Alice And The Billionaire's Wonderland (Once Upon A Billionaire Book 3)

by Catelyn Meadows

  She tried reasoning with herself. He was busy. He owned a theme park that was being entirely rebranded for goodness’ sake. The arguments didn’t completely quell her disappointment or the nagging fear that everything she’d felt between them had all been one-sided. Unrequited, like always.

  Against her better judgment, she’d been entertaining more and more daydreams since the photo shoot. Daydreams of carousel rides and crooked smiles, of time in Maddox’s company and the roller-coaster plunge her heart longed to take, straight smack into love.

  Was this what it felt like to love someone? Adelie didn’t know, but she craved to. She wanted to experience for herself how two random people managed to not only find one another, but overcome fears, take chances, and win one another’s affections and loyalty.

  Looking at love according to facts like that seemed so illogical, but the world was flooded with people who proved otherwise, and Adelie wanted to be next.

  “I think the grass is saying, ‘ow,’” Fletcher said.

  “Huh?” Adelie blinked from the stupor of her thoughts to find a bare patch of dirt where fledgling, yellow-green spring grass used to be.

  “You all right there?” Fletcher added, gripping the black garbage bag he’d been holding for Suzie to dump in her pile of litter mingled with dead leaves. Suzie glanced at her as well, concern in her forehead. She knew all too well what was on Adelie’s mind.

  Suzie deposited her pile into the sack, straightened, and used her wrist to brush her blonde hair away from her forehead. “Why don’t you just call him?”

  Adelie shook her head and started raking a different spot.

  “It’s totally normal to ask for an update on the images he took of you.”

  “Not to mention within your rights,” Fletcher said. “It was part of your contract.” Fletcher was good at wordy documents. Adelie was grateful she’d had him look the papers over before she met with Maddox during their tour.

  Adelie traipsed to the nearby maple tree and used it for support. “I would feel so stupid,” she said. “So obvious.”

  Fletcher frowned. “Obvious about what?”

  Suzie rolled her eyes and shuffled forward a few steps. “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” she said, “not if Maddox is as observant as this guy.” She nudged a thumb in her boyfriend’s direction.

  Fletcher glanced between the sisters with a puzzled expression, and the girls laughed. He really was cute. Suzie had been crazy about him from the start, and so giddy the day she’d come home from class and announced she had a date with him.

  Adelie had thought about calling Maddox more times than she cared to admit. She’d stared at his name in her contacts, but she could never bring herself to tap it. Wonderland had been closed for two weeks now, which meant something had to be happening. He’d said he would call her when the images were ready. Why hadn’t he?

  She’d given up checking social media. In fact, even though she’d stalked every possible sight for an update, she’d avoided it for the past several days altogether in an attempt to eliminate some of her frustration.

  Together, Fletcher, Suzie, and Adelie bagged the leaves and stray branches left over from Westville’s most recent spring wind. The air was chilled but not cold. Sunlight burst through the clouds, bringing with it the promise of flowers and outdoor adventures. They hauled the bags out to the curb for the city to gather during its neighborhood cleanup that weekend, and Tyler Wilborn rode past on his bike, slowing down at the sight of them.

  He had to be eleven or twelve years old, his dark hair tufting out over his forehead, his cheeks flushed with exertion.

  “Hey, there, Addy.” Tyler pulled his bike to a stop near the garbage can and scrubbed a hand beneath his nose.

  “Hey, Tyler,” Adelie said. She’d known every kid on these streets since she’d been a kid herself. It wasn’t unusual for them to pull aside and talk to her. Kids never gave her the anxiety adults did.

  “I saw your pictures. I hardly recognized you, but you look seriously great.”

  Adelie shot a glance at Suzie, but her sister had already whipped out her phone and scrolled greedily with a finger on the screen.

  Suzie’s eyes boggled. She held up the phone as if in reverence. “Oh. My. Goodness. Look at you!”

  Fletcher peered over. “Whoa,” he said. “That’s Adelie?” His gaze shot to her before returning to Suzie’s phone. “You look amazing.”

  “Right?” Tyler said. “I’ve been showing all my friends. It’s so cool that you’re like, famous, and you live on my street.”

  Adelie’s entire body tingled. A bowling ball sank into her stomach. She couldn’t bring herself to look. She was too fazed by the fact that Maddox had already put them up. He’d posted the pictures, and he hadn’t told her.

  “Well, see ya,” Tyler said, riding off.

  Filled with determination, Adelie yanked her phone from its pocket, opened Facebook, and gaped. Notifications blazed red. She had at least a dozen friend requests from people she didn’t even know. Others—lots of others—had tagged her in posts. News stations, newspapers, Wonderland’s main page—even Maddox had tagged her from his personal page.

  Though the air around her was cool and crisp, walls began to close in around her. She shook her head, voicing her denial.

  “It can’t be.” She felt exposed, vulnerable, as though a target had been pegged to her back and everyone in the world was taking aim.

  “Why?” she went on, asking no one in particular. “Why would he post them already?”

  Why hadn’t he told her first?

  “Something wrong?” Fletcher asked, sidling in. His heat radiated to her, and she was grateful for his proximity. She needed someone close to her just then.

  “He didn’t tell me,” she said.

  “Was he supposed to? That wasn’t in your contract.”

  Fletcher’s words ignited something inside of her. “Doesn’t courtesy have its own unspoken contract?”

  Apparently not, she thought, answering her own question. Fuming, she trudged along the sidewalk leading to the separate garage and the makeshift garden shed Grandpa Carroll had built. While Adelie felt like flinging the rake against the wall, she placed it gently down and headed in through the back door.

  The house’s warmth seeped into her skin, but it didn’t soothe her. Adelie kicked off her shoes in their mudroom with its new beadboard along the walls and hung her jacket on its peg. Her thoughts exploded like fireworks in her mind. She ran through her last conversation with Maddox after the photo shoot had ended. He’d said he would call her. He’d promised he would. So, what was the deal here?

  A buzzing sound came from her pocket.

  Adelie dug for it. Her fingers seemed to lose their ability to clamp onto objects, and the phone slipped and crashed to the floor.

  “No,” Adelie said with a little gasp. She dove, but it was too late. The screen read Missed Call: Maddox Hatter.

  Adelie hugged the phone to her chest and slumped against the wall. She missed it. He finally called her, and she had to go and drop her phone.

  Suzie peeked her head around the corner from the adjoined kitchen. “Was it Mr. Billionaire?”

  Adelie stomped her foot. “He finally called, and I had to go and drop it.”

  “Call him back.”

  A brand-new crack streaked across her phone. Worried it would no longer work, she tested it with her finger and opened the call screen.

  Tap.

  “Adelie, hey.”

  Maddox’s voice would have been the stuff of dreams, but she was too upset to notice.

  “Hey,” she replied, amazed at her ability to speak with her heart galloping as fast as it was.

  “I’m glad you returned my call. I’ve got some good news—or maybe you’ve seen already.” Delight decorated his tone. He was happy about this? “The images are ready. In fact, they’re in place now. We took the last several weeks getting everything set up—”

  “You—you hung them u
p already?” Without showing her?

  “They look absolutely remarkable. Seriously, you pulled this off with complete flair. The grand reopening is next week—”

  She was still trying to process. Not only had the images been blasted all over social media, but they’d been hung up near the rides. She did sign a contract to give him permission to do what he wanted with the images. Still. He should have let her know.

  “I’d love to have you join me. A news crew will be there; you can tell them all about your experience and—”

  “No.” The last thing she wanted was another interview. More cameras? He was already displaying everything. The least he could have done was tell her. Instead, he’d made it public and she was the last to know. She was always the last to know. Her eyes slammed closed.

  “I—Adelie, are you sure? It’d be great to have you there.”

  Her jaw quivered. “No, thank you. I’ll be busy that night.” Busy hiding. Too late, she realized he hadn’t even told her the date or time of the reopening. Her aversion was obvious, but then again, maybe he wouldn’t get it. Maybe he was oblivious like Suzie joked about earlier.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  “I will,” she said, blinking away tears. She was ready to end the call. Ready to never speak with him again.

  “I’ll deposit the rest of your money,” he added.

  “Great. Thanks. Bye, Maddox.” She hoped he read the finality in her tone. She’d been so stupid, indulging in her fantasies based on two measly afternoons spent in his company and thinking it meant something. She’d been hurt enough. She couldn’t risk it again.

  ***

  Maddox stared at his phone, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Here he’d expected her to be over-the-moon ecstatic, and she all but hung up on him. What was that about?

  Things had been so hectic with the rushed timeframe his team had developed. He’d been distracted, approving each new idea and design for the rides. He had been trying to make the outrageous deadline with nothing but the end result in mind.

  He’d considered showing Adelie sooner, but part of him wanted to present the finished product to her and see the light in her eyes when she witnessed herself as Alice.

  He’d never expected her to decline. Not only that, but to pronounce herself busy? He hadn’t even told her the date of the reopening.

  Maddox had thrown out the reminder of the money, hoping to prolong the conversation or lead it in a new direction, to get her to open up to him again, but it had only seemed to bother her more. This was not going as he’d planned.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A week later, Adelie pushed the shopping cart along the produce section of Coleman’s Grocery and stopped at a particularly juicy display of apples. Soon it would be summer, which was her favorite time of year for produce. Corn on the cob, prickly pineapples, cherry tomatoes, new potatoes, and grapes the color of plums.

  She couldn’t deny that having enough funds in her bank account to pay for food—without having to worry about where the money was going to come from—made shopping that much more satisfying. But having her pictures smeared all over the news and social media outlets made her queasy. She couldn’t go anywhere without seeing her own face plastered on a billboard or a newspaper, and each new sighting stripped away another layer of whatever well-being she had left.

  The resulting nervousness she had was outrageous. She hadn’t been able to relax enough to sleep soundly since the images had surfaced, since Maddox had invited her to Wonderland’s reopening. Anxiety made swiss cheese of her insides.

  She occasionally managed to steady her breathing and find peace of mind enough to do her studies and finish the homework for her classes, but it would be frayed by a well-meaning neighbor’s comment or a new tag on Facebook. She really needed to stay off social media.

  Adelie knew people were only being kind or excited and trying to show their support, but every comment, every statement, made her feel that much more vulnerable. Celebrities dealt with this all the time, she told herself. They still juggled their careers with a semi-normal life.

  But she was no celebrity. She was just her. Just plain and simple Adelie. She hadn’t asked for this fame. Hadn’t sought it out, which was probably the reason these thoughts never consoled her. She still felt as though the pictures had embedded some sort of tracking device inside her, that people were watching her everywhere she went, even as she slept.

  If she could get away with it, Adelie would never leave her house again. Eventually, she would attempt to find a new job, maybe once she got her nursing degree. As it was, it wasn’t until she and Suzie were completely out of food that Adelie convinced herself to venture out.

  It was just the grocery store. Nothing would happen to her while she was at the store.

  With the help of Maddox’s investment, she’d been able to pay off a large majority of their mortgage. They’d fixed the plumbing. They’d redecorated. Adelie reminded herself of these facts on an hourly basis. It was okay. She’d get her groceries and go back home where she could hide and pretend the world was as small as it’d been a hundred years ago, before social media and billionaires who owned theme parks decided to try and expand her horizons.

  Adelie picked through the pile of rosy apples, dropping a few in her bag, when movement caught her eye. A man rested a hand on the edge of a large display filled with lemons. But he wasn’t selecting lemons.

  His attention was fixed on her.

  A shiver trailed down her spine. Adelie pivoted. Ordinarily, she took her time selecting fruit with the right amount of shine, free from bruises or spots. This time, she grabbed the first half dozen she encountered and stuffed them in her bag. Still sensing the man’s gaze, she peered from her periphery.

  Another man had joined the first. He wore an overlarge coat open to reveal a flat-tire midsection jutting out over his jeans. The first man caught her glance. He nudged his friend with an elbow before jutting his chin in her direction.

  “Nice apples,” he said.

  The insinuation in his statement sickened her. Adelie’s throat tightened. She turned away without replying and headed toward the bagged, prewashed lettuce.

  Instinct flared, pricking the skin at the back of her neck. Leave the lettuce, a small voice warned. She ignored it, telling herself this was nothing. It was all in her head.

  She glanced behind to find the same man closing in on her.

  Fear settled in. She wanted to abandon her cart, race off, leave the store and the creeps, but her feet refused to move.

  “Saw your picture. It’s you, isn’t it? Alice.” His front teeth were crooked. He said the word like a verdict.

  She retreated a step and swallowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “This? This isn’t you?” He held up his phone and displayed Maddox’s favorite picture of her. The one he’d texted and told her she looked beautiful in.

  Ritchie had implanted a mesmerizing forest instead of the green screen around her, and she glanced over her shoulder as she reached for the apple dangling from the tree. Even she could tell her expression was seductive and alluring—two words she never would have associated herself with. Her vision went red.

  Panic clicked into her brain. These men weren’t like the other admirers she’d had, who only stopped to offer sweet compliments before moseying on their way. They zeroed in on her like predators to their prey, and the realization made her back arch like a cat’s.

  She glanced around, searching for an associate or someone who might help her, but aside from these men, she was alone in the produce section.

  “I love the new look,” the man with crooked teeth went on. “Makes me wonder what you’re like on a more…personal basis. Are you as sweet as this?”

  “Excuse me.” Deserting her shopping cart, she turned on her heel and picked up the pace, heading for the exit. She struggled to remove her phone from its pocket. It caught on t
he fabric, refusing to come free. Too late, she realized she’d dropped her purse along the way as well.

  Beyond the checkout aisles, the exit blared at her like a strobe light. The faster she went toward it, the faster the men followed. One of their hands brushed her elbow. Against her will, a cry of panic escaped.

  “Hang on, there,” one said. The men hurried around, blocking her path feet from the collection of shopping carts and a row of flowers and helium balloons waiting to be picked over and given as gifts.

  Adelie lost her footing. She staggered and found herself caught from behind by a pair of hands.

  “Let me go!” she cried, but fear choked the plea to something timid and weak. She wriggled and wrenched, but the accompanying voice cut through her fear with distinct familiarity.

  “Adelie. It’s me.”

  Her gaze shot up to find Maddox’s concerned face and pale green eyes concentrating on her. She crumpled into him out of sheer relief. His warm arms encircled her, but they didn’t dispel the dread pounding through her.

  “Problem here, boys?” Maddox said. His voice rumbled in his chest.

  Adelie whirled around to find the two men snarling at her, shoulders rising and falling, faces flushed. A crowd had also collected. Several shoppers slowed their carts to gape, several with phones in hand.

  “I’m calling the police,” Adelie said through her teeth.

  “Already done,” a woman behind the men said. Her hair was short-cropped and gray, but she held a no-nonsense expression in her fierce eyes. “I got their picture too.” She held up her phone.

  “Sounds like you boys better keep a low profile from now on,” Maddox said with warning in his voice. His hand was firm against Adelie’s back, securing her to him.

  The men called out several expletives in Maddox and Adelie’s direction before elbowing their way out of the surrounding crowd, past Maddox, and toward the exit.

  It wasn’t until they were gone that Adelie’s entire body went limp. She slumped against Maddox’s side, relieved at having him there. Tears sprang to her eyes, made all the starker by the sour tang in the back of her mouth.