Rock Star Billionaire: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story)

by Claire Adams

  "If you guys hear rumors about a shake up, just know that there are changes coming," Chief said as he looked down at an official memo from his superiors. "But a lot of the rumors are going to be false, so make sure you check with me before you spread them, okay? It's bad enough that we can't get the whole story, but to have you guys spreading stuff that's totally untrue is only going to hurt us all. Okay?"

  "Aye, aye, Chief," Mike nodded as he pointed toward the kitchen and said, "Cam, Danny, you guys are on breakfast clean up. Hop to it before we get a call!"

  "Crack the whip, why don't you?" Danny grumbled good-naturedly as he and I did our kitchen duty. As I washed and he dried, Danny talked about his plans for his small construction business. "You know, I've got a few contracts that I'm working on this year. Business is up from last year, and I can see that I might have a chance at some bigger contracts later this fall. You should come work for me, Cam. I can hook you up with some good jobs that pay really well if you need some extra cash for the house and all."

  "Thanks, man," I nodded as I focused my attention on scrubbing the eggs out of the frying pan Victor had used. I didn't want to turn Danny down, but I couldn't take on any more work than I already had and the problem was that I couldn't tell anyone about what I was doing; not even Danny. I laughed as I said, "I'm not that great with tools, so I'm probably not the guy you want working on million dollar houses."

  "Awww, c'mon, Cam, I'll teach you," Danny pleaded. "I need good reliable guys on my team and you're one of my best friends."

  "Alright, I'll think about it," I promised as I handed him the dripping wet frying pan. "I promise."

  "I'll work on your team, Danny!" Victor called from the other room. "I can always stand to make a few extra bucks now and again."

  "Yeah, okay, thanks Victor," Danny replied with a weak smile. None of us liked Victor Vangel. He was a cocky, arrogant jerk who took more than he gave and spent a lot of time grand standing and taking credit for things someone else had done. He had a huge chip on his shoulder and was so unpopular in the department that the brass had been unable to assign him to one fire house, so he ended up bouncing around and filing in for call-outs or sick leaves. Right now, he was filling in for Brent Jacoby who was out on paternity leave with his newborn twin daughters. Danny had a calendar in his locker where we marked off the days until Brent returned to work.

  As of that day, we had twenty-seven days to go, and we were anxiously awaiting his return.

  #

  "Engine One, Truck One, Ambulance Fifty-Five, fire at Canal and Taylor in the Southern Market," the voice over the intercom announced as the alarm blared and we ran to grab our gear. Kelly was the first to the truck and was yelling at us to hurry up as he slammed the driver side door shut and cranked the engine. I hopped on with Danny not far behind, and before we knew it, we were flying down Wells on our way to the fire.

  "Man, I hope it's not bad; I love that market," Danny said. "They have the best coffee beans and Italian sausages."

  "That sounds like a disgusting combination, Newsome," I laughed as we sped down the street.

  "Nah, man, it's the best breakfast ever! Fresh ground coffee beans, eggs and those sausages," he said smacking his lips. "My mom makes them for Sunday morning breakfast sometimes. Man, I'd cut off my right arm for those sausages."

  "Be careful what you wish for, Newsome!" Mike called from the front seat as he hit the siren and turned on to Canal.

  The building was definitely on fire, but it looked like a contained burn at the moment. We hopped out of the truck and started pulling hoses out as Mike hollered at the rest of the guys to grab gear and get ready to go in.

  "You got this, Connor?" he yelled as he pulled on his helmet and strapped it below his chin. I nodded and he gave me the thumbs up. Despite the frigid temperatures, Danny and I knocked the ice off the hydrant and quickly hooked up the hose before hauling it to the entry of the building. Mike and Victor were quickly pulling out the employees who had barricaded themselves in the back room with a fire extinguisher rather than having exited into the freezing cold Chicago winter day. Mike waved me inside and I yelled at Danny to let her rip.

  I shook my head, knowing that the most dangerous place in a building that was on fire was to be locked in a back room. Personal experience had taught me that the hard way, and the devastating loss had been my reminder every since.

  One huge crank of the hydrant and the water shot out of the nozzle, dousing the flames as we moved forward. The rest of the guys focused on making sure that the flames hadn't spread into the walls or air ducts, and by the time we were done, the ground floor of the Southern Market, while saved from major structural damage, was a chaotic mess.

  "All right, guys, the fire's out!" Mike yelled as he gestured toward the front door. "Shut down the hose!"

  Danny ran outside and cranked the hydrant into the off position as I tugged the length of hose back out the door, feeling grateful that this hadn't been worse. Once Chief Riley had given the okay for vendors to return to the building to assess the damage, a wave of people went flooding through the doors. Danny and I finished packing up the hose and storing equipment before we swung ourselves back up into the truck and waited for Mike to rev the engine and take us home.

  "You know, sometimes I think we're just the luckiest sons of bitches on the planet," Danny said shaking his head. "We live the life of Riley, you know?"

  "Shut the hell up, Newsome," Mike yelled. "You're gonna jinx us if you talk about how damn lucky we are!"

  Back at the fire house, I took Tesla out for a short walk and threw a ball for her a few times in the small, snow covered yard we had next to the station as I thought about everything I’d lost in the past decade. Tesla looked up at me and whined as I held the ball in my hand lost in deep thought. I threw it one more time, then I headed back inside to help check the gear, shower and then start cooking.

  Newsome and I were scheduled for the lunch shift and were making spaghetti and meatballs for the crew, and after all the work we'd done, I was hungry enough to eat a whole pan of meatballs all by myself.

  As I walked into the kitchen and rolled up my sleeves, my cell phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw a message from my best friend, Leo Marini, that said, "BIG CSC contract in the works. Call me or stop by after shift."

  "Shit," I muttered as I stuffed the phone back in my pocket and turned my attention to making dinner.

  "Something wrong, Cam?" Danny asked as he dumped package after package of ground beef into a bowl before adding eggs, breadcrumbs, fresh parsley and onions to the mix.

  "Nah, all good," I said as I cranked the oven on and pulled out the baking sheets we'd use to cook the meatballs. "Leo just needs some help. That's all."

  "Man, that dude needs to get a life," Danny said shaking his head. "Doesn't he have a job yet?"

  "Yeah, he's working for some security company downtown," I said as I reached into the meat mixture and began shaping the meat into balls before putting them on the baking sheets. I shrugged, "He's got a lot of shit to work through."

  "I'll say," Danny said. "That guy's got more baggage than an American Airlines check in counter!"

  "You think that one up yourself?" I scoffed.

  "Yeah, what do you think?" he asked. "I think I got a shot at open mic this month. I've been working on my material."

  "Well, don't quit your day job, Danny," I chuckled as I focused on the task at hand and quietly wondered what Leo was up to now. I just hoped it wasn't something that was going to put me in the spotlight.

  That was the last thing I needed right now.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Alex

  Two days later, Liz and I were scheduled to report at seven in the morning for our first full day of our internship. I'd taken great care to make sure I'd bought the right scrubs and shoes, and I'd spent a long time the night before experimenting with hairstyles that were functional, but still moderately attractive. I'd settled on pulling my long blonde hair back i
nto a low bun at the back of my head after reading about how patients who were in pain might grab a ponytail and pull. I'd also decided to leave all jewelry at home after I'd read a horrible story about a nurse who'd had her earrings pulled out by a patient on drugs.

  I was pretty sure we weren't going to be getting near any out of control patients on our first day, but I wanted to start out on the right foot, and after the scolding from Mrs. Rikka the day before, so I wasn't taking any chances.

  "Liz, what are you wearing?" I laughed as we hung up our coats and put our things in our assigned lockers down in the nurse's locker room.

  "I want to maintain my individuality," Liz sniffed as she tugged at the hem of her scrubs. The bottoms were unremarkable, but the tan top was covered in incredibly realistic looking slices of Chicago style pizza. She shrugged, "When in Chicago!"

  "You're crazy, you know that, don't you?" I laughed as we headed up to the conference room where we would get our assignments.

  "You may be right," she said breaking into a little Billy Joel as she danced her way to the conference room, "I may be crazy, but it just may be a lunatic you're looking for!"

  Once inside, we found our seats and waited for Mrs. Rikka to appear. Violet was ensconced in the corner with three of her best friends from the class—all girls who were not quite as rich as she was, but still passed muster with her parents. Violet was wearing blue scrubs that looked like they'd been custom made since they dipped and curved in all the right places, whereas the rest of us looked like we'd been fitted at Boxes R Us. A headband that matched her scrubs held her perfectly blow-dried hair away from her face, which was precisely contoured and powdered so that she looked like she was ready to step onto the set of Grey's Anatomy.

  "Good morning, nursing candidates," Mrs. Rikka said as she entered the room holding a clipboard in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. The mug that held the coffee was so white and pristine that I wondered if she used a brand new mug every time she had a cup. She looked around the table and said, "Ladies, I'm sure I need not remind you that when you are in Chicago General, you are to wear your security badges at all times."

  “Mrs. Rikka,” Violet said as she half raised her hand before speaking. “I’d like to say that it’s really a pleasure to be working with someone as accomplished and highly regarded in the administrative world as you are.”

  “Miss Metzler,” Mrs. Rikka said as she looked over the top of her glasses. “Do not suck up to me. It’s unattractive and entirely unprofessional.”

  Violet turned a shade of crimson that I didn’t think I’d ever seen before. Beside me, Liz chuckled softly as she watched her nemesis be brought to heel. She elbowed me and I shot her a look as I whispered, “Behave.”

  I reached down into the pocket of my scrubs, pulled out my badge and clipped it to my front pocket before looking up. Mrs. Rikka was frowning in my direction, but before I could ask if I'd gotten it right, she spoke.

  "Miss Burke, your badge should be clipped to the front pocket of your scrubs so that staff members and patients can readily see it," she instructed then raising an eyebrow, she added, "And your scrub top should never interfere with that ability."

  "I like to have a little fun with my scrubs," Liz said as she shifted her badge to the right place.

  "Yes, well..." Mrs. Rikka trailed off looking around the table and stopping at Violet and her friends and she said, "Miss Metzler, Miss Watkins, and Miss Drake, your uniforms are impeccable."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Rikka," the three girls said in unison and then giggled. A faint smile that looked more like toleration than actual joy, crossed Mrs. Rikka's lips and then quickly disappeared. I couldn't tell if she liked the girls or not and made a mental note to watch more closely so I'd know.

  "Ladies, today you are starting your internship here at Chicago General," Mrs. Rikka began. "We have very high expectations given the fact that you are coming out of one of the top nursing programs in the country, so before you begin, I want you to understand that all eyes are on you, and by association, on me as well. I expect you to behave in a way that reflects well on this program, and if there are any infractions, rest assured, they will be dealt with swiftly. Am I making myself clear?"

  "Yes, Mrs. Rikka," we all replied solemnly. Liz reached under the table and pinched my thigh causing me to jump in my seat.

  "Is there a problem, Miss Pierce?" Mrs. Rikka asked. I shook my head and she continued, "I'm going to assign you a department today. You will work there for three weeks before you rotate to a new department. By the time you finish your internship, you will have rotated through all of the major departments in the hospital and will be familiar with the protocols for each one."

  She quickly began reading off the list of assignments and I was happy to find that Liz and I had been assigned to the ER on the first rotation. Violet and her group had been assigned to the maternity ward, and were oohing and ahhing over how fun it was going to be to be around all those babies.

  "Ladies, the maternity ward is more that just baby sitting," Mrs. Rikka said looking at them pointedly. "There are as many unpleasant things that happen on the ward as there are pleasant, so please be aware of the possibility that you might be assisting with some sad moments in people's lives as well as the happy ones."

  "Yes, ma'am," Violet's friends said.

  "And you two," she said looking at Liz and I with one eyebrow raised. "I'm sure you're familiar with the general nature of the ER."

  "Yes, ma'am," I nodded.

  "Sure," Liz said as she bounced a little in her seat. "It's like on television, right? Always busy and bustling with activity, and tons of interesting characters."

  "You'll be observing and doing basic work down there, Miss Baker," Mrs. Rikka said. "Our ER is not a television program."

  "That's a darn shame," Liz grinned up at her.

  "Miss Baker, need I remind you that this is a hospital, not a game show?" Mrs. Rikka said disapprovingly. "If you can't behave appropriately, I'll have no problem removing you from the internship and telling your advisor you're not ready for this portion of your education. Do I need to do that?"

  "No, ma'am," Liz said looking down at the table sufficiently chastised. I’d long ago learned not to feel embarrassed by Liz’s outbursts or her somewhat uncouth behavior. I knew she had the best of intentions, even when people misunderstood her actions.

  After she'd finished filling us in on the expectation of our internship, she sent us off to the departments we'd been assigned to. Liz and I were quickly assigned mentors and were absorbed into the flow of the ER department. The morning passed much quicker than I'd expected and after lunch, we'd headed back down to find our mentors had clocked out and gone home. Liz and I still had a couple of hours left until we could punch out, so we busied ourselves helping stock and clean.

  Around four, we heard some shouting out in the main area of the ER. Liz grabbed my hand and yanked me away from the shelf of gauze pads I was organizing and restocking and pulled me to the nurse's station. A group of firemen were standing around a gurney yelling at the nurse to do something, and do something fast.

  "He's in pain, can't you see that?" a tall guy in a Chicago FD baseball cap pleaded with the head nurse. "Can't you do something?"

  "I'm waiting on the doctor," the nurse said as she typed something into the computer and then ordered the man moved to Exam 2. "She'll be right down and deal with this."

  "What's going on?" I whispered to the nurse standing next to me.

  "Firefighter cooking accident," she said rolling her eyes. "We get these every so often. Good guys, but a lot of them are idiots when it comes to kitchen safety. Sometimes I feel like we ought to go into every fire station in the city and give lessons on cooking techniques as a public safety."

  "What'd he do?" Liz asked.

  "Took his shirt off while frying meatballs," the nurse said with another eye roll. "He's probably got some second degree grease burns."

  I winced as she told us what happened, and
when I turned back around, I found myself standing in front of a tall man with broad shoulders, unruly rust-colored curls and piercing green eyes.

  "You must be new around here," he said smiling down at me. "I haven't seen you here before."

  "It's...um...my first day," I said trying to look away but completely unable to stop myself from staring. "I'm a nursing student...new...it's my first day."

  "So you said," he grinned. "What's your name, newbie?"

  "Me?" I asked pointing to my chest.

  "Well, yes, you," he said as he sunk his teeth into his lower lip.

  "Alexandra," I said thrusting my hand forward as I tried to remember my manners. "Pierce. Alex Pierce."

  "Well, Alexandra Alex Pierce," he said taking my hand and shaking it warmly. "I'm Cameron Conner, but most people call me Cam."

  "Hi, Cam," I said as I stared up at him, trying hard to control my breathing. If there was such a thing as a beautiful man, Cam Connor was it, and I had no idea how to act around him. Suddenly I remembered why I was there in the first place and sputtered, "Do you need some help? I mean, are you hurt, too?"

  "I'm not as bad as Danny over there, but I do think I got some grease on me," he said as he held on to my hand still shaking it. "Do you think you could give me a gauze pad or two to cover it up?"

  "Gauze! Yes! I can do that!" I cried remembering that I'd been stocking the supplies just before he'd come in. "I'll get some!"

  "I'll just come with you, if you don't mind," he said following me back to the back storage area in the trauma room.

  Once inside the room, I became even more unsettled as he pulled his shirt up and revealed his bare torso. He had a lightly hairy chest and abdominal muscles that I would have killed for. The fire department logo was tattooed all the way around his upper bicep.

  "Nice tattoo," I said as I wiped off the small area that had been hit by grease with an alcohol wipe. He winced, but said nothing. "Did that hurt?"