The Broke Billionaire

by Ann Omasta

  She knew if she saw him again that it would take all of her strength not to pour her heart out to him and beg for any small piece of his life that he was willing to share with her. She refused to give a man that much power over her––especially not one who was used to wielding power over everyone. As much as it pained her, she held true to her decision not to contact him again.

  That didn’t stop her from Googling him, though. She knew from her past stalking adventure of him not to do an image search. She didn’t care to see a bevy of beautiful babes hanging on his elbow. That would only serve as a cruel reminder that she would never be enough for such a man.

  Instead, she decided to look for some dirt on him. What better way could there be to get over a man than to find out some juicy gossip that would ruin the perfect impression he had made on her?

  She quickly discovered the flaw with her master plan to get over Trey…there wasn’t any dirt on him. Every article she found raved about the generous programs he had set up to share his wealth, the scholarships he gave to underprivileged youth, and the donations of both money and time that he made to various charities.

  The more she searched, the more frustrated she became. Who had ever heard of a sexy, kind-hearted, funny, generous billionaire? Didn’t the man have any flaws?!? He couldn’t have gotten to be so wealthy and powerful without being a bit of a jerk, could he?

  She did finally find a picture of him building a house with Habitat for Humanity where he had a serious case of sweaty hat-head, apparently from wearing a hard hat. “Wow. Talk about grasping at straws,” she chastised herself aloud for not being able to come up with any real flaws that Trey exhibited.

  Slamming her laptop closed in frustration, she decided that he liked sweets a little too much and that he might eventually get a little bit of a pooch around the belly. The fact that he liked to jog popped into her head and shot that one down. Besides, he could probably make a spare tire around the middle look good. The man was absolutely infuriating! And sexy.

  Realizing that she had wasted too much time on the internet already this morning, she grabbed her purple messenger bag to head to work. It was still really dark, so the extra car that was sitting in her driveway made her do a double-take.

  After the initial concern passed that someone might be lurking about and waiting for her, she knew exactly what this was. Beside her beat-up yellow Bug sat a white convertible Mercedes with a giant red bow on it.

  “He thinks he can buy my affection,” she fumed as she drove her ancient car to the bakery. “He clearly doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.”

  Ellie was surprised when she pulled into the back lot to see that Marcy was already there. Her internet perusal must have taken even longer than she realized because the other woman never got to work before her.

  The high-pitched trill of Marcy’s laughter caught Ellie off-guard. When she heard the low rumbling voice, she knew who must be here without yet seeing him. Sure enough, Trey’s lower half was sticking out from under the bakery’s industrial-sized stainless steel sink.

  “The garbage disposal’s on the fritz again,” Marcy informed her as Ellie stood in the doorway gaping at the scene before her. Marcy had been sitting on the counter with her legs swinging happily, but jumped down quickly when she saw her boss’s wide-eyed look.

  “There must be a cheaper plumber in town,” Ellie deadpanned.

  “Not really.” Trey popped his head out to grin at her. “I work for cupcakes. YOUR cupcakes,” he clarified.

  “Don’t you have big, international conglomerates to run and take over?” she asked him.

  “Is that what you think I do?” He and Marcy chuckled like she had just told a great joke.

  “Well, I don’t really know what you do, but I’m fairly certain you don’t spend your time fixing garbage disposals, so don’t let us keep you from your more important business.”

  He looked taken aback by her abruptness, but he kept his tone light. “Oh, I’m not leaving without my payment, ma’am.” He looked impossibly handsome when he leaned in to kiss her cheek before saying, “Besides, what could be more important than making sure everything in your kitchen is in working order?”

  “Umm, whatever it is that you normally do. It’s time for you to go back to your regularly scheduled life. You can’t hide out here forever.” She wasn’t sure where that last part came from, but she wondered if it was true. Was he hiding from the pressures of his daily life in her little town? “Oh, and take that car too. It was a nice gesture, but I can’t accept it.”

  “I didn’t realize I was bothering you.” He looked hurt, but she felt determined not to show any chinks in her armor. She had to make him go before she got to the point where she wouldn’t be able to let him go. “I’ll go,” he said, but he stood there like he was waiting for her to stop him.

  She nodded, acknowledging that he needed to leave. The downtrodden look on his face nearly melted her heart, but she remained strong as he turned to go. When he turned back to her, she couldn’t stop the jolt of hope that surged through her veins. “Can I get some cupcakes for the road?”

  She hated that disappointment coursed through her with the knowledge that her cupcakes were all he wanted. She blinked back the tears as she stuffed a few of yesterday’s raspberry cupcakes with cream cheese frosting into a colorful to-go box. They were probably stale, but it served him right for only caring about her baked goods, rather than saying he would miss her.

  Even though she was staring at the wall, she felt his warmth when he came up behind her. He leaned in close to her ear and revealed, “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad you ran over me, Ellie Thorne.” Depositing a thick black, gold-embossed business card on the counter in front of her, he said, “Call me anytime. I will always be available for you.”

  Then he was gone. Ellie let out the breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding and sagged against the counter. She immediately missed his warmth at her back.

  “Dammmmmn, girl,” Marcy chimed in, startling Ellie, since she had forgotten the other woman was there. “How can you let that rich, hunk of hotness leave? If he looked at me like he just looked at you, I would have mounted him like my own personal stallion and rode him around the bend and back again before I sent him home, if you know what I’m saying.” The woman emphasized her crass statement with a sharp elbow jab to Ellie’s side.

  Ellie wasn’t exactly sure what she meant, but she got the general idea, and she didn’t dare ask for clarification for fear that the other woman might share some details that she didn’t want to hear.

  “He’s not right for me,” Ellie told her absentmindedly, since Marcy seemed to be waiting for an explanation.

  “Well, I’d at least give him a go,” Marcy advised, shaking her head as she donned her apron and sauntered to the front of the store to prepare for opening.

  From the small tastes of him that she’d had, Ellie knew that one ‘go’ with him wouldn’t be nearly enough. She was an all-or-nothing kind of gal, and she felt certain that Trey couldn’t give her his all. So, she would have to settle for nothing.

  Opting not to wallow in her sorrow, Ellie threw herself into her work. She probably made far too many batches of everything, but baking took her mind off the burning ball of fire in her chest that was her heart.

  10

  The women ended up working late, and surprisingly, had gone through all of the extra batches of brownies, cookies, and soft pretzels (both sea salt and her personal favorite, cinnamon-sugar) that Ellie had stress-baked. When Ellie asked her why she thought they had been so busy, Marcy confirmed her fears that it had been due to Trey. “Word got around town that he was here, and people were hoping for a glimpse of him, I guess.” Marcy shrugged her shoulders.

  Ellie used the lookie-loos as another reason that she was smart to steer clear of any further contact with Trey. “I don’t need that kind of constant attention in my life,” she muttered to herself as she drove home and fell into bed, utterly exhaus
ted.

  The alarm seemed to come especially early and jarred her out of a steamy and delicious dream rendezvous with Trey. She normally woke up a few minutes before her alarm sounded, and she rarely remembered her dreams so vividly. Both were a little disconcerting.

  She found herself being extra cautious on her drive to work. The memory of the icy fear sluicing through her veins when she hit Trey was still fresh in her mind. Her eyes kept wandering to the side of the road, searching for a sexy jogging billionaire. As much as she knew it was in her best interest not to see him again, she couldn’t stop wanting just that.

  The crowd outside the bakery when she pulled up distracted her from searching for any signs of him. The line of people was wrapped around the building. There were far more customers here waiting on her than had visited her store on its busiest day, and those visits had been spread throughout the day…not waiting for her to arrive.

  “What in the world?” she wondered aloud as she pulled to the back door, parked in her usual spot, and began the process of opening.

  Deciding it would be best not to ignore the throng of people outside, she unlocked the front door and tentatively stuck her head out. “It’s going to be a while before anything is ready,” she warned them.

  “That’s okay,” a perky woman towards the front of the line responded. “Trey Donovan tweeted that this place had the best cupcakes in the world. He can afford the best of everything, so if they’re his favorites, I have to try some. I’ll wait all day, if I have to.”

  Ellie wondered what these people did for a living that they had the freedom to stand in line in the middle of the night to get cupcakes based on a tweeted recommendation. She felt like rolling her eyes at them, but refrained because this extra boost of business would be a huge help with the impending medical bills that she knew were coming.

  “I’ll take a dozen of whatever flavor Trey Donovan likes best,” the tall, grungy looking fellow, who was first in line, informed her.

  “Ohhh, what does he like the best?” the first woman who had spoken inquired of Ellie. “I want to have exactly what he had,” she announced dreamily.

  Ellie had to remove herself from the situation before she decked the woman. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her so much to see the glazed-eyed, far-away expression that came over the lady’s face when she talked about Trey, but Ellie didn’t like it one bit.

  “I’ll get things started,” Ellie told the crowd at large, which made them clap and whistle like she had just announced that she had found the cure for cancer.

  Shaking her head and donning her apron, she decided to just dig into her work and not worry about Trey or his tweets. It had been kind of him to mention her shop, so she would do her best to live up to his recommendation.

  Hours later, she and Marcy were both filthy and exhausted, but they had successfully filled everyone’s orders. They were just chiming together two mugs of English Breakfast tea when a tall and gorgeous, but prim woman in a smart business suit arrived.

  “We’re closed,” Marcy informed her in a no-nonsense tone.

  Marcy’s curt response to a customer would have normally bothered Ellie, but at this moment she was simply too tired to care. The customer ignored the rude announcement and proceeded to parade around the front of the bakery as if she owned it.

  The woman dripped classiness. Everything from her neatly coiffed blonde chignon to her tailored navy business suit and obviously expensive pumps were understated and elegant. When Ellie caught a whiff of her light, floral perfume, she guessed that the woman was from the city. No one in town was so perfectly refined.

  It wasn’t a huge surprise when she dropped a dark, thick business card on the counter that looked remarkably familiar. “Millie Parks,” she introduced herself to the two bedraggled bakery workers, “Executive Assistant to Mr. Trey Donovan.”

  She said the words haughtily as if the other women should bow down before her. Ellie disliked her instantly and wondered if Trey had slept with her. How could he not have? she wondered. The woman was a stunner. Trey was a sexy, kind, funny, gorgeous billionaire. The two of them would make beautiful babies together.

  Unsure how her mind had so quickly gone there and trying to refocus her attention on the woman’s words, Ellie asked, “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  “I said that Mr. Donovan would like to purchase this bakery,” she repeated patiently. “How much money should I have wired to your account?”

  Ellie was infuriated that he was presumptuous enough to think he could buy whatever he wanted. “It’s not for sale,” Ellie told the other woman firmly, which made Marcy suck in a shocked breath.

  “See how much he’ll give you,” Marcy whispered the suggestion out the side of her mouth as if the other woman wasn’t standing right there, hearing every word.

  “Tell your BOSS, I said no thanks.” Ellie handed the card back to the surprised woman and sauntered back to the kitchen. Once there, she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

  “Of all the nerve,” she said aloud as she paced back and forth. “He thinks he can buy my bakery…and probably me too, while he’s at it.” She was fuming at his gall. “Sending that woman here to throw money at me.” Pacing and muttering to herself were only serving to get her more worked up.

  When Marcy rejoined her in the back, she gave Ellie a look that said, “What in the world is wrong with you?” without having to actually say the words aloud.

  “What?” Ellie held up her hands, already feeling defensive.

  “Umm, you could have named your own price tag and been set for life,” she informed Ellie as if she were the densest person alive.

  “This place is my childhood dream. I’m not going to sell it to him. He’d probably tear it down and build a Starbucks or something.”

  “You could take the money and open another bakery…an even bigger, better bakery, if you wanted to.” Marcy was speaking deliberately slowly as if Ellie were having trouble comprehending English.

  Beginning to feel petulant, Ellie said stubbornly, “My bakery is not for sale at any price, and I’m going to tell Mr. Moneybags that myself.”

  If she hadn’t been in such a huff to storm out, Ellie might have noticed the knowing grin that passed across Marcy’s face.

  11

  Donovan Enterprises was an even more imposing building than Ellie could have imagined. She shook her head at the enormous steel and mirrored glass skyscraper. The ostentatious structure served as fuel to the flames of her indignation over his showy display of wealth. Seeing the mammoth, phallic reminder of his economic status spurred her on in her quest to set him straight about his attempts to buy her affection.

  The car she had refused to accept still sat in her driveway as if he believed seeing it again would tempt her into taking it. When her trusty Bug had stuttered before starting, she wondered if she should drive the Benz to his office to return it in person. In the end, she had decided not to take it for fear that the purr of the luxurious car’s engine would tempt her into accepting his generous offer.

  She would never be able to live with herself if she let him buy her a car. She wasn’t even sure why it would cross his mind to offer it to her. Was he concerned that his body had left a dent in her Beetle? She smiled at the thought as she circled the revolving door into his building. The grin faded when she realized the joke about him denting her car was the kind of funny thing that Trey would say.

  Would have said, she reminded herself. On the drive into the city, she had convinced herself that the Trey she had glimpsed in her tiny, bustling town could not be the same man who ran this billion-dollar conglomerate. He had even admitted to her that he was generally much more serious than the fun-loving jokester she had gotten to know.

  He must have been taking a quick reprieve from his usual high-pressure, all-business persona during his brief stay in her town. Now that he was back in his natural habitat, she wondered if she would see even a glimpse of the man she had been feeling defin
ite sparks of attraction––plus something more––for. She felt certain that interacting with ‘Trey the Billionaire’ would obliterate her blossoming feelings for ‘Trey the small-town hospital patient.’

  As the elevator rose at a nosebleed-inducing rate of speed to deliver her to the top floor, she convinced herself that he might not even take the time to see her––despite his promise otherwise. He was a powerful and important man. He couldn’t be expected to drop everything just because she stopped by his office.

  By the time the doors slid open to reveal the opulent reception area on the top level, she was certain that she would immediately be turned away with a polite, but firm, “He’s busy, but you can make an appointment to see him.” That response would give her the perfect excuse to leave and never give the man another thought. Yeah, right. She almost chuckled at her own optimism.

  The gorgeous surroundings that greeted her when she stepped out of the elevator distracted her from her thoughts. The three-story wall of water that rained down behind the front desk was nothing short of breathtaking. The office’s color palette––a mixture of bright tropical blues and classic muted grays––was stunning.

  Ellie was only mildly surprised when the woman on the phone at the enormous gleaming mahogany desk turned to smile up at her. Of course Trey’s assistant, Millie, had beat her in getting there, but somehow the other woman looked polished and pristine, despite the traffic-filled, stressful drive into the city.

  While Millie professionally wrapped up her phone call, Ellie wondered if Trey had provided his assistant with a limousine. Suddenly, Ellie wished that she had taken the time to change her clothes, or at least stop by a restroom to fix her make-up. She wondered if she had flour from the frantic morning’s baking on her face, but it was too late to check now. Feeling frumpy when she gazed down at her own jeans and striped tee-shirt before her eyes travelled to Millie’s sleek, tailored business suit, she wondered––not for the first time––what she was doing there.