The Billionaire Replacement

by Emma Lea

  He could hear the smile in her voice as she replied. “Because I didn’t think vomit covered mermaid costume and me in a bad mood would be such a great thing to expose you to, especially after the amazing weekend we’ve had together.”

  “About that,” he said.

  “Don’t say it,” she whispered. “I know what you’re going to say and I just… I can’t…”

  “How do you know what I’m going to say?”

  “You asked for the weekend and we had the weekend and it was amazing and wonderful and more than I ever expected. But it’s Sunday night and the weekend is over—”

  “Brandi—”

  “No, please, don’t say it. Let me just hold on to the fantasy a little longer. I’ll see you this week, we start rolling out your software in a couple of days. We can talk more then.”

  Without saying goodbye she hung up and Declan was left looking at his phone wondering what the hell had just happened.

  Brandi didn't know what it was that woke her only that she was awake and about to vomit over everything. Moving as quickly as she could without upsetting her stomach too much she raced to the bathroom and made it just in time to throw up in the toilet. Tears streamed down her face as everything she’d eaten the day before made a reappearance in vivid technicolor.

  When her stomach was mercifully empty and her retching ceased, she slumped on the floor, leaning back against the bathroom wall, and swore before crying and just feeling sorry for herself in general. What a perfectly shitty way to wake up on a Monday morning.

  Taking care not to jostle herself too much, she crawled out of the bathroom and climbed back into bed, reaching for her phone. It was barely six but she needed to let Peyton know that she wouldn't be in and then they would need to find someone to start the install for The Mayfield Group. What a pain in the arse.

  She knew she shouldn't have done a party for Courtney. Not only had her little spawn of Satan given her a stomach bug, but her bastard of a husband had tried to put his sleazy hands all over her. Never again would she do a party for anyone in that clique.

  Her stomach flopped over again and she held herself very still wondering if she was going to have to rush to the bathroom again. God. What she wouldn't do for some dry ginger ale right now. She made a pouty face and rolled over, bury her head in her pillow. Living on your own sucked balls when you were sick.

  When her stomach settled again, she turned her head and brought her phone close so she could send a text to Peyton.

  B: Sick. Feel like shit. Won't be in to work today. Need to reschedule Mayfield Group or get someone else to attend. Please send a care package…ginger ale and crackers.

  With the text send she closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep. It's what she used to do when she was a kid and got car sick. She'd force herself to sleep and then she wouldn't have to throw up. She hated puking. It was like the worst feeling in the world.

  She must have dozed for a little while and then a text message on her phone woke her.

  P: I'll deal with Mayfield Group. Care package enroute. Let me know if you need anything else.

  Brandi’s relief that Peyton had everything well in hand was short lived as her stomach heaved. She shot out of bed and made it to the bathroom by the skin of her teeth. She didn't know how it was possible that she was still throwing up. Surely there was nothing left in her stomach. Unfortunately, there was evidence to the contrary. Carrot? When the hell had she eaten carrot?

  Feeling miserable and severely sorry for herself, Brandi dragged her arse back to bed. She closed her eyes and prayed for sleep to come… or death. Death may very well be preferable to the way she currently felt.

  Her doorbell woke her later and she dared to get out of bed and made it to the door without passing out or puking. Yay for the small wins. She opened the door and the young guy on the other side flinched visibly and took a step back. She must look about as good as she felt.

  “Uh. I've got a package here for Brandi?”

  “That's me,” she said, “hand it over.”

  He passed her the basket - yeah, it was a gift basket, fucking Peyton - and she signed his little digital thingy before slamming the door in his face. She really couldn't people today.

  Dragging her weak arse and her gift basket into the kitchen, she poured herself a lukewarm ginger ale and sipped. The liquid slipped down her abused throat and she closed her eyes to savour it. There was just nothing like ginger ale when you were feeling like crap.

  With a sigh, she opened the packet of plain crackers and nibbled on one as she took her glass of ginger ale back to bed. Just as she was thinking that maybe the worst of it was over, her stomach cramped. Oh god no. If puking wasn't enough, now it was going to come out the other end as well.

  With a whimper, she rushed to the toilet cursing Courtney and her offspring.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  The nerdy guy sitting behind Declan’s desk jumped and looked up, swallowing.

  “Ah…”

  “It’s a simple question. Who. The. Hell. Are. You?”

  “Simon,” the guy replied in a rush, “from Sabre Management Systems. I’m here to do the install of your software.”

  “Where is Brandi? She was supposed to do the install.”

  “Sick,” he said.

  “Sick?”

  Simon nodded. “I got a call from Peyton this morning saying that Brandi was sick and could I come in and start the install.”

  “Why didn’t anyone call me?” Declan growled. “It’s my fucking company.”

  “Your assistant knew,” Simon said with a slight stutter. “She was the one who gave me access to your office and your computer.”

  “Right,” Declan said and turned on his heel heading for the front office where his personal assistant was sitting. She hadn’t said a word to him as he’d breezed past earlier and he intended to find out why.

  “Shelley?”

  “Hmm?” she replied distractedly as she looked at something on her computer screen.

  “Why is there an unknown person sitting at my desk and fucking with my computer?”

  She looked up sharply at him. “What?”

  He pointed to his office over his shoulder. “Why is there a strange guy in there—”

  Her face relaxed and she smiled. “Oh, that’s Simon. He’s here from Sabre Management Systems.”

  “And when were you going to tell me that he was here? Our software install was supposed to be done by Brandi. Did someone call with a change of plans?”

  “Peyton called early this morning. Apparently Brandi is sick and couldn’t come in so Simon is starting the install and she will be in over the next few days to complete it and test it before we go live.”

  Declan grit his teeth. Was Brandi really sick or was this her way of avoiding him? She hung up on him last night and he hadn’t really understood why. He was hoping to be able to speak with her today. The question that he wanted to ask her was burning a hole in his stomach.

  “I’ll be up in my suite if you need me,” Declan said before striding out of the office and heading for the lift.

  He waited until he got into his room before pulling out his phone and dialling Brandi. She didn’t pick up. Next he dialled Peyton.

  “Peyton speaking.”

  “Peyton it’s Declan.”

  “Hello Declan, what can I do for you?”

  “You can tell me why Simon is in my office fucking with my software and not Brandi. We had a deal. Brandi was supposed to do the install.”

  “Brandi is sick,” Peyton said, “as in puking all over the place sick. She couldn’t make it today and rather than push back your install I figured Simon, who by the way is just as brilliant as Brandi and knows the software just as well, could start the process.”

  “Fine,” he said, disconnecting the call.

  He paced around the living space of the suite. If Brandi really was sick, why didn’t she call him? He dialled her number again and this time it connected.


  “Hello?” she said and he could hear it in her voice. She really was sick, not just avoiding him.

  “Brandi,” he breathed.

  “Declan?”

  “Why didn’t you call me to tell me you were sick?”

  Ugh,” she groaned. “You do not want to see me like this.”

  “Let me come over. I will bring chicken soup and—”

  There was a gagging noise on the other end of the phone. “Brandi?”

  “Please Declan,” she said, her voice strangled. “Don’t come over. I am throwing up amongst other things and I am highly contagious. Courtney’s little girl gave me her stomach bug when she threw up on me yesterday and I feel like death warmed over.”

  “Do you need anything? I can send—”

  “That’s really sweet,” she said, her voice softening, “but Peyton is sending me care packages when I need them. Seriously, you don’t want to catch this. Peyton said Simon has started your install? He’s good. I’ll be in sometime this week to go over everything, so don’t worry.”

  “I’m more worried about you,” he said. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

  “I promise you that you do not want to see me like this. The last delivery guy couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I look like that little girl from the exorcist with the spinning head and projectile vomiting.”

  “But you make it sound so attractive,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

  She chuckled. “It’s good to hear your voice even if I can’t see you. If I wasn’t so gross and so contagious then I wouldn’t want anything else except to snuggle into you while you held me.” Her voice was soft and it warmed his heart.

  “I wish I could be there for you,” he replied. “I don’t care if you’re gross.”

  “You do not want to get sick,” she said, “but thank you for saying that. Now get back to work so I can get back to sleep and I promise I’ll see you soon.”

  He sighed. “Okay. I hope you’re feeling better.”

  They disconnected and Declan looked down at his phone. What the hell was the matter with him? He had never felt this need to look after someone before but the thought of Brandi at home by herself and feeling so wretched did weird things to him. He wanted to be with her, holding her, wiping her brow or some other shit that you did to make people feel better. He hated that he was here and she was there, but he knew she was right when she banned him from coming to see her. If it was as contagious as she said, it wouldn’t do him any good to get sick as well.

  15

  Over the next couple of days, Declan managed to spoil her without even setting a foot in her apartment. First there had been flowers. Lots of flowers. A massive bunch of wildflowers that thankfully came with its own vase because she didn’t have one big enough. Next was a box full of medications. He must have gone to a chemist and spoken to a pharmacist because the little gift-wrapped box was full of over the counter medications and herbal remedies for combatting nausea, and a food delivery of a random mix of bananas, rice, applesauce and white bread. Apparently, this was the B.R.A.T. diet and good for someone who was puking as much as she was. Then he sent her a brand new iPad with two, one hundred dollar iTunes cards so she could download as many books and music and movies that she wanted. And then there was the delivery of magazines and those adult colouring books, including colouring pens. Not to mention the sweet little text messages he had been sending her. He called her at night and they spoke for as long as she could before she fell asleep. He was the most sweet and attentive boyfriend she had ever had and he wasn’t even her real boyfriend.

  By the third day with little improvement, Brandi braved going to the doctor. Her GP couldn’t do much except confirm that she did have a stomach bug and that rest and fluids was the best thing for it. She took herself home, exhausted, and fell into bed before being woken by her phone. She thought it might be Declan again and let it go to voicemail. She needed to sleep.

  When she woke again, she checked her phone to see that there had been three missed calls from the hospital. They knew she was sick because she’d preemptively cancelled her weekend shift. The last thing she wanted was to bring her germs into the hospital and possible infect a bunch of already sick kids. Curious as to why they were calling her, she hit redial.

  “Hey it’s Brandi,” she said when one of the regular nurses picked up. “Someone was trying to call me earlier.”

  “Oh, Brandi. Hang on.”

  Puzzled, Brandi waited while she heard a mumbled conversation and then silence before someone spoke into the phone.

  “Brandi, it’s Dr. Brad Hemsure.”

  “Oh, Dr. Brad. Is everything all right?”

  He sighed and her stomach flipped over. This wasn’t good news. She didn’t know how she knew but she did. She wondered what had happened. Had Dr. Shane complained about her to someone? Was she about to lose her job?

  “It’s about Caitlyn,” Dr. Brad said gently.

  Brandi’s runaway train of thought came to an abrupt halt. “Caitlyn?”

  “Caitlyn’s mum asked us to give you a call because she knows how close the two of you are. Caitlyn’s not doing well,” Dr. Brad said, his voice soft and compassionate. “We don’t think she will last the week.”

  “What?” Brandi sat up suddenly and her stomach roiled but she ignored it.

  “You knew this was coming,” he said sternly but still with compassion. It was the voice she’d heard him use with nurses when they got too emotional about a patient. It was okay to fall apart in the locker room or at home but it was imperative that you didn’t do that in front of the patients.

  “I know, but I thought she’d have more time.”

  “You thought she’d beat it,” he said, “But we’ve known for a while now that her cancer is spreading and nothing we’ve done has helped.”

  Brandi sighed, holding back the sob that threatened to choke her. “I know,” she whispered, “I just wished…”

  “I know. We all did. Caitlyn’s a special little girl.”

  “Is there any way I can see her?”

  “Someone said you’re sick.”

  “Yeah, stomach bug.”

  “I can’t let you onto the ward like that,” he said. “I’m sorry but I just can’t risk the other kids.”

  “I know,” she said, “But I really want to see her and say goodbye.”

  “Her parents are planning on taking her home so she can be somewhere familiar. Would you like me to ask them if you can visit her there?”

  “Yes, please,” Brandi said, tears streaming down her face. “You can give them my number and have them call me.” She paused. “How’re they doing? Do they need anything?”

  “They’re doing as well as can be expected. It’s been a long journey for the whole family. They’ve been here every day this week.”

  “I started a trust for them,” she blurted out. “It’s still being sorted with the lawyers but if they need anything at all please let me know and I’ll take care of it.”

  Dr. Brad exhaled into the phone. “I’ll let them know,” he said, “and I’ll get them to call you about seeing Caitlyn.”

  “Thanks Dr. Brad,” she said as she disconnected.

  Brandi leaned back against her pillows and let herself cry. She was going to miss Caitlyn so much. The little girl had been the bright spot of her weekends and despite their age differences, they had become friends. Yes, she had lost patients before but she hadn’t been as close to them as she was to Caitlyn. She couldn’t imagine how Caitlyn’s parents must be feeling. Losing a child had to be the worst thing imaginable.

  Without thinking about what she was doing, Brandi picked up her phone and dialled Declan.

  “Brandi?” he answered, concern in his voice.

  “It’s Caitlyn,” she said without preamble. “They don’t think she’s going to last the week.”

  “Oh sweetheart,” he said, his voice soft and wrapped around her like a warm blanket. The tears fell in earnest.
“Is there anything I can do? Can I come over and see you?”

  “I’m still sick,” she replied with a sniffle. “I can’t even go and see her without worrying about infecting the rest of the ward.”

  “Can’t you wear one of those masks?” he asked. She smiled through her tears at his attempt to fix something that couldn’t be fixed.

  “No. Her parents are taking her home so one of the doctors is going to see if they’ll let me visit her there. But, in the meantime, could you do something for me?”

  “Absolutely. Anything.”

  “I really want to see her and I was wondering if maybe we could Skype? Are you able to see if you can set that up?”

  “I’ll head over to the hospital now,” he said and she could hear him moving around.

  “Thank you,” she whispered before they ended the call. She slumped back on her pillows and let the misery and grief swamp her.

  “Hello gorgeous,” Brandi whispered into the laptop as Caitlyn came into focus.

  “Hi…Brandi,” she replied haltingly.

  Caitlyn was breathing heavily, like every breath hurt, and she could barely open her eyes. It was a small miracle that she could even acknowledge Brandi on the other end of the Skype call.

  “You don’t seem to be doing so hot,” Brandi said and Caitlyn gave her a weak smile.

  “I’m tired…Brandi,” she said, labouring over every word. “I think…it’s time.”

  Brandi held in a sob. She would not break down now, not when Caitlyn was being so brave.

  “I wanted…you to know…”

  “No, it’s okay,” Brandi said. “You don’t have to say anything.”

  “I want to,” Caitlyn rushed. “I am so…thankful…that you came…into my room…that day.”

  Caitlyn paused to take a few more breaths. Brandi could hear her chest rattle with the effort it took for her to breathe.

  “I am too,” Brandi replied.

  Caitlyn tried to smile at her and her eyes fluttered shut. Brandi covered her mouth with one hand and reached out to touch the small screen with her other hand. She wanted to be there, in the room. She wanted to say a proper goodbye to someone who had become one of her closest friends.