The Secret (Billionaire Secrets Series, #1)

by Lexy Timms

  As quietly as she could, Heather climbed out of bed. Simon’s eyes were still closed. He was still fast asleep, thank goodness. Breathing a sigh of relief, Heather grabbed her clothes from the floor and crept into the bathroom to put her clothes back on.

  What to do now? Sticking around to have an awkward conversation with her boss was the last thing she wanted to do. What she needed to do was find a place to gather her thoughts. Think of a plan to deal with her own screw-ups.

  Silently, she walked out of the bathroom, grabbed her handbag, and headed out of their hotel room. Her best bet was to take a walk outside. Clear her head and think. And she really needed to start thinking clearly as soon as possible. If she kept being a servant to what her body wanted, she’d probably never stop having sex with Simon.

  When she made it to the lobby she noticed the bar on the far end. A drink for courage wouldn’t hurt. Right now, she needed all of the courage she could muster.

  Squaring her shoulders, she headed into the bar and stepped up to the bar counter.

  The bartender approached her. “Hi. Welcome. What’ll it be?”

  “I guess I could have a martini,” Heather replied.

  “Excellent choice,” the bartender said with a smile. “One martini coming right up.”

  The martini turned into three more. Then it turned into vodka and some other fruity drinks that Heather didn’t know the name of.

  “I think I might be drunk,” Heather said loudly to the bartender.

  “That’s been known to happen around here,” the bartender replied, a playful smile on her lips. “Do you want some water to take some of the edge off?”

  “No, water’s boring.” Heather knew she was slurring her words, but with her brain pretty much soaked in alcohol none of that seemed to matter. Besides, she made awful decisions even when sober, so it wasn’t like alcohol could do any worse. “How about a shot of tequila?”

  “Drowning your sorrows?” the bartender asked, reaching for a shot glass.

  “Yes,” Heather replied, slumping forward. “I’ve done a very bad thing.”

  The bartender arched a slender eyebrow. “What did you do?”

  “I’d kill you, but I’d have to tell you.” Heather laughed. “I meant...never mind. Can’t say.”

  “Guy problems?” the bartender asked.

  Heather’s eyes widened. “How’d you know?”

  The bartender shrugged. “Just a guess.”

  “Yeah, well, I can’t want this guy,” Heather said. “He’s way out of my league anyway.”

  The bartender set the shot glass down in front of her and Heather took an eager swig.

  “Man, I haven’t been drunk in so long I forgot what it was like,” Heather slurred. “I don’t know why I haven’t done this sooner.”

  “Not a lot of fun in your life, huh?” The bartender started wiping down the counter with a rag.

  “Nope. All I do is take care of my family and go to work. And I tried being what my stupid ex-husband wanted, but was it good enough?” Heather narrowed her eyes. “No. I’ve had no fun for years. And now this hot guy comes along and he’s fun, even if he is an uptight stick in the mud. But I can’t have him.”

  “Why not?”

  “He doesn’t want me. Not really. All he wants to do is run his company or whatever. Plus, I can’t tell him the truth about me. I’ve got to keep all my secrets if I want to keep this job. And I need this job. Need to show everyone that I’m not some sad single mom with no life.” Heather hiccupped and then waved her glass. “More tequila.”

  Her cell phone chimed, and she retrieved it from her handbag. Heather frowned at the new text. Without her glasses she couldn’t read a word. She started texting back, then shoved her cell phone back into her bag. Whoever was trying to get a hold of her could wait.

  The bartender served her another tequila.

  A firm hand on her shoulder made her look up. “Heyyyy, Simon.”

  Her boss stared at her with a frown. “You’re drunk.”

  “As a skunk.” She started giggling. “You should have a drink, too.”

  “I don’t drink,” he muttered.

  “Oh, for shit’s sake, lighten up, Simon,” she said shrilly. “Would having a little fun kill you?”

  “How many drinks have you had?” he demanded.

  She waved her hands around. “This many.” Heather paused. “What are you doing here anyway?”

  “I woke up and found you gone,” he said coldly. “Then I sent you a text and when I got gibberish in response I figured you were impaired somehow. Looks like I was right. You’ve had one too many drinks.”

  She laughed. “Joke’s on you, pal; I’ve had way more than one drink.”

  The harsh expression on his face softened and he caressed her cheek with his thumb. “I was worried about you. When I saw that you weren’t there I thought something bad might have happened to you.”

  She shivered at his touch. He always made her tingly all over when he touched her. “Awwww, you do care.”

  “The panic about your wellbeing lasted for no more than a second,” he said sharply. “You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”

  “That’s not what you said upstairs after I took off my clothes—”

  “Not here,” he said, cutting her off. He took her arm. “Let’s talk somewhere private.”

  “We can sit at one of the booths here,” she suggested.

  His jaw clenched in obvious annoyance, but he nodded. “Fine. Come with me.”

  She let him take her hand in his as he led her across the bar, to an empty booth on the far end of the place. The booth was dimly lit and private, so she slid into the seat across from him.

  “You’re obviously too drunk to have a serious discussion,” Simon muttered. “So, we’ll stay here while you sober up.”

  “Are you mad at me?” she asked suddenly.

  “No,” he said harshly. He must have seen the sad expression forming on her face because he sighed and reached across the table to take her hands in his. “I’m not mad at you, Heather. I’m mad at myself.”

  She tilted her head. “Why are you mad at yourself? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “I’ve made a mess of everything,” he said.

  “Mistakes happen,” she said.

  “Not to men like me,” he said. “Everything in my life is ordered. Precise. My life is completely free of chaos or drama. At least it used to be.”

  “Until I showed up and ruined everything,” she said miserably.

  He shook his head. “You could never ruin anything, Heather.” His brow furrowed and he sighed heavily.

  Simon looked so troubled that it sent a tremor of guilt through her. This was all her fault, and there was only one way to make it better. One way to fix her mistake. If Simon knew the truth, he would stop blaming himself. If she told him about what she had done at her old job, and why her marriage had ended, he’d have to see things her way.

  Leaning towards him, she dropped her tone conspiratorially and said, “Simon, I’m ready to tell you all my secrets.”

  Chapter 13

  There was no turning back now. Not while Simon was staring expectantly her.

  A very sensible part of her brain screamed out a warning at her not to overshare. To keep her secrets to herself and salvage what was left of her reputation. That was the part of her brain she usually listened to. But after having downed so much alcohol on a day of some very terrible decisions, Heather opened her mouth to confess.

  Simon put his hands up. “Look, I can already guess what it is. You planned on seducing me, didn’t you? That stuff about us having to share a room was some plan you cooked to get me into bed again, right?”

  Her eyes went wide. “You think I’d do something like that?”

  “The Heather I grew up with would never do something like that,” he said. “But we’re obviously not the same people. You weren’t upfront with me in the beginning. Why would you start now?”

  �
�I might have kept the truth from you, but I’d never manipulate you. I’m not some kind of compulsive liar.” Her head started swimming and she slumped back in her chair with a groan. The hangover was going to be brutal.

  He crossed his arms and gave her a hard, intense stare. “So, why did you have condoms if you never planned on getting into bed with me again?”

  “Those weren’t mine.” Even she knew how lame that sounded. It was the truth but it just sounded like an excuse. “Gary borrowed my duffel bag for a trip he went on. When he gave the bag back I found the condoms he left in there. Knowing him, he probably left them in there on purpose just to rub it in my face—”

  “Hold on—Gary?” Simon frowned. “As in your brother Gary? The Heather I knew didn’t have a brother.”

  Oh shit.

  Her heart sank. Simon never missed details. His memory had always been sharp. He’d hear a name once and store it in his mind forever. She grimaced. “Gary isn’t my brother.”

  “Of course, you lied about that, too.” Disappointment flashed in his blue eyes. “Of course you did. You never had a brother growing up. I guess I just filled in that gap by thinking you had a half-brother I never knew about or something. I was so willing to trust and believe in you that I started to lie to myself for you.”

  “Simon, please—”

  “Have you told me the truth about anything?” he demanded.

  “I have.” She sighed. “It was wrong to make up a brother. I got nervous when he showed up at the office. I’ll tell you the truth now,” she said. He deserved that much. It wasn’t right to let him blame himself for their fling, when she had made such a colossal mess. “Gary is my ex-husband. He’s Finn’s father.”

  Simon raised an eyebrow. “And you’re still sleeping with your husband, aren’t you? That’s why there were condoms in the bag.”

  “What?” She bolted up. “No! No freakin’ way,” she said shrilly. “I’m not sleeping with Gary.”

  “Maybe not, but something’s going on. I get it,” he said. “You still have feelings for your ex and you’re trying to let me down easy. You don’t have to do that, Heather.”

  “Nothing is going on with Gary,” she insisted.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, skepticism in his voice. “Are you seriously going to tell me those flowers you got at the office weren’t from your ex-husband?”

  “You saw those?” The bar started to tilt. Shit, she was so drunk that the room was actually spinning. She pressed her palm to her forehead.

  “I did. I saw the look on your face. You looked happy.”

  She breathed out an exasperated sigh. “No, I wasn’t.”

  “You were smiling,” he said. “I mean, I thought you were single when we slept together, otherwise I never would have done it. I don’t go after married women. But maybe your marriage isn’t as over as you think it is.”

  “Gary did send the flowers. But I was laughing at how ridiculous it was for him to send flowers,” she said. “I wasn’t happy about getting those flowers, I was laughing at how ridiculous Gary was being. He’s an ass. Lousy father. And just an ass.”

  “Please stop trying to deny it,” he said. He huffed, frustration clear on his face. “It’s obvious you think of me as a rebound. Or some kind of revenge sex to get him back. Whatever it is, I don’t regret it. I’m glad I got to reconnect with you. Even if it was only briefly.”

  “So, you’re not going to fire me?” She shifted uncomfortably in the booth. What else was she supposed to say? He wasn’t going to believe anything anyway.

  “That’s out of my hands, remember? It would be wrong for me to make a decision like that,” he said. “Your evaluation has been handed over to a board member. They’ll be checking on your progress and work so, as long as you keep being the model employee you’ve been, I’m sure things will go smoothly.”

  “So, you like my work?” she asked.

  “Of course. You’re a great employee. Your work during these past few hectic weeks has been stellar. I hope this indiscretion between us hasn’t made you doubt yourself.”

  “I feel like I’ve screwed everything up,” she breathed.

  “You haven’t,” he said. “I’m your boss. The buck stops with me. I’ve made a mess of things, but maybe I can start making things right.”

  She bit her lip. It was clear that he still blamed himself. All she had wanted to do was explain why she had thrown caution to the wind. Why she had been so willing to jeopardize everything.

  For years she had been married to a man who didn’t give a damn about her or her feelings. Yet here was Simon. He appreciated her. Noticed her. Seemed to want to do the right thing, even if it was probably difficult for him. Of course she would want to connect with a man like him.

  But now he seemed to believe she was still in love with her ex. Which might be for the best. If Simon believed that she had feelings for another man, he’d realize what a mistake all of this had been and would be eager to put it all behind them. They might still have a chance at a fresh start.

  “How can we make things right?” she finally asked.

  “You’re looking a little flushed and I think you’ve had enough to drink for one night.” He got to his feet and held out his hand. “How about we start by getting you upstairs?”

  Her lips quirked up. “Trying to keep me out of trouble?”

  “Someone has to.”

  Slowly, she got to her feet, swaying unsteadily. She was really going to regret drinking so much in the morning.

  Heather placed her hand in his and followed him as he guided her out of the bar and back to the room that they had been forced to share.

  HE FLICKED ON THE LIGHT switch, bathing their hotel room in a warm orange glow. He tried not to imagine what Heather would look like lying on the bed naked in the soft light.

  She sagged against him and he wrapped his arm around her waist. She started to slide down and he quickly hooked his arms around her knees and hoisted her up into his arms.

  She mumbled something as he carried her across the room and set her gently down on the bed. The sheets were still rumpled, but there was no time to dwell on his memories of having sex with his assistant. He didn’t know how much she had been drinking, but he had to make sure she was all right.

  He set her bag down on the night table and turned his attention back to her.

  With a groan she rolled onto her side and then started muttering something incoherent. She had seemed to sober up while they had talked in the bar, but after she had stood up she seemed to have been hit by another wave of intoxication.

  “Heather, can you hear me?” Simon placed a hand on her clammy forehead.

  “I’m tired, Simon,” she slurred.

  It was probably best to just let her sleep off her drunkenness. He was worried about her throwing up and choking in her sleep, but she didn’t seem to be showing any signs of nausea.

  Her eyes fluttered opened and she smiled at him. “You’re so handsome.”

  “You’re not so bad-looking yourself.” He chuckled as he reached for her shoes and slipped them off.

  She giggled, and then suddenly clamped her hand down over her mouth like she was trying to suppress it.

  Simon had never seen Heather cut loose like this. Usually she was a stickler for rules. Very proper. Even unyielding. They were similar in that way. Heather might have been so much better at making connections with other people, and forming long-lasting bonds, but one thing they had in common was that they played by the book. He might have been a risk-taker in business, but he had always made sure he stayed in control. Kept his mind focused. Which meant no drinking. No partying. No coloring outside the lines.

  Until Heather had come back into his life and completely upended it.

  That thought unnerved him. Made him wonder if he was wrong about her. Maybe she wasn’t the stickler for rules that she used to be. He might have known her while they were growing up but, the truth was, he didn’t know who she was now. In many ways they w
ere strangers to each other.

  The unnerving feeling gave way to excitement. His staid life had been thrown completely upside down by the neighborhood wallflower. Simon could hardly believe it, but Heather thrilled him more than any woman ever had. Which made working with her more than dangerous. It was perilous. Especially for both their careers.

  The bed was still a mess, but he grabbed hold of the sheet and covered her with it.

  “Is it bedtime already?” she asked sleepily.

  “Yep.”

  “I should call my son,” she said.

  “You sure that’s a good idea?” he asked. His parents had been drunks for most of his childhood, and he had gotten his fair share of drunken phone calls from them. Heather wasn’t an alcoholic as far as he could tell, but he couldn’t imagine getting a drunken phone call from his mother would do Finnley any good.

  “No, you’re right. I’m way too drunk,” she said. “But I want to tell him that I love him.”

  Her words shot straight to his heart. In this moment, he could deny her nothing. “How about we text him? He’s old enough to read, right?”

  She nodded. “He’s still reading picture books, but yes, he can read. And he’s with his grandparents, so they’ll help read the message to him.”

  “I can help you write a text,” he suggested. “Where’s your phone?”

  “In my bag,” she said, pointing to the night table.

  Simon reached into her bag and pulled out her cell phone. “I know you can’t read without your glasses, so what do you want me to type for you?”

  “Just tell him hi,” she said. “And that Mommy loves him very much. And that I miss him.”

  For a moment, a strange wistfulness settled over him. He had never thought he’d be the type of man to start a family but seeing Heather’s love for her son almost made him wish for more. Much more than the ordered, isolated life he had built for himself.

  He started texting furiously and sent the message according to Heather’s instructions.

  Moments later, he got a reply and read it out loud to Heather. “Hello Mommy. Hugging you through the phone.”