The Ruthless Billionaire: A Clean Billionaire Romance (California Elite)
Page 9
Lucas bit down on his bottom lip. “So, you’re one of those.”
“One of what?”
“One of those people who believe God cares about your day-to-day activities.”
“He does care. I feel Him with me all the time. I see how He provides for me. Even running into you after losing my job at the café. That was God taking care of me yet again.”
Lucas cocked his head to the side as if considering my statement. “It was a strange coincidence, but I don’t know if I’d attribute it to God. I believe He exists, but I don’t think He cares.”
“He does, and He loves you more than you know, Lucas.”
He winced. “I doubt that.”
“Why?”
He glanced at me like he couldn’t believe I was asking. “Because no one loves,” he paused as if realizing what he’d just divulged. He started over. “No one cares about me, least of all a God who gave me parents that . . .” He didn’t finish. “Anyway, moving on.” He leaned forward and picked up two more slices of pizza and put them on his plate. “You’re an amazing cook, Aria. What if I hire you to be my chef?”
He winked as if attempting to distract me, but I couldn’t move past what he’d just said, and Leslie’s comment about his mom still irked me. “Lucas, what Leslie said earlier . . . That was cruel. You know she was just trying to hurt you, right? It’s not true.”
He shrugged. “It’s common knowledge that my dad kicked my mother out because she was a drug addict. He’s a difficult man. I’m pretty sure he drove her to be that way. She left when I was five and never looked back. Never kept in touch or tried to contact me and my sister. It’s as if she never existed.” He bit into a new slice of pizza and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Leslie was right. She didn’t love me, because if she had, she would have made an effort.” The pain was so evident on his face, I had to wonder if he’d ever been this vulnerable with anyone before. It was so fresh, raw. If he wanted to hide it, he wasn’t doing a good job of covering it up.
I reached forward and put my hand over his, my heart aching for him. “She was wrong for abandoning you like that, but it doesn’t reflect on you. You’re worthy of love, Lucas. I’m sorry if you didn’t get it from your mother, but that doesn’t mean no one cares about you.”
“People don’t care.” He sounded irritated, frustrated that I couldn’t see that.
“I care.”
He stared at me for a long moment, and then he drew in a breath, his chest moving up and down from the motion as he let the air out. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”
His eyes were so intense that goosebumps broke out along the back of my neck. He didn’t look away, didn’t break eye contact.
“You try to push people away, but you don’t fool me, Lucas. You want love just like the rest of us.”
He glanced down at his plate. “Love is just a messed-up notion people have. I used to chase it, but I finally grew up and realized it doesn’t exist. Maybe in fairy-tales. Maybe in made up stories.” His eyes found mine again. “It’s like a phantom in the wind. You think you see it out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to face it head-on, it’s gone. In reality, it was never really there to begin with.”
“Maybe the real problem is you’re waiting to receive it. What if you tried giving it to someone else?”
His eyebrows flew up, but before he could answer, the front door opened and closed. Sam walked in and looked almost startled to see us sitting together.
“Sorry, Mr. Armstrong. I didn’t know you’d still be up.”
“No, problem,” Lucas said. “I’m just eating pizza with Aria. Want a slice?”
Sam smiled and shook his head. “I ate a big dinner. Don’t think I could eat another bite, and I’m pretty tired.” He tipped his chin. “Night, Mr. Armstrong. Night Aria.”
He left, and Lucas checked the time. “It’s eleven o’clock, but after that nap, I don’t feel like going to sleep. Want to watch a movie with me?”
A warm sensation flooded through me. He was including me, letting me be his friend. “Sure.”
“Do you mind wrapping up the rest of the pizza while I set up the Blu-ray?”
“Not at all. It’ll only take me a few minutes.”
After I finished putting away the pizza, I joined Lucas in the main living room to watch a movie. There was only one couch in front of the television, and he’d sat right smack in the middle, not leaving much space for me. I figured he’d move over when I walked up, but when he didn’t, I hesitated, unsure of what to do.
He smirked. “Have a seat, Aria. I promise I won’t bite.”
I sat next to him, just barely brushing his left thigh as I sat down. Warm tingles swept through me at the contact, and it was a little too close for comfort. I felt his body heat radiating off him, and my stomach did a flip. He smelled like sandalwood and coconut suntan lotion. It smelled so good I had to lean in to catch another whiff. Well, I didn’t exactly have to lean in, but I did it anyway.
“What do you want to watch?” he asked.
“I’m not sure what I’m in the mood for. Have any chick flicks?”
He laughed. “Yeah, right. Do I look like the type of guy that has chick flicks?”
“Say no more. What do you have?”
He listed a bunch of action-adventure movies that didn’t appeal to me.
“What about TV shows,” I asked. “What do you like to watch?”
“I don’t watch a lot of TV, but when I do, I gravitate towards reality shows.”
“Really?” My smile brightened. “I love reality TV.”
“All right. Name something you want to watch. I have almost everything.”
“Do you have Challenge your Fear?” I loved that show because it always had a variety of challenging stunts the contestants had to do in order to win money. Most of the stunts were high-risk activities your average person would refuse to do, but some were relatively safe—they just involved lots and lots of bugs.
His smile grew wider. “That’s an old one. You actually watched that?”
“Yeah, we used to watch reruns. The first time I saw it I thought it was horrible. People were eating these nasty bugs, and I nearly threw up. But my dad and brother were into it and they wouldn’t turn the channel, so I started watching more and got into it.”
“I always liked the daredevil challenges more than the bug-eating myself.”
“Totally agree with you there.”
“Challenge Your Fear it is then.” Lucas got up from the couch and found the disk. He set it up on the television and then sat back down even closer to me than before. He put his arm behind me on the couch, and though he wasn’t touching me, he was inches from having his arm around me. Or maybe it was all in my head. My stomach practically turned sideways with all the moving around it was doing.
“I have six seasons, so I’ll just pick an episode at random.”
He chose one where two teams were timed on how quickly they could eat a Camel spider. It was the color of sand and huge, not at all like the tiny spiders you might find on your front porch. A female contestant went first, and when she picked it up with her fingers and lifted it to her mouth, I ducked my head into Lucas’s side. “Yuck . . . I can’t watch this.”
He laughed. “It’s almost over.”
And then he started groaning. “Ha . . . That is so disgusting.”
I peeked, and his face was screwed up. “Wow. Just wow.” He shook his head, laughing. “Takes guts. I give her credit.”
“Do I even want to know what just happened?”
He slapped his knee, still laughing. “Do you seriously want to know?”
Chapter 12
Lucas
“Now you’ve made me curious,” Aria said, shifting on the couch. “I’ve got to know what happened.”
I hit the pause button and turned to face her. “All right, but I’m warning you, it might make you sick.”
She appeared to brace herself. “Just tell me really quick.”
I grinned. “When she put that huge spider in her mouth, the legs were moving and trying to crawl back out.”
“Ugh. I did not need that visual. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Tried to warn you.”
“That you did. I should have listened.”
“We can speed through the rest if you want until we get to the daredevil stuff.”
She made a face and put a hand over her eyes. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
I sped through the spiders until I got to the stunt. This guy had to walk along the ledge of a skyscraper and retrieve flags for his team.
“Watching that man inch so close to the edge makes my palms go clammy,” she said. “I could never do that.”
“I’d do it in a second. Heights don’t bother me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Or are you just saying that?”
“I’m serious. I base jump, skydive, you name it. Something like that wouldn’t phase me.”
“How do you work up the nerve?”
I shrugged. “I’ve always been a bit reckless.”
“I’ve heard that people who engage in those kinds of sports do it for the adrenaline rush. Is that true for you?”
“Yeah, definitely. There’s this high you get when you jump that can’t be replicated anywhere else.”
I didn’t mention that each time I jumped, I wondered for half a second what would happen if I didn’t pull the parachute—if I let myself free-fall one last time. That wasn’t the type of thing I shared with anyone. But every time I jumped, I was forced to make a choice. I’d always chosen life over death, but one day . . . One day I didn’t know if that would be the final decision. I’d get as much as I could from this world, but when it got to be too hard . . .
Aria brushed her hair to the side with her fingers. “My brother, Chase, was never afraid of heights either. When we were younger, my dad used to take us on frequent hikes. I remember this one time we hiked up a cliff and Chase walked right up to the edge. Dad and I trailed behind, and he had a fit when we finally caught up. He grabbed the top of Chase’s shirt and yanked him back hard. Told him to watch himself, or he wouldn’t get to come next time.” She laughed. “Chase would have liked you.”
I frowned. “Would have?” She hadn’t mentioned her brother died, but she’d said it in the past tense as if he was no longer alive.
“I just meant back then. When he was a teen.”
“And now?”
She glanced to the side. “I don’t know where he is.” She said it so quietly, I had to strain to hear.
“Did you two have a falling out or something?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s nothing like that.”
“Then, why don’t you know where he is?”
She grabbed on to the arm of the couch as if steadying herself. “When my dad died, we didn’t have any living relatives in California that could take us in. My mom had family back in Florida, but they all had families and none of them made the effort, so we went into foster care.”
A sick feeling took hold of me. I’d never been in foster care, but I’d come really close. “Aria, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that about you.”
“It’s okay. My last home was good, but I did get bumped around a few times due to circumstances outside of my control. After the first placement fell through, they had to separate me and Chase because they couldn’t find a home to take both of us together. We only saw each other once a week, usually on Wednesday evenings. At first, he seemed to be doing well, but then over the weeks, I noticed slight changes. He was less talkative and moody at times. Sometimes he’d pull out his phone and play games during the entire visit, just ignoring me. And then it got to the point where he didn’t want to see me anymore.” Her eyes watered, and she brushed them with the back of her hand. “Something was going on with him . . . I just don’t know what. He wouldn’t tell me.”
My back tightened because I feared what that might mean. It was possible he was being abused. I didn’t want to say it, but that was the stark reality.
I’d lived it.
Experienced the bruises.
Suffered the shame, the feelings of worthlessness.
It ate at me, and most days I pushed it out of my thoughts, but sometimes . . . Sometimes those dark days revisited me in my dreams.
“Go on, I’m listening,” I said, wanting to reach out and touch her, comfort her in some way. The instinct was new to me. My sister and I had an unspoken rule: we didn’t share our feelings with each other. That was just how it was. When it came to other women, I didn’t let anyone close enough, and my relationships hadn’t gone deep enough to get to that place, anyway. Everything stayed on the surface, and no one shared anything emotional. I’d always liked it that way, but with Aria, it felt like we could relate to each other.
“A few weeks after I turned eighteen,” she said, “a social worker informed me that Chase had run away. They’d filled out a missing person’s report and the police looked for him, but he never showed up. I was all set to go to college for restaurant management, but I canceled my plans and devoted most of my time looking for Chase myself. I worked part-time at a restaurant and earned extra cash by playing my violin in popular venues. But my street performing was more about keeping an eye out for Chase and having a pulse for what was going on in the streets.”
“In Dylan’s painting, you were playing to a crowd. I didn’t know the context, but now it makes sense.”
She nodded. “Recently, I got a tip that Chase was at a shelter in Santa Monica, and it turned out to be a false lead. It was the final straw. I realized I needed help, and that I couldn’t do it on my own anymore. That’s when I came to the decision to get a full-time job so I could save money for a private investigator.” She glanced at me and smiled. “And then you came along and offered me a job.”
My chest tightened. We’d met by coincidence. She just happened to be in my vicinity and I’d felt this curiosity about her. But what if we’d never met? This feeling took hold of me. I didn’t know what to call it. Fate? Destiny? Whatever it was, I knew she and I were supposed to meet.
“Aria, I can help you find your brother.”
She whipped around to face me. “What?”
“I have an investigator on my payroll. He does a lot of work for me. He’s good, one of the best. If anyone can locate Chase, he can.”
There was so much hope mixed with pain on her face it made me want to pull her into my arms and comfort her—tell her it would all be okay. I shook my head to clear it. What was wrong with me? I needed to keep my thoughts from going there. I couldn’t get too close to Aria, not when I had to marry Hillary. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
I lifted up and scooted further down the couch.
Shouldn’t have forced her to sit so close to begin with.
Yeah, I’d done that on purpose.
The act of moving away left a dull ache in my gut, but I pushed past the disappointment. Whatever happened, I had to fight against every instinct to turn our relationship into something it couldn’t be.
“Lucas,” she pleaded. “I’ll do anything. I’ll work for free if that’s what it takes. I need that investigator to find my brother. It’s been too long . . .” Her voice broke.
“You think I’d let you work for free? Like I said, he’s already on my payroll. I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Write down some basic things for me to give him: his date of birth, where he was living, etc.”
“Okay, I will. You can deduct a fee from my wages if you want.”
“That’s not necessary. I pay him a flat salary for his time. It’s more than enough.”
All of a sudden, she clobbered me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me.”
I didn’t hug her back—kept my arms to my side—but when she didn’t let go, my arms slowly enfolded her out of their own volition. My brain told my arms to stay put, but they didn’t listen. We stayed like that for a long time
until she finally pulled away and smiled.
“This is the best news I’ve had in so long.” Tears streamed down her face and she smiled, sniffing. “I’m so thankful.”
I leaned forward and wiped her tears away with my thumbs. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“These are happy tears. For the first time, I feel like I have support. I’ve been shouldering the burden on my own for too long.”
“Let me help carry it for a change.”
She touched my forearm. “You’re my hero, did you know that?”
I drew back, pulling away. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
She took my hand and refused to let go. “I do know, Lucas. I know exactly what I’m saying.”
The confidence in her voice . . . It almost made me believe I could be the type of man she could look up to. Almost.
“You stepped in and took care of things when Leslie crumbled,” I said. “I like loyalty, and I reward people who are good to me. That’s all it is. Don’t think I’m a hero because I’m not. If anything, I’ve played the villain on more than a few occasions. Just ask Alexa.”
She smiled at me with admiration in her eyes, refusing to listen to what I just said. It was like she saw through the haze, almost as if she saw something in me she liked. Something no one else had ever seen before.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you’ve done things you regret,” she said. “It’s that I know without a doubt God can forgive you if you seek Him.”
My first response was to contradict her but something stopped me. What if she was right? What if I could find forgiveness?
All the things I had done came to mind. The cruel things I’d said to people. The manipulation. The lies.
I was my father’s son, like it or not.
No, forgiveness was beyond my reach.
I was about to tell her that when something occurred to me. Despite everything she’d been through, she was one of the most positive, optimistic people I’d ever met. I didn’t want to squash that by telling her there was no hope for me. Her attitude had gotten her through a lot, and it would continue to help her as long as I didn’t stomp it down.