Mending Christmas With The Billionaire (Artists & Billionaires Book 2)

by Lorin Grace

  Please let me know you made it safely. There have been more accidents than usual today.

  Always, Sean

  Tessa reread the note. It would be rude to not respond and let him know she arrived safely.

  Sean,

  The drive took a little longer than I planned. I am glad I used the app Richard suggested. Thank you for the scarf and hat. I forgot I gave you my email. You can write, but I don’t know if I will respond. Please understand.

  She rewrote the line three different ways and then left it. He had her note that explained in vague terms about being hurt, and he said he understood.

  Have a happy New Year!

  Tessa

  Sleep didn’t come any easier after she hit Send.

  In a couple of days she would be in Chicago. Mandy might have some good advice. After all, she and Daniel had worked the distance thing. Only their relationship was different. Daniel had fake-dated half the actresses in the country openly but never took them home.

  Maybe love wasn’t supposed to make sense.

  twenty-three

  The organ sounded her best the morning after Christmas. Sean played a few of his favorite toccatas and a fugue. Granda’s cane tapped against the floor. Sean took the sound as a message to stop.

  “Come talk with me.”

  Shutting down the organ, he joined Granda on the front pew. “Nick Gooding will be here in a moment. I’ve wanted to talk to you, but with Tessa here, I never found the right moment. He has a bunch of paperwork for me. I want to give you my $2,000 rainy-day fund. The board also decided to sell the church to the Goodings to be part of the museum complex.”

  “What?”

  Granda held up a hand. “You know as well as I do my congregation has dwindled to nothing. Neither you nor your father had any inclination to the family business. Nick wants to turn this into a concert hall and community center, which is all it is anyway. He is going to sell me back the house for $100, the same price the Cavanagh’s sold the house to the church for all those years ago, and I want to give it to you. That way when Nick hires you as the caretaker, you’ll have a place to live, and you don’t need to give up your business in the city.”

  “Granda, I don’t even know what to say. Did Nick say he would hire me?”

  “Not in so many words, but you know he will. You don’t need to take the offer if you don’t want to, but I know how you love this building even if you are not disposed toward religion. I’ve watched you over the last few years with your love/hate relationship with New York. I think if you could finally give up the apartment, you might like it here.”

  “I would. I could teach here, couldn’t I?”

  “I am sure Nick wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ve been talking to Roberta about that senior-living place of hers. With my diabetes getting worse and New York getting colder . . .” Granda shook his finger. “Don’t you say anything about global warming. I say it is colder. Anyway, it makes sense. Your mom and Richard have also asked me to tour Ireland with them in the late spring. Won’t that be grand?”

  “I’m not sure what to say.”

  “Take some time to think about it. I don’t think Nick needs an answer today. He said he needed to have a long talk with you.”

  As if on cue, Nick and his lawyer came through the back door.

  Sean sat across from Nick Gooding and his father, Ansley, with one of Granda’s banker’s boxes at his feet. “So what you are telling me is that Granda’s $2,000 rainy-day fund that I have heard him talk about his entire life is worth 1.8 million.”

  Ansley leaned forward. “No. 1.8 billion, with a “B”. But after the taxes are settled it will be closer to 1.2.”

  Sean shook his head. “I don’t understand. How could Granda’s $2,000 become so much without him knowing?”

  Ansley pulled out a legal pad. “Well, it all started in 1957. When Reverend Cavanagh was twenty, his maternal grandfather died leaving him $2,000. My father talked him into investing it in a little company called American Centry Investment Firm. Unbeknownst to you, your grandfather, his father, Cameron, added another thousand to the investment bringing the total to $3,000. Then your great-grandfather told Reverend Cavanagh to save it. Following me so far?”

  “Yes, I have known all my life about the fund. Being born near the end of the Great Depression, Granda always saved everything. Even if he didn’t read it.” Sean nudged the box at his feet filled with unopened statements dating back more than four decades.

  “To make a long story short, the investment remained untouched. It multiplied and spilt. I recall my father trying to convince the reverend to do something with it, but he wouldn’t touch it. Your grandfather is as stubborn Irish as they come and refused to believe it could be worth more than his original $2,000. He did give our investment firm some power over it, so any taxes due have been paid as the dividends were reinvested.” Ansley wrote on the notepad.

  “This is where I come in. As you can imagine the Cavanagh fortune has been something of a running joke in our family my entire life. But because of privacy we could never say anything to you. Earlier this year the Reverend asked me if it was better to give you his rainy day fund now or leave it to you in his will. He had read about inheritance taxes and was afraid you would only get a thousand dollars.”

  Both Nick and his father stifled laughs.

  “Anyway, you know how your grandfather is about making a decision. He kept putting it off even after I explained that taking care of things while he was living was the best course to take. He called me the morning he got home from the hospital and asked me to transfer the fund. He said he thought you would need it to buy a ring soon.”

  Sean felt his face heat.

  Ansley laughed. “I keep hoping Nick will need to do the same thing. We rushed the paperwork to have the transfer under this year’s tax laws. It isn’t a transfer as much as you are now a joint account holder with your grandfather.”

  “Oh, that makes it better. I only own half of 1.8 billion. I can’t even start to comprehend this. No wonder Granda didn’t want to hear about it.”

  Ansley turned the pad to Sean. “I think you are going to owe roughly 600 million in taxes since this is triggering a tax event, but that is something for our CPAs to figure out.”

  “Just think, your taxes can single-handedly fund a government agency for a year.”

  Sean gave Nick a wry smile. “Just what I have always wanted to do. I don’t even know how to handle a million dollars. What am I going to do?”

  “Don’t worry Sean. We will be here for you as friends and as your investment firm. The next few months will probably be the hardest. Eventually the media will get wind of this, and every long-lost aunt and her twenty cats is going to be asking you for a donation or a loan. You probably will want to find a charity, but ignore most of the requests.” Ansley’s reassurance didn’t help much.

  “I’ll be honest. The worst thing about having money is the dating. I never know what impresses her most, my witty sense of humor or my ranking in the three comma club.” Nick shook his head.

  How would Tessa take the news? Having money could change the way their long-distance relationship worked. What if he partnered in her glass studio? How do you even tell someone that you just inherited an insane amount of money? Other questions raced through Sean’s mind at a dizzying pace.

  “Breathe Sean. You look like you are thinking yourself right out of the room.” Ansley handed Sean a water bottle.

  “It is going to still be a few days before you have full access to your funds, and even then it isn’t like you can go buy a Manhattan high-rise. However, we thought you might like to be part of the Blue Pines Museum project.”

  Sean thought he knew where Nick was headed. “S
o I buy the church?”

  Nick nodded. “The papers we gave your Grandfather and the church board are a bit vague on who the buyer is since the Blue Pines Museum is an educational non-profit. Basically, you sign these forms donating the funds to the Museum project and this one accepting a place on the board, and you buy the church for the community.”

  “Where do I sign?”

  Nick stuck out his hand. “Welcome partner .”

  Tessa,

  It has been a couple of very odd days here. There is so much I want to say but I don’t even know where to start. Would you give me your phone number please?”

  Hope you are having the best of days,

  Sean

  Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before she responded.

  Sean-

  Is your grandfather alright?

  T.

  The reply came back in minutes.

  Granda is the same. Making plans to move to Florida. He sold the church to the Blue Pines Museum and gave me the house.

  Phone number please? Mine is 212-555-5683.

  Sean

  Tessa picked up her phone and prayed someone would answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Candace? Help.”

  Two days later, Sean walked into Nick’s New York office. The secretary told him to have a seat in the waiting area. since he didn’t have an appointment.

  “Sean, you have perfect timing. I have a clear calendar for at least an hour. Coffee?”

  Sean shook his head, and Nick dismissed his secretary.

  “I keep thinking this is some huge joke. I don’t even know where to start.”

  “Keep it simple for now. Don’t go buying anything huge. Use the money to help your Granda with his retirement.”

  “He spent a half hour last night preaching on the ninth commandment. He thinks I am lying about the money.”

  Nick laughed so hard he had to turn to the window to compose himself. “Now you know what we have been facing all these years.”

  “For years I dreamed of buying Granda’s house, someday and somehow, and live there. I guess it is mine now anyway, but can I live there?”

  “Why not? Put in an alarm system. Your neighbors aren’t going to bother you much. We have an extra office here. For now you can use it so you can list it as your business address instead of the apartment. Once Forbes figures out that you belong on their annual list, you’ll want a personal assistant anyway.”

  Personal assistant? Forbes? Sean shook his head. “You mean I would need to work here? I’m still trying to figure out what to do about repairing organs.”

  “No, you can do whatever you want to. It is just a space you can rent in the interim. Repair organs. Work on the Blue Pines Museum. Hide out from life.”

  “How involved can I be with the Museum project when it comes to the church?”

  “As hands on as you want to be. It might help you to focus on that for a while anyway. Deal with fixing the old building as well as play several concerts during the year and on Christmas Eve. I also hope you will work with the Museum. There is enough history hiding in the cellar of the old church to fill half of it.”

  “I think I can do that.”

  “It is completely selfish, I assure you. It wouldn’t be Christmas without the church, and besides, someday our children will need to play hide-and-seek in the basement.” Nick smiled.

  “We need to be clear that the boiler room is off-limits.”

  Nick pointed at Sean. “As I remember, you hid in there.”

  Sean pointed back at his childhood friend. “But you are the one who locked the door. Granda was frantic when he finally found me. I banged on those old pipes so long he thought the place was going to blow.”

  “Maybe we won’t let our children play down there. Not that I should worry. I still need to find a wife.”

  “Me too.”

  “What about the glass girl I saw you with? It looked like you two had something going on.”

  “She left. Doesn’t do long distance. We were emailing, but she didn’t return my last one.”

  Nick leaned forward in his chair. “Oh? Anything I can do to help?”

  “Short of getting me into Daniel Crawford’s New Year’s bash? Probably nothing,” Sean joked.

  “Why there?”

  “Tessa was roommates with Mandy Crawford, and it’s the one place I know where to find her without becoming some creepy stalker.”

  Nick moved some papers around on his desk, then punched his intercom. “Do you know where the invitation to Daniel Crawford’s New Year’s Party in Chicago went?”

  “Yes, it’s in my decline-and-thank-you box.”

  “Can you bring it here?”

  The secretary opened the door and handed Nick a paper. Nick read it and gave it to Sean. “I’ll drop Daniel a text to let him know you are crashing.”

  “Really ? Just like that? I’m going?” Sean sat dumbfounded not sure if this was due to friendship or his new financial status.

  Nick leaned back in his chair. “I saw you together. If I had a girl who looked at me like that, I’d go farther than Chicago to get her back.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “How about thanks, and then hurry on out of here and make sure your tux is clean?”

  “Tux? I guess I should go buy one.”

  Nick typed into his phone. “I just texted you my favorite shops. Tell them I sent you.”

  Nick walked Sean to the door. “Do you want my secretary to book a flight?”

  “No, I think I’ll drive.”

  “Good luck!”

  twenty-four

  She didn’t belong here. The rented dress, the too-tight shoes, the hose—whoever invented these torture devices must have been male and semi-sadistic. She wondered if anyone would notice if she slipped into the ladies’ room and donated them to the rubbish bin. Would anyone notice if she slipped out? Would anyone notice if she stood on her head?

  Not likely. Standing between a potted tree with twinkly lights and a painting of tulips—probably an original Georgia O’Keeffe—Tessa felt every inch the wallflower. Even the toenail peeking out of the open toe of her shoe had a flower on it. This morning during her pedicure with Candace and Mandy, she’d pretty much told them everything. To her surprise, both girls urged her to get back to New York as soon as possible. Candace had twirled the curls in her new auburn wig. “Girl, Sean is nothing like Gavin. Remember all the pressure he put on you? Sean didn’t do any of that.” Mandy pointed out that Tessa really didn’t need to be at the school more than a couple weeks all semester and Daniel’s business loan offer was still on the table. They’d even lined up the first commission for her—ironically, a flower-motif window for the old Crawford Mansion community center.

  The newlywed Crawfords were speaking with several people she didn’t know near the door. Mandy’s hand rested on her—No way! Could Mandy be expecting? Tessa searched for Candace. Surely she would know. Candace’s soft champagne curls were easy to spot on the dance floor. Wow! Who knew Mr. Computer could dance the waltz like Fred Astaire? They looked like one of those couples on a reality dance-off show. As far as she knew, Candace hadn’t taken dance since she was fifteen, and that had been ballet. Tessa wished Araceli had come. Then she would have someone to gossip with. Even Bonnie and Mr. Morgan were dancing.

  Tessa watched as Colin and Candace danced to a new song. A rumba? A tango? Honestly, she had no clue. She absently toyed with the little beaded bag Mandy had given her to match the dress. She could feel the hotel key card sliding around next to her phone. Really, no one would notice if she slipped out. Once she found a cab, she would text Candace so she wouldn’t worry. The last thing she needed was Alex and Abbie, Daniel’s ever-present but d
iscreet bodyguards , searching Chicago for her.

  She turned to go and bumped into a man who reached out to steady her.

  “Oh, pardon me,” she said, addressing his shiny shoes, too embarrassed to see which of Chicago’s jet set she’d bumped into. Bad manners, but if it was one of Daniel’s famous friends, she would either faint or cry, and that would be worse.

  The hand did not let go when she tried to step around him.

  “Tessa.” No mistaking the New York accent, but here?

  Tessa blinked twice. She laid her free hand on his chest and was reasonably confident she couldn’t hallucinate a heartbeat. But she hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol all night. “How? Why?”

  Without a word, Sean lowered his head and kissed her like the entire ceiling was coated in mistletoe. Betty Everett had won. The answer was in his kiss.

  “I know that doesn’t explain everything,” Sean rested his forehead against hers, “but I hope it helps cover the why. Tessa, you make my world sparkle, and I don’t want to lose you or us. I know these next few months will mean a lot of traveling back and forth, but we need to try.”

  “You are willing to come out here for me?”

  “Perhaps I didn’t do it right the first time.” Sean pulled her close for another kiss.

  Tessa believed he might find an organ to repair on Bora Bora if she lived there. “What if I told you, since all I need to do this semester is a few papers and present my MFA review papers, that I don’t have to be at the school full-time?”

  “Where would you go?”

  “Well, I heard the blizzard sent a tree through a church window in New Rochelle, so I emailed them my bid yesterday.”

  “As in New Rochelle, the town on Long Island? You’re going to come back?”

  “I kind of hoped their organ needed work too, so I could recommend this guy I met. He would come, and maybe we could go on a date. And after that another one?”