My Billionaire Crush: A Peachtree Billionaires Novel

by Remy, Cate

  “I have two rooms reserved under Max Kelly,” he informed the clerk at the front desk.

  The clerk typed his name into the computer. “Yes, two rooms. One grand suite with Jacuzzi, living area, and balcony. The other a standard suite with living area.”

  “My fiancé and I have to have our Jacuzzi.” Max handed her his credit card.

  Angie came up to him while the clerk checked him in. The normal sparkle in her dark eyes was replaced with a flash of anger. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Excuse us.” He left the counter and went with her to the side of the front desk. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not sharing a hotel room with you.”

  “Ouch. Do you have to put your foot down so hard to crush my feelings?”

  Her eyes grew to twice their normal size and a faint blush put a plum color on her brown cheeks. “What did you say to me?”

  She looked like she wanted to put her foot down extra hard on him. Time to stop with the jokes. “I shouldn’t kid you like that. I know we aren’t sharing a room.”

  Her expression changed. “You reserved two rooms. Isn’t one for Susan?”

  “The grand suite is for you and Raymond. I’m taking the standard suite. I already made a separate reservation under Susan’s name so she can check herself in later. Right now it looks like she’s staying in the suite next door to help with Raymond.”

  She indicated she realized his plan to make everything appear like they were a couple. “I see. You’re working hard to make this look real.”

  “Of course I am.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t worry. All you have to do is show up for cocktails and the art show tonight. I thought of everything else.”

  “Max Kelly, is that you?”

  He heard the voice and felt every nerve in his body cringe. He turned to look over his shoulder. “Bella? What are you doing here?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Max looked at the tall woman standing behind him. “I thought you were in Sweden.”

  Bella put her hands on the hips of her ultra-skinny black jeans. “I’m here for the art show.” She clacked her long red nails. “The gallery is housing my work, too.”

  “Bella, meet my fiancée Angie Franklin.” He put his hand in the middle of Angie’s back. He felt her tense before she stepped forward and extended her hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Bella.”

  His ex gave Angie a quick up and down glance before she shook her hand. “Hmm, you look different from the pictures I’ve seen of you online.”

  “Sorry to disappoint. It’s hard to get out of a plane in a fancy dress.”

  “You’ll get used to it. You’re with Max now.” Bella lifted her eyes from Angie to view him. “Soon he’ll have you going from party to party, painting the town red.”

  Angie shook her head slightly as if something tickled her nose. “I’m going to take my son to the room and get settled in. We’ve had a long day. Excuse us.”

  Bella slipped on a friendly mask. “I’m sure I’ll see you later tonight.”

  Angie gave Max a look before she put her arm around her son and went to get the hotel room key card from the clerk. Bella edged closer to Max once her back was turned.

  “She has a grip like a man,” she remarked, voice lowered.

  Max grated out a sigh. “No, she doesn’t.”

  “Since when did you start dating women with unmanicured nails?”

  “She’s a mechanic, Bella. Not all women have the lifestyle or desire to sport long cat claws.”

  She pushed her maroon-colored lips out into a smirk. “You used to like my cat claws.”

  He turned away from her bold glance. “I have to go. Angie and I need to get ready for tonight.” He stepped around Bella without telling her goodbye. He caught up to Angie on the way from the front desk.

  One look and he knew she heard everything.

  * * *

  Angie heard every silly, petty thing Bella said to Max about her. It was almost like being in high school again with mean girls. She wanted to open her mouth and give the woman a piece of her mind, then reconsidered. How stupid would she look bickering with a stranger in a hotel lobby? She pressed the up arrow to signal the elevator. “Angie, wait.” Max jogged behind her. “Sorry you overheard.”

  The elevator doors opened. She allowed Susan and Raymond to get on first. She didn’t want her son to hear her talking to Max about grown up matters. “I'll be right behind you, Ray.” She waited until the doors closed and the lights on the panel numbers signaled the elevator was moving up. “Is Bella your ex, your real fiancée?”

  “Yes, though she’s not my fiancée anymore. You are.”

  “I’m not your fiancée, either. I just pretend to be.”

  “Don’t pay attention to what she said. She can be immature sometimes.”

  “Then what made you want to marry her at one point?” Ugh. Angie clamped her lips, but she blurted out her thoughts already. She sounded just as catty as Bella. “Don’t answer. I have no idea why I asked.”

  The elevator chimed. It returned to the main floor, empty. Both she and Max got inside. He hit the button to go to their floor. “I’ll tell you,” he said as the doors closed. “I was dealing with family issues at the time. I was lonely and Bella happened to be there.”

  “You don’t have to tell me all your business, Max.”

  “You should know about her. She caught me off guard. I didn’t think she’d be here.”

  Angie nodded, exhaling at the same time. He didn’t have to explain himself. It was considerate that he did.

  “I won’t let her be disrespectful to you again.”

  The elevator chimed. It reached their floor. She stepped out. “See you later tonight.”

  She left him in the hall. She was still embarrassed over her reaction. So what if he had unfinished drama in his life? She wasn't part of it. Why did she let the silly encounter with Max’s ex get to her?

  She went to her hotel suite where Raymond and Susan waited. The nanny left, promising to return in a couple hours so Angie could go to the art gallery with Max.

  “Look, Mom, video games.” Raymond showed her the console controllers. “Can I play Mario, please?”

  “After dinner.” She flipped through the hotel’s room service menu. She didn’t feel like returning downstairs and being in public so soon.

  She unpacked Raymond’s pajamas while her son ate an overpriced cheeseburger and truffle fries. She also took out the dress she was supposed to wear tonight, a flashy red number from Trina’s boutique. A sales clerk delivered it to the house the other day.

  This isn’t me. Not the dress. Not flying off to New York and staying at this fancy hotel. She went into the other room and laid the dress on her bed. When she came into the living area, Raymond slurped down a grape soda.

  “When are you and Max getting married?” he asked between gulps.

  “Why do you ask, honey?”

  “I like Max. He’s fun.”

  Maybe he associated Max with sports. Angie regretted not being able to get her son involved in elementary sports programs because of lack of money. “I can get you soccer lessons this summer. Do you want karate, too?”

  He shook his head and wiped ketchup off his mouth. “No, I like throwing the football with Max.”

  Raymond needed a stable father figure in his life, not just someone to play games with him. What was she going to tell him when Max would no longer be available?

  She glanced at her son while he played a game on the hotel room’s fifty-inch flat screen television. Her little boy was growing up so fast. In a couple months, he’d be in third grade. Where had the time gone?

  An hour later, Susan arrived. Angie ate dinner while the nanny got Raymond to get ready for bed. Angie put on her red dress and shoes. She gave her son a hug and kiss. “Goodnight, honey. I’ll be back soon.”

  A knock came from the door. Max was here.

  She went to open it, her movements slo
wed by her long evening gown. She turned the door knob to find Max on the other side. His tux fit him perfectly.

  “Ready?”

  Not at all. Instead of voicing her internal reply, she got her clutch bag from the counter and stepped out of the suite.

  She walked down the hall with him to the elevator. Other people waited to get on this time. Some were dressed casually while others had on night out attire. The elevator doors opened, and they all got in.

  Angie and Max were the last to get inside. It was a tight squeeze. Angie shut her eyes after the doors closed.

  Max's sleeve brushed against her arm. “Are you doing alright?”

  She opened one eye to peek at him. “I will be.”

  Her stomach did a not-so-funny dip as the elevator descended. She breathed in the stuffy air, along with the mingled scents of hairspray and heavy perfumes. She started to get lightheaded and closed both eyes again.

  Angie felt Max’s fingers curl around hers. Her skin tingled when he got closer and spoke in her ear. “Angie, you’re making me worried.”

  The elevator gave a blessed chime and opened its doors to the main floor. A rush of cool air washed over her. Eager to get out of the odorous sardine can, she stuck one foot out. Max kept a hold of her hand as the crowd shuffled past. “I don’t like crowded elevators,” she explained to him.

  “We could’ve waited for the next one.”

  “No sense in us being late. I’m fine now.”

  “You sure?” His eyebrows drew close together as he gave her a worried look.

  She breathed deep. “Positive.”

  With reluctance, he let go of her hand. He remained standing close. “Red’s your color.”

  “Thanks, but you said that about the blue dress I wore, too.”

  He gave an innocent shrug. “You look great in both, what can I say?”

  He took her hand again and walked into the cocktail lounge. Angie searched for the familiar faces of the Prestons and the Landers. Max found the men first, standing at the bar with highball glasses in their hands. Charley waved to them.

  “Angie, you look beautiful. Max, you look so-so, I guess.”

  “Gee, thanks, Charley. Where’s your better half?”

  “Our wives are still getting ready,” said Steve. “They’ll be at the art gallery. In the meantime, let me introduce you to Dave and John.”

  The next hour went by with Max talking shop with potential investors for the hospital. Angie’s attention drifted in and out. She ordered a glass of wine and nursed it while the conversation continued. She smiled and laughed when appropriate. When the investors asked her questions about her life and work, she told them. Everything started to feel routine. She had the script memorized.

  “I’d like to see your budget plan and list of contractors for the hospital,” one of the investors told Max when the hour was over. “Have your assistant send it to me on Monday morning.”

  Max possessed great control of his facial expressions, yet she could see a triumphant smile trying to work its way through. “Thank you, Mr. Young.”

  “Please. Call me Dave. It’s about time we head to the gallery, isn’t it?”

  Angie stood when the men rose from their seats. When Steve, Charley, and the investors walked ahead of them, she whispered to Max. “Success, right?”

  “I’m pretty sure, but still waiting on Steve and Charley to actually tell me they’re going to sell the land.”

  Why the dodge and dance? Angie gave a slight shake of her head. Apparently, business people were about as tactical as athletes. No wonder Max could easily go from running back to boardroom.

  A pair of limos arrived at the hotel to take the investors and their wives or girlfriends to the art gallery. Angie sat and made small talk with Phyllis and Donna when they got inside the vehicle.

  “Have you picked out your wedding dress?” Donna inquired.

  “Not yet.”

  “Are you going to go with traditional white or something more modern?”

  “They both sound good. I haven’t had much time to decide.”

  Phyllis joined in. “My dear, you’re getting married in six months. It’s crunch time.”

  She smiled helplessly. “I’ll get right on it when we get back to Georgia.”

  “There’s the spirit. Let us know if we can help. Donna used to be a wedding planner, and I know several tastemakers who’d love to assist you.”

  Angie thanked them. The ladies were nice and enthusiastic, genuinely happy for her. The more she participated in this farce, the more a bitter taste became settled in her mouth.

  The limos arrived at their destination. Cameras flashed as people in tuxes and evenings gowns got out of their vehicles and walked on the red carpet into the building. Angie was baffled by the scene. “I get that the occasion is formal,” she spoke softly to Max, “but what’s with the paparazzi?”

  “Celebrities are here, too.”

  “You say it so casually.”

  “It’s not uncommon for famous people to be at gallery and show openings here in New York.”

  “Thanks for the public service announcement. I’ll be sure not to let my jaw drop and embarrass you by looking like a hayseed.”

  She got a laugh out of him. He looked more relaxed now than he did before. He planted a kiss on her mouth in front of everyone. “You couldn’t look like one if you tried.”

  “You can stop flirting with me in public. Everyone already thinks we’re engaged.” She kept her features soft and pleasant for one of the camera guys who snapped away once they reached the carpet.

  Max remained in physical contact with her. He and put his hand on her waist, bent his head, and whispered in her ear. “Who says it’s all for the public?”

  She turned to view his expression, but he already turned to get in line to see the featured art exhibit along with the Prestons and the Landers. She moved alongside him. Was he getting into character, as they used to say in her old drama class, or was there another reason for him sending her mixed signals?

  The art on display was a mix of modern and avant garde works. Angie listened to the artists discuss their inspiration for their work, and talk a little about their process. Max stopped to chat with Steve’s son, whose art was featured.

  She enjoyed the mingling until they arrived at Bella’s exhibit. Max’s ex posed alongside her artwork for professional photographers. She had one hand on her hip and the other on the frame of the abstract picture she painted.

  The photographer moved on after taking several shots. Bella tossed her hair and looked over at Max and Angie. Her sultry expression changed to annoyance. “I still can’t believe you’re engaged.”

  “Congrats on your art making the exhibition,” Max complimented. Angie liked how he didn’t give her negative comment a response. “Where’s your friend, the one from Norway?”

  “You mean Sven from Sweden? We’re not together anymore.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Again, congrats on the artwork. Hope you get a sale.” Max put his arm around Angie and started moving again.

  She tried not to notice Bella’s death glare searing into her neck. “Whatever’s going on between the two of you, I don’t want to be involved.”

  “Nothing’s going on. Bella and I broke up months ago when I caught her cheating.”

  “Ouch.”

  Max broke away from the line to go into a quiet gallery adjacent to the main exhibit. Another couple was across the room, studying an oil painting. “She used me to get connections to sell her artwork.”

  Angie stared at a Renaissance portrait. “These days, everyone uses each other for money.”

  “I disagree. Not every wealthy person has bad intentions.”

  She thought of Jordan McKinney, and how his dreams of making it big in the tech field overrode his responsibility to take care of his son. “Not all, but a good number of them.”

  “That’s not true, either. Charley and Steve aren’t bad people. My father wanted to do good by buildi
ng a hospital, and I’m trying to make it happen.”

  “By lying.”

  Max’s mouth formed a straight line. “It’s hard to take the moral high ground when you’re part of the scheme, don’t you think?”

  Angie opened her mouth just as Steve and Charley and their wives meandered inside. “There you are,” announced Charley. “We were wondering where you two lovebirds ran off to sneak a kiss.”

  Kissing was the last thing Angie considered doing to Max. One look at him and she could tell the same thought was running through his head. Then he wiped his expression clean, put on a pleasant face and gave a response to send the other four people smiling and laughing. Angie mirrored them until her face started to hurt.

  It wouldn’t be long before she could put this act to bed. She hoped.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The night ended on a sour note for Max after talking with Angie in the smaller gallery. She thought he was just another rich pig. Couldn’t she see he was doing well by trying to get a hospital built and furthering his dad’s legacy?

  Charley and Steve never said anything more about selling the land, either. The rest of the night was a boring bust. Max rode back to the hotel with Angie, parted ways when he walked her to her room, and then returned to his own for a restless sleep.

  The next morning he got up early, hit the weights at the hotel gym, and checked emails on his laptop while eating breakfast in the downstairs restaurant. Between his first and second cup of coffee, he got an email from Steve: Charley and I are headed out for our flight. We decided to go ahead with the land sale. Expect an official email from the firm later this week.

  He pumped his fist in silent victory.

  “Someone’s happy this morning.” Angie came to his table. She was dressed in fitted jeans and a tee that showed her curves. A cute baseball cap sat on her head. Max thought she looked even better than she did last night in her red dress.

  “Steve just sent me an email. They’re going to sell me the land for the hospital.”