by J. S. Scott
“It could have waited, but I did want to speak with you. What did you think of Emily Harris?”
Nothing I could say to my mother, Asher thought. He pushed away the image of her perfectly rounded ass as she’d bent to retrieve something from beneath a chair in Ryan’s office. “Why do you ask?”
“Thank you for seeing her today. From the first time I heard it, her story moved me. Your father felt the same way.”
“How well do you know her, Mom?”
“Not very, but she spent this afternoon with us, and she is just as sweet and earnest in person as she sounded on the phone. I hated to see her leave. She gave us a painting her mother had made. It’s the most incredible thing. When you look at it, you miss the beauty of it. It’s all one color. But if you close your eyes and run your hands over it, it’s a masterpiece. I cried. Her mother was blind; did she tell you? Remarkable.”
Asher’s hand tightened on the phone. Although part of him was interested in what his mother knew about Emily, the protective son in him was instantly on high alert. “Mom, don’t see that woman again. She is trying to use you to get me to change my mind about buying her property in New Hampshire.”
His mother laughed. “I know. She told us. She’s not a hard nut to crack. We were her Plan B. How adorable is that? She told us all about how she went to your office and warned you that you couldn’t have her land. She also told us what you said. Asher, I raised you better than that. You could have at least promised to look into alternative sites.”
Asher paced the length of his living room and growled his displeasure. “This is business, Mom.”
“I know, and normally I wouldn’t get involved, but blocking a museum for the blind from opening? Really? Asher, I can’t stand back and condone that.”
“Her museum will open, but not at its present location.”
With a pained sigh, Sophie said, “Did you know that her mother gave her that property? It was passed down from her grandfather. When she told me about how she and her mother had created the core artwork for the museum together and what it meant to her, I knew I had to call you. You can’t buy her land, Asher. Find another site for your . . . whatever.”
“Not possible. My company has invested time and money into that location.”
“Asher Dale Barrington, how often do I ask you for anything?”
Fuck. Using his middle name meant his mother was serious. “All I can promise is that I’ll contact Ms. Harris and discuss the matter with her again.”
“Thank you, Asher. I’m confident that when you hear more about her project you’ll see why you’ll have to change your plans this time.”
“Consider this handled, Mom. There is no need for you to speak with Ms. Harris again.”
“I won’t get involved in your business again, Asher, but we did enjoy Emily’s company so much we invited her to spend the weekend at our place in Nantucket. She’s never been, and there are several resident artists there who could be potential donors for her museum. I’d love to help her acquire some rare pieces. She was so grateful when I mentioned the idea to her. Even your father is excited, and it’s good for him to have something to think about besides his health.”
Oh, Emily, I underestimated you.
He smiled. He liked the challenge she presented. A rush of anticipation filled him as he considered his next move with her.
End of Excerpt from Always Mine, Book 1 of the Barrington Billionaires
Available now!
Don’t miss any of Ruth’s books. Sign up for her newsletter here
Special Preview of Xander Sinclair’s Book,
The Billionaire’s Secrets
The Sinclair Series
By J.S. Scott
Coming November 7th with Montlake Books
Prologue
Xander
Over a year earlier…
I had no idea what it felt like to be dead, but I was starting to wonder if I’d died and was paying for my life on Earth in the depths of Hell.
Every muscle in my body was twitching and burning with pain, and I couldn’t control the thoughts—or maybe they were memories—bouncing around in my brain. I tried to open my eyes, but it was too damn painful, so I was stuck with the images I couldn’t make go away.
I could remember how badly I’d needed my fix, and how I’d gone to some lowlife drug dealer to get the heroin. I’d gotten home and mixed up the injectable version of the drug, unwilling to settle for the effects of smoking or snorting it. I’d been so damn desperate that I had to have immediate relief.
I’d found the vein, and recalled the feeling of intense relief once the drug almost immediately hit my system.
After that, most of what happened was a blank until the damn paramedics had given me the mother of all shocks to my system…the opiate antidote.
Shit! I hated that medication. It had ended my oblivion, shocked my body back to being alert and hurting again.
How could those fuckers spoil my high?
“You almost died this time, Xander. What in the hell were you thinking?” a husky male voice muttered at my bedside.
I recognized the voice. It wasn’t my brother, Micah, who was here with me this time. It was Julian. What in the hell was he doing here? My middle sibling should have been out on a movie shoot. He wasn’t supposed to be back here in California.
I forgot all about what brother had come to be with me for this particular overdose. It didn’t matter. There had been plenty of others before this one, and Micah almost always was the one who bailed me out of trouble.
Unfortunately, my brain wasn’t all that functional, and all I could really think about was the intense pain of withdrawal.
Fuck! All I needed was to be high, and for everybody to leave me the hell alone. I wanted to forget my life and live in a world where all I needed to do was to get my next fix.
I was a junkie, and I was pretty sure I’d already hit rock bottom, but I’d never felt the collision because I’d been too stoned to give a damn.
My body started to shiver, and the pounding pain in my muscles traveled to my head. I hurt fucking everywhere, all because some asshole had decided to bring me back to reality.
Fuck reality! It was something I’d been trying to escape from for several years now.
“Xander! Can you hear me?” Julian asked in an urgent tone.
“Yeah. Now shut up,” I insisted in a graveled voice, knowing from experience that talking was only going to make the pain worse.
“This is bullshit,” Julian said angrily. “Why didn’t I know that you were an addict?”
I opened my eyes painfully from the hospital bed and tried to focus on my brother. “Because Micah usually comes when something happens,” I answered flatly, not caring who knew I needed drugs to survive.
I’d tried alcohol to dull the pain after my parents had been murdered and I’d pulled through my own injuries. But it wasn’t working as well as it used to, and I preferred the total oblivion of drugs. I wasn’t averse to drinking, but it took a whole pint these days to forget who I was and what had happened.
Honestly, I’d really rather have the prescription medications I’d taken for so long after my injuries three years ago, but the doctor finally decided I had to stop taking them, and refused any further prescriptions. Since then, I’d bought them on the street. When I got really desperate, I had to mix up heroin. Today had been one of those “desperate” days. Or had it been last night? Hell, I had no idea how much time had passed, but what did it matter?
“You have to stop this shit, Xander,” Julian said fiercely. “Hell, you used to hate drugs. I remember you telling me how many of your rocker friends were using, and you used to think it was moronic. What happened to you?”
I looked at his anxious expression with a twinge of remorse. Yeah, I used to hate doping. “That was in another life,” I answered.
“It’s the same damn life. The only one you have,” Julian said as he brought his fist down on the bedrail. “And it’s
still idiotic.”
“Maybe I don’t give a damn anymore. Just go. Get the fuck out of here. I never asked for anybody to come,” I answered angrily.
“I’m not going anywhere until you’re out of here,” he said stubbornly. “Then, I’m taking you back east with me where you can get your shit together. They have a rehab—”
“I’m not doing rehab again,” I growled at him, the pain of substance withdrawal clawing at every part of my body. “Why the hell can’t you and Micah just leave me alone? Micah’s involved with somebody, and you’re both happy. Go back east and let me have my goddamn freedom.”
Julian shot me a disappointed look that made me momentarily cringe as he answered, “I may not like you right now, but you’re still my little brother. You’re going with me.”
“I’m not,” I argued hoarsely.
“What’s here in California for you? You have no family here, and probably very few friends. You aren’t recording or performing again, so why do you need to stay here?”
So I can be stoned every day without anybody watching while I practically crawl to a place where I can get my next fix.
“Because I own a house here,” I argued. “It’s home.”
“Don’t give me that crap. The Sinclairs have property everywhere, and you have a home in Amesport, too. A house that Micah had built for you.”
“Told him not to bother,” I answered, not realizing that my eldest brother had followed through on his promise to bring all three of us together again by building us homes in some boring, small town on the eastern seaboard.
Julian was silent for a few moments before he took a deep breath and released it. “You’re an asshole. You know that, right?”
I shrugged. I didn’t much care what anybody thought about me anymore, not even my brothers.
He continued, “Micah is with somebody, and he’s fucking happy. For the first time in his life, I see him smile almost every damn day. He doesn’t deserve to have that joy smothered by your sorry ass. Clean your shit up, Xander. Whether you know it or not, this situation affects all of us.”
“It’s my life!”
“You’re our brother. You think Micah and I can actually be happy when we know you’re on the other side of the country trying to kill yourself? Do you know how hard it was for me and Micah when you were injured, sitting in the hospital night after night, not sure whether you were going to live or die?”
I heard Julian’s voice crack with anguish, and it was the most emotion I’d ever seen out of him in my entire life. “I’m a lost cause, Julian. Just live with it and move on.”
Honestly, I wished neither one of them would rush to California every time I did something stupid. It left me torn, and I’d hoped that Micah would finally just give up. He hadn’t. He’d just brought Julian in for backup.
“Not happening,” Julian answered stubbornly. “We aren’t giving up on you, Xander. Not ever. So live with that. We already lost Mom and Dad, and that’s as much as Micah and I can handle.”
The mention of my parents just made me want a fix, or a very large bottle of whiskey. But I had to admit that Julian’s guilt trip was getting to me. Hell, the last thing I wanted was to be responsible for making either of my brothers miserable. Did geography really matter? “Fine. I’ll go. But I’m not going to promise anything will change. I’ve been in rehab before. As you can see, I failed.”
“Do it because somewhere deep inside that selfish prick exterior, you still give a damn about me and Micah,” Julian suggested irritably.
Problem was, I actually did care about him and my elder brother. But all I wanted was for them to just go make themselves happy. I didn’t want any part of that. I was never going to change, and they’d eventually both have to accept it. “I’m doing what you want,” I told him, annoyed that he was still giving me an admonishing look. “Just go away and let me try to go back to sleep.”
“Oh, I’ll be back,” Julian warned. “I’ll be here every damn day until you’re discharged.”
“Great,” I said sarcastically.
“See ya tomorrow, little brother,” he said with a nod, then turned around and walked out the door of my hospital room.
Anger surged up inside me, and it nearly made me forget the agony that my body was going through. I sat up and noticed my hands were shaking, and my head started to pound harder from the sudden change in position.
“Fuck you,” I called out toward the door even though Julian was long gone.
I was pissed because he and Micah couldn’t just leave me alone.
In a moment of blind rage, I picked up the hospital meal that had obviously been left here while I was sleeping. With a burst of anguished fury, I flung the entire tray against the wall, slightly appeased by the sound of breaking glass and the clanging of silverware hitting the floor.
Spent, I let myself fall back onto the pillow, knowing I was even more shattered than the plates and glasses that lay in pieces on the floor.
Julian and Micah would find out just how fucked up I was, and that nobody on this Earth was ever going to be able to put me back together again.
Chapter 1
Samantha
The present…
“I hope you’re ready for this.”
I nodded at Julian Sinclair as I watched him run a frustrated hand through his hair. “I can handle it, Mr. Sinclair.”
I took another sip of my iced coffee, glad that the brother of my next so-called boss suggested meeting at a coffee shop. Brew Magic had amazing coffee, and I’d needed a pick-me-up. Who knew that the small beach town in Amesport, Maine, was making some of the best coffee I’d ever had? My ass was dragging from getting up early in the morning to drive from New York City to Maine, so I was grateful for the caffeine fix I was eagerly sucking down like it was my savior.
“You haven’t met Xander yet,” he warned ominously. “I’ve seen your references, and believe me, we did an extensive background check. And please call me Julian. There are way too many ‘Mr. Sinclairs’ in this town.”
“You do understand that I’m just a housekeeper and a cook.” I’d reminded him of this fact several times, but I wanted to make sure that he wasn’t expecting miracles.
Oh, yeah. I knew Xander Sinclair was a big hot mess. I’d done my homework before I’d come here, and I’d spoken with Julian at length on the telephone many times. I could tell he was protective of his younger brother, and worried about his state of mind.
“I get it,” Julian answered with a nod. “What I don’t understand is why you wanted to come here to Amesport. When Micah and I started putting out private feelers for somebody to help and stay with Xander, the last thing we counted on was somebody with your qualifications,” Julian replied. “Xander knows you’re a housekeeper that’s going to be here on the island for as long as possible, which God knows he really needs. But he isn’t crazy about the idea of you being in his house, much less staying with him. I think he just wants to be alone.”
The last thing Xander needed was to continue with his self-inflicted isolation. From what I’d gathered from Julian, his younger brother had been left alone long enough.
“My reasons for accepting the position are personal,” I explained. “I wanted to get away from New York City for a while. I thought a nice beach town in the summer might be a great place to hang out.”
“So you said. But you could have just gone on a vacation, right?”
I shook my head. “I like to work, and I wanted to check out things up north. I might eventually move to Maine. My grandparents had a summer cottage in this area when I was little, and I’ve always loved it.”
The memories of having our family all together at Gran’s beach house were some of the best recollections of my childhood. Unfortunately, she’d passed away when I was still in junior high school.
“It’s a hell of a lot slower paced here, and a world away from New York City.”
I shrugged. “Not everybody is cut out to live in the city.”
&n
bsp; Okay. That was a bit of a lie. I had actually liked my job in New York, and I’d miss my friends. But I wasn’t lying when I told Julian I’d needed a break.
“Xander doesn’t want you in his house. If he knew that I’m hoping you’ll stay for longer than a few months, he’d refuse completely. Hell, I’m not even sure he’ll let you in now.”
I lifted my chin. “Tough. He’ll have to get used to me being around.” I was confident about my ability to talk my way into Xander’s home. I’d dealt with a lot of badass men in New York that I was pretty certain were ornerier than Xander Sinclair.
“Don’t underestimate my little brother,” Julian warned as he took a gulp of his coffee. “He’s an asshole right now, and in worse shape than I’ve ever seen him. He’s clean, but I have a feeling he’s hanging on by a thread.”
“Can I be frank, Julian?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Xander has to want to stay clean. If he doesn’t, nothing and nobody is going to be able to keep him from going back to abusing drugs and alcohol. He’s isolated, and even though he’s close to his family physically now, he’s obviously not feeling like he’s part of the family again.”
I knew a thing or two about addicts. I’d dealt with one in my immediate family.
“He doesn’t seem to want to be part of the family again. We’ve tried,” Julian answered huskily. “I don’t know what the hell to do to make him want to stay free of drugs and alcohol. It’s like I lost my little brother, and I don’t know how to get him back.”
“I understand,” I murmured. “I’ll do what I can to help him.” At the very least, Julian’s brother would end up with a clean house. I was kind of anal about living organized and in a happy space—which for me meant a tidy living area.
“That’s all we ask,” Julian replied. “What are you going to do if he won’t let you in?”
