  “The job?” I haven’t the faintest idea what she’s talking about.

  Her voice takes on a shriek. “Yes, the job at the house for the guy with the broken leg. I can’t tell them I have sick family again; they’ll fire me for sure. But I have to go to Mum. Can you fill in for me?”

  “I’m not a nurse!” I stand up, cursing as I catch my little toe on a leg tucked under the bed. “I’ll call them tomorrow for you and let them know what’s happened. How does that sound?”

  “No.” She’s really panicked, then her voice is muffled, and I hear her say, “Just throw the bag in the car. Don’t worry about making it pretty. We have to go now!” She comes back to me, panting. “Please, Mindy. I can’t lose that job. It took me ages to get them to roster me on after the last time.” I hear the car door slam and her telling someone to slow down.

  Her panic is catching and before I can consider my words, I hear myself say, “Alright. Send me the details. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re the best. I so owe you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just get to your mum. I hope she’s okay.”

  “Will do. Sending a text in a second.” The phone goes dead and I stare at it for a moment before it chimes and three texts come through together.

  In the quiet of my room I finally have a moment to think about what I just agreed to.

  What have I done?

  Chapter Four - Mindy

  The house is enormous. Like, room to house your eight children, their fourteen kids and all the help you can drag along for such a huge tribe, type of enormous. I bet this place has thirty bedrooms, judging from all the front facing windows I can see. It could easily pass for a castle.

  Panic is my overwhelming emotion as I sit in my car staring at the place I’ll call home for the next three weeks. No way will I be able to write freely when I’m twisted up inside like this. No way. I reach for my phone and call Kate. Her second flight doesn’t leave for forty-five minutes and I say a silent prayer to the universe for her to answer. She does so on the third ring.

  “Mindy, is something wrong? Already?”

  “Yes,” I whisper. “This is wrong. You should call and tell them what’s going on.”

  “Why are you whispering? Are you calling from his house?” Her voice rises on the last word. “Don’t let him hear you!”

  “He won’t hear me. I’m still in the car. I’m too scared to go in.”

  “I’m so sorry to put you in this situation but I know they’ll fire me if I tell them. Can’t you just see how it goes? And stop whispering if you’re in your car.” She laughs but I’m all scowls. I can’t find a single thing funny in this situation.

  “I can’t lie about being a nurse. I can’t.”

  “We went through this. You’re a medical assistant. You’re there to look after him so they don’t have to rush around and leave him alone while a replacement is found.” She laughs again, a nervous jitter evident. “Don’t tell him that bit, though.”

  “Why are you laughing?” I hiss. “He’s going to call the police.”

  “It’s not funny laughing, trust me. He won’t call the police. You just say as little as possible, look after him, and write your book. I don’t need to remind you that this is exactly what I did for you once.”

  Silence fills my car as I close my eyes and lean against the headrest. I’m back to whispering when I answer, “I can’t believe you’d bring that up.”

  “Well, I did. I need you to save me, Mindy. Please.”

  “Okay.” I’m defeated.

  “Thank you. A thousand times thank you. I’ll let you know how Mum is as soon as I land.”

  There’s nothing else to say. “Okay.”

  The call disconnects and I sit staring at my phone, thinking of the time Kate switched places with me for a date I didn’t want to go on. She went to dinner, endured a movie, and even let the guy kiss her goodnight in my place. All because I got called into work and was too shallow to tell the guy I wasn’t interested in him. He called her for weeks afterward, which was something we hadn’t anticipated.

  Just like I’m sure we haven’t anticipated everything that could go wrong with this latest stupid idea.

  There’s a white envelope taped to the door handle when I approach the house. My stomach turns over when I see Kate’s name scrawled on the outside.

  Please, please be a note to say she’s not needed.

  There’s nothing I want more in this moment than to turn around and go back to the noisiest hotel in the world. I’ll take plaster falling on my head while I sleep over what I’m about to do. Hell, I’d take sleeping in the car over this.

  Of course, I’m not lucky enough to get a reprieve. The note tells me the woman who was supposed to give me the tour had to leave early. I stand on the front step for a moment assessing this whole crazy situation as my eyes scan the piece of paper.

  What kind of an agency organises staff who cannot follow through on their task? First Kate, now this woman. I’m starting to feel like this poor patient needs me to be here today, if only to save him from people who have their own life emergencies. How lucky for him that all I have to do is write a book and get it to my editor.

  I can’t help but snort at the rest of the instructions.

  The absent tour-guide has hidden the key for me and told me where to find the patient. There’s a vague explanation of where to find my room, but basically it says I’m on my own.

  Which would be fine, if I was an actual qualified nurse.

  Chapter Five - Mindy

  I find the key exactly where the note said it would be and I’m devastated. Some tiny part of me hoped it wouldn’t be there. That I could call Kate back, apologise, and get the hell out of here. Sure, my hotel plans have fallen through, but I could make new ones. I could work something out.

  Instead of fleeing, I take a deep breath, square my shoulders and slide the key into the lock. To my great disappointment it turns smoothly, and the door swings open with a light push. There’s no creak of hinges, just a silent movement that allows me entry to a huge foyer. I close the door quietly behind me, careful to replace the key for the next lying, cheating nurse
-impersonator who shows up at this mansion.

  What the hell am I doing here?

  He’ll know I’m not a nurse after twenty seconds of questioning and I’ll be kicked out, or worse, the police will be called.

  I’m going to be arrested.

  Writers are weird creatures, which means my thoughts turn to how much writing time I could manage if I end up in prison. Can you keep your laptop in a prison if you stay off the internet? Do prisoners really have chores like cleaning the bathrooms and pressing the laundry to take up their free time?

  I snicker to myself as I take three creeping steps forward. If people saw inside my head I’d end up worse than in prison. That’s why I need some writing time, and soon. I have a whole crazy story inside me and it’s itching to get out.

  I follow the instructions and turn to the left. The note said the guy’s room—his name is Mr. Rummer, apparently—is to the left. I need to go through two sitting areas and then his room is on the left. A blue door, she said. I quietly move through the first area and hope the rooms will be exactly as she explained. The last thing I need to be doing is prowling around an unfamiliar residence while an injured man lies waiting.

  It’s about now that I start running over all the reasons why I quit nursing. Why did I agree to this stupid plan? It’s going to end badly, and Kate is going to lose her job. There’s really no other possible outcome once you agree to be dishonest. I should just go in there, tell him the truth, and then we’ll work out a way through it.

  I knock lightly, but there’s no response, so I take a deep breath and ease the door open, peering around it. “Hello? Mr. Rummer?”

  It’s a huge room but there’s no missing the hospital bed set up at the foot of the king sized one, or the shape of a sleeping body. I glance behind me, unsure whether I should wait until he’s awake. I’m not sure I’ll hear him if he calls, though, so I step forward, trying to ignore the hammering in my ears. “Hello?”