Romance: Unlikely Love Boxed Set - A Billionaire Romance Series (Romance, Contemporary Romance, Billionaire Romance, Unlikely Love Book 4)

by Nancy Adams

  I thought hard for a second, came up with nothing and said, “Maybe we could just sneak her to my car? It’s almost the end of the day. I doubt anyone will notice that we’re gone.”

  “And then what?” Sarah asked suspiciously.

  “I don’t know. Do whatever you planned to do with her before I came along, I guess.”

  Sarah hesitated, and I continued, “Unless you have a better plan?”

  “Well, no…”

  She then reluctantly followed me to my car, and we skipped school. It was the first time I’d ever done so, but apparently Sarah was a pro at it.

  She had me drive her to a small home in a neighborhood I wasn’t familiar with. It was on the opposite end of town from where I grew up. I saw a group of men standing on the corner, and everyone stared at my car as I pulled up. It was a new model Mercedes, a gift from my mother who had at that point been living abroad. She was a professor of classical studies and was in Greece on sabbatical. I missed her terribly.

  My first impression of Sarah’s home still stuck in my mind like it had happened the day before. It was modest, with no landscaping, weeds growing in the yard and a few older-model cars sitting in the driveway, one of them in a state of repair. And a girl about our age sat on the stoop of her front porch. She looked tough: combat boots and a short skirt with a plaid shirt tied around her waist. And up top, she had on a tight white shirt that showed her bra. A couple of teenage boys walked by her and gawked.

  “Keep moving losers,” she growled, and they practically scampered away as she got up and moved towards the car.

  “Is that a friend of yours?” I nervously asked Sarah, who smiled and yelled to the girl, “Hey, Libby! Come meet Wally. I found her hanging out on school grounds.”

  I hadn’t realized that Wally was a she.

  Sarah was already opening up the car door and leaving, not even acknowledging my previous question. I awkwardly sat there, not knowing what to say or do. I was preparing to just drive away when she suddenly remembered I was still there and said, “The headmaster’s daughter dropped me off.”

  “Headmaster? What the heck is that?” Libby looked unimpressed.

  Sarah shrugged. “I think it’s like a principal, but more important and better paid.”

  Libby raised her brows. “So you’re like a VIP. No wonder your car is so fancy. Can I drive it?”

  I didn’t know what to say as she bent down and stared at the inside of my car through the passenger window, bringing half her body in to look around. Her blonde hair, I realized then, was bleached, and her brown eyes were mischievous. Libby definitely looked like trouble. There was no way I was going to let her drive my car.

  I looked down at my hands, not knowing exactly how to say no to Libby, but Sarah interrupted.

  “Libby, this is Marie. Marie, this is Libby. She’s my neighbor and best friend.”

  “Best friend by default…I’m the only person who understands her accent.”

  “Ha ha,” Sarah said dryly and rolled her eyes at Libby, who just smiled. She was clearly joking and I felt uncomfortable, not really knowing how to “joke” with other kids my age.

  I smiled tightly and mumbled that I should leave when Sarah said, “Hey, you want to go see a movie with me and Libby tonight?”

  I shook my head instantly. They seemed nice and all, but I knew I would seem even more awkward actually “hanging out” when I wasn’t exactly the hanging-out kind.

  “You helped save Wally. Come on, it’s my treat.”

  “What?” interjected Libby, “It’s not as if she’s hurting for money.”

  “Libby!”

  “What?”

  Sarah shook her head. “Sorry. She’s grows on you.”

  “Like a fungus,” Libby quipped, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I found myself loosening up and wanting to get to know both of them better. They were different from anyone I’d ever met. Sarah rescued animals, it seemed like, and Libby scared boys. They definitely weren’t your average girls. And they readily wanted to include me. I wasn’t used to that. It was like they didn’t really care who I was. Yeah, Libby was impressed by the car, but she looked at me with genuine interest in her friendly eyes.

  “I guess I could go see a movie with you guys…” I said shyly.

  And for the first time of my teenage life, I got in trouble with my father. He was furious when I came home later that evening, especially when I didn’t look contrite at all. Not to say I didn’t try, but I’d had so much fun with Libby and Sarah that it was hard wiping the smile off my face. Father grounded me for a month, giving me a long lecture about responsibility, but instead of feeling terrible, I went to bed that evening smiling. For the first time in a long time, I had made a friend. Actually, two friends. We had spent the evening watching one movie and then sneaking into another. Then, we’d gone back to Libby’s home, and her grandmother had made us all the best cookies I’d ever tasted, before I eventually left to face my father’s wrath. That night cemented our friendship.

  And as I pulled my thoughts away from my past, I forced myself to focus on my present. But my present wasn’t looking so good; my face fell and I started to cry as Sarah and Libby pulled me into a group hug. In that moment, I didn’t have to worry about appearances or what anyone else thought, I was just able to feel, and what I felt wasn’t sadness that I had been duped, but shame and hurt that I had mistaken Philip’s greed for love.

  Chapter Two

  “Are you sure about this?” the girls asked me.

  “More than sure. One hundred percent certain.”

  There was a pause, and then both Libby and Sarah said at the same time, “Maybe you should reconsider.”

  “No. My mind is made up.” I said this while carefully folding a pantsuit and slipping it into my bag. I stopped and considered what else I should pack. I looked at my swimsuit, feeling wishy-washy about the loud polka-dot pink print and then decided, what the heck, I might as well take it.

  “I just don’t think maybe this is the best time for you to be alone,” Sarah said, trying to sound convincing.

  “I like being alone,” I said, looking around my condo to be sure I hadn’t left anything on. I was in a rush given that I wanted to get out of town before anyone could stop me and hadn’t been expecting the call from Sarah, who’d then called Libby to convince me not to leave.

  It had been two months since the incident. And I was tired of moping and feeling like a loser. I needed to get out and do something, anything. So I had decided on a vacation. I hadn’t ever been on one alone as an adult, so I was more nervous than I cared to admit. My parents and I had gone on an annual family vacation every year when I was growing up. However, I found that after I finished college, I hadn’t had time for those trips any longer, so my parents had gone without me.

  I had busied myself volunteering and sitting on different charity boards around the city immediately after college. Although I had been a fine arts major, I spent most of my time helping my mother with her art gallery. Mom had retired from teaching, and as expected, she hadn’t just sat around enjoying retirement. Instead, she launched an entirely new career representing up-and-coming artists. And of course, she was successful at it. I did the marketing, IT stuff and planned the events associated with the gallery. I was pretty much her go-to person. I guess my job title, if I had been getting paid, would have been executive assistant or maybe event planner? I wasn’t too sure.

  I had actually asked her if maybe she could start paying me a salary, since Kenneth, or should I say, Philip, had run off with the majority of my inheritance. It had been a humbling experience to ask my mother for money, to say the least, even though technically I worked for her and had earned it.

  So when I was looking for a vacation spot, it had to be somewhere cheap and I turned to my granny’s long-term friend, who was an avid traveler, for recommendations. Her friend, who I secretly expected was her boyfriend, didn’t know of many places that I could visit on a budget, since he never did
anything on a budget. But as he sat there tapping his chin, he remembered that his son had recently gotten back from vacation and had come back recharged and a completely different person. I figured that was exactly what I needed. He had his son text me the web address for the resort, and I booked my stay online. I bit the bullet and booked my own little cottage at the resort for a month. It seemed crazy, but I had to get away from my hometown and from everyone who knew me. An extended vacation was exactly what I needed. I assumed that everyone outside my family and close friends would think I was going to rehab or something, but it didn’t matter; my sanity was at stake. I couldn’t care less about my reputation, not that it wasn’t already ruined after the whole Kenneth/Philip debacle. Plus, the people who surrounded me on a daily basis were driving me crazy with their pitying looks.

  I was tired of the looks. I was tired of people wondering if I was broke. I was tired of everything associated with the day I found out my husband was a criminal. Hence, I was looking forward to disappearing for a little while.

  “I’ll be fine. You guys need to stop worrying about me. I’m fine. Everything’s great. A vacation away from it all is exactly what I need.”

  “You keep saying that, but we’re not convinced,” Libby said bluntly.

  “I’m not the impulsive type, as you guys know. I thoroughly weigh the pros and cons of all my decisions.”

  “Yet, you eloped!” Libby hissed.

  “She was in love!” Sarah came to my defense.

  I sighed deeply. “At least, I thought I was in love. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

  “Being in love isn’t a mistake,” Sarah said.

  “Thinking you’re in love when you’re not IS a mistake,” Libby said matter-of-factly.

  “You’re being cruel,” Sarah snapped, running out of patience with Libby.

  “I’m being honest. Besides, I always figured he was a loser.”

  I ignored them both and said pointedly, “Anyway ladies, that one act of impulsiveness taught me that I was right the whole time. Being impulsive leads to disasters. As such, you can rest assured that I didn't make this decision without actually thinking about it carefully and weighing my options. Unfortunately, I just didn’t have all that many options that were affordable.”

  “You could have borrowed money from me,” Sarah offered readily. “And Libby’s been saving up forever…”

  “Hey! Did you really just offer my money?”

  “Yep.”

  “Ladies, ladies,” I interrupted before they started bickering. “Libby, I know you’re saving for a down payment on a house, so I’m not asking for your money. And before you say another word—”

  Libby sounded contrite as she immediately cut me off. “Honestly, Marie, if you need money, I don’t mind lending you—”

  “Stop,” I said, feeling grateful to have such great friends. “I’m not borrowing money from you, Libby. Or you either, Sarah. So do not offer. I won’t take it. I feel in my bones that this vacation is a great decision and surprisingly affordable. Just because neither of you have ever heard of Wheatonville, Texas doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t go.”

  “You’re right: That’s the part that worries me. No one has ever heard of this place before. It’s like in the middle of nowhere,” Sarah mumbled.

  “Yeah, I’m scared you’re going to be living in a cabin with no indoor plumbing or central heating. That’s like a horror story waiting to happen. I mean really, what kind of name is Clandestine Resorts anyway? Sounds creepy,” Libby added.

  “Wow, Libby. Thanks for scaring me. I appreciate that. Anyway, it came highly recommended,” I said, now feeling defensive because I felt they clearly no longer trusted my judgment. “Listen, you two know me better than that. Trust me on this. I’ve only had one judgment lapse my entire adult life. Kenneth aka Philip was that lapse. And now that’s over. So let’s change the subject, please. I looked over the pamphlet that came in the mail. This place comes highly recommended. I’m sure it’ll be great. A great retreat from it all.”

  “Is that the line the Yelp reviews are feeding you?” Libby said sarcastically.

  “Actually, no,” I said feeling smug for one-upping her. “It’s so exclusive that it doesn’t even have reviews.”

  “Scary,” Libby said in a monotone voice that made me smile this time.

  “You’re not helping,” Sarah spoke up.

  “Good,” Libby said, and I laughed.

  “Listen I have to go. My plane leaves in three hours. I need to get there early.”

  “You live ten minutes away from the airport,” Sarah needlessly reminded me.

  “Yes, but anything could happen between my home and the airport. The road could be closed. The car could run out of gas. There could be a freak thunderstorm.” I listed off a few more random emergencies that were far-fetched.

  After I was done, there was silence on the phone.

  “Hello?” I said curiously. “Are you guys still there?”

  “Yeah, we didn’t want to interrupt. We weren’t sure if you were done listing every natural disaster possible, most of which have never occurred here or anywhere for that matter. “

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure we’re safe from another ice age,” Libby quipped.

  “Mock me all you want. I just believe in being prepared. And on that note, I bid you ladies adieu.”

  “Well, have a great time,” Sarah said, reluctantly.

  “Call us if you need anything. We’ll miss you! Be careful. Take a gun. Everyone has one in Texas,” Libby added for good measure.

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ll call when I get there. Bye, ladies.” I hung up and quickly finished packing. A few minutes later, my phone rang unexpectedly. I was deciding whether or not to answer it, figuring it was Sarah or Libby again, but it was the taxi service.

  “I’ll be right down,” I said, before grabbing my luggage and racing out of the door to the elevators.

  * * *

  The trip from Massachusetts to Texas was pretty uneventful, and a resort van waited for me as soon as I exited the airport. I was feeling a little harried since my luggage had gotten lost somehow, so I was already in a bad mood when I stepped out on the curb and saw the quirky little van with pink and yellow flowers advertising Clandestine Resorts.

  A woman waved at me from the inside of the van when she saw me staring at it and called through the window, “Are you Marie van Basten?”

  “Yes. I guess you’re from the resort?”

  “I sure am. Climb aboard, young lady.” She gave me a beatific smile, and I walked up to the van hesitantly, not knowing if I was expected to ride up front with her or in the back. She patted the seat next to her, and I shrugged and climbed in. I literally had to climb since the van was so high up.

  I landed next to her and she laughed. “It’s quite a climb. Don’t I know it.”

  She didn’t ask where my luggage was, which I found interesting, and instead just drove off, chatting the entire time. She asked me a lot of questions about myself. I wasn’t accustomed to such personal questions from a stranger, so I answered pretty stiffly. She didn’t seem to notice. She reminded me of a grandmother from television. She was jovial, round in the middle, and had a questionable perm. My grandmother, although the most approachable of my relatives, was exactly the opposite. She was always pretty serious, swam every day to keep her figure, and only had her hair cut by the best stylists in the area. I missed her already.

  “Don’t worry, doll. You’ll have a great time. Just like the pamphlet promised. Did you like it, by the way? I made it myself.”

  I was taken aback by her perceptiveness. I was actually getting a little nervous. She was able to read my emotions too easily, so I was grateful that she had changed the subject to focus instead on the pamphlet.

  “Oh, the pamphlet was great. Very informative. It was so well done. Do you have a background in graphic design?”

  “Something like that,” she mumbled, and then gestured ahead of us. “Here
we are! Home sweet home.”

  I looked in front of us at the huge gate that seemed to appear out of nowhere. The area we were in was considered hill country, I had read. It was beautiful, with lots of peaks and valleys that dotted the landscape. I eagerly awaited my first view of the resort, and as the automatic gates opened, I realized that the resort was dotted with little cottages positioned on nearly every hill, and what looked like a private residence sat in the middle of the area on a large rock mass. A long driveway that steadily ascended led to the large, traditional-style home. It was pretty stunning. I guessed this was the main house, as the pamphlet had referred to it. It housed all the residents who actually had made the resort home. In fact, it looked more like a home than a resort. The whole scene in front of me read as peaceful, tranquil and unique. It definitely wasn’t your average corporate-run resort, that’s for sure. Somehow, the buildings looked like part of the environment, instead of placed in the environment.

  I had booked what was call the Cinnamon Cottage, and I was looking forward to seeing it. According to the website, it was right next to a natural lake, and it was rustic and had its own fireplace.

  The driver, who insisted I call her Gail, pulled up to the main house and said, “The lobby’s right ahead of you. See you around!”

  She then waved and pulled off after I was safely on the ground. I walked through the large doors of the main house and up to the reception desk. Two guys sat there sipping drinks and commenting on the flavor.

  “I think this would taste so much better if the chia seeds were left out,” said the guy with the long beard. He resembled the guitarist for ZZ Top and was dressed in flip flops, a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. The other guy, who looked like Willie Nelson, seemed to be chewing his drink, which made me stare at him curiously. He was about to answer when the ZZ-Top guy noticed me.

  “Hey there!” he called cheerfully, not getting up. “We have ourselves a visitor, Mark.”