The Billionaire’s Promise (A 'Scandals of the Bad Boy Billionaires' Romance)

by Ivy Layne

  Aiden looked up as I entered, his familiar dark eyes assessing me. When Aiden looked at me like that, I always felt like he had x-ray vision. He saw everything, and he knew me better than anyone except Magnolia.

  Fuck. Magnolia.

  What the fuck had happened? I was drinking a cup of coffee, thinking about the logistics of turning the carriage house into a studio, and then she asked me to move out.

  I was still reeling. I’d called her over and over for the first hour after she left. She ignored me at first, then texted to say, I'm coming home in 30 minutes. Don't be there.

  I packed up some of our stuff, and Rosie, and I left. It wasn't like Magnolia to overreact or lose her temper. I was good at convincing her to agree with me. All I had to do was get her to talk to me. But since she'd kicked me out and wouldn't answer her phone, that wasn't looking likely.

  "We'll continue this later," Aiden said to the two people in his office. They stood and left, eyeing me but saying nothing.

  I took one of the seats opposite Aiden, setting Rosie's baby carrier in the other. She was awake, but was happily occupied by the travel mobile on the handle of the carrier.

  "What's up?" Aiden asked. It was the definition of a loaded question. Everything was up. And down. And fucking sideways. I started with the easy part.

  "I need you to watch Rosie for a few hours. I have to meet Abigail at the gallery to make arrangements for a donation and take care of some things for the show. And I have a meeting with an investor I completely forgot about. I can't take Rosie with me."

  Aiden studied me for a long moment before he said, "What about Magnolia? She can't watch Rosie for a few hours?"

  I looked out the window of Aiden's office, unable to meet his eyes as I said, "Magnolia kicked me out. She won't answer my calls."

  "What did you do?" Aiden asked evenly.

  "Why do you assume I did something?" I demanded, glaring at him.

  Fighting with Aiden was always a waste of time. He never lost his temper. That steely look in his eyes only got colder, sharper. I looked away and said, "I didn't do anything. She flipped out on me, wanting to know what our relationship meant and where it was going and how I felt about her before I even had a cup of coffee, and then when she didn't like my answer, she threw me out."

  I was working up a good sense of righteous indignation when Aiden shook his head and let out a laugh. "I love you, Vance, and I'm proud of you. You've been successful in almost every area of your life, but you are a total idiot when it comes to women."

  "What the fuck are you talking about?" I said, suddenly at sea. I was fantastic with women. "Women love me," I protested.

  "Women love you," Aiden said slowly. "But this isn't about women. This is about one woman. This is about Magnolia. And she's been in love with you for years. What did you tell her when she asked you how you felt?"

  "I said I didn't know," I answered, my throat tight. Even angry with Magnolia and feeling wronged, I knew that was a shitty answer to her question.

  "You're kidding, right?" Aiden said. "Please tell me you said anything other than that."

  "She blindsided me," I said defensively.

  "And now that you've had time to think about it?" Aiden asked.

  I started to speak, not quite sure what I was going to say, when the door slammed open. Charlie stood there, her sleek chignon falling down and her cheeks pink with rage.

  "What did you do to Maggie?" she demanded, storming into the room and slamming the door behind her. I shot to my feet, worry stabbing through my gut.

  "What do you mean? Is she okay? What happened?"

  "That's what I want to know. She just called me and asked me to take care of the dog. She won't tell me where she is, she said she's not coming home today, and she was crying. What the hell, Vance? If something's wrong with Maggie, why are you here?"

  "She kicked him out," Aiden supplied helpfully.

  "What did you do?" Charlie screeched.

  "Why does everyone assume this is my fault?" I yelled back, my temper flaring out of control.

  This was my family. Mine. Shouldn't they be on my side? Why couldn't this be Magnolia's fault? She was the one who wouldn't listen. She was the one who wouldn't talk to me about it. Aiden just shook his head at me.

  "Playing the odds," he said. Looking at Charlie, he explained, "She asked him if he loved her and he told her he didn't know."

  Charlie's face fell, her anger sliding away, replaced by a look of immeasurable sadness. She moved Rosie's carrier out of the other chair and unsnapped her, cuddling Rosie in her lap and studying her face for a moment before she looked at me.

  "Vance, you're an asshole. When the woman you love asks you how you feel about her, you don't tell her you don't know. As if Maggie hasn't been through enough, you have to stomp all over her heart? How could you do that?"

  "She took me by surprise," I mumbled. That excuse was starting to wear thin, even to me. "And how do you know I'm in love with her?"

  Charlie rolled her eyes at me. "I can't believe you're really this dumb. This is what happens when you spend your entire adult life sleeping around and never even attempt to have a normal relationship with a woman. Of course you're in love with Maggie. Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that you're not? Because if you've just been using her—"

  Charlie looked down at Rosie and said in a low voice, "That would be pretty much the worst thing you could do to your best friend. Her parents dumped her when she was eight, she lost her only family when her grandmother died, and her fiancée cheated on her then broke up with her a month ago.

  "I've never known anyone who needs a family as much as Maggie. She stuck with Brayden for years because she wanted to get married and have kids. If you moved into her house with Rosie to make your own life easier, and you aren’t in love with her and don’t want a life with her, then you just became the biggest bastard I've ever met."

  When Charlie put it like that . . . I really was a bastard.

  "Fuck," I muttered, unable to look at either of my cousins.

  "You really didn't think this through, did you?" Aiden asked. I scrubbed my palms over my face, my stomach turning over.

  "I had a plan," I said. "After she and Brayden split up, I was going to give her some time to get over him and then I was going to ask her out. But Stephanie showed up with Rosie and . . . I've been a little distracted, okay?"

  Aiden let out a puff of breath and leaned back in his chair. "Okay. I can see how the sudden appearance of a daughter you didn't know existed would shake things up. But Vance, Maggie's been hurt enough, don't you think?"

  "She said she wanted to be my world," I said, mostly to myself.

  "If that's not who she is to you," Charlie said, "then just let her go. I'll track her down. I'll make sure she's okay. But don't go after her if you can't give her what she wants. She loves you. If you don't love her back, really love her, then let her go."

  I pushed out of my chair and went to the window, staring blindly out at the panoramic view of downtown Atlanta.

  Fucking hell. There was no way I was going to let Magnolia Henry out of my life. The problem was, love had always seemed like a trite word. A Valentine's Day, greeting card kind of thing. People threw it around all the time, as an excuse or a promise.

  I couldn't tell you how many times some woman who barely knew me had said, But Vance, I love you. What I had with Magnolia was so much bigger than that. It was more. She was everything. My closest friend. My partner. She was home. She was my heart.

  Fuck.

  They were right. I'd been a dick. I was distracted by Rosie, and everything with Magnolia was so easy. I was happy, she seemed happy, and Rosie was happy. In my world, everything was good. No, fuck that, everything hadn't been good. Everything had been fucking amazing.

  Spending my days with Magnolia, working with her, hanging out with her, taking her to bed at night, and waking up next to her in the morning.

  Fucking perfection.

  And it k
illed to know that the whole time, she'd been feeling scared and unloved. God dammit. I'd just assumed we were fine. Assumed we had time to figure out the hard stuff later. This was completely new territory for me. My problem was usually how to get rid of a woman, not how to win one back.

  Aiden had called it. I had no idea what I was doing. My years of experience with women might serve me well when I took Magnolia to bed, but when it came to her heart, I was as clumsy as a child.

  "Why didn't I just tell her I loved her?" I asked no one in particular. It appeared that my cousins were done giving me shit because neither of them said anything.

  Not until Aiden commented, "It certainly would've solved a lot of problems if you had."

  I ignored him. To Charlotte, I said, "Do you know where she is?"

  "No. She wouldn't tell me. She said she doesn't want to see anyone."

  "Do you think you can get her to the show tomorrow?" I asked. Charlotte eyed me warily.

  "That depends," she said. "Are you going to fix this?"

  "I'm going to try," I said. "Will you help me?"

  "I'll watch Rosie," Aiden offered, standing up from behind his desk and taking Rosie from Charlotte's arms. "I'll bring her home to Mrs. Williamson and work from my office there. I have a light afternoon, and Mrs. Williamson would love an excuse to watch Rosalie."

  Charlotte stood and brushed her hands down her skirt. "Let me fix my hair and make a couple of calls. Then we'll get out of here. Whatever you've got in mind, Vance, it had better be good."

  I didn't have much of a plan. I hadn't had time to come up with one. All I had was determination and love. They would have to be enough.

  I was going to get Magnolia back. Rosie and I needed her.

  I was crap at relationships, but I knew Magnolia. No one could make her happy like I could. Now that I'd pried my head out of my ass, I just had to find a way to prove it to her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  MAGNOLIA

  I was hiding. Hiding and feeling sorry for myself. After storming out of the house, I'd jumped in my car and taken off, headed nowhere. A few minutes later, I'd pulled over into the parking lot of Starbucks. I was crying too hard to drive safely.

  I'd told Vance I didn't trust my judgment anymore. It was the most honest thing I'd said in a long time. I didn't trust my judgment. On anything. I would have sworn that Vance had feelings for me. I truly thought he loved me, at least a little.

  The blank look on his face when I'd asked him—I couldn't remember it without wanting to throw up. My life was a mess. I sat there for almost an hour, staring through the windshield of my car at the front window of Starbucks with no idea what to do.

  Vance called. I ignored him. He called again. And again. I didn't answer. There was nothing to say. His silence when I'd asked him if he loved me had been brutal. I couldn't bear to listen to his excuses. I was terrified he’d talk me into coming back, into settling for affection when I wanted love. It wasn't his fault if he didn't love me, but it would be mine if I accepted anything less than everything. That had been my mistake with Brayden. Settling.

  I finally texted him to make sure he was gone when I got back. Then I couldn't bring myself to go home. I ended up calling Charlie, dodging her questions and begging her to take care of Scout. I felt bad for abandoning him, but I just couldn't stand the idea of sitting alone in my house. When my grandmother had died, it had been so lonely. Letting Brayden move in had helped, but I knew it would be so much worse now that Vance and Rosie were gone. I couldn't face it yet.

  I drove down the street to the AC Hotel at Phipps Plaza and checked into a room. Between room service and the mall downstairs, I could hole up there forever. I was curled up on the king size bed in my room, watching the television screen flicker when my phone rang again. I was ready to ignore it, but the unfamiliar number caught my attention.

  "Hello?"

  "Maggie, it's Evers."

  "Evers, if Vance put you up to calling, you can just tell him to leave me alone."

  There was a long silence. "This has nothing to do with Vance," he said, and I realized his tone was all business. "I'm here at your house. The team finished with the system a few hours ago and left to get lunch. The system wasn't armed, but the motion activated video capture was turned on. They got an alert that someone was in the house, and when they pulled up the video to check the system, it wasn't you or Vance."

  "Who was it?" I asked, afraid I already knew what Evers would say.

  "It was your dickhead of an ex, Brayden. He has a key and claims you gave him permission to enter."

  "I did not," I said, furious. "Did he get into the house?"

  "He'd already entered by the time the team got back, but they caught him filling a backpack with small valuables. Have you had any trouble with things going missing?"

  I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "I took his key when we broke up. He must have had another," I said, stating the obvious. "Things have been going missing. I thought I was crazy, that I was just misplacing stuff."

  "Please tell me you want me to press charges," Evers said.

  "He's still there?" I asked.

  "We weren't going to let him walk after he broke into your house," Evers said. "You contracted with us to manage your security. We had permission to be in the house, and he's not on the list of residents. I'll call the police for you right now."

  "Yes, please. Absolutely call the police. Do I need to come back there? I'm . . . out for the day. I can if I have to, but—"

  "No, Maggie. You don't have to come back right now. I can handle everything for you."

  "Is Scout okay?" I was sure Evers would've said something if my dog had been hurt, but I had to make sure.

  "Your dog? He's a weird looking little guy, but he's fine. He was in the backyard. Not too crazy about having all of us in his space, and he really doesn't like your ex, but he's fine."

  "Charlie’s supposed to stop by at some point this afternoon and pick him up. She's keeping him overnight. Can you make sure anyone who's there knows it's okay for her to take him?”

  "No problem, honey. We've got everything under control."

  "Thanks, Evers. Is there any way to track down the things he might've taken?"

  "Email me a description of what you know you're missing, and I'll get my guys on it."

  "I'd appreciate it," I said. "The only thing I'm really worried about is my grandmother's bracelet."

  "We'll find it. I promise." Softly, he said, "And Maggie?"

  "Yeah?" I asked, wary at his change in tone.

  "You had a fight with Vance?"

  "I don't want to talk about it," I said. I'd known Evers a long time, and he was a good guy, but he was Vance's friend first.

  He proved it by saying, "Yeah, I don't really want to talk about it either. Just listen. I know he can be a jackass, but be patient with him. He cares about you."

  That wasn't good enough for me. Not anymore. I didn't say that to Evers. I would love Evers forever if he could track down my grandmother's bracelet, and I was immensely grateful that he'd put in the security system that had caught Brayden stealing from me. But I was not talking to Evers about my disaster of a relationship with Vance.

  "Call me if you need anything from me," I said and hung up the phone. That was one problem solved. At least I knew I wasn't crazy. I hadn't lost my bracelet or the clock. I wondered if he’d been trying to get into the house the times he’d shown up claiming he wanted to talk to me. It was a great cover if he was caught lurking around. I was so stupid.

  Great job, Magnolia. Boyfriend number one is a cheating thief, and boyfriend number two basically made you the nanny and then talked his way into your bed.

  I was done with relationships. After emailing Evers a description of the things I thought were missing, I took a long bath and settled in on the bed to watch the Die Hard marathon that was currently playing on one of the hotel's movie channels. The universe must have known I was going to be nursing a broken
heart if it gave me hours of John McLane.

  When I'd broken up with Brayden, watching action movies and eating ice cream had seemed like the best way to soothe my bruised heart. Explosions and Bruce Willis weren't doing the trick this time. I found myself wiping my cheeks off and on as the time passed, tears leaking from my eyes as I tried to ignore the heavy weight on my chest.

  I thought about ignoring Charlie when she called, but she had my dog. I didn't really want to talk to anyone, but she was doing me a favor by taking Scout for the night. I'd feel terrible if something was wrong and I didn't answer.

  "Hey, Charlie. Is Scout okay?" I asked.

  "He's fine. Aiden has him in the backyard, trying to wear him out with the tennis ball."

  "That won’t take long,” I said. Before she could say anything, I went on. "I don't want to talk, Charlie. No offense."

  "I'm not going to make you talk about my shithead cousin. Promise. I was only calling to see what you're going to do about the show tomorrow."

  The show. Vance's show at Sloane's gallery. I'd completely forgotten it was the next day. Crap. I would rather be coated in honey and strapped to the top of a fire ant hill than go to that show.

  "I'm not going to the show," I said.

  "Maggie, you have to go to the show. You're responsible for setting it up."

  "I am not. It's mostly Sloane's work. It's her gallery."

  "You know what I mean. You've been working on this for six months. You can't stay home. And you can't spend the rest of your life hiding out."

  "I know that," I snapped. "But can't I have a few goddamn days to wallow before I have to get out there and act like a human being again?"

  "No," Charlie said. "If it weren't for the show, then I'd say sure. I’d tell you to pack a few bikinis, go on vacation, and suck back pretty drinks with umbrellas in them until you can't remember his name anymore. But if you don't go to that show tomorrow, every single person you know is going to be talking about it. Do you want them feeling sorry for you?"

  "I don't care what those people think," I said.