Billionaire's Best Woman - A Standalone Novel (A Billionaire Wedding Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #5)

by Claire Adams

  “I feel like we should be doing something,” he said.

  “Dean said he was taking care of it,” I told him.

  “Yeah, but what if you were right? What if we just left?”

  I wanted to punch Luke in the throat. He hadn’t said anything like that when Dean was trying to convince us—me, actually: Luke didn’t need any convincing—to help him out with his plan.

  “I think we’ve passed the point where we can just pick up and leave. They know about me, and they sure as hell know about you. We’re stuck in this thing until it’s over, one way or another,” I told him.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said as he gingerly lowered himself onto the couch.

  We didn’t speak much the rest of the night. On the following days, Luke and I went to work together, sat until it was time to go home, and then waited for a chance to do it again.

  On the morning of the fifth day, Luke drove me to the office. Dean was already there. He’d called just before we left, saying he’d meet us in the parking lot when we arrived. When we pulled up, there he was. I figured it was going to be an update, or he was going to reveal another part of the plan. All he said, though, was, “The two of you are doing great. Just hang in there a little while longer and we’ll be through this.”

  “We’re not doing anything,” I muttered.

  “What?” Dean asked.

  “We’re not doing anything!” I shouted. “You say you can protect us, but all you’re doing is holding us prisoner! How is this our best option‽”

  “Marce, calm down,” Luke said.

  Dean started, “I know it’s hard and it doesn’t seem like you’re doing a whole lot right now, but—”

  “But what?” I shot back. “You said you needed us to stick by you, well that’s what we’re doing, but I don’t feel any safer and I sure as hell don’t feel any closer to being free of any of this!” Luke reached out his hand to put it on my shoulder, but I jerked away from him, shouting, “Don’t touch me!” as I moved past both men and the security guys around us as I made my way alone inside and up to the executive floor.

  It was the same hurry up and wait it had been ever since Dean drove me through Yonkers. I wasn’t in a position to simply leave. Like I told Luke, it was too late for that.

  That didn’t mean I had to be happy about anything. I sat in Luke’s office that morning. Luke didn’t take any appointments or drop-ins, so it was just minute after teeth-grinding minute of waiting.

  Dean invited both Luke and I to lunch, but I told him me and my brother already had plans. He seemed taken aback, but all he said was, “I’ll send some fresh guys with you.”

  By the time Luke and I got to the restaurant, the half of Dean’s team that wasn’t escorting us had already set up a perimeter and the man in the driver’s seat with the crew cut said there were a couple of guys in the restaurant, too. We went in and got a table. Dean must have been using fresh guys because I didn’t recognize anyone in the place.

  We’d just ordered our drinks when Luke excused himself to the bathroom. My stupid, trusting brother. It baffled me that a few months before, I’d been just as naïve and ready to hand everything over to Dean Carrick as Luke was then.

  “Excuse me, miss?” a woman’s voice asked. I turned to find a waitress standing over me. “Are you Marcy?”

  “Yes. Why do you ask?” I returned.

  “There’s a call for you up front.”

  “Did they say who it is?”

  “No, but she did say it was urgent.”

  She. I had to dry my palms with the cloth napkin in front of me before, shaking, I got to my feet. Following the waitress to the front, I tried to breathe evenly, but my heart still felt like it was going to ram its way through my chest. The waitress motioned toward the cordless phone. My mouth was so dry I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to talk if I tried, but I picked up the phone and put it to my ear, anyway.

  “This is Marcy,” I said.

  There was no response. I looked at the phone. There wasn’t a live call. I managed to catch the waitress’s attention before she headed back into the bowels of the restaurant, asking, “Are you sure it was this phone? There’s no one on the line.”

  “Huh, she must’ve hung up,” she said and went back to her tables.

  I’d seen something like this on TV where they called a guy’s house, waited until he picked up so they knew he was home, and then…. But that was crazy. The phone was already off when I picked it up, and why would these people who had been so discreet risk doing something here in a crowded restaurant in the middle of the day?

  “Excuse me, are you Marcy Blair?” a new woman’s came from behind me.

  I spun around to find another waitress, or at least a woman dressed as a waitress. I didn’t answer her.

  “You came up here for a phone call, right? Well, your party called back to say they had some things to take care of, but she wanted me to give you her number,” the waitress explained, handing me an already-folded piece of paper.

  I peered at her. “Did she say who she was or why she was calling?”

  “No,” the waitress answered. “She just said she’d had to go, but wanted to make sure you had her number in case you’d like to get in touch.”

  I was scared, but mostly I was confused. Glancing back toward my table, I spotted Luke making his way back. I slipped the paper into my bra and got back to the table just as he was settling back in.

  “You, too, huh?” he asked. “Do they have that yellow hand soap in yours? I’m pretty sure it’s antibacterial, and you know they just outlawed that stuff, right? I don’t want MRSA.”

  “In your house, those two that beat you up and trashed the place…I know it was dark, but is there any chance one of them was a woman?” I asked.

  “No,” he said. “They both spoke. They were both men. Why?”

  Just because it was a woman in Dean’s parking garage and a woman on the phone for me didn’t mean she was everywhere. It didn’t even mean it was the same woman. Still, I couldn’t get her out of my head. Hers was the only face put on the demons threatening me—hers and that mugshot of Izzy the Monster that had been all over the news since his arrest.

  I was quiet all during lunch and for the rest of the day. When we’d gotten back to the office, I’d excused myself and retrieved the phone number from its cushiony hiding spot, but I wasn’t going to call it where I could be heard.

  As I walked across the executive floor, I couldn’t recall seeing the backs of so many heads. Nobody would look at me. If any of us were ever asked, I was only here to visit my brother. Johanna had succeeded in getting hired on at the company, but her position was in a different building in a different city in another state. Her new salary was enough for her to go more quietly than she’d been while she was at headquarters.

  Dean was great at covering things up, I’d discovered. He had a particular talent for making himself come out looking sparkling shiny clean to everyone except those closest to him. I’d been with him long enough to know Luke and I were the only ones on the list—and we were just barely there. Even Luke, though, was still ready to believe Dean was his billionaire messiah and that the three of us would be laughing about all of this in Boca this time next week. He’d told me that last part, himself. I wasn’t nearly so convinced.

  As there was nothing for me to actually do, I walked right past Luke’s office and didn’t even traipse near Dean’s. I went to the stairwell. I was about to do something which gave me a chill all the way to my bones. It was the only thing for me to do, though. There was no choice left. Things were going to come to a head one way or another, and I knew I would be kidding myself if I thought it was going to be pleasant.

  So much had piled onto me in such a short period of time, I was being crushed under the weight. Dean had said he wanted to lighten the load, but he’d done a much better job of adding to it.

  My knees shook with every step up to the roof. When I got up there, I clenched my fis
ts, and I felt the cold wind on my skin. Everything was so cold up there. My heart was going ten times faster than my feet as I made my way to the edge of the building. The whole thing had been more than I’d bargained for. It was more than I could take just sitting there waiting for something to happen.

  I knew it was going to hurt Luke, and I knew it was going to hurt Dean, but I’d reached the end of my rope. Something had to change.

  I got to the ledge at the perimeter of the building and looked out over the city. It was a cloudy day, but it didn’t look like it would storm any time soon. It didn’t really matter, I guess.

  Taking one more breath, I slowly unclenched my hands. I took the folded piece of paper and held it up in front of me, gripping it tight as I read the numbers.

  I couldn’t believe it was going to be that simple.

  Just like that and everything could be over.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and punched in the numbers.

  As the phone started to ring, I let the paper bearing the phone number go and I watched it tumble through the breeze as a woman’s voice answered. “Marcy. So good to hear from you.”

  “If you are who I think you are, I just want out of this, me and my brother. I’m willing to do whatever it takes, but before you say anything else, I need your word that Luke and I are safe from here on out and that if I do what you want me to do, he and I are both free of everything.”

  “You and your brother were never our enemies,” the woman said simply. “All we want is for your boss to do what we need him to do. You help make that happen and we can forget about you and your brother, and yes, you have my word.”

  I took a deep breath. “What do you need me to do?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  My New Position

  The call went longer than I’d expected. The woman told me I’d never know her name, and the phone number I’d called wouldn’t work after our conversation was over. Then she instructed me to throw my phone over the side of the building when we were done. She said she’d know if I didn’t destroy it.

  “What we need you to do,” she’d said, “is stay close to Carrick. The trust he has in you is what’s going to save you and your brother.” She wanted me to convince Dean to “do the right thing.” I got the impression that failure wasn’t a viable option.

  Dean’s security guys were always around, though. I doubt they would have followed Dean and I into his bedroom—or mine for that matter—but I didn’t want to take the chance someone without Dean’s trust in me might see through the act. I needed some time alone with him, somewhere it could be just the two of us.

  That night, I talked Luke into going out for dinner. He was exhausted from being both injured and at the office all day, but eventually, I suckered him into going. It didn’t matter where we went. I wasn’t planning on actually staying for the meal, so I told him he could pick.

  He picked some rundown pizza place downtown. Before we could get there, though, I asked if we could stop at a gas station.

  “Can’t you hold it?” he groaned. “You’re the one that dragged us out of the house. We’re not that far.”

  “There’s no time,” I said. “If I don’t find a bathroom in the next thirty seconds, you’re going to have to replace your upholstery.” I knew that would do it. Luke freaked out about his upholstery almost as much as he did about going bald.

  He pulled into a Chevron, and I hurried inside before Dean’s men could pull in and check things out. I was hoping for a place with an easy, unalarmed door at the back, but there was no such luck. I found the bathroom, went inside, and locked the door. I had to think of something. Iozzo’s hearing was less than a week away and if I didn’t start showing some progress, that would be it.

  After a minute, I flushed the toilet I hadn’t used. I ran the sink with cold water and splashed some on my face. Not only did I need to ditch the security here, I’d have to find a way to get Dean out of his building and away from the bodyguards at and around his place, too. It might have been easier if I hadn’t done what the woman told me to do and thrown my phone over the side of the building. I even stood there at the ledge, looking down to make sure it didn’t hit anyone. It fell harmlessly onto the street while I threw up on the roof from the vertigo.

  Gas stations usually had those prepaid cellphones TV says drug dealers use. I had money, but those things had to charge before you could use them. I would have asked the cashier if I could use the phone behind the counter, but Ames, the man watching the bathroom door, would ask why—or worse: he could overhear the conversation. Luke had already told the team where we were going so they could check the place out first, and once I was there, I’d have to lose a lot more people.

  I was about to turn the sink off when I had an idea. Cupping my hands under the faucet, I collected the water and proceeded to splash it between my legs. Nothing about it was dignified, but my khaki bottoms really showed the water. In no time, I’d fabricated a personal nightmare of mine and turned off the sink. This had to work. It was the only idea I had, and with the spreading dark spot on my pants, I was committed to it.

  Patting my face dry with a paper towel, I looked in the mirror. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a good night’s sleep. I dried my hands and went to the door to the restroom, opening it just a crack.

  Ames, which I’m pretty sure was his last name, spotted me immediately and came over. “Is there a problem, ma’am?” he asked, sidling up to the door.

  Out of nowhere, I just started crying. I hadn’t even planned it, it just came out of me. “I don’t know how to say this,” I told him. “I…I didn’t make it.” Tears streamed down my face.

  “You didn’t—oh,” he said. “Oh, uh yeah. No problem. We’ll have someone bring you some clean clothes from the house. Just stay there and don’t worry about a thing. I mean, hey, it’s happened to all of us at one point or another, right?”

  I hadn’t anticipated he’d be that understanding, but I was crying at the time, so who knows? I said, “I can’t tie up this bathroom for however long it takes.”

  “We can walk you out of here and drive you back,” he said. “The store’s just you, me, and the cashier, so no one would even know.”

  “Luke’s never going to let me in his car like this,” I said, sniffling and blubbering.

  “You can ride with me,” he said. “We’ll run you back home and your brother can drive alongside us.”

  “Any chance we can just send him ahead? I’d much rather he not know about this.”

  “We can’t do that, ma’am. It would divide our team up in a way that would render us less effective. We can just tell him you had to head back for something else, or that you spilled some soda and need to change before dinner.”

  His kindness was becoming very inconvenient.

  “All right,” I said. “Let’s just be quick, can we?”

  “You got it,” he agreed.

  I actually felt pretty bad deceiving Ames, especially given the way he paced our walk so he was always between the cashier and the front of my pants. He walked me to his black SUV with its nearly opaque tinted windows. He reached in the back and pulled out a jacket for me to wrap myself in, and I got in the SUV.

  Ames did all the talking, “Hey, we’re going to need to run back to the house really quick. There was a thing with a fountain drink and a faulty lid and Miss Blair just needs to grab a quick change of clothes.”

  The two guys in the front seat looked at each other and both of their mouths twitched as they fought back smiles. It didn’t matter to my plan whether they thought I’d spilled soda or peed my pants, but I appreciated Ames for trying.

  “Righto,” the driver said. The passenger got on the radio and informed Luke, the SUV parked around the corner, and the SUV circling the block of our amended itinerary.

  As we were driving back to my brother’s house, I asked Ames if I could borrow his cellphone. “I dropped mine and haven’t replaced it yet,” I told him. I couldn’t count o
n tears coming back at just the right time again, so it made sense to stick as close as possible to the truth.

  “Sure,” he said and reached into his pocket. He handed me the phone.

  I typed a quick message to Dean, saying, “It’s Marcy. Phone’s broken. Need to see JUST you. Ditch the guys. Meet me @ the first place we made love. Not my phone. Don’t txt back.”

  I almost deleted the message. Writing the word “love” was like a slap to the face, even in that context. If I’d had more time, and if Ames wasn’t being a bit too close, I might have written it differently. I told myself I was just overthinking it and my thumb came down on the send button.

  I hit the screen a few more times before turning to Ames. “Hey, I don’t think it sent.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “It should just show up in the messages window. You’re not seeing anything?”

  “Oh, I must have deleted it by mistake,” I said and started typing again. “You’re phone’s an Android, right?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Ames said.

  “Mine’s an iPhone. They must be set up a little differently, but I think I’ve got it.” I finished the text and hit send. I tapped the screen again, then the home key. I tapped the screen a few more times, squeezing the phone in my hand and groaning. “The screen went all funny and now it’s shutting off.”

  “Huh,” Ames said, taking the phone. “I thought it still had close to full charge on it.”

  “It’s okay,” I told him. “We’re almost home. Thanks anyway.”

  We pulled up in front of the house and if I had any illusions of making some kind of break for it while everyone else was still getting out, I was kidding myself. I don’t know where they’d trained, but before the motorcade stopped, guys were getting out of their vehicles and were almost completely set up before I was out of the backseat.

  Luke pulled in behind us. He rolled down his window and called out, “Hey, Marce, seriously?”

  I didn’t bother acknowledging him, though. There wouldn’t be much time before Ames followed me into the bedroom. After I sent the message to Dean, I deleted it, but before I killed the phone’s volume and shut it off, I wrote and sent another message—this one from Ames’s number to Ames’s number.