Accidentally Married to the Billionaire - Part 2 (The Billionaire's Touch)

by Sierra Rose

  Marj wanted to shout Amen at that one, but she reminded herself that this woman was her enemy as long as she herself was on Brandon’s side. So she continued to dismiss Lena, all the while wishing she could ask the woman how to cope with loving someone who loved a company more.

  “That’s sad for you. I hope you find someone new who doesn’t mind more maintenance,” she said flippantly.

  “I know you don’t trust me. And you probably shouldn’t trust anyone in life except your lawyers. But I’m trying to help you, from a place of good faith. You may not believe it, but I could help you.”

  “If I need help, I’ll keep you in mind, thanks,” Marj said and hung up.

  She needed help and counsel. She needed her best friend, but she couldn’t tell Britt the marriage was a sham. She’d promised Brandon to keep it quiet. So she found herself isolated, marooned with only her conflicted feelings for company.

  Brandon called her late.

  “Want to go to LA at five in the morning? It’s business, of course, but there’s a dinner you could attend, and you could do some shopping, spend a bit of time with me on the plane,” he offered, not sounding overly excited at the prospect.

  “No thank you,” Marj said sweetly. “I know you’ll get everything fixed. I promise I’ll be here when you get back. It’s best we keep this professional, so feelings don’t get involved.”

  The less time she spent with him, the better. She was already too needy, too attached. She had to find a way to fill her days without being dependent on Brandon Cates, especially since it was a temporary arrangement. So she decided to quit whining and start doing.

  Chapter 15

  That afternoon, she researched volunteer opportunities in the city for someone with her skill set. She didn’t want to work in a soup kitchen. The greasy smell of cafeteria food was not her idea of charity. She didn’t think she was fit to be a legal advocate, so she applied to work at an after-school program tutoring fourth and fifth graders. The same day she submitted the paperwork she got the email welcoming her to the program. Apparently they were desperate for volunteers.

  The very next day, she put on her designer jeans and went way downtown for orientation and fingerprinting since her background had checked out. She was given a brochure by a very rushed black woman who was the administrator and showed to a crowded cafeteria where students of all shapes and sizes were crowded at low tables with their obviously worn textbooks open before them, scribbling in notebooks. The place smelled sweaty and had the stale greasy cafeteria smell she’d planned to avoid. She’d be washing her hair tonight for sure.

  The administrator introduced her to a group of students, all of whom were bigger than her and in fifth grade, who could use some help in a literature class. Soon she was learning their names and telling them about her upbringing and they were getting to know each other. The story about her dad driving to the liquor store on the lawnmower went a long way to helping her fit in. She skimmed the short story they were studying and soon she was trying to help them phrase their answers to essay questions.

  She whipped out her phone and googled something about the literary criticism of the story and pulled a few quotes for them to use in their answers—attributed, of course. She showed them how to do a citation in the text, relying on a website for backup when she couldn’t remember the exact order for a publication date and page number. It took them the better part of two hours to do four essay questions and she was exhausted when they finished. She decided next time, as she watched them sip at tiny juice boxes, that she was having pizzas delivered or something.

  So when Brandon took five minutes to call and ask about her day, she had something to talk about. Like the fact that Neveah, one of the girls she worked with, had never used a smartphone or that they were using textbooks from fifteen years ago. He listened and even asked a couple of questions, and she felt absolutely euphoric to have something, anything to occupy her mind instead of just Brandon and his possible feelings for her or lack thereof.

  Marj made notes on her phone before going to bed, things she wanted to bring in or get for these kids. She was bringing her tablet obviously and thinking about getting a couple of reconditioned ereaders for the group. Their spelling and grammar were pretty bad, and she figured they hadn’t read enough, been around enough books maybe. She messaged the administrator about bringing in a big snack once a week for the whole group and the woman was thrilled but cautioned that there was a nut allergy and a strawberry allergy to be considered.

  She had a project and it thrilled her. For the week he was gone, she missed him, but only at the edges because she kept so busy. She found out that the public library lent e-readers and e-books. She got a library card and checked out ten of the e-readers for use in the after-school program, signing a document that she’d replace them if lost or damaged. It was pretty nice to be able to do that, to have the ability to say that, yes, she’d easily spend a thousand dollars to replace a bunch of Kindles if they got lost. There was power and good to be done with money like this, better than bandage dresses and mascaras.

  Marj researched the achievement gap and students living in poverty and what research said about boosting scores and motivation. It kept her busy. It didn’t stop her from being lonely for Brandon, but it gave her hope. Even if this program, this zeal to sponsor and help this group of kids, outgrew her, she would have volunteering experience and would learn from it. She could work with nonprofits after her divorce, could fill her days with good works. Britt would love it, she thought with a tinge of amusement. The cynical Marj, forever budgeting, was ready to blow some serious money on pizzas for the kids in aftercare and maybe a popcorn machine. It would be cheap to churn out high-fiber, filling popcorn for a regular snack, she thought. Surely some local business would love to donate juice or cups or fresh fruit on occasion. She made list after list on her phone and even described some of her plans to Brandon in their infrequent and brief phone conversations.

  “Sounds like you’re taking over the world back there while I’m away,” he had teased.

  “Just trying to help out the needy. Donate my time and your money—”

  “Our money,” he corrected.

  “For a little longer yet, I guess it’s ours. Make a difference. I’ve never done much of that, community service stuff. It’s surprisingly exciting,” she admitted.

  “I was an Outward Bound instructor one summer. It was fantastic except the kids kept whining all the time that their feet hurt. I mean, you sign up to climb mountains all summer and then bitch about your feet? I didn’t have much patience for it.”

  “So we can mark off ‘working with kids’ on your resume,” she deadpanned.

  “Probably. Look, I’m glad you found something you like to do. I got the idea you were pretty bored, so this is good news. I’m proud of you.”

  “Proud? Really?”

  “Yes. Most people, if they came into money, the last thing they’d do is think about how to help people with it. You’re not just throwing money at it either. You’re giving your time, and you’re using the library and other community resources…it’s tremendous.”

  “Thank you, Brandon. That actually means a lot to me,” Marj was glad he couldn’t see her because she was blushing. She’d probably never had a better compliment in all her life.

  “Well, I mean it,” he said, his voice almost bashful.

  There was something romantic to her about talking with him on the phone, about his voice in her ear, his words meant only for her. It felt personal and sent a welcome little shiver down her neck as if he whispered against her skin. She lingered over the call when they were out of things to say, just to be near him that way.

  All the ideas and projects and research she’d crowded into her days and evenings fell away, and there was only her raw longing for her husband. She wanted to say she missed him. She needed him home, or she should have gone with him to LA because there was no way to self-protect with him because she’d already fallen hard. Sh
e had admitted as much to him but the more she thought about it, his response could have been a placeholder until he decided how to handle her declaration. It seemed the likeliest possibility, in fact. Especially in light of his total lack of any remark remotely affectionate to her. The compliment about her volunteer work was very nice but it was hardly romantic.

  So when he said good night, she held the phone for a while after he hung up, shamelessly. When it rang again as she held it, she dropped it onto the bed, startled. It wasn’t him again, that had been too much to hope. It was Lena. The Wicked Queen come to put pins in Marj’s balloon again.

  “Yes?” she said officiously.

  “I just wondered if you’d like to have a bit of a girls’ night tomorrow evening. Both of us on our own, obviously, and there’s no reason we shouldn’t go out for a lovely dinner and some wine. I can give you a few helpful pointers at dealing with a Cates husband…” she offered.

  Marj knew she had to decline. The fact was, part of her wanted to go. Just to have something to do other than waiting for him to call her. Even if it was nothing more than having a fish dinner with her viper of a mother-in-law.

  “I appreciate the offer, more than you probably know, but I’ll have to take a pass.”

  “You have another engagement?”

  “I have some volunteer work that’s taking up a great deal of my time just now. I’ve become part of an after-school program, and I’m excited about it. Thanks, though.”

  When Lena hung up, Marj had the strange notion that she might have hurt the Wicked Queen’s feelings. It just proved how vulnerable and infatuated and pathetic Marj was, she thought, to worry about the feelings of someone like the WQ, who was obviously working an agenda. She was flipping through Netflix to see what was new when Brandon arrived, a day early and wholly unexpected.

  Marj sat up in bed, glancing down at her unimaginative pajamas with a twinge of regret. His arms were full of bags and she stared at him, mystified by his sudden appearance.

  “You’re back early,” she observed.

  “I finished up sooner than expected and decided I’d rather come home.”

  He said it simply but it thrilled her, which made her feel even more pathetic. Maybe he just missed his steam shower and favorite sushi place, she reminded herself.

  “I got you some…things. Souvenirs. I know you were busy while I was gone, and I was, too, but I saw things that reminded me of you and so I just…got them.”

  He dumped the armload of carrier bags on the bed and started to open them to show what he had brought.

  “I bought some Tylenol at the hotel shop, and they had these chocolate covered espresso beans and I thought, since you liked the mocha wedding cake so much, you might like these,” he said it almost shyly, “Then I got…and I don’t know exactly why, come to think of it, but I got ten boxes of saltwater taffy. Your teenagers might like it.”

  “They’re ten years old. They’re just the size of teenagers,” she said faintly.

  “And here’s an LA hoodie. Maybe you can wear it to work out, but it was bright pink, and you had that one bright pink dress. Anyway, there was this exhibit or something out there about Titanic and I got you some stuff there.”

  He upended a plastic bag with a hardback exhibit guide, a DVD gift set, a t-shirt and what appeared to be a pair of salt and pepper shakers that depicted the doomed ship and the iceberg. She stared at the pile and shook her head. Tears stung her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” he said.

  “Is that symbolism for our doomed relationship?” Marj asked.

  “I never thought of that. I was thinking you loved the necklace and loved the movie. But we’ll dodge the iceberg, okay?”

  “Will we?”

  Marj felt like they’d already hit the giant iceberg in the ocean. And they were sinking fast.

  “Yes, we’ve already dodged the ‘Holly’ iceberg,” Brandon said. “Lena tried to sink the ship and she didn’t. Because we’re unsinkable.”

  “I’m glad one of us thinks so,” she said softly.

  Shocked and hurt, he stood up off the bed, looking at her with narrowed eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just want to be with you,” she said. “I don’t want to be apart, and I don’t want some plastic boat salt shaker instead of a husband. I know I told you let’s keep this professional. And I tried to keep my distance. But that’s only after you got all cold on me after I told you I loved you. I thought I took it too far. So I thought we should keep it from being all personal. But I realize, that’s not what I want. And I can’t hide it or pretend like I don’t want it when I do. I know you can see right through me. So I’m not going to lie. I’m going to be straight forward. Okay, I’m rambling. So what do you think?”

  “I believe the boat is the pepper, as its hull is black. The iceberg, being white—”

  She hit him smack in the face with a pillow, and he shot her that beautiful smile.

  “You’re so fucking stuffy,” she said. “Who gives a shit which one is the pepper? I missed you, and I—dammit—I love you, Brandon, and all the volunteer work and taffy in the world can’t make that go away! I just want to be with you!”

  “If you want me, why didn’t you come to LA?”

  “Because it hurts too much to be with you, knowing that you don’t feel the same way about me. Because it was my last ditch effort to protect myself and my heart. But it’s too late for that. I miss you so much, and I was so lonely that I considered having dinner with Lena!” she confessed.

  “Don’t have dinner with her. It’s a trap. A trap with probably very bad food. But you don’t have to protect your heart around me. We promised we’d support each other, encourage each other. I’m on your side, Marj. I never wanted to hurt you or make you doubt me. I know I did that, and the stupidest part is that I was getting rid of Holly because she made me uncomfortable, like she was a threat to our marriage. I wanted to remove her from our lives.”

  “We can agree on that. I want her removed.”

  “She is. She’s somewhere else in the company, another floor. I made sure of it. I wasn’t ever going to consider getting involved with her. In fact, I’m fairly sure Lena planted her as an applicant. As a way to come between you and me. Because it was pretty obvious from the photos and from the dinner we had at her place that we were in this together. So she felt threatened and wanted to undermine us.”

  “Brandon, you’re missing the point. The point isn’t ‘did Lena sabotage us’? The point is more of a ‘Marj is in love with me, how do I feel about her?’ ‘Kay? Just looking to clear that up.”

  “I was hoping to avoid that topic. I like you a lot, and you’re attractive and fun and entirely too much trouble, and my life would be so much simpler if I didn’t fall in love with you. I know I’m starting to, though. The fact that I just wanted Holly to get out of my face is proof enough of that. But I can’t honestly stand here and say I’m in love with you yet. So, if you want to leave, I don’t blame you. Because whether it’s the truth or not, it’s a fairly shitty thing for someone to say to you. And I feel shitty about it. Really, I do.”

  “I want you. If I can’t have you for obvious reasons of your feelings being as real and whatever as mine, then I’ll hold out for my settlement check in a few months.”

  “I can write the check tonight. Just be sure you cash it first thing in the morning before Lena has her lawyers freeze all my accounts. I’m not holding you to this agreement with the complications and…and the pain I’ve caused you. It’s cruel to ask you to stay with me now that you have feelings for me, and you know that I’m not in love with you, and I may not be ready for a serious relationship.”

  “Gee, you could’ve told me you weren’t up for a relationship before we got married,” Marj teased.

  “See, it’s the flippant thing you do…it does two things. One, it makes me think you’re totally fine and resilient and not at all vulnerable. Two, it makes me want to kiss you because no one in my entire life has see
n the funny side of everything, no matter how solemn it might seem, since…” he paused.

  “Since what?”

  “Since my mom, Marj. She always laughed at everything. She and I got in trouble with my dad when I was little because we were laughing at his speech when he got an award. She was the most irreverent, funny, brave person in my life and when she was gone, everything just went flat, dark. Nothing was hilarious anymore. And the most terrifying thing since I met you is that I see that in you, that I can be in a meeting or on Skype, and someone says something, and I think Marj would think that’s ridiculous—I want to start laughing, and tell you about it, and then laugh with you…” he trailed off.

  Marj had tears in her eyes. He might not be in love with her yet, but she’d brought laughter and joy back to his life after so long. She had done something good, then.

  “I don’t want a check from you, Brandon Cates; I want your whole heart. And I’ll have it, too. Just give me time.”

  He pushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “I can tell you this, Marj. I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but every time I look at you, you take my breath away. And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  “Do you care about me?”

  “Deeply.”

  She chuckled. “So I take your breath away, you can’t stop thinking about me, and you care deeply. Well, it’s a start.”

  “So did you really hate the Titanic salt and pepper shakers?” he ventured.

  She laughed and he kissed her, long and slow.

  To be continued…

  If you enjoyed this story, please let others know by adding a review. (Even a line or two would help immensely) This helps others find new authors that they may have never heard of before, but may enjoy. Thank you, I appreciate it so much. Thank you for your support.

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  ***You can read more about Britt and Marj in The Boss’s Son. The story is based on Britt Collier, and Marj is her best friend in the series.***