The Jilted Billionaire Groom

by Jennifer Youngblood

  She dialed Lexi’s number and put it on speaker. It went straight to voicemail.

  “Why’s Mom not answering, Aunt Ashley?”

  The worry on Ian’s face caused her gut to churn. “I’m not sure.” Did Ian know something? She rolled the words around in her head, trying to figure out a way to ask Ian questions without alarming him. “Is everything okay between your mom and Nolan?” It was a stupid question, really. Things had never been okay between Lexi and Nolan. Ashley suspected there was abuse taking place, but Lexi didn’t want to admit it.

  Ian shrugged, a shadow coming over him. “I guess.”

  Ian knew something he wasn’t telling. She could see it in his eyes.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Maybe it’s Mom.” Ian jumped up to answer it.

  Ashley stood. “Hold your horses. I’ll get it.” Was it Lexi? Had she not answered her phone so she could surprise them? She looked through the peephole, disappointed it was the mailman instead of her sister. She opened the door.

  “Hi, Ashley,” the elderly man said.

  “Hey, Steve,” she responded mechanically, forcing a polite smile.

  He handed her a large padded envelope. “This wouldn’t fit in the mailbox,” he explained, “so I figured I’d better bring it to you.”

  “Thanks,” she murmured as she said goodbye and closed the door. There was no return address, but she could tell from the postage that it had been mailed from Las Vegas.

  Ian stepped up and peered over her shoulder, tugging on her arm. “What is it?”

  “I’m not sure. Grab me a butter knife from the kitchen, would ya? So I can open it.”

  “Yep.” In a flash, Ian was back with the knife.

  Ashley sat down at the kitchen table, cut open the top, and pulled out the contents of the envelope. She gasped when she saw the stacks of money, passports, social security cards, and a driver’s license. She picked up the license. Her throat went dry as she swallowed. It was her picture with the name Sunny Day, and it had an address in Montana. Confusion swirled through her as she opened the passports. Sunny Day and Ian Day.

  Ian reached for a stack. “Money!” he chimed with glee.

  She blocked his hand. “Wait a minute. Don’t touch it.” This couldn’t be good. She opened the note. She glanced to the bottom. It was from Lexi.

  Hey, Sis.

  As I’m writing this letter, I hope it’ll never be sent. I hope that instead, I’ll be the one greeting you and that all will be well. If you do get this package, it means that things didn’t work out as I’d hoped. There were things going on with Nolan that I couldn’t tell you about over the phone. Ian saw something he shouldn’t have, and I fear he may be in danger. As soon as I seal this package and drop it off to a trusted friend, I’m going to talk to Nolan in the hope that I can make him understand that Ian is just a child who won’t pose a threat. I can convince Ian to remain quiet about what he saw. He’s probably already forgotten it by now.

  I’m sure if I were standing before you, I’d get a lecture on my not-so-great choice in men. Please don’t judge me, Ash. Nolan certainly has his faults, but I love him heart and soul. I need him in my life. There’s goodness in him, I know it! I’m sure it’s hard for you comprehend needing anyone. You’ve always been the strong one—so focused and determined to accomplish your goals. You make me proud, Sis. It’s comforting to know that if anything should happen to me, Ian will be under your care.

  Like I said, if you do receive this package, it means my love for Nolan couldn’t save me in the end. You must get out of there immediately. Go where no one knows you—some place you’ve never been before, where Nolan won’t think to look. Take the cash and ID’s. Leave everything else behind. Whatever you do, don’t tell anyone where you’re going and don’t use credit cards, or he’ll find you. I’m sorry, Sis, to lay this burden on you. What I would give to see Ian once more. Please tell him that Mommy loves him with all her heart. He’s the one bright spot—my best achievement!

  May God be with you both. I’m truly sorry to put you in this situation. Please take care of Ian. You’re his only hope.

  I love you!

  Lexi

  P.S. You’ve always been my ray of sunshine, but you’re far too serious for your own good. Hopefully, your new name will be a good reminder that life is to be savored and enjoyed, not just something to check off a list.

  Ashley clutched her chest and gulped in a strangled breath, tears burning her eyes. No! It can’t be! A silent prayer rose in her heart. Please let Lexi be alive! She couldn’t imagine a world without her free-spirited sister who saw the world through rose-colored glasses.

  Her lower lip trembled as she tried to hold back the sob in her chest.

  “What’s wrong?” Ian asked.

  Her hands shook as she dropped the note and reached for her laptop. She typed in a search for Lexi Reed and Las Vegas. It didn’t yield anything about Lexi, so she added The Paradise Nolan’s largest casino in with the other phrases.

  Former Showgirl and Musical Sensation Found Dead in Hotel Room of Heroin Overdose was the first thing that came up on a local news outlet. When she saw Lexi’s name a few sentences later, she couldn’t hold back the tears. She heard Ian speak and realized that he’d read the note. His face crumpled, tears rolling down his cheeks. “No!” He fell to his knees, sobbing. Somehow, she managed to make her legs comply with the directive to stand up as she went to him and flung her arms around him. “No!” he repeated over and over, trying to push her away, but she held him tight. “Nolan killed her,” he wailed.

  A sense of horror overtook Ashley as she gave way to the sob building in her chest, grief convulsing out of her in ragged gasps.

  After her tears were spent and Ian’s weeping waned to muffled, intermittent sniffs, the full scope of their situation hit Ashley with enough force to nearly take her breath away. Nolan Webb knew where she lived, probably knew that she had Ian. His goons could show up here any minute.

  They had to get out of here—fast!

  Chapter 2

  Two months later …

  The smell of cedar invaded Finley’s senses as he rested his head against the back of the sauna, willing his body to relax. The heated conversation he’d had with his mom a few hours earlier was still playing through his mind like the wrong note in a repetitive song. Sometimes it stunk to be an only child because he got one hundred percent of his mom’s attention. Lucky me. He pulled a face … not! The woman was smothering him. Finley didn’t know which his mom was the most ticked about—him fleeing the country club or the fact that he took the family jet to Europe for a month and a half. He’d spent a week in Paris, two in Italy, and three in a small village in Southern Germany. The time away from Dallas helped give him added perspective on the situation. Plus, it had been wonderful to go somewhere where no one knew him. He was just another face in the crowd.

  The more he thought about that ridiculous scenario at the country club, the more he came to believe it was karma—his payback for attempting to force Emerson to marry him. Right after Emerson left with Riker, Finley’s world came crashing down. Now he realized that he and his family had been in the wrong. Love was something that couldn’t be bought, and it sure as heck couldn’t be forced. He’d written Emerson a long email, telling her how sorry he was for the part he played in the debacle. She responded back saying all was forgiven and that she still considered him a good friend. Then she went on for three more paragraphs telling him how happy she and Riker were. At the end, she expressed hope that he would one day find the right girl for him.

  The right girl. He let out a long breath. Was she truly out there? He wanted to find the right one, but how? He had to get it right this time. His heart couldn’t handle another mistake. He rubbed his neck to relieve some of the tension.

  After leaving Europe, Finley decided he wasn’t ready to go back to Dallas in late August when it was as hot as Hades, so he came here to the hotel his family owned in Park City, Utah where he wa
s staying in the penthouse suite. The weather was pleasant, and in another couple of week, the leaves would start to turn. It was the perfect place to decompress and clear his head. While his mom was ticked, his dad found the situation amusing. “You’re a grown man and can go wherever you want. Just make sure you don’t fall behind on your work,” Kenton warned.

  The software arm of the business was taking off like wildfire. Scores of farms across the US were clamoring to implement the program, which was fantastic; but it also required a lot of manpower to keep everything running smoothly. They’d gotten several offers from large conglomerates to purchase the software, but the plan was to hold onto it for now. It was all Finley could do to stay on top of everything. He’d fallen a little behind in Europe, but had been working long hours the past couple of weeks since coming to Park City. He was almost caught up. This evening, he planned to have dinner at the hotel restaurant and then veg in his room—maybe even go for a late-night swim. Tomorrow morning, he’d get an early workout, then put in seven or eight hours before taking the rest of the day off. No matter how hard he worked, there was always more to do. Finley had no intention of becoming a workaholic like his dad. Life was too short to spend every waking second worrying about the company.

  Even as the thought entered his mind, he laughed at himself. Here he was, supposedly relaxing, and his mind was ticking through all the work items that still needed to be done. So much for not being a workaholic. Finley let out a long sigh as he stood and wrapped his towel tighter around his waist. As he stepped out of the sauna, a flash of movement caught his attention. “You can’t be in here. This is a private area.” He made a mental note to remind the hotel manager that this space was off-limits for the other guests. He glanced at the bench where his clothes were and caught a blur of red hair as his mind registered what was happening. A kid was rummaging through the pockets of his shorts!

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

  The boy froze, his eyes turning to saucers as he grabbed the shorts and took off running.

  “Hey!” he yelled, sprinting across the room after the kid. “Stop!” Finley caught the boy’s arm before he could exit the door. “You can’t just barge into a private area and go through my shorts!”

  Fear streaked through the kid’s eyes as he looked up at Finley. His lower lip trembled. “I’m sorry, Mister. I didn’t mean any harm. I was just looking for some change to get a drink. Please don’t tell my aunt. She’ll kill me.”

  “Where’s your aunt?”

  “Working,” he stammered.

  Finley’s eyebrows darted together. “Where does she work?”

  “Here, in the hotel.” The door opened as a middle-aged, bald man stuck his head in the door. Good timing. It was Drake Bradford, the hotel manager, just the man Finley wanted to speak to.

  “Forgive me for interrupting you sir,” Drake said timidly, “but I happened to be walking by and heard yelling.” His eyes went to the boy. “Is everything okay?”

  Finley realized he was still clutching the boy’s arm. He released him, feeling a smidgen of guilt when he saw the red indents from his fingertips against the boy’s fair skin. “This thief was going through my shorts.” He shot the boy a withering look. “Do you know where his aunt is? I’d like to have a word with her.”

  The manager looked puzzled. “Do you mean his mom?”

  “Yeah,” the boy said quickly, his face turning as red as his hair. “My mom. That’s what I meant.”

  There was something odd going on here. Why had the boy first called the woman his aunt and now his mom? Was the little weasel having fun at his expense?

  “I’ll get Miss Day right away.” Drake scowled at the boy. “We’ll get to the bottom of this,” he said briskly, hurrying away.

  Finley motioned to a nearby bench. “You might as well sit down as we wait, and don’t even think of making a run for it,” he warned when the boy eyed the open door.

  The boy sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging. “Fine.” He thrust the shorts at Finley, then shuffled over and sat down on the bench. Finley stood, holding the shorts, not sure what to do. If he went to a dressing room to put on the shorts, the boy would most likely flee. Then again, would it really hurt if the boy left? Finley only had ten dollars in his shorts. In retrospect, he probably should’ve just let the kid take the money. The kid looked pitiful sitting there dejected, like he’d lost his best friend. Finley hadn’t exactly been an angel at that age. He couldn’t pass judgment on the kid. It’d been a shock seeing the kid in the private area, and he’d reacted. Then again, if the boy was trying to steal from him, chances were, he’d steal from hotel guests as well. It was probably better to just nip it in the bud here and now.

  The boy sat staring down at the floor.

  “What’s your name?”

  Silence.

  “I asked your name,” Finley repeated more firmly.

  “Ian.”

  “How old are you?”

  Ian glanced at him, then back down at the floor. “Ten.” He squeaked out the word as if it were a question.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” It was late August. Surely school had already started here.

  “I’m home schooled.” He scuffed his feet back and forth against the floor, sitting on his hands.

  What kind of woman was so irresponsible that she let her kid run wild around a hotel while she worked? An unsupervised kid was bound to get into trouble. The fault lay mainly with the woman, Finley decided.

  A few minutes later, Drake returned with a slender, dark-haired woman dressed in a maid uniform. The second she stepped through the door, she rushed to Ian’s side. “What did you do?” she seethed.

  “I was just thirsty and looking for money for the drink machine,” he stammered.

  “This is unacceptable. We’ll talk about it later,” she muttered. “I’m so sorry about this,” she began as she turned. Then she stopped, cocking her head in surprise. “Fin?”

  Finley’s heart skipped a beat. Even dressed in a uniform, the woman was strikingly beautiful. Her dark lustrous hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, emphasizing her large almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones. It then registered that she’d called him by name. “Do we know each other?” He searched his brain. Had they met before? She had a slight Southern accent, but the boy didn’t. Had he met her in Texas, or was it here? There was something vaguely familiar about her. Why wasn’t it coming to him? A woman like her would be hard to forget.

  “Miss Day, I hardly think Fin is an appropriate way to address the owner of this hotel,” Drake snipped, his eyes looking up at the ceiling, causing his forehead to bubble into loose wrinkles. “It’s Mr. Landers to you.”

  The slightest hint of color tinged her cheeks as she blinked rapidly, clasping her hands together. “Of course. I meant no disrespect.”

  “It’s okay,” Finley said smoothly, holding up a hand to Drake as he gave her an apologetic smile. Drake had called her Miss versus Mrs. Did that mean she was single?

  Drake eyed the woman. “Your son broke into an area clearly marked Private and tried to steal money from Mr. Landers’ shorts. I’ve been lenient on you, Miss Day, have allowed the boy to come with you to work since you’re a single mom with no one to watch him.” His eyes darted to Finley like he feared he might’ve said too much. Finley kept his expression placid. Drake turned his attention back to the woman. “You assured me that Ian would stay in the employee break-room.” He shook his head remorsefully. “You’re a hard worker, but I’m afraid that you give me no other choice but to let you go.”

  She nodded in understanding, her face paling.

  Ian’s head shot up, a wild look in his eyes. “It’s not her fault. Don’t punish her, punish me. Get a stick. Beat me. Do whatever you have to do.”

  Finley grinned. The boy was laying it on thick.

  “That’s enough, Ian,” the woman warned.

  “It’s not fair,” Ian argued. He shot Drake a dark look. �
�You work your butt off at this stinking hotel. Your boss should be thanking you, not firing you.”

  Drake gurgled, his face going redder than a ripe tomato about to burst. “I beg your pardon.”

  “That’s enough, Ian,” the woman said in exasperation.

  A single mom. Not married. That was good. Finley looked at her name-tag and couldn’t stop a smile from spreading over his lips. “Sunny Day,” he mused. “It’s certainly original.”

  Sunny lifted her chin, sparks shooting from her eyes as they met his. “Instead of worrying about my name, maybe you should be more concerned about standing here in nothing but a towel.”

  He looked down, a rush of embarrassment flooding him. He’d been so taken with Sunny that he forgot about the towel, or rather his lack of a shirt or pants.

  Ian sniggered, then placed a hand over his mouth when Sunny gave him a sharp look. He chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

  “Miss Day, I suggest you pick up your items from your locker and leave the premises,” Drake ordered.

  “Let’s go, Ian,” Sunny barked, her eyes shooting daggers. Ian leapt to his feet as Sunny grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.

  “Wait,” Finley said. He didn’t fully understand all that was going down right now—certainly didn’t understand how he could feel so invested in a woman he’d only just met, but he knew that he couldn’t just let Sunny leave.

  Sunny halted, arching an eyebrow, her expression suggesting she was ready to fight.

  He looked at Drake. “I appreciate that you’re trying to maintain order, but it’s not necessary to fire Sunny … Miss Day,” he corrected. “I think you should give her another chance.”

  Drake’s jaw dropped. “But I assumed that under the circumstance—”

  “It’s all right.” Finley smiled to soften the tension in the room. “No real harm was done. Ian didn’t actually steal the money.” He waved a hand. “Besides, I only have a few dollars in my shorts. Had I known the boy needed it, I would’ve given it to him.”