Southern Charmed Billionaire

by Frasier, Kristin

  His finger pressed firmly on my lips.

  "A lady never curses."

  "Who said I'm a lady?" My retort rolled out sassily.

  I wanted to curse again just so he would touch my lips. God I ached for him so badly, the way we made love at that club.

  “So what type of business was it?”

  Feeling shy about actually admitting, food truck, I waited. But the liquid courage and my partially empty stomach provided just the fuel.

  “It was a taco food truck. Now before you even object or protest, have you ever tasted barbacoa?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then you’ve never really lived. I have to make it for you. Well, I mean, make it for…” What did I mean?

  “I would love for you to make me barbacoa.”

  “Well, anyway, as I was saying, I was in love with a man who would later greatly betray me. I would be used again by another man.”

  Shit. I didn’t want to get into what my father did to land him in jail. So, I made a mental note to not even vaguely mention it.

  “We were business partners. We had the best taco truck on the corner. And that’s a lot to say for Brooklyn. My boyfriend whom I loved turned out to be a con artist. I checked my bank account one day and I was rid of every single penny while he left scot-free while I was left with the remaining debt, which I currently have.”

  “Wow.”

  On top of other debts. Debts from my father stealing my identity.

  “Yeah, so cupcakes. It’s a fresh start for me. Something completely opposite for me. I don’t have a bad taste in my mouth with this venture. It’s sweet. I keep saying that I’m leaving the bitter north for the sweet south and I hope it stays that way. Ending that cold chapter, to a sweeter life in the south I thought I’d caught my luck with Claire, but then her band broke apart. After that, I was kicked out of the only place I knew.” I spoke softly, casually. “And then you came along. You provided an avenue for me to dream again, and now - well now I don’t know how to handle this.”

  “I hate lying,” I confessed, looking him in briefly in the eye. “I don’t know why it will make your grandfather feel better knowing I’m pregnant with a baby before he leaves. I mean-”

  He interrupted. “Trust me it will make him thrilled.”

  “Well, so, what about Clarissa? I mean, you two seem pretty chummy.” I cringed when I asked, but I had to know. Memories of the way he froze up during her appearance last night bugged me.

  “That’s old news.” He was quiet for a moment, and there was silence as we felt the cold wind and light snow tickle our faces. I waited, pensively, for the next thing he would say. “We have a history together. One that she cannot let go of. I don’t know if you can tell, but she and my sister are two peas in a pod; twins from another mother.”

  “I did notice that.”

  “Well, if we’re being honest here. She was my last… girlfriend.”

  “Wow, so, this was recent?”

  The backdrop of peace and tranquility was the most soothing thing you could experience during this confession. It easily filled our silence as the horses easily trotted through the snow providing a happy peace.

  He sucked in a deep breath and drank more of his champagne, gazing at the landscape in deep thought. I didn’t want to prod. I knew how sensitive these things could be. He could take all the time in the world. But I still wanted an answer. Finally, he spoke.

  “It wasn’t very recent, no.”

  “Oh?”

  “Clarissa and I—we fell in love at a young age, when love consisted of heightened feelings, obsession, and uncharted territory. She was there for me when my parents died.”

  “Your parents…I mean I know they’re not here, but....”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “No. I mean, I just never wanted to ask.”

  “Their plane went down. My youngest brother died alongside my parents. Aside from my grandfather, I’m the only male heir of the Branch family. Why do you think I’m so keen on wanting my space from all the drama, catfights, and heightened emotion from females?” His upper lip curled in slight amusement.

  I laughed. I got it. I was afraid of all that myself.

  “Anyway, Clarissa,” he continued. “She was there for me. And as you can see, we grew up in the same social circles. Our moms were best friends. Of course they put the ideas in our heads since we were practically toddlers that we were each other’s arranged marriage partners. We have buckets of pictures growing up together.”

  I felt a pang of jealously, or perhaps, internal longing for that own type of childhood memory and recognition.

  “She made me feel better in a lot of ways. And then, well, it’s really hard to talk about… But I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but, my grandfather is a very devout Christian, and this is the south. It’s synonymous with Bible belt, though. Everyone knows everything, and when you’re running for Governor like Clarissa’s dad was, well, everything was magnified in the press. Your behavior, and your family’s behavior, literally determines votes. If you can’t keep your own family in check, how can you run a conservative state? You know? Well, we…made a baby. Got pregnant. And then…well, we weren’t anymore.”

  The silence was thick. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was a confession I didn’t expect at all. And though this conversation had matured very fast, I was thankful for his trust in me to confide that secret. Now it somewhat made sense as to why Clarissa’s dirty looks were so frequent.

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s a bond that will bind us together for the rest of our lives.” He exhaled slowly again and I could sense he was in pain. “We created something together, and I’ve never done that before with anyone, created another life.”

  “I’m really… wow, that’s a lot to deal with and so young.”

  “Well, she thought she was making the best decision for our families. I really didn’t have a say in the matter. She did it without me. The sucky thing was, even though I was so young, I felt excited, ready,” he revealed, with some animation coming to his voice. “Like life suddenly seemed deeper and filled with purpose beyond me. Looking back now, it just added more sorrow to my heart. So with dealing with the loss of my family, I dealt with the loss of my own child and I didn’t even have a say in the matter. It pushed us a part. I retreated. She got all theatrical. She and my sister have that going for them, the drama queen thing. Both are spoiled rotten, let me tell you. There’s no way we would have lasted.”

  “Are you sure about that? I mean, she seems like every man’s dream.”

  “I get it you know, as a woman seeing what you see from your perspective. But all that stuff is exterior coverings; with all the pretension in this social circle and the inner scene, you grow up looking at the inside. You get tired of what you see pretty quickly; from the inside all things all look the same.”

  “You surprise me, you know.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “It just seems very mature I guess. Deep.”

  “Well, regardless of how I may appear, I have my own oceans inside.”

  “So that’s why you needed me?”

  “I don’t date. I don’t.”

  “But don’t you ever want to be in love?”

  “I…I don’t want to hurt. And whenever you love, you hurt.”

  “That makes sense. I get it. But what if a businessman who lost everything kept the same philosophy? Heck, what if I had the same philosophy? I would have never come down to South Carolina, and then look, I would have never been able to help you. There’s a chain reaction when we open up.”

  “Are you always this inspirational?”

  “Thanks, but what I’m saying is: if you hold off on loving someone else, then you miss out on the gift of their love, and the gift you will create in the world as ripple effect. Think about how much beauty the snow is creating for our enjoyment. If the water stayed in the cloud, and never chose to freeze and fall and transform, we’
d miss out on so much beauty.”

  “Are you saying I’m beautiful?” he teased, lightening the mood.

  “Yes, and maybe I’m put in your life to remind you to love again.”

  “It does get lonely being in the public eye. That’s why utmost secrecy is the best. I’m a man. I’m an adventurous man. I have ways to fulfill my needs.”

  Fire shot over my body like a layer of fire ants. His need. Oh I knew what he was talking about; yes I did indeed. That party…

  Not wanting to dampen my panties any further, and in an attempt to control my heart rate, I quickly added, “I guess everybody has a tragedy. I guess we must all have some kind of vice, something to overcome. Otherwise life would be very boring, I suppose.”

  “Grey.”

  “That’s what I keep telling myself, at least.” I took a greater sip of my drink and he refreshed my flute.

  The southern air was cool and crisp against my skin, delivering the freshest and most pure inspiration as the snow stopped falling. We enjoyed the pristine silence of nature for a bit. Even though we didn’t speak, I never stopped thinking about him and his vulnerability. Experiencing his openness made him seem more approachable and less king-like, god-like, demi-god-like. There were so many layers to him. I really felt as if I understood him and what he was saying in more ways than he knew.

  “The scars that tie together,” came out of my mouth in deep observation.

  “What did you say? That's beautiful.”

  “Scars that tie together?”

  “Yeah! Mind if I uh, write that down on my notes? It’s very beautiful. You’re very wise, you know?”

  “Well, I read a lot of books growing up and listened to a lot of podcasts on personal success. If you knew where I came from, I’m sure you’d want to do the same.”

  My stomach twisted and turned. Would I ever tell him everything? Everything? That my father was in prison?

  Silly girl, why!? He’s your pretend baby daddy.

  Right….

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Kate

  Light jazz played in the speakers overhead, beautifully pairing with the cozy crackle of the fireplace to create a warm and inviting ambience. Each guest clutched his or her beverage of choice in their palm as they enjoyed the grand room, which buzzed with excitement, social games, and lively conversation.

  Since I was theoretically pregnant, I held a cup of piping hot tea, smiling through the silent envy I held for every woman who passed holding a glass of wine.

  The ornate gold platter that once beautifully displayed several dozen of my cupcakes was almost empty. I loved seeing everybody's faces as they tasted them. Several were kind enough to compliment me.

  I had met Atticus's aunt, uncle, twin cousins, their boyfriends, and his oldest cousin, who was a doctor. She was married to another doctor; they did philanthropy work in Africa.

  Our interactions were light, young, and jovial, much like the atmosphere. Everyone held kind expressions except Brittany, who appeared as bored as a valley girl at a local state representative meeting. She became more lively and opinionated by her third or fourth glass of white wine.

  Thankfully, she did not exercise her immaturity on me.

  After participating in a game of charades, which had me laughing harder than I could remember in the longest time, one of the twins called out, “Play us a song, Atticus!”

  “Yes!” The other one agreed. Atticus complied, much to their delight. Hearing Atticus croon old songs by the fire gave me feelings of nostalgia. I felt like a character in a Hallmark movie, surrounded by genuine love and family; a real family that you smile with, laugh with, share with. My heart warmed with gratitude; I was grateful for a moment of normalcy.

  The next morning, we caravanned to church in the fanciest string of cars I’d ever seen. I hadn't attended church in a very long time; those rare times I had, it was Catholic and I was bored. But we attended the local First Baptist Church, not Mass, and the Branch’s were treated like dignitaries. They were so highly esteemed by the members; you could have thought the president himself was in attendance.

  We had reserved seating and the entire family filled two rows.

  Easter service was beautiful and I actually took great comfort in the Pastor’s message: that no matter what happens in our lives on Friday, when all seems dark and lost, a Sunday of rebirth and renewal was just ahead of us. Easter reminded us of brighter days and of hope in all things.

  I nodded, and my spirit fully received those words. Something fluttered inside as I listened; I realized it was hope, a feeling I hadn’t experienced in a long time.

  Everything, this entourage, the Branch family, Atticus, my new finances, my new business plan—it all gave me hope. Things were certainly looking up. I said a little prayer up to the big guy upstairs while I sat in my pew. And I said hi to my mom.

  Mom, if this is you as my little personal angel up there, thank you. I love you.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Kate

  A majestic snow white cloth covered the equally regal dining room table, which was large enough to seat dozens. As we took our seats for dinner, I couldn’t help but notice the splendor of fine dining Branch style.

  Dinner was an exquisite Southern feast of turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, sweet potatoes, cornbread, fresh baked rolls, and dressing. This was the good ole’ south, baby! Billionaire style.

  “Are you ready for the big announcement?” Atticus whispered in my ear. I bit my lip. I really wasn’t. All I wanted was for him to whisper something naughty, to remain as we were. But, I had a job to do.

  My hand shook and he reached for it to steady it under the table, a small display of intimacy to calm my nerves.

  Clink. Clink. Clink.

  Atticus tapped his wine glass with a gold spoon and interrupted the festivities to grab the family’s attention. Everyone appeared to be in great spirits, clasping the stems of their generous glasses of wine and nursing full bellies. I’m sure several saved room for dessert, which was right around the corner.

  “Family, we have an announcement to make.”

  The lively chatter quieted down, allowing us to hear more of the light piano and trumpets crooning in the background, an element signature of Branch style.

  “God, please don’t tell me you’re getting married,” Brittany the Bitch called out.

  My throat tightened. I felt like I would have an anxiety attack.

  Atticus tightened his firm grip on my hand and moved to my thigh, providing a more possessive, boyfriend-like comfort and I drank it in like water on a parched day.

  He took a deep breath and I scanned the sea of curious faces around the table. Those warm, caring faces belonged to a family that had taken the time to get to know me, ask me questions, and demonstrate that, for the most part, they were surprisingly down to earth. Well, everyone except Brittany. But even the most vibrant tree had sour apples. It was part of life.

  “Kate and I are… expecting our first child.” He drew his breath, letting the words drip out slowly. “We are four months along.”

  Oh.My.God.

  The news was out.

  I could have fainted, but the way everyone at table exploded into celebratory whoops and cheers, scooting their chairs back to get up and make their way to hug our necks with elation put me a little at ease.

  “Well that explains the cellulite I saw.” The Bitch muttered. “I thought she was just fat.” She snickered to a cousin, who just stared at her with obvious disappointment.

  “Really, Brittany?” She rolled her eyes, then turned to give me a sweet look, as if to say, Don’t let her get to you.

  “Yes! You won’t believe what I found….” I heard her speak but my attention span allowed the words to trail off as my eyes and attention returned to all of the neck hugs and warm reception we received from our announcement.

  “Do you know what it is, Atticus?” Granddaddy Atticus’s face shone bright like a star.

  �
��Yes Granddaddy, I do,” my child’s father beamed. “I am pleased tell you that it's a boy.”

  “A boy!”

  “Oh, that's wonderful!”

  “Welcome to the family, Kate!”

  “Um, thank you!”

  “Well that is certainly interesting indeed. Such fascinating news. I have some fascinating news to share as well.” Brittany interrupted the conversation with a menacing tone.

  “Oh yeah? What's that?”

  “Oh, just some strange article that is outright claiming – Kate? I don't know if you want me to read this out loud,” she sneered. “It may not be appropriate for table discussion.”

  “What?”

  “Brittany what are you doing? Cut the antics.” Granddaddy scolded.

  Outraged by the rebuff, she refused to back down. “What am I doing? I think the real question is - and should be - what is she doing and what game is she playing? We've all been played.”

  My heart leapt to my throat. Had we been discovered already?

  “What are you talking about?” Atticus spoke in a low rumble. His eyes were narrow, a clear indication that he was angry with his sister’s scene-stealing antics for sure. No doubt about it.

  “Oh it’s just about your real identity and what you really are. Who you are,” she persisted. Her tone was haughty, confident, and full of malice. I looked her straight in the eyes, trying to determine what she meant.

  “Brittany, that's enough.”

  “I can't hold it. I can't. She's an escort and she’s in it for Atticus's money. Here is her little plan. It's printed all over the gossip columns. See!”

  My face grew hot. What!?

  She slammed the evidence on the table for all to see. There it was, my dream book, posted all over the pages of a supermarket tabloid. My dream book full of work; I poured my whispers, my heart and desires in it. That book was close to my soul; it the keeper of my secrets and my life planner.