Her New York Billionaire

by Andrea Bolter

  He turned to wink at Holly. She grinned in response.

  “Thank you, Mr. Benton,” the technician called out. “Now we’d like to run the video, if you’d like to watch and okay?”

  “Will do.”

  Ethan escorted Holly back down the steps to one of the tables. They took their seats as a screen was lowered from above the stage.

  “Hey, do we get to sample the food?” Holly asked. “Quality control?”

  “No, that is one department Fernando is actually handling. He was here earlier, approving everything with the chefs, before he went to attend to Aunt Louise.”

  “Rats!” She snapped her fingers, cute as could be.

  Which made him want to kiss her.

  Which was more irrational thinking he’d need to get a handle on.

  Kissing was only for show, when people were watching. No more recreational kissing. The Empire State Building kissing shouldn’t have happened. Where he’d thought he might have been able to keep kissing Holly until the end of the world.

  His body quirked even now, remembering.

  He locked his attention on the screen as the presentation began with a graphic of the company logo and some sprightly music. A slick narrator’s voice explained a montage of all the Benton Worldwide projects that had been started or completed during the past year.

  In another montage employees were shown holding babies, celebrating their children’s college graduations, tossing a football at company picnics.

  A historical section flashed older photos—one of Uncle Mel and Ethan’s father, Joseph, holding shovels at a groundbreaking ceremony.

  “That is my dad.” Ethan pointed. His heart pinged as the image quickly gave way to the next photo. Joseph had died when he was nine. Twenty-five years ago. “I do not remember much about him anymore,” he admitted.

  Holly put a hand on his shoulder. He prickled, but didn’t pull away despite his automatic itch to do so.

  “Tell me one thing you do remember about him.”

  “That photo shows him in a suit. I can only think of him in a casual work shirt. Uncle Mel was the businessman. My father was always at the construction sites.”

  One glimpse of memory Ethan did have of his father was of when he’d come home from work at night. He’d greet Ethan and then head straight to the shower to wash off his honest day’s work.

  His mother was not a part of that picture. She would sequester herself in her private bedroom before Ethan came home from school, and there she’d stay throughout the evening. It had been a nanny who’d tended to Ethan in the afternoon.

  Another older photo had clients at a job site, with Joseph in a hard hat on one side of them and Uncle Mel and Aunt Louise on the other side.

  “Do you have any pictures that include your mother?”

  “Oh, she was in that shot. We had her edited out. We cut her out of every photo.”

  Holly tilted her head, not understanding. “Why?”

  Now he shook Holly’s hand off his shoulder. He couldn’t take her touch.

  “Because we did not want her in any way associated with Benton Worldwide.”

  “But why?”

  “My father and Uncle Mel worked hard for every dollar they made. They earned it. They deserved it. And they were loyal to the people who were loyal to them. Values my mother cared nothing for.”

  Ethan’s blood pressure rose, notifying him to end this conversation. When Holly started to ask another question, his glare shut her down.

  Another photo documented him and Aunt Louise in front of a gleaming high-rise building. “Ah, the Peachwood Center in Atlanta. One of my favorites.”

  The last photo had Aunt Louise surrounded by ten or so Benton executives in front of their headquarters. Even though in reality Ethan had been running the company since Aunt Louise’s health had begun to fail, he still made sure that she got all the credit and glory.

  “Is everything correct on the video, Mr. Benton?” the technician called from the back of the ballroom.

  “Yes—thank you.”

  “May I trouble you for one more thing, sir? Can I get an okay for sound and lighting on the dance floor?”

  Ethan stood and made his way to the polished wooden floor in the center of the ballroom. Fully surrounded by the burgundy carpet and the tables defining the perimeter, the dance floor was its own little world, and it was lit as such with a yellow tint and spotlights beaming down from the ceiling.

  “Mr. Benton, we’d like to check the lighting with some movement. Would you be able to find someone to do a quick waltz around the dance floor for me?”

  Naturally Ethan gestured to Holly. Stretching out his arm, he beckoned. “So, we dance again.”

  * * *

  Holly stood and navigated between the tables in the empty ballroom to reach Ethan on the dance floor. She envisioned what he had described—how tomorrow night the room would be filled with well-dressed shareholders gaping at her. Not giving in to panic, she reminded herself that she was here to do a job. To supply what she’d offered.

  A love ballad suitable for ballroom dancing began from the sound system. Ethan started to dance and Holly’s body fell in line with his.

  He’d taught her well last night, and although she didn’t think she could pull off any fancy ballroom dance moves she didn’t trip all over his feet.

  The lights were so bright on the dance floor that she could hardly see out to the tables. Which didn’t matter that much because she really only wanted to close her eyes and enjoy the moment. The croon of the singer... Ethan’s sure steps... His rock-sturdy chest...

  Dancing with him, she thought they really were a couple—an entity that was larger than the sum of two individuals.

  Ah... Her head fit so well underneath his chin as they danced. Being tall, she’d always had a sense of herself as being gawky around Ricky and the other men she had dated. She loved being encompassed by Ethan’s height and width. As they glided across the dance floor, she felt graceful. A fairy princess. A prom queen. The object of attention.

  All things she wasn’t.

  How would it be tomorrow, with a roomful of guests scrutinizing her? They wouldn’t think she was beautiful enough for a man like Ethan! Everyone would know that she wasn’t pedigreed and educated. They’d wonder why a Benton had settled for someone as ordinary as her.

  Although she would be wearing the magnificent sky-blue gown covered in crystals. That gown alone would convince leaders and kings that she was one of them. Her hair and makeup would be professionally done. The smoke and mirrors tricks would be believable.

  She’d hobnobbed with the New York elite last night and no one had guessed that she was not of their social standing. They hadn’t known that she’d grown up in a trailer park with an unmarried mother who’d been too drunk to get out of bed half of the time.

  Of course at the gala Ethan’s fiancée would be under closer examination.

  She tilted her head back to study her hand on Ethan’s shoulder. Just as she had last night, she actually missed wearing the gargantuan diamond ring that labeled her Ethan’s intended. She thought back to the paper ring he had used to propose to her. When he had bent down on one knee with a ring made from a beer bottle label.

  And then she flashed back to the shopping spree on Fifth Avenue. To the blue topaz ring she had loved. But Ethan was right, of course. The ring he’d chosen was one befitting the future Mrs. Benton.

  Leaning back further, to look up into Ethan’s handsome face, she asked him, “Being in the spotlight doesn’t faze you in the least?”

  “I suppose I have always been visible to the shareholders. They watched me grow up.”

  “You came to the galas as a child?”

  His muscles twitched. “When I was younger I was kept upstairs in a suite with
my mother, who hated these evenings. We would come down and make an appearance.”

  Holly had noticed that Ethan’s voice became squeezed every time his mother came up in conversation. Hints of rage had come spitting out when he’d explained how they had edited her out of all the photos in the slideshow.

  “Wasn’t your mother obligated to attend?” Holly persisted.

  “She would call the kitchen to find out exactly what time dinner was being served. A half-hour before she would trot me down here in a tuxedo. We would do our annual mother-and-son spin around this dance floor. Then she would tug me to the exit, offering excuses that it was my bedtime or that she had a migraine.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “He was not much the tuxedo-and-martini type, but he would soldier through alone. My mother was not gracious, like Aunt Louise. She would not mingle and exchange pleasantries with the guests. Not even to support my father. He knew that she was not an asset to the company.”

  “Was it awful for you, being paraded around?”

  “Not really. I understood at an early age that my mother was not good for business but that I was. Whether it had been a profitable year or a struggle, seeing that there was a next generation of leadership instilled confidence in the shareholders. I have always been proud to represent our company.”

  “Is your mother still alive?”

  “I have no idea,” he bit out. “Nor do I care in the least. I have always assumed the shareholders believe that she went into seclusion and retired from public life after my father died.”

  With that, he tightened his hold around Holly’s waist, bolted her against him and guided her with an absolute command that started at the top of his head and ended at the tip of his toes.

  Holly molded herself to him and allowed his confident lead. Knowing that talk of his mother had unleashed the beast that he had now locked back into the cage inside him.

  As they circled the music got louder, then softer. The low bass tones became more pronounced and then were corrected. Lights were adjusted as well, becoming hotter, then diffused and milky.

  “Just one minute more, Mr. Benton!” the technician announced.

  The music changed to a swinging standard.

  Ethan relaxed his grip and backed Holly away to arm’s distance ready for a quickstep. He twirled her once under his arm. She stumbled and they chuckled into each other’s eyes.

  His head tilted to the side. They leaned in toward each other’s smiles. Drawn to each other.

  Out of the corner of her eye Holly saw Aunt Louise’s husband, Fernando, enter the ballroom and scurry toward them.

  When they had come to the apartment for dinner she had noticed the way Fernando walked with small, mincing steps. She hadn’t liked how he had snooped at the things on Ethan’s desk and taken a fax from the machine. And she had overheard him telling Ethan that he didn’t want to spend his life in Barbados when Louise retired.

  But at this moment it was important for them to unify for the sake of Louise. Since the older woman wasn’t well today, Ethan and Fernando had taken charge of the final details for the gala. Ethan had to be grateful for whatever help Fernando was offering. Perhaps he had a report on the status of the menu...

  “I’ve been trying to call you!” Fernando approached and yapped at Ethan.

  Ethan glanced over to one of the empty tables, where he had left his phone while he was on stage at the podium and while he and Holly had danced. “Is everything in order?” he asked.

  “No, it’s not. Louise has taken a bad fall. I’ve called the paramedics.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  ETHAN LED THE charge out of the ballroom and toward the hotel elevators, with Fernando and Holly racing behind him to keep up. When they reached the bronze elevator bank Ethan rapped the call button incessantly until one set of doors opened. Pressing for the twenty-sixth floor as soon as he’d stepped in, he backed against the gilded and mirrored wall of the elevator car.

  His neck muscles pulsed. As the elevator ascended he kept his eyes peeled on the digital read-out of the floor numbers.

  One, two, seven, twelve...

  “What happened?” He forced the question out of a tight throat.

  “Louise had been resting on the sofa in the suite’s living room,” Fernando reported. “She stood up and said she was going to make a phone call. Then, as she started to walk, she tripped on the coffee table and fell face-forward.”

  “Why did you not help her get up from the sofa in the first place?” Ethan seethed.

  “She didn’t tell me she was going to stand up. She just did it. I rushed to her, but it was too late.”

  Ethan’s jaw ground as he fought to keep himself together. This incompetent idiot should have never been allowed to care for Aunt Louise. She was going to need full-time nurses. He’d arrange that immediately.

  The read-out reached twenty-three, twenty-four...

  On the twenty-sixth floor, Ethan pushed through the elevator doors before they had fully opened. Holly and Fernando followed. At the room’s door, he snatched the key card from Fernando’s hand.

  Ethan rushed into the suite. “Aunt Louise?”

  Louise sat on the floor with her back against the sofa. Angry scrapes had left red stripes across her right cheek and her knees. She massaged her wrist.

  “I’m all right, dear,” she assured him in a fairly steady voice. “Don’t embarrass me any more than I’ve already embarrassed myself.”

  “There is no reason to be embarrassed,” Ethan said, trying to soothe her. These incidences must be so humiliating for her. She’d always been such an able woman.

  “Falls happen,” Fernando chimed in. “We’ve been here before, Louise. You’ll be fine.”

  Ethan fired a piercing glower at Fernando. He didn’t need to try to make light of the situation.

  “Oh, goodness. Holly!” Louise spotted Holly standing back from them. She managed a dry smile. “Somehow I’ve become an old woman.”

  “Thank goodness you weren’t hurt worse.” Holly nodded her respect.

  “At this point we do not know if or how much she is injured,” Ethan snapped, angry with everyone. “She needs to be examined.”

  Right on cue, there was a soft knock on the door. Ethan let in the hotel manager, who confirmed that they were expecting paramedics. Two emergency medical technicians filed in.

  One checked Louise’s vital signs, such as her blood pressure and heart-rate. He shone a small light into her eyes. Another technician asked questions about her medical history and what had happened.

  While that was going on Ethan noticed Fernando pouring himself a cocktail. Holly had noticed too.

  He and Holly raised eyebrows at each other. This was hardly a time for drinks.

  Ethan clenched his fists and mashed his lips tightly. He stood silently.

  Fernando had accused Ethan at dinner the other night of finding himself a wife just so that Louise would retire. Fernando had said he had no intention of spending his life on boring Barbados, as he characterized it, with Louise.

  So, following that logic, Fernando should be doing everything he could to try to keep Louise as healthy as possible. Yet he obviously didn’t bother with trivial matters, such as protecting her from falling. And now—with paramedics in the room, no less—he clearly thought it was cocktail hour.

  “There don’t appear to be any broken bones,” one of the technicians informed them. “But, given her overall medical condition, we’re going to transport her to the hospital for a more complete evaluation.”

  Ethan brought a hand over his mouth, overcome with worry. This woman had shown him so much love—had gone above and beyond the call of duty for him his entire life. Maybe his caring so much for his aunt was a sign. That he was capable of loyalty. Of devotion.

&n
bsp; He refused his inclination to look over to Holly.

  The technician issued instructions into his phone.

  Fernando walked over to pat Louise gently on the shoulder in between sips of his drink.

  “Can we take her down in a private elevator?” Ethan asked the manager, who waited quietly beside the door. “And out through a private garage? Many of our shareholders are staying here at the hotel, and we would like to keep this matter to ourselves.”

  “Of course, Mr. Benton.”

  Fernando settled himself closer to where Ethan was standing. “Clever...” he said under his breath. “Always thinking about image. I’ve got a little surprise for you with regards to that.”

  Ethan whipped his head to look into Fernando’s eyes. “What on earth are you talking about at a time like this?” he demanded.

  Two more paramedics came through the door with a stretcher.

  Louise protested, “Oh, please, gentlemen—a wheelchair would do.”

  “It’s for your protection, ma’am.”

  “I will ride in the ambulance with Louise,” Ethan declared.

  “No. I will,” Fernando countered.

  “Family only, please,” one of the technicians said over his shoulder as he secured Louise onto the stretcher.

  “I’m her husband.”

  “I am coming as well,” Ethan insisted.

  To the outside eye they must look like an odd sort of family. Elderly Aunt Louise. Nephew Ethan, who was probably being mistaken for her son, and Holly for his wife. Then Fernando, with his tanning salon skin and over-styled hair, who looked exactly the part of a cougar’s husband.

  The hotel manager headed the pack as the technicians began wheeling the stretcher out of the suite. Fernando and Ethan followed closely behind.

  Ethan turned his head back to Holly. “You go home to the apartment.”

  “I’d like to come to the hospital, too.”

  Irritated at even having to discuss this further, Ethan repeated his order. “There is no need for you to be at the hospital. Go back to the apartment.”