The Irredeemable Billionaire (Muse series)

by Couper, Lexxie

  “Whoa. You’re scary.”

  Flicking on the turn indicator, Grace gave her partner—who laughed at her in the ambulance’s passenger seat—a glare. “You, too, Rory, if you keep laughing.”

  “Hi, Rory,” Shelli called through the phone connection, her mirth filling the cabin. “Can you tell Grace to lighten up?”

  “Sure. Lighten up, Wilder.”

  Grace gritted her teeth and directed the ambulance into its designated parking bay in the depot.

  “Thanks, Rory,” Shelli said. “I’ll buy you a drink after the game on Friday.”

  Grace killed the engine and dropped her forehead onto the steering wheel. “Why did I ever introduce you two to each other?”

  Rory slapped her on the back. “Because your new partner was a fabulous Scottish Chinese gay boy new to Sydney, and you took pity on his lonely—”

  “But fabulous,” Shelli interjected.

  “But fabulous arse, and gave him a friend.”

  “Exactly,” Shelli agreed through the phone.

  Raising her head, Grace scowled first at her phone where it sat in its dock on the dash, and then at Rory.

  Rory wriggled his eyebrows.

  Grace chuckled and shook her head. What was the point? It was impossible to be angry with Rory for long. “Get out, Chang, and go home. Your shift’s done.”

  “Bye, Rory,” Shelli called. “See you Friday. Don’t forget we’re fundraising for breast cancer this game.”

  “Lollie-pink tutu and a tiara to be worn. Got it. See you there.” Squeezing Grace’s hand, Rory opened his door and climbed out. “Don’t be too hard on Shelli. We need her on the basketball court.”

  Grace waved him off with a smile. “Be gone, Chang. See you tomorrow.”

  Alone in the ambulance, she let out a sigh. It had been a long shift. A stressful one, given she hadn’t been able to have a conversation with Shelli until now.

  She’d left Shelli numerous messages to get her butt over to Cody and get Sebastian out of it. She’d received two replies from Shelli. One saying she was caught in a work emergency and would get to Cody as soon as possible, and another two hours later stating everything was okay.

  The workday just added to the fun—two drug overdoses, a suspected stroke, a fifteen-year-old girl with a broken back from a skateboarding accident, and a possible food-poisoning victim. And that was just the legit callouts. In among all that, there’d been the usual false alarms and nonevent jobs. At least the lovely, but clearly lonely, old lady at the last one of those had offered tea and biscuits. A couple of Tim Tams and a milky tea with three sugars may not be the best of dinners, but it was something.

  Chocolate biscuits and tea in your stomach, a friend going behind your back, and an annoying irritation at home. Maybe a third straight shift is what you need right now?

  “You’re mad, aren’t you?”

  She rubbed her eyes at Shelli’s soft question. “Shels, I thought you knew how I felt about Sebastian Hart. And let’s not even talk about the fact you and Cody went behind my back.”

  “But you should have seen Cody’s face, Grace. When we were talking about big brothers and what they do with their little brothers. I haven’t seen him so excited since Gary…” She trailed off.

  Grace closed her eyes. Since Gary had been alive. That’s what Shelli had been going to say. Since Cody had a male figure in his life. Since he had a family member who played with him and didn’t work all the time.

  She dropped her head onto the steering wheel again. “But why Sebastian Hart, Shels? Why him?”

  “It wasn’t my call, it was Judge Myers. I couldn’t tell her Cody wasn’t a good fit because you and Hart used to call each other names when you were kids, could I? She’s…scary.”

  “Scary? You want scary, Shels? Sebastian Hart is back in my life now. He brought out the worst in me. Are you ready for that again?”

  Silence stretched over the connection for a second, and then Shelli sighed. “Okay, I’ll admit you guys had a turbulent relationship, and he wasn’t always nice, but Grace…he’s a filmmaker. Think about how much Cody loves movies. I know none of his friends really get him and his geeky-movie obsessions, so having someone like Hart in his life would be incredible. I mean, who wouldn’t want the Sebastian Hart in their life? Well, except you.”

  A chill swept over Grace, singeing away her agitation. Cody’s friends didn’t get him? God, how woeful of a mother was she if she didn’t know that? He’d been turning down playdates lately, and talking more about the school library than the school playground, but she hadn’t thought it had anything to do with not fitting in. Her stomach knotted. Jesus.

  “You’ve finished your shift, right?” Shelli asked.

  She swallowed. “Yeah.”

  “Come ’round. You need a cuppa. And a hug.”

  Another knot twisted in her stomach. “What do you mean, come ’round? Aren’t you at my place?”

  There was more silence.

  “Shelli?”

  “I couldn’t get away from work. So I called your house, and Hart was totally okay staying with Cody until you finished your shift. Cody was having a ball. I’d interrupted them playing Mario Kart. He was nice to talk to.” She paused. “Although I don’t think Hart remembered who I was. Guess I didn’t have as big an impact on his life as you did, huh?”

  Grace scrunched up her face and fisted her hands in her hair. “Shelli, I really am going to kill you when I see you again. I’ve to get home. Who knows if Hart is still there? He’s probably gone and left Cody with his personal food stylist.”

  “He’s got one of those?”

  As angry and frustrated as she was, she couldn’t help but laugh. Shelli was an acquired taste, but everything she did, she did from her heart. “Who knows? Probably. He’s a Hollywood celebrity. Hollywood celebrities have those kinds of things, don’t they?”

  Shelli snorted. “Well, if he has left Cody with his personal whatever, Judge Myers is going to have a fit. She’s tough. Doesn’t joke about. I’m surprised Hart got community service, to be honest. Myers is the kind of judge to throw a person in jail for what he did.”

  “What did he do?”

  “Oh, honey, when you get home, Google Sebastian Hart and Hugo Boss.”

  Grace rolled her eyes. “Even when he’s bad, it involves a lifestyle I can’t fathom.”

  Shelli laughed. “As far as I know, his punishment was kept from the public—isn’t that always the way with celebrities—but there’s plenty of stuff out there about what he did. Including smartphone footage.”

  “Footage?”

  “Check it out when you get home. If nothing else, it might make you feel better. Seeing your nemesis doing something so stupid.”

  Stupid? Sebastian had done a lot of irritating things during their time living next to each other, but he’d never been stupid. He was too smart, too…self-aware to be stupid.

  “On that note”—Grace plucked her phone from the dock—“I’m going home. If I’m lucky, Hart will still be there, and I won’t find Cody alone.”

  “And if you’re unlucky?”

  “My mother-in-law will have called while I was on shift, will now know I’m such a woeful mother Cody needs a court-appointed big brother, and she will be organizing a flight from the UK as we speak to come tell me to my face how pathetic I am.”

  “Your mother-in-law is a cow.”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll beat her up if she tries.”

  Warmth flowed through Grace, and a smile pulled at her tired lips. “I know you would, Shels. And I love you for it.”

  “So, you forgive me for what Cody and I did?”

  Grace threw back her head and laughed. “Hell no. You’re still not out of my bad books.”

  Shelli’s chuckle wafted through the connection. “Love you, Wilder.”

  “Love you, too, Holt. Now bugger off. It’s way past your bedtime.”

  She ended the call before Shelli could say anything else.
A tight lump had taken up residence in her stomach sometime between Sebastian Hart first appearing on her door and now. Was it from anger? Shame?

  “Well, sitting here isn’t going to deal with it, so…” She opened the driver’s door, climbed out of the ambulance, and headed into the depot.

  The requisite paperwork took longer than she’d hoped, thanks to the drug overdoses and the legal forms needed for each. By the time she was in her car and heading home, a headache was doing its best to give her grief. Plus, the lump in her stomach was getting tighter the closer she got.

  Turning onto her street, the windows of the houses around her mostly dark, she let out a shaky sigh. After the hell Sebastian Hart had put her through during their time living next to each other, she still wasn’t sure how to approach him in her home.

  She chewed on her bottom lip. “Maybe if I ignore his existence?”

  Yeah, like that was going to work. It hadn’t when she was a teenager, and it sure as hell wouldn’t—

  Her phone pinged with an incoming message. She glanced at its screen, and her stomach tightened even more.

  Another double shift? Want me to bring some supper over? Hot chocolate? Justin.

  Justin wanted to come over. Justin, her single and thoroughly sweet next-door neighbor who always seemed to know when her shifts had beaten her down. Justin, who offered to mow her lawn and knew how she took her lattes and owned a fancy coffee machine.

  Justin wanted to come over. With hot chocolate.

  While Sebastian Hart was in her house.

  “Oh man, why does life have such a weird sense of humor?”

  Pulling into her driveway, she killed the engine and lights and studied her house. A blue flickering glow in the living room meant someone was in there watching television. Sebastian? Or had he bailed? She wouldn’t put it past him.

  Her phone pinged again. Another message from Justin.

  So? Hot chocolate?

  Get inside, get Hart out, text Justin. That’s what she would do. Maybe it was time to start thinking of her…love life again. If Cody needed a male figure in his life, Justin Fitzsimmons was a perfect fit. He was friendly, hardworking, sporty, outdoorsy, and intelligent. And he really knew how to make the most delicious hot chocolate, just what every single, working mum needed.

  But you don’t want to start thinking of your love life. Not at all.

  Still, Justin would be a better male role model for Cody than Sebastian, right? Justin was nice. Sebastian was… Well, Sebastian.

  “Get in, get Hart out, text Justin,” she muttered as she shoved her phone into her bag, climbed from her car, and hurried into her home via the internal garage access.

  The sound of one of those US late-night talk shows drifted down the hallway, the laughter raucous even if the volume was low.

  Okay, so whoever was watching it was considerate of the time of night. No one needed audience laughter blaring at them at close to midnight, especially a ten-year-old. Although if Cody was still awake watching the show on a school night, she would really put her grumpy-mum pants on and kick some butt. Hollywood celebrity or not, Sebastian was going to discover she could still smash her foot into his shins with brutal precision.

  Approaching her living room, her heart thumped faster.

  What would she do if Hart wasn’t here? If he had taken off? He was selfish enough to. Well, at least the Sebastian she’d grown up next door to had been. If she told this Judge Myers, what would happen to him? Jail?

  A cold finger traced up her spine. Regardless of everything he’d done to her growing up, the thought of him in jail…

  She shuddered.

  On the television screen, the host was doing one of those opening monologues. The audience laughed. An image hung in the space beside his head, superimposed there by a computer. A movie poster? With a woman with long wild hair.

  She squinted, trying to make out the title of the movie. Samantha and who?

  “Are we calling it a mess?” the host asked someone off screen. “Or is that being—”

  The television screen went black just as Sebastian leaned forward on the sofa.

  Grace paused, something about the way he was sitting, something about the way his shoulders bunched…

  “Hey.”

  He jumped at her soft greeting, jolting stiff on the sofa. “Fuck a duck, Tinsel Teeth, you scared the— Sorry, sorry. That was mean. I won’t call you that again.”

  “Thanks.” Hmmm, so that was a lame reaction to his teenage nickname for her. Not what she used to do. But then, she’d never known Sebastian to be so…ruffled. “You okay?”

  A frown flickered over his face, and his Adam’s apple jerked up and down. And then he let out a chuckle and flopped back onto the sofa again. “I’m always okay. You look confused. Surprised to still see me here?”

  Yeah, definitely ruffled. Why? “A little. I thought you might bail and get one of your entourage to take over.”

  He laughed. “Actors have entourages, Grace. Not directors. I have personal assistants.”

  “Assistants? Plural?”

  He flashed a grin at her—back to the Sebastian Hart of old. “I have two. Anya deals with my work stuff, and Mitch handles my personal stuff. What would happen if I only had one PA, and I want something and they were doing something else for me? Always better to have more than one.”

  “I totally forgot what a self-absorbed wanker you are.”

  “Hey!” He pulled a wounded pout.

  With a roll of her eyes, she turned. “I’m just going to check on Cody. I’m more than happy for you to not be here when I get back.”

  Cody was sound asleep, stretched flat on his stomach in his usual sleeping position, glasses skewed on his face, a Star Wars novel next to his head.

  He was still in his clothes, not his PJs. God, had he showered? Cleaned his teeth? Eaten?

  “He’s a weird kid.”

  Grace let out a soft gasp at Sebastian’s low murmur right behind her. She spun, hand over her mouth, and glared at him.

  “But a cool one,” he finished, not looking at her but at Cody. “Knows a lot about movies.”

  “Out, out,” she whispered, pushing him out of the room.

  He chuckled, hands raised in submission, and backed away from the door.

  Sighing, she followed. Okay, so she needed to talk with him about sneaking up on her. In fact, she’d had that conversation with him when she was fourteen. Or was it fifteen? When he’d gone through his let’s-scare-Tinsel-Teeth-and-make-her-scream stage. That stage had ended when she’d given him a black eye.

  His mother had given her parents hell about that. Had threatened to have her arrested. Her mother had told his mother to stick it in her arse.

  “Want a cuppa?”

  She blinked at Sebastian’s question, and then frowned as she realized he was making his way to her kitchen. “What?”

  “You look beat. Exhausted. Do you want a cup of tea?”

  “What?” Who the hell was this man in her home?

  “Tea? Hot beverage. Dried leaves in boiling water. Antioxidants and sustenance. Do you want some?”

  “And you’re going to make it?”

  “No. I’m going to get my personal assistant to.” He threw a mock look over her shoulder. “Mitch, can you come here and make Grace a cup of tea. Earl Grey. No milk. One sugar.”

  “You remember how I take my tea?” What the hell does that mean?

  A confused frown tugged at his forehead, and he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Apparently, I do. Go figure.”

  Go figure, indeed.

  “Now do you want the tea or not?”

  “I have no idea what the hell is going on right now, but sure. Make me a cup of tea, Sebastian Hart.”

  He shook his finger. “No, no. That’s award-winning director Sebastian Hart to you, thank you very much.”

  She arched an eyebrow.

  “Sit. Sit. Let me make you a cuppa.”

  Lowering herself onto the sofa, s
he frowned as Sebastian continued into her kitchen and started opening cupboards. She hadn’t expected this. Of course, she hadn’t expected to become a mother at eighteen, or a widower at twenty-six, either, so the bane of her childhood suddenly making her tea in her home shouldn’t knock her so off-kilter.

  “I should warn you,” he said, placing the electric kettle under the tap, “I’m a better director than I am tea maker.”

  “Is this your way of telling me my tea is going to suck?”

  He tossed her a loose grin over his shoulder. “Yes.”

  She laughed, shook her head, and scrubbed at her face with her hands. Nope. She wasn’t doing this. Being friendly with Sebastian Hart. Not happening.

  “Why did you call Cody weird?” That’s what she needed to do; focus on the typically annoying Sebastian-isms. “He’s not weird. He’s incredible. Amazing.”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong.” Sebastian placed the kettle on its stand, set it to boil, and then turned to face her, resting his butt against the kitchen counter. He looked so at home in her outdated, cluttered kitchen, so relaxed. How was that even possible, with how much money he made, and the circles he moved in? “I like weird. Trust me, in my world, weird is the norm. Some of the most talented people I know are weird. Heard of Thomas St. Clair?”

  “The horror author?”

  “Yep. That’s him. One of my best mates, and he has this really weird tic about fate and writing gods. Oh, and all these weird rules about social interaction when he’s on a deadline. Weird is okay.”

  “So why is Cody weird?”

  The kettle boiled, its climax filling the kitchen with a gurgling, bubbling sound. Holding up a wait finger, Sebastian pushed himself off the counter and turned back to the kettle.

  Before she realized what she was doing, she checked him out. He filled in his jeans—no doubt designer label—so well, and the T-shirt he wore stretched nicely over his broad shoulders and tapered back. He’d always looked good. As a teenager, all the girls at school had drooled after him. How had he stayed in such good shape? Did he work out now? Did he have a personal trainer? He had a swimmer’s body. He probably had swimming pools in all his homes. And a gym and a—

  “Busted.”