Secret Billionaire on Her Doorstep

by Michelle Douglas

  That woman being Frances, he presumed.

  He did what he could to drag a steadying breath into his lungs. ‘Callie, I know you feel betrayed, but can’t you see that Frances was as much a victim of Richard’s manipulations as your mother?’

  ‘Really?’ She folded her arms and stuck out a hip. ‘Tell me how you’d feel if this situation ever occurred between your mother and Lissy?’

  His head rocked back.

  ‘What? You don’t think it could ever happen?’

  ‘Not while Jack’s alive,’ he croaked.

  She glanced away. He saw the way her fingers dug into her upper arms and was afraid she’d leave bruises.

  ‘Callie, both Donna and Frances were wrong about Richard—but, like you said, everyone makes mistakes in love. Frances paid a heavy price for hers.’

  ‘She chose a man over her own daughter—her own flesh and blood. I wouldn’t expect my mother to ever forgive her, and what’s more I don’t blame her. I don’t forgive her either.’

  ‘It’s not your injury to forgive.’

  She blinked.

  ‘The harm was done to your mother, not you. But that’s beside the point. I just don’t want you making a decision you might come to regret once you’ve had a chance to mull things over and think about it with a clearer head.’

  She slammed her hands to her hips. ‘If I follow your logic, I should give Richard the benefit of the doubt too. After all, maybe he just made a mistake as well?’

  In her anger, she was twisting his words. ‘We both know the man is a predator—’ his hands clenched ‘—a loathsome worm.’

  ‘Exactly. And maybe Frances was too!’

  With a superhuman effort, he reined in his temper. Callie was in shock and lashing out.

  ‘Until today you’d started to develop a fondness for Frances. You know she wasn’t all bad. She was duped by a cad who—’ he searched his mind for a way to reach her ‘—stole her power.’

  She pointed a finger at him. ‘That’s exactly what I’m trying to get back—my power. I refuse to let Frances or Richard or...or anyone else stop me from doing that.’

  Including him? Was that what she meant? Was that what she thought he was trying to do?

  ‘Dominic stole my power when he had me fired.’

  ‘You weren’t fired!’ He didn’t know why he yelled the words, knew only that he couldn’t help himself. ‘Your contract wasn’t renewed. There’s a difference.’

  ‘A mere technicality!’ She hitched up her chin. ‘You want to know why he did it?’

  She’d gone so suddenly still his mouth went dry. ‘Why?’

  ‘He applied for the same job on the Australian version of Mystery Family Trees that I’m applying for here in the States.’

  He froze, presentiment trailing an icy finger down his spine.

  ‘When he didn’t get the job, I tried to cheer him up by telling him he was an amazing researcher and a wonderful lecturer and that he already had a dream job.’ Her lips twisted. ‘I didn’t realise how much he festered over that. Unbeknownst to me he took it as a sop to his ego, a meaningless banality that proved I didn’t understand him. So he took my dream job away from me so I’d know exactly how it felt.’

  Nausea rolled through him. ‘What a despicable thing to have done. But—’

  ‘When he finds out I’ve landed the job he coveted...’

  Her eyes narrowed in what he assumed was imagined satisfaction, but a moment later she shook herself.

  ‘My application needs to be in by the end of the week. I don’t care if you approve or not, Owen, I’m putting what I found out today in my documentary.’

  He ignored that. If she wanted to include Richard’s shocking revelation that was her business, but... ‘The TV job...’ acid burned his stomach ‘...it isn’t your dream job?’

  She frowned. ‘I never said it was. I just said I wanted it badly.’

  He tried to get his head around what she was telling him. ‘I thought...’

  Revenge. His stomach dropped. This was all about revenge. She’d told him so in the lawyer’s office the first day they’d met. He’d been a fool to forget it.

  ‘So all this effort has been directed at getting back at a man who isn’t worth the time of day rather than actually scoring your perfect job?’

  She glared at him. ‘It’s about getting my power back.’

  ‘This isn’t about your power! If it was about power you’d be putting your best efforts into finding your real dream job—there’s more than one university out there.’ He felt himself go icy cold. ‘This is about getting even. Which means you’re hurting yourself more than you’ll ever be hurting Dominic.’

  Her nostrils flared. ‘What do you know about anything? You’ve known me for a month. That doesn’t make you an expert on what I want or need.’

  ‘I know you love spending time with young people and helping them find their way forward, like you have with Lissy and the girls you’ve been tutoring. I know you like taking Barney for walks in the park because he always picks someone to demand pats from and that gives you an excuse to sit down and chat with a perfect stranger. You like connecting with people, Callie. Sure, you enjoy research. But for heaven’s sake, you became best buds with four of the librarians you met at the public library. History is a living, breathing thing for you—not something dry and dusty and impersonal.’

  Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. She folded her arms and thrust out her chin, but the martial expression had started to drain from her eyes.

  A hard ball lodged beneath his breastbone. ‘And if you think you’re going to get a chance to indulge your personal touch in this TV job then you’re in for a rude awakening. You’ll be working months ahead of schedule in heaven only knows what part of the country—probably racing here and there to find out the necessary answers. And as far as the producers are concerned, the juicier those answers are the better. You’ll probably never even get to meet the people whose family trees you’re tracing. You certainly won’t be the one softening the blow of shocking or confrontational news.’

  She stared at him, visibly at a loss for words.

  His chest cramped, making his breath come hard and sharp. ‘Are you still in love with him?’

  ‘With who?’ Her eyes widened. ‘Dominic? No! Why would you even ask such a thing?’

  ‘Because all this effort you’re going to—it’s as if you’re seeking his attention.’

  Her lips thinned. ‘You couldn’t be more wrong if you tried.’

  ‘So it’s about pride? He hurt your pride and now you want to get even and hurt his.’ Couldn’t she see how personally destructive that was?

  Her eyes went cold and remote. ‘You’re starting to sound like just another man who’s happy to tell a woman how wrong she is, how she’s got her head into a silly little muddle, but never mind he’ll fix it all for her—a man who’s happy to steal a woman’s power!’

  He rocked back on his heels, the injustice of her words burning through him. ‘If that’s what you think, then we have nothing else to discuss.’

  She paled, and he immediately regretted the words.

  ‘I didn’t mean that. Callie, I...’

  She pulled in a breath that made her whole body shudder. ‘I know you’re not like that.’ Some of the steel went out of her. ‘Not really.’

  What the hell did she mean, not really?

  ‘I think you’re angry because I refuse to see Frances through the same rose-coloured glasses you do,’ she said.

  He had to clamp his teeth against an angry retort. He didn’t see Frances through rose-coloured glasses. He’d known her. And, despite what Callie thought, Frances had been a wonderful woman.

  ‘You’re judging Frances based on one mistake. You’re not judging the whole woman. You’re shutting your mind off to everything
else she stood for.’

  She gave a harsh laugh. ‘You feel it’s your duty to see her wishes through, but I’m not the least bit interested in accepting her blood money.’

  His jaw started to ache.

  ‘When it comes right down to it, Owen, who would you choose—Frances or me?’

  The world felt as if it was suddenly spinning out of control, and he had no hope of preventing the collision that was about to happen. ‘Do I have to make a choice? Because I will never be able to hate Frances.’ His chest ached. ‘So if that’s what you’re asking of me...’

  ‘It’s not.’ She stared at him with troubled eyes. ‘Yet I won’t be able to do anything other than loathe her.’

  The ache in his chest radiated outwards.

  She pressed her hands together, swallowed and gave a tiny but decisive nod. ‘I told you this was a really bad time for me to get involved with anyone.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ His words were nothing more than a croak.

  Her voice wobbled. ‘I’m applying for this job, Owen, whether you approve or not. And I’m not going to accept my inheritance. Can you live with that?’

  He opened his mouth to argue with her further.

  ‘One thing I do know for sure, Owen, is that I couldn’t live with your silent disapproval and disappointment every time you looked at me. If you can’t talk to me about Frances, and I can’t talk to you about my work...’

  ‘You’re saying we’re through?’

  Her eyes filled, but her chin remained firm. ‘I don’t see that there’s any other option.’

  She didn’t? He felt as if he’d been turned to ice.

  ‘There’s another option, Callie, but if you don’t see it then you’re right—there’s nothing here worth saving.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A KNOCK SOUNDED on her door the following morning and Callie raced to answer it.

  Owen.

  She stared at him and her heart pounded in her chest like a wild thing. She wanted him to take her in his arms, tell her he was sorry about their fight, and kiss her. She wanted him to tell her there was another way, and that their relationship wasn’t doomed before it had even started. She wanted him to tell her he loved her.

  The revelation knocked her sideways. Her fingers closed around the frame of the door in a death grip to keep her upright.

  He did none of those things. He stood there stiffly, staring back at her with eyes that burned—as if she’d dealt him a mortal blow when it was him who was trying to control her and her choices. Her eyes stung and her throat ached. She wasn’t letting anyone take her power away again, regardless of how much she liked them—loved them.

  His nostrils flared. ‘I came to make sure you’re okay after yesterday.’

  Of course she wasn’t okay! They’d had the worst fight in the history of the world and—

  ‘Finding out Richard is your father must’ve been the most awful shock.’

  Oh, that. Her shoulders ached with the effort of keeping them from crumpling. ‘I’m fine.’

  He looked far from convinced.

  ‘I never expected to like my father and I was right. I never harboured any secret fantasies that he’d be a good guy. It’s just now I know the truth.’

  He shoved his hands into his pockets, his shoulders as stiff and uncompromising as the line of his mouth. ‘I wanted to let you know that if you need anything you can still rely on me.’

  Yeah, like that was going to happen. She folded her arms across a chest that felt blown open and shattered. ‘Thank you.’ She was careful to keep her voice neutral and polite. ‘Is there anything else?’ If he wasn’t going to kiss her, she wanted him gone.

  ‘I’m still the executor of Frances’s will, Callie. I thought it only fair to warn you that I’ve no intention of sanctioning any decisions you make in relation to your inheritance for the next fortnight—to give you time to think things over.’

  All the brokenness in her chest filled with anger and it felt good. ‘Two things, Owen!’

  His mouth whitened at her tone and she told herself she was glad.

  ‘One: you don’t get to approve or disapprove of my decisions. You don’t have the authority to decide what is and isn’t in my best interests. Who the hell do you think you are?’

  His head rocked back. His entire body rocked back.

  ‘Two: you have no say in what I do with my inheritance. You don’t have an atom of control over it. End of story. It’s mine to do with as I please and you get zero input in that. As far as my portion of Frances’s estate is concerned, you were its executor. Past tense.’

  It took an effort of will not to slam the door in his face. She wouldn’t descend to that kind of rudeness. But, seriously, the hide of the man!

  ‘So, what?’ His eyes flashed. ‘You’re going to sell this building out from beneath me as a form of revenge?’ His hands slammed to his hips. ‘Because revenge is your MO, right?’

  His words sucked the air from her lungs. ‘My what?’

  ‘Revenge...it’s what you do. You’re going for the TV job as revenge on Dominic. You’re throwing your inheritance away as revenge on Frances.’

  ‘Those things are different. And if you can’t see that then you’re an idiot—a huge, big, amazingly dumb idiot!’ She might be above slamming the door in his face but she wasn’t above slinging insults. ‘Dominic deliberately undermined me—he set out on purpose to hurt me. Frances betrayed my mother. And in doing so some could argue she deprived me of my father. Mind you, I’m tempted to thank her for that...but, however you want to view it, what she did was terrible.’

  Owen opened his mouth, but she carried on over his protests.

  ‘What happened between us was a love affair gone wrong.’

  He stilled.

  ‘Neither of us is winning. Neither of us is getting what they want. We have a difference of opinion that can’t be surmounted. End of story.’ Every word was a knife to her heart. ‘I can’t help feeling the way I feel, and you can’t help feeling the way you feel.’

  His eyes burned but he said nothing.

  ‘You’re not deliberately trying to hurt me and I’m not deliberately trying to hurt you. After all, you can’t help being a jerk.’

  The pulse at the base of his jaw pounded.

  ‘But I made a deal with you and I mean to keep it. If you want to buy this apartment block, it’s yours.’ Another thought occurred to her. ‘Do you want the video footage that you created for me back?’

  ‘No.’

  Fine. ‘Is there anything else?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She raised her eyebrow in that way, because she knew he hated it. And because it was better than bursting into tears.

  ‘Your inheritance isn’t blood money, Callie, and it’s not an apology. It’s a gift of love.’

  She took a step back. ‘Difference. Of. Opinion.’

  She was careful to enunciate every word before slamming the door in his face. Because, apparently, she wasn’t above that kind of rudeness after all.

  * * *

  Callie didn’t clap eyes on Owen for the next two days.

  ‘Which is exactly how I like it,’ she muttered, kicking the apartment door shut behind her after returning from her daily visit to Mr Singh.

  Dropping her coat to the floor, she unwound her scarf and dropped it to the floor too. It was freezing today. The weather in New York made no sense to her. Yesterday had been warm. Today was Arctic.

  Ha! Hot and cold. Just like Owen.

  Speaking of which...

  ‘I don’t care if I never see the jerk ever again.’

  Which was a lie. A big fat lie. And pretending otherwise wasn’t helping her feel any better.

  Her phone pinged as a text came in—her mum, asking if Callie wanted a video chat.

  She and he
r mother had video-called at least once a week since she’d arrived in New York. They’d been careful to skirt around the subject of Frances and the inheritance. Callie had mentioned that she and Owen had taken a trip to Cooperstown, but she hadn’t mentioned Ellerslie. She’d chatted away instead about her impressions of New York, and filled her conversation with news of Barney and Mr Singh, the girls she’d been tutoring, Lissy...and Owen.

  She’d not spoken with her mother since her visit with Richard.

  She hesitated and then texted back.

  Just logging on to my computer now.

  ‘Darling,’ her mother started the moment she flickered into view on the screen, ‘it’s so good to see you. I—What’s wrong?’

  Callie’s jaw dropped. ‘How do you do that? I haven’t even spoken a single word yet. And I’m smiling!’

  ‘Your smile is strained, honey. Besides, the apartment is a mess when normally you’re so tidy. What really gives the game away is your coat, lying on the floor as if it’s just been dropped there. I know how long it took you to save up for that coat, and how much you love it. So something has to be wrong.’

  Callie glanced behind her and with a muttered oath raced across to pick up both her coat and scarf. Shaking the creases out, she hung them on the coat rack before returning to the computer.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ she tried to say. ‘I’m just feeling out of sorts. The weather has turned frigid here and it’s making me homesick.’

  From ten thousand miles away, she could quite literally see the blood drain from her mother’s face.

  ‘You’ve found out the truth, haven’t you?’

  That Owen is a jerk, a pompous prat...just another controlling male who—

  ‘You know everything!’ Donna’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘About Frances...about why I left and...everything.’

  ‘Oh, that?’ Callie waved a dismissive hand through the air. ‘I’ve learned a lot about Frances in the past few weeks. But I visited Richard last weekend and he filled me in on the missing piece I’d been looking for. I mean...you did know I was looking, right? I know we never spoke about it, but you know me, and I figured...’