The Trouble with Billionaires (Southern Billionaires Book 1)

by Michelle Pennington

  “Ah. I bet he was gone all the time,” she said with unnerving shrewdness.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, Lanelle,” Paul said. He grabbed hold of his wife’s pudgy arm and towed her to the front door. “Don’t you want to be invited over again?”

  Charlotte smiled and said goodnight as they left. When she got back to the kitchen, the back door swung open and Taylor ran in. The door slammed behind him, but Charlotte was happy to see the red in his cheeks from exercise and the sparkle in his eyes, so she didn’t get on to him for not closing it softly.

  He leaned his bat against the wall and dropped his new glove and ball next to it. “What’s for dinner, Mom? I’m starving.”

  “Well, luckily our neighbors brought over a casserole. Wasn’t that nice?”

  “What’s a casserole?” he asked.

  It was a fair question since he’d never had one before, but Charlotte knew her grandma and a whole generation of southern women were spinning in their graves.

  Chapter Two

  Nate pulled up in front of Preston Tilman’s house and put his truck in park.

  “Thanks for the shoes, Coach,” Preston said as he unbuckled and jumped out with his new pair of cleats clutched in his skinny arms. “See you at practice.”

  “You bet,” Nate replied. He waved at Preston’s mom, Justine, who’d come out on her porch, then put his truck in drive and rolled off before she could come over to thank him. Justine was newly divorced and looked at him like he was a piece of chocolate she wanted to bite into.

  As he drove home, he couldn’t shake the irritation that lingered since leaving the store. Most of it was directed at himself. He’d handled the situation at the sporting goods store all wrong. And then he’d been rude when it didn’t go the way he wanted. Hopefully, she’d forgive him when he apologized—which he planned to do the next time he saw her. And in a small town like Chester, there was no way he wouldn’t see her again. Especially since her son was playing t-ball.

  As these thoughts rumbled through his head, he pulled through the ornate wrought iron gate at the front of his driveway as the security guard opened it electronically. He drove around the circular drive and stopped in front of his house, a stately old plantation home he’d been restoring for the last three years. Anxious to get back to work, he tossed the size thirteen cleats in the back seat and strode inside, determined to shake off his bad mood. Work. He needed work.

  “Sam!” he called, his voice echoing through the grand foyer.

  Within moments, his personal assistant, Samuel Gardner walked in. “Yes, Mr. Haverton?”

  “Remember that meeting in Tampa I canceled?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I want to do it after all. Can you arrange it?”

  “Of course. For when?”

  “First thing tomorrow. We can fly over tonight. And let’s go over all the month-end reports on the way.”

  Sam looked surprised but nodded and turned to make arrangements.

  Nate took a deep breath. Focusing his energy on something productive should cure his irritation. As he climbed the grand staircase, running his hand along the gleaming handrail, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his jeans pocket and saw it was Alexa Morrill. He hadn’t talked to her since he’d been her date at a movie premiere a few weeks ago.

  “Alexa! Just the person to cheer me up.”

  “What’s wrong, Nate? Did you finally get bored in that backwater home of yours?”

  “No. I’m just in a bad mood.”

  “Well, I have the perfect cure for that,” Alexa said, her voice as smooth as the glossy rail beneath his hand.

  “What? I’m up for anything.” Then, remembering some of her more shocking escapades, he corrected himself. “Almost anything.”

  “How about having dinner with me?”

  “What? It’s seven o’clock right now. Where in the world are you?” With Alexa, she could be on the other side of the Pacific expecting him to fly over to meet her.

  “I’m twenty minutes away from your house, darling. I’m floating between meetings in New York and LA, so I thought I’d come down and visit you until I fly out tomorrow. Are you surprised?”

  Nate chuckled. “You always surprise me. But you’re lucky I’m home. I was going to fly to Tampa tonight.”

  “I could go with you, if you want,” she offered. “And my meeting in LA can be put off if you’d like me to stay longer.”

  “No, you’d be bored out of your skull. I’ll have to stack my meetings back to back if I’m going to clear room on my schedule before t-ball starts since I’m coaching.”

  “What in the world is t-ball?”

  Nate laughed, knowing Alexa wouldn’t be at all interested. “I’ll tell you over dinner. See you in a few minutes.”

  He hung up and turned back toward the office. “Hey, Sam. Postpone Tampa till Wednesday.”

  A loud sigh came from Sam’s office down the hall. “Yes, Mr. Haverton.”

  Nate ran upstairs to his bedroom suite to change into slacks and a button-down shirt, knowing Alexa was likely dressed up. He’d never seen her anything less than glamorous. Then he went to the kitchen to let his cook, Sarah, know that Alexa would be joining him for dinner. Alexa was the kind of guest it was best to prepare your staff for. As he walked past the floor-to-ceiling picture windows that lined the front of the house, he saw a black convertible pulling through the security gate at the end of the drive.

  As he walked out to greet Alexa, he paused on the veranda. It was that magical hour where the world was gilded by the last rays of light. He’d seen sunsets all around the world, but this was his favorite view. The stately Cyprus trees draped in Spanish moss, the ancient magnolia tree at the end of the drive, and beyond, the water tower standing sentinel over the only place that had ever felt like home.

  “Nate, darling,”

  Alexa’s voice pulled his attention away. He smiled as he moved down the steps to meet her by her car. He leaned down, planning to kiss her on the cheek, but Alexa turned her head and kissed the corner of his mouth instead. They often attended social events as the other’s date, but they’d never moved into a physical relationship. Was she hinting that she was interested in doing so?

  “Nate, you look positively fierce. Are you worried I got lipstick on you? Don’t worry. This stuff doesn’t come off.”

  He raised an eyebrow, eyeing her blood red lips. “Well, that’s certainly impressive. Pretty convenient too.”

  She laughed and went up the steps ahead of him. “Oh, it is. I won a bet with it last week.”

  “Really? That’s got to be a good story.”

  “My friend Naomi bet me that her boyfriend, who is French, could kiss it off. We had five thousand dollars riding on the issue, and Naomi told him he could have the winnings, so he certainly put forth his best effort. But, he couldn’t get it off my lips.”

  Nate paused. “Wait, your lips?”

  Alexa rolled her eyes. “Well, I was the one wearing the lipstick, darling.”

  Nate chuckled, and held the front door open for her. She walked ahead of him and dropped her purse, keys, and sunglasses on the entry table. “When do we eat? I want to freshen up.”

  “As soon as you’re ready.”

  “Just a minute then. I won’t keep you waiting.”

  Alexa knew her way around his house, and disappeared down the hall to the bathroom. Nate waited patiently for her to return, checking emails on his phone. When she returned, she smiled at him and tucked her hand around his arm. “I must say, I do love the casual atmosphere here. It’s so relaxing.”

  “I think so,” Nate said, curious as to why Alexa was suddenly showing all this affection. Not that he minded. She was a beautiful, entertaining woman. But as he led her into the dining room and helped her into a chair, he felt as if all his senses were on alert.

  As he sat down across from her, his cook, Sara, came in with a tray of drinks—sweet iced tea for him and a glass of sparkling water for Alexa. Smiling at
Sara, Nate took a long drink. “Thanks. I was parched. What’s for dinner tonight?”

  “Meatloaf, just as you ordered.”

  “Perfect,” Nate said. Sara made the best meatloaf he’d ever had.

  “Meat-loaf?” Alexa asked, enunciating the word as if it was two, both of them disgusting.

  Nate paused, remembering that Alexa had vastly different tastes than he did. “Sara, what do you have that might tempt Alexa’s appetite?”

  Sara kept her expression smooth, but Nate knew her well enough to see the hint of disdain in her eyes. “I have some well-marbled ribeye steaks.”

  Instead of answering Sara, Alexa said, “Nate, you know I don’t eat beef. Ever.”

  “What else, Sara?”

  “We have fresh mahi filets.” Alexa wrinkled her patrician nose, so Sara continued. “Or I could make an omelet and salad.”

  Alexa sat back in her chair. “That would be perfect. Egg whites only, please.”

  Sara nodded and slipped from the room.

  “Where is Marco?” Alexa asked. “He’s the best chef you’ve ever had.”

  Knowing Sara could likely hear from the kitchen, Nate said, “Nonsense. Sara is a treasure, and Marco stays in Tampa for when I entertain business associates there. He’s probably lounging by the pool and getting fatter than ever—at least, when he’s not wowing the critics in his exclusive restaurant downtown. He’s happy, I assure you. He was miserable here.”

  “Well, of course he was. As much as I love you, Nate, I can’t stay in this town for longer than a day or two. No place to eat or shop. There’s not even a decent salon. Remember all the trouble I had last time I was here and broke my nail trying to open the French doors?”

  Nate nodded, remembering. That had been an interesting day, making a trip into Mobile because of a fingernail. They’d ended up at some party or other in a high rise over-looking the bay. Alexa had a nose for finding entertainment. As the daughter of one of his business partners, she’d been born with nothing to do in life but enjoy herself. And she usually tried to pull him away from his work to join her, which was the reason he liked having her around. She helped him relax.

  “Well, let me open all the doors for you from now on. How long are you staying?”

  “Well, that depends. Can I sleep here this time? I don’t think I can stand more than one night in the Magnolia Inn. The wallpaper is older than I am.”

  Nate laughed but shook his head. “You know how I feel about that. Around here, people get ideas if you have a woman stay the night.”

  “Would it be so terrible if people thought we were together? I mean, we kind of are, aren’t we? Together I mean.”

  His suspicions were right. Admittedly, a part of him would be willing to pursue what she was so obviously offering, but he knew it wasn’t a good idea to make any kind of commitment.

  “Perhaps, though only as good friends. Maybe more than friends—I don’t know. But, Alexa, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt. My business concerns don’t allow me much of a personal life.”

  Alexa’s red lips dipped into a frown. “And yet you’re making time for, what is it called? Ski-ball?”

  Nate smiled. “No, t-ball. But if I can’t make a practice, I can call one of the other parents to take over. No one can take over for me in a relationship when I can’t be there.”

  “Well that’s really narrowminded of you, darling,” Alexa said.

  Nate raised his brows, but saw from her smile that she was teasing him. “Yes, when it comes to that sort of relationship, I’m extremely narrowminded. But do you see my point?”

  “Yes, but I understand your commitments. I have them too after all. I thought maybe we could help each other…be a little less alone when we aren’t working ourselves to death.”

  Sara brought in their dinner, and as she served it, Nate let his eyes linger over Alexa’s familiar features. She was beautiful, independent and sophisticated. Any man would be lucky to have her. “That sounds nice. What do you have in mind?”

  “I could come visit more often. Oh, and we could have a dinner party at your place in Tampa—get all our friends together.”

  “Sounds fun,” Nate said, focusing on his dinner. “If I can find time in my schedule.”

  Alexa raised an eyebrow and sighed dramatically. “You’re impossible.”

  Chapter Three

  Arriving at the town’s little league baseball fields, Charlotte looked around, amazed at how nice they were. Worn out houses lined the streets of this neighborhood. Some even had rusty cars on blocks sitting in the over-grown yards, with lots of other junk laying around. But everything about this park was top-notch—green, manicured grass, shiny metal fences, and smooth, red-dirt infields with perfectly painted lines. How did a small town like Chester have a park like this?

  “Come on, Mom. Why’d you stop?” Taylor pulled on her hand.

  He had a point. They were already late for practice.

  She looked around, trying to figure out where to go since there were teams on all three fields. Taylor was supposed to go to the southwest field, but she didn’t have a built-in compass like some people did.

  “I’m guessing this is Taylor Mabry.”

  Charlotte spun and saw the man from the sporting goods store leaning against the dugout. She groaned softly. This wasn’t good. “Yes. Is he on your team?”

  “Looks that way. Hey, buddy. Come on through. We’ll get you sorted out.”

  Taylor ran towards the gate and Charlotte faced the man. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize her.

  He held his hand out to her. “I’m Nate Haverton. I had a feeling your son would be on my team.”

  She shook his hand, and forgot to respond. The contact with his warm, slightly calloused skin was doing strange things to her sensory systems. She pulled her hand back, rubbing her fingers together as if it might dispel the sensation, and said, “I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t remember me.”

  “Well, you made quite an impression.” He pressed his lips together and the muscles in his jaw flexed. After a brief pause, he said, “And I’m afraid I did too. I’m sorry for the whole thing.”

  Charlotte studied him closely, and felt the sincerity of his apology. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  Nate nodded and his shoulders dropped as if he was relieved. “So, you just moved in, huh?”

  “A few days ago.”

  “Well, we’re glad to have you.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Haverton.”

  “Nate.”

  He smiled, and Charlotte wondered why so much male beauty had been concentrated on this one, aggravating male. Well, maybe he was less aggravating now that he’d apologized. She felt an urge to keep him talking and latched on to the first excuse her dizzy brain came up with. “I’d better warn you that Taylor has never played t-ball before. He’ll probably need a lot of coaching.”

  “Your husband hasn’t worked with him any?” Nate asked, his eyes darting towards her hand.

  “Ex-husband.” Charlotte raised her left hand and wiggled her bare fingers. “And no. He doesn’t spend any more time with Taylor than he has to. I would help him, but I’m terrible. Worse than terrible in fact—a danger to others.”

  Nate grinned, and Charlotte nearly melted to a puddle in her shoes.

  “He’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Thanks,” Charlotte said, smiling as she forced herself to walk away.

  She made her way over to the bleachers where the other parents were sitting. Two women sat on the front row, talking up a storm. A couple sat near the top, and a few other parents were sitting on folding chairs along the fence, facing out to the field. As she passed the women on the front row, she could feel their eyes on her, and they stopped talking.

  She had to make friends sooner or later, so she met their eyes and smiled before climbing up a few rows to sit behind them.

  The petite one on the end turned around and said, “Hey there, honey. Don’t mind us lookin’ you over. We’re just nosy
like that.”

  Charlotte chuckled. “It’s alright. That’s what I get for being new in town.”

  “Yeah, and for being so pretty. Look at you. I swear you could be a model.”

  The tall blonde next to her laughed. “No wonder Nate Haverton couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

  “We were talking about my son, Taylor,” Charlotte said, very aware that she was blushing. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice her reaction.

  “Well, I saw you make sure he knew you were single.” The woman waved her the fingers on her left hand around like Charlotte had done a few minutes ago. “And I don’t blame you one bit. Bless me, but that man is fine.”

  The women burst out laughing. Had they been watching the whole time? “No, I wasn’t—”

  But before she could explain, the lady said, “Don’t worry, honey. I’m teasing. I’m Delynn. My boy is that gawky thing out there with his cap on backwards.”

  The first one who spoke to her said, “I’m Misty. Mine’s the short kid out there picking his nose.”

  Sure enough, a short, big-cheeked kid was mining for gold while he waited for his turn at bat.

  “Brady,” Misty yelled out, “You cut that out or I’ll jerk a knot in your tail.”

  The boy’s head jerked towards the bleachers and he stuck his hand behind his back like he was hiding it.

  “I’m Charlotte Mabry. Maybe you knew my grandma, Anne Goldman? I inherited her house, so my son and I moved in a few days ago.”

  “Everybody knew Mrs. Goldman. Are you divorced?”

  This lady cut right to the chase. “Yeah. For over a year now.”

  Delynn gave her half a smile full of sympathy. “I’m sorry things worked out that way for you. Don’t let it ruin you for men though. I’m on my second husband, and he’s not perfect either, but much better than the first.”

  Misty gestured toward Nate with her thumb. “We got a prize bull right here in town if you’re interested. Poor Justine isn’t going to like the competition.”

  Glancing over to where Nate was adjusting the tee for one of the kids, Charlotte asked, “He’s single? But I saw him in the sporting goods store with a little boy.”