Billionaires On the Beach: The Anderson Brothers

by Elizabeth Lennox

  As he stepped into the shower, his mind went through possible plans to help the shop owners. He could offer them good deals on retail spaces in the new development. Favorable terms plus the increased foot traffic could help the shop owners survive.

  Then his mind thought back to the other shops. His research team had done an excellent job of getting information on the other shops and he knew that there was no way in hell he would allow the others to own retail space in his new enterprise. First of all, most of them were already well past retirement age. Secondly, they were nuts! Even the names of the stores…all named after crazy southern phrases…just…well, yeah, he could see the quirky advantages to the names. But not in his resort. He was building an elegant hotel in that space. Quirky shops with outrageous owners simply wouldn’t fit.

  His team even speculated that Melvin, the antique store owner who was eighty years old if he was a day, was having an affair with the seventy-year-old book store owner. He chuckled as he thought of those two, hoping that he would still be that engaged in sexual activities when he hit his eighties.

  Stepping into his shower, he turned on all of the nozzles, trying to get a pair of soft, blue eyes and a sexy, messy bun out of his mind. But that only allowed the image of two almost-centurions having sex to enter his mind and…shaking his head, he forced his mind to go over his plans for the day. Financials, architecture, zoning…all the details needed in order to meet his current timeline. The meeting this morning was to get all of his various companies on the same page, setting a timeline and deadlines.

  ***

  Maria was practically dancing as she walked from the parking lot to The Pearls of Wisdom Cove, the small boardwalk shops where her coffee shop and other quirky stores resided. Balancing her laptop bag on one shoulder, her purse on the other and five cups of coffee in her hands, she slammed her car door closed with a flip of her hip, dangling her keys by her pinky finger as she made her way from the parking lot to the stores. “Good morning!” she called out as she delivered two cups of coffee to Catherine and Cassie, the sixty-four-year-old twins who owned the dress and jewelry shop at one end of the small U that formed their eccentric little mall.

  Catherine and Cassie both emerged from the back storeroom, their eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Oh, my!” Cassie gasped, both ladies excited as they took in Maria’s expression.

  “She’s found a beau!” Catherine exclaimed, clapping her elderly hands together as she grabbed a fanciful hat off one of the mannequins. “What’s his name?” she asked as she plopped the hat down on Maria’s head, adjusting the bun on Maria’s head slightly so the hat fit perfectly.

  Cassie took the red, cashmere pashmina off the mannequin and tossed it dramatically around her sister’s neck.

  These two ladies were the divas of the “Pearls”, always eager for a crazy drama and a plot twist, sometimes making up a story just for a bit of adventure.

  Maria shook her head as she took two muffins out of the bag, placing them on napkins for the elderly twins.

  “I don’t have a beau,” she asserted, and it was the truth. She might have a crush on a mysterious, incredibly enticing, crazy-scary, and intimidating man…but he wasn’t her “beau”, as these ladies liked to refer to any romantically inclined male in a woman’s life.

  Ollie wiggled at her feet, eager for his own treat. In response to his nudging, she reached into the cabinet and pulled out his bone which he excitedly clamped between his teeth and swaggered off to his corner. While Maria worked, Ollie stayed mostly with the twins during the day and charmed the customers that came into the store. But he also roamed around to the other stores of the Cove, spoiled by the shop owners who vied for his companionship and treated him like their own grandson. Even before she’d inherited her grandmother’s coffee shop, Maria and Ollie had been coming to this beach over the years. The silly shop owners gave the poor animal reindeer ears to wear around the Christmas season, heart collars for Valentine’s Day, and a different dog costume each year for Halloween…not to mention the costumes for all the other official and unofficial holidays. Ollie was regularly dressed up in some silly costume.

  Thankfully, Ollie loved it. He pranced around, showing off whatever the ladies and Melvin, the one male in their small group, chose for him. He was such a mutt, but he was also the most loveable creature one could ever meet. And the dog knew how to charm anyone and everyone!

  Seeing that Ollie was fully occupied, she turned back towards the twins, giving them each a gentle hug. “Gotta go!” Maria called out, taking the hat off and placing it on the countertop. She hurried towards the exit, knowing that these elderly ladies would get the details about the newest man she’d met out of her eventually. But right now, she was too happy to keep her fantasies about a tall, dark, dangerous stranger who made her body melt with the promise of heat from his smoldering eyes private.

  Ollie barked once in goodbye and Maria bent down to ruffle his fur. He took it for a moment, then went back to his bone.

  “Don’t give him your muffins!” she warned before vanishing out of the shop.

  She did the same to Melvin, owner of the antique shop, aptly named “Honey, Darlin’ and Sugah”, then on to Suzy, the lingerie store owner who, as usual, had a sexy outfit waiting for her to examine. After delivering coffee and a muffin to Suzy, oohing a bit over the new satin teddy that Maria would never wear because the thing clearly didn’t cover anything essential, she moved on to Samantha. Samantha owned the bookshop called, “What Part of Y’all Don’t You Understand?” nicknamed “Woopeedid” because Samantha’s title was too long for ordinary conversation. The acronym wasn’t perfect, but then again, none of the owners cared much for accuracy anyway.

  Since Cassie and Catherine had both noticed something strange about Maria’s appearance this morning, she hurried into Samantha’s book shop, intent on dropping off the coffee and morning muffin and getting out as fast as possible. Samantha was a matchmaker. Or, since Maria preferred accuracy over diplomacy, a meddler. Although, to be fair, Samantha did it all with the best of intentions, wanting everyone to be as happy as she’d been during her lifetime since she’d had five different husbands, all better than the one before.

  But Maria didn’t want Samantha to know about her mystery man. It was a secret fantasy that she wanted to savor all by herself. If Samantha knew about her mystery man, she would be relentless with the questions.

  “Good morning, dear,” Samantha said as she looked up from her book. “My, you look especially bright and cheerful this morning!”

  Maria only smiled and turned around. “Gotta go!” she said and hurried back out the door.

  In the safety of her coffee shop, she breathed a sigh of relief as she tied the apron around her waist.

  “What’s going on?” Amy asked, pouring coffee for yet another customer.

  Maria looked around, proud of the growing base of customers that showed up at the coffee shop each morning. It was winter now, and normally the lowest period of the year for sales. But with the newest marketing she’d implemented, the sales were almost higher than during the peak summer months. The other shops were starting to rebound as well, and she knew that was a good thing. Especially since she was going to call the bank that owned the mortgage on their small cove, asking for an extension on the late payments. She had a business plan all laid out. She just needed another six months to get the six shops back on their feet.

  “Oh nothing,” Maria lied. “Just avoiding Ms. Samantha’s curious eyes.”

  Amy chuckled. “She’s a sweet woman,” she commented, smiling at the next customer.

  Maria agreed, grabbing a cup and a tea bag before pouring in hot water and setting it to the side to steep.

  She thought about the other storeowners; they were all sweet, wonderful people. And she just had to make her plan work. The shop owners were all too old to find other jobs. Yes, they were all eligible for retirement, but they didn’t want to do that. They thrived on running their individual businesses,
talking with the customers. Maria had worked with each of them to adjust their stock, their displays, and update their inventory systems. She’d even come up with an advertising and e-mail plan that was gaining momentum. The coffee shop seemed to be the lowest price point and could draw the customers into the cove. But the others had to do their part to entice the customers into their shop, have items that were affordable and impulse buys.

  So far, her plan was working. But…

  The bells over her door jingled loudly and Maria turned, her eyes taking in the soft golden highlights and harried expression of Gemma, the lady that owned the gym down the street. “You’re late,” Maria called out, grabbing the secret stash of agave nectar from under the counter and pushing it towards her harried friend as she slid the steeping cup of tea towards her. “Why are you late?”

  Gemma bustled to the end of the counter, avoiding the line that had formed towards the cash register. “I overslept,” she grumbled, taking the tea and a grateful sip.

  Maria harrumphed with skepticism. “I don’t believe it. You never oversleep. You normally wake up before your alarm. What’s wrong? Are you sick?” she teased.

  Gemma grimaced. “I know, I know! I don’t know what’s going on. But…” she took another sip of her tea and sighed with happiness. “You’ve got to tell me where you get this stuff! It’s awesome!”

  Maria shook her head. “No way. If I don’t keep a hidden stash for you, I’d never see you. It’s the only way I can get you into the store.”

  Gemma laughed, shaking her head. “Not true. Speaking of which, when are you coming in to work out again? I have a new Zumba instructor starting next week. Come to the class.”

  Maria thought about it. “I’ll let you know,” she told her friend. Gemma was sweet and wonderful, but she was a maniac about working out. Maria understood why, but that didn’t mean she wanted to participate in her friend’s insanity.

  “Translated into ‘no way, my friend’. I understand. But come anyway.” With that command, her friend spun around on her sneakered foot and bustled out, smiling to others in line that she knew.

  ***

  Samantha pulled her sweater closer as she stepped out of her shop, looking into the windows of the coffee shop, her long finger tapping against her chin. At the same moment, Ollie stepped through his doggie door and looked up at the older woman.

  Samantha’s arthritic fingers settled into the scruffy fur of Ollie’s neck, gently rubbing her friend behind his ears. “What do you think, Ollie? Is there a man in our little lady’s life finally?” she asked.

  Ollie barked once, then walked behind the counter. When he returned, there was a tennis ball in his mouth. He disappeared around the corner of the shops.

  Samantha followed him, suspecting that something was going on. Ollie glanced over his shoulder, waiting for her. Samantha knew she was probably nutty, but was the dog asking her to follow? Dogs didn’t really do that…

  Did they?

  Never one to ignore an adventure, she grabbed her keys, turned the “open” sign to “Be back in five minutes” and followed the adorably ugly dog.

  Ten minutes later, Samantha’s eyes narrowed when Ollie reappeared through the intimidating fence line that protected what looked to be a magnificent beach house perched on top of a cliff, tennis ball no longer in his mouth.

  “I think you’re onto something, my friend,” she said, opening the car door so that the dog could jump back inside. “But I think a more dramatic message is needed.”

  Chapter 3

  Twelve hours later, Sloan drove up the driveway of his house, prepared to shower and change for his evening. But as soon as his Land Rover pulled up in front of his house, he spotted the balls. Tennis balls. Seven or eight grimy, well-worn tennis balls littered the area in front of his house.

  “Ollie,” Sloan groaned out loud. The dog had followed his scent all the way from the beach to his house. Amazing, he thought as he gathered up the balls and took them inside. Shaking his head, he called his assistant. As soon as the man picked up, he said, “Cancel my dinner plans.” He listened for a moment as James went through the messages that had come in since Sloan had left the office, then gave him instructions on several other issues. Hanging up the phone, he contemplated his next action.

  Dumping the balls into a basket, he hurried up the stairs, eager for his revised evening plans. A true southern gentleman would deliver the balls back to the dog. His mother had been hounding him to be more gentlemanly with the women in his life, he thought with increasing anticipation. And Sloan decided that he could act like a gentleman, at least for one night.

  As he showered, he formed a plan in his mind. He’d deliver the balls, inform the lovely, enticing, and enchanting Ms. Maria Ellis about his identity, and explain the plans he’d worked on today. His team had looked shocked initially as he outlined his newest plan, but no one argued with him. If there was one thing Sloan Anderson knew how to do, it was how to make money.

  Tossing his towel away, he walked naked into his bedroom, unconcerned about the floor to ceiling windows that looked over the beach and out to the ocean. During the daylight hours, the view was spectacular and since there was nothing in his bedroom other than an extremely large bed, nothing hindered his view, even though he was rarely home to enjoy it.

  In his closet, he pulled out a pair of jeans, a tee shirt, and a soft sweater. Tonight wasn’t the time for a business suit.

  ***

  Maria heard the doorbell ring and her head swung around, wide, blue eyes staring at the front door. She’d found an old box of letters in her grandmother’s attic and was reading through them, crying at some of the sweet words her grandfather had penned to her grandmother over the years.

  The doorbell was a jarring break in the silence of her night.

  “Who could that be?” she asked Ollie, who was draped over her legs and feet, his wet nose hanging over the edge of the sofa.

  “Are you okay, boy?” she asked, sitting up. The doorbell was usually his cue to bark and dance around, eager for another playmate. Ollie would never make it as a guard dog. He was just too excited about anyone new to enter his life. He considered strangers to simply be two additional hands that could rub his belly or toss a tennis ball for him.

  But at the sound of the doorbell now, Ollie didn’t jump up. In fact, he looked…guilty? Nervous? She wiggled her legs and feet out from under his scruffy body, not sure what to make of the absence of his eagerness as she set aside the well-worn letter she’d been reading.

  Hurriedly, she wiped her cheeks, trying to hide the evidence of her silly sentimentality.

  “Coming!” she called out, wondering who could be at the door at this hour of the night, as well as Ollie’s unprecedented silence at the possibility of a visitor. She should grab a tissue, she thought. Maybe even stop by the bathroom and throw some cold water on her splotchy cheeks. But Maria figured that the person on the other side of the doorway wouldn’t even realize that she’d been crying.

  Walking towards the front door, she supposed the person on the other side was just her neighbor who regularly stopped by to drop off soup or a casserole, assuming that a twenty-something, single woman didn’t know how to cook.

  She only pulled the sides of her flannel shirt closed so that her camisole was covered, unconcerned about the flannel pajama bottoms that were tied around her hips, riding low enough that they exposed her belly button. Her neighbors had seen her in a bikini over the summer months when she’d visited her grandmother throughout the years. Pajama bottoms and a flannel shirt wouldn’t shock them a bit.

  Nope, the shock came when she opened the door and found a tall…hugely tall…man standing in the doorway. When he turned to face her, those silver eyes moved up and down her body, taking in every detail, including her belly button that was exposed to the cool, night air. And his heated eyes!

  That silver gaze took it all in, ending on her red cheeks and long, wet lashes.

  “What’s wrong?” Slo
an demanded, stepping into her house and looking around for a threat. “Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?” he asked, his hands gently holding her upper arms, trying to shield her somehow as his eyes continued to scan the small cottage for the threat.

  “Hurt?” Maria asked, not sure what he was talking about. “I’m not hurt.” But boy, she really enjoyed his touch. And despite every feminist instinct in her brain and body, she couldn’t help but be charmed by the man’s instant attempt to protect her. Yeah, she could take care of herself, having taken Krav Maga classes since college. But it sure was nice to have a big, strong man put his arms around her.

  “Umm…why do you ask?” she inquired, surreptitiously wiping her cheek once again. Darn it, her fingers came away wet.

  “You’re crying,” he told her. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He shifted his body so that his hands were on her upper arms and he was looking down into her blue eyes.

  She sniffed self-consciously, her fingers once again moving over her cheeks, trying to hide the evidence of her tears. “Nothing is wrong.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Something is wrong, Maria. Tell me and I’ll fix it. I can do that. I have enough power to fix anything that is wrong.”

  She smiled, but the expression wobbled slightly. She put a hand on his arm, feeling silly. “I promise. Nothing is wrong.”

  He obviously didn’t believe her. “Then explain to me why you are crying.” His hand moved, that hard thumb rubbing along her cheek, drying another tear that had escaped.

  “Oh,” she sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I was reading my grandmothers letters.”

  ***

  He stared at her for a moment, waiting for additional information. “Your grandmother’s letters made you cry?”