The Billionaire's Retreat

by Rachel Hanna

  Patrick took a bite of his food, and the table went silent again. After everyone finished eating, the three other guests quietly excused themselves, leaving Jill alone with Patrick.

  She watched him pull a pill bottle from his pocket and quickly slide one of the pills into his mouth, taking a sip of water.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “You’re popping pills over there,” she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

  Patrick smiled slightly. “Getting old before my time. Stress will do that to you.”

  “Stress, huh? And what exactly does a billionaire have to be stressed about?”

  His face fell slightly. “You know about that, huh?”

  “Hard not to know that,” she said, lying. In reality, she’d done a Google search on him before dinner to see who she was dealing with. After all, his wallet looked like an ATM machine, and she wasn’t sure if he was some kind of con man. Nope, just a run-of-the-mill billionaire. It was very hard to bribe a man who had more money than everyone in the county put together.

  “Well, stress affects everyone. I thought you would’ve known that.”

  She nodded. “You’re right. Sorry. I wasn’t trying to be judgmental.”

  He laughed. “I think you were, actually.”

  “Okay, maybe I was. But in fairness, you’re not my favorite person at the moment.”

  His face changed again, almost as if she’d hurt him in some way. But he quickly regained his composure. “Sorry you feel that way, Jill. I guess I thought I was helping.”

  “Helping? You want to take my property, Patrick.”

  “But if the bank forecloses, it’s gone anyway. I think you’re taking your frustration out on the wrong person.”

  “What were those pills?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “That’s really none of your business.”

  “I know. But maybe there’s a natural alternative to what you’re taking. I was just going to give you a little friendly advice.”

  He smiled slightly. “Blood pressure pills. I was diagnosed about a year ago.”

  “You’re mighty young to be suffering with that,” she said. “Do you exercise?”

  “I do weights occasionally. Otherwise, I don’t have much time.”

  “You should try to do a hike while you’re here. The mountain air will do you good. We have some great trails…”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow after our tour, remember?”

  “Right. Also, cut your salt intake down. I saw you load up your potatoes.”

  “Noted.”

  “Magnesium is really good for blood pressure too, so maybe get some of that.”

  “Will do.”

  “But the best thing I can recommend, short of reducing your stress levels, is to try meditation and some gentle yoga.”

  Patrick laughed. “Yeah, I’m not really the meditating type, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “No one thinks they’re the meditating type until they try it and see the benefits. Why don’t you come to my morning class tomorrow? At least give it a try.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Scared?”

  “Um, no. I’m not scared of anything.”

  Jill smiled. "So you're not scared of anything? Then why don't you come to my class?"

  "Because I don't have time."

  "Seriously? That's the best you could come up with? It seems like you have all the time in the world because you can't take the tour until I finish class anyway."

  She stood there with her hands on her hips, her signature move. Being short didn't allow for a lot of physical intimidation techniques, so this was all she had.

  Patrick sighed. "Fine. If it will get you to stop talking right now and get me out of here faster tomorrow, I'll come to your silly class. But I'm telling you right now that I'm not going to become a yogi or a meditator."

  "Great. I'll see you at seven,” she said as he headed toward the stairs.

  He stopped and turned back to her. “Hey, just out of curiosity… why didn’t you tell the others that I’m a billionaire?”

  She chuckled. “Why would I?”

  “I don’t know. A lot of people focus on that.”

  Jill leaned against the doorframe. “I guess that kind of thing just doesn’t impress me.”

  Patrick smiled - a true genuine smile - and then walked upstairs.

  Chapter 4

  Patrick stood in his room, staring down at the plastic bag on his bed. He didn't know where she had managed to find him a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt overnight, but somehow she did it. And now he really had no reason to avoid going to her class.

  A part of him was enjoying their banter. He hadn’t spent time with a woman like her in many years. Actually, he didn't even think he'd ever known a woman quite like her.

  She seemed unimpressed by his financial status, which was refreshing. Most of the women he was around in the city only wanted him for one thing – his wallet.

  He usually grew tired of these women rather quickly. Most of them were vapid, empty headed gold diggers, and he just wasn't into that. He liked women with more substance, but those were getting harder and harder to find the more money he made.

  Patrick hadn't had a real relationship in several years. He did date one woman, Laura, for almost a year and actually considered proposing to her. He realized, just before he was about to buy the ring, that he was doing it more for status than for love. Last he heard, she was newly married and pregnant with her first child.

  He wanted to be like all of his other successful friends and be married too. But as he looked around at their eventual failed and unhappy marriages, he decided he’d wait it out. He wanted the real thing, even if it meant he never found the right woman for him.

  And, if he was honest with himself, he’d never quit thinking about Jill. Seeing her on the bridge that day fifteen years ago had touched something deep within his soul. And he had locked that feeling away as soon as he ran off into the woods. He never let anyone touch that space in his heart. He kept it walled off, almost protected. Patrick really don't know why given that it was only a brief encounter with a teenage girl on a bridge.

  But it had meant something. He just didn't know what it meant.

  And, of course, she had no idea when he ran away what he was actually running to. What was really going on in his life. She had no clue that he had been living his own personal hell when he ran into her that day.

  He walked down the hallway and ran into Winston before he could make it to the staircase. The old man didn't like him at all, it seemed. Patrick found humor in that, but he also wished that he had somebody like Winston in his life. A grandfatherly figure. Somebody to talk about life issues with who didn't care how much money was in his bank account.

  As much as he loved his business, he got tired of his life being a constant string of conversations about numbers and financials and return on investment.

  Sometimes he wanted to sit down with an elder and talk about real stuff. But Patrick was guarded. He’d been through a lot in his life, and letting people in was extremely hard for him.

  That was why it was so difficult to be around Jill. When he looked at her, at those eyes, all he wanted to do was let her in. He had this strong urge to sweep her up into his arms and never let her go again.

  "Good morning, sir," Patrick said to Winston as they passed in the hallway. Winston stopped in his tracks, looking straight ahead.

  "Morning," he said stoically. Patrick continued walking. "Hang on."

  Patrick turned around and looked at the old man. He had the bushiest eyebrows he'd ever seen, almost like an unkempt Santa Claus without the beard. Winston walked a step closer, his face serious.

  "I'm watching you. You need to know that."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Look, I was a Marine for more than twenty years. I may not look like much now, but I was pretty scrappy back in my day. And as far as I'm concerned, that little lady downstair
s is like my granddaughter. I don't leave people I love behind, and I don't take too kindly to anyone trying to hurt them."

  Patrick cocked his head to the side. “First of all, thank you for your service. I admire you for that, truly. Secondly, I'm not trying to hurt anyone, sir. I'm just doing business."

  "This is all that Jill has. You realize that, right?"

  "No, sir, I didn't realize that. But again, I'm really not here to make friends or enemies. I just want to see the property and make a good business decision. Surely you can understand that?"

  The old man shook his head and grumbled. “No, but I'm watching you. And if I see you hurting that girl in any way, I won't hesitate to…"

  Patrick didn’t let him finish. ”I’ve got it. Thanks for the warning. Have yourself a good day,” he said before turning and walking down the stairs. Old man or not, Marine or not, he wasn't going to stand there and be threatened by anybody.

  As Patrick walked around the corner to the screened porch area, he saw her. She was wearing black yoga pants, no shoes and a tight fitting tank top. Her hair was swept up into a messy bun, tendrils of it hanging down next to her face. At the moment, she was alone in the room, waiting for her students to arrive, no doubt.

  She turned and faced the mountains, her silhouette all that he could really see on the darkened porch. He leaned against the door frame and watched her as she reached her arms up to the sky, stretching tall.

  Then she swept herself over, touching her feet. He watched her move like a sleek racehorse, strong and confident. She was tiny, but muscular.

  Sensing he was there, she turned around, just a hint of a smile on her face.

  "You actually showed up," she said matter-of-factly.

  "Well, I kind of had to if I wanted to get the tour today. Plus you bought me these beautiful clothes, apparently." He felt like an idiot standing there in a gray T-shirt with puppies on it and a pair of black sweatpants.

  “I thought puppies suited you,” she said, stifling a laugh.

  “Not much of a dog person.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  “Not nice,” he said, a quirk of a smile on his face.

  This was certainly not the type of clothing he wore at home even when he was relaxing. Of course, relaxing wasn't something he did all that often. Normally he went straight from a business suit to his pair of prized silk pajamas.

  "We can get started then." She waved him over into the middle of the room, a lone blue yoga mat on the floor.

  "Wait a minute. I thought this was a class? Where are the other students?"

  "This is more of a beginner class, and since my current guests are definitely not beginners, it's just going to be you and me."

  “So we could’ve skipped this and gone straight to the tour,” he said, slightly irritated.

  “I like to keep to my schedule,” she responded.

  This was bad. Being alone with her for an extended period of time was not a good idea. But the way she was looking at him, expectation painted all over her face, didn't leave him room for argument.

  "Okay… So what do I do?"

  "Hang on. I'll be right back." She walked away, and he couldn't help but look at her backside in those yoga pants. It was something to behold. But he turned his attention back to the mountains off in the distance, not wanting the flushed red face of his Irish heritage to be the first thing she saw when she came back. It really was a beautiful view, no matter which way he turned his head, toward her or the mountains.

  Moments later, he heard soft, relaxing music come across the outdoor speakers. It sounded like something you'd hear while getting a massage, a babbling brook mixed in with the sound of an acoustic guitar and an occasional wind chime.

  She walked out in front of him and rolled out her own yoga mat about two feet away. She was facing him as she sat down, cross legged on the floor.

  "Okay, you're going to want to cross your legs like mine. And then close your eyes, and keep your hands resting on your knees." Her voice was soft and soothing. He could see why classes with her were so attractive to students. She really should record some sort of sleep meditations and sell them on the Internet. Maybe he would suggest that to her.

  He did as she said, without a word or argument. The faster he got through this, the faster he could be on his way. He just needed to see the property, so if he had to go through this whole charade of meditation first, that's what he would do. He was used to doing things he didn't want to.

  "I want you to take in some deep, slow breaths. So breathe in, hold it for a count of four… That's good… And then slowly blow it out through your mouth for a count of seven… There you go… Very good.”

  At first, he found his mind wandering, thinking about everything from her yoga pants to the financials on another deal he was working on. But he breathed in and out over and over again, and he found that his mind was starting to clear. He felt calm. Almost peaceful. The feeling was foreign.

  She had him breathe this way for several rounds. And then she instructed him to clear his mind as much as possible and just continue breathing naturally. She told him every time his mind wandered, he needed to have a mantra in his head. She suggested simply trying the word "peace".

  Every time he thought of something, he redirected his mind to the word peace. A few minutes later, it was over. Or at least it seemed like a few minutes.

  When he opened his eyes, she was smiling, her eyes wide.

  "What?"

  “Do you realize you just meditated for twenty minutes straight? I don't think I've ever seen a beginner do that!"

  Patrick was surprised. It seemed like only a few minutes. And he felt so relaxed, almost like he’d had a few too many cocktails.

  "I guess I had a good teacher."

  "How do you feel?"

  "Very relaxed," he said, an easy smile on his face. He couldn't believe it really. Doctors had given him anti-anxiety medication before, and he didn't recall feeling this good even after taking one of those. Maybe she was onto something. But he would never tell her that.

  "Good. Now, before we go out on our tour, let's do a little bit of yoga to stretch out." She stood up on her mat and waited for him to stand. Honestly, he felt like he wanted to take a nap but decided to play along with her just to avoid an argument that might spoil his calm mood.

  “Okay, the first thing I'm going to show you is downward facing dog pose."

  "Dog pose?"

  "Don't let the name throw you. This is really good for your back as well as the back of your legs. First, we’ll start by warming up with a forward bend, and then downward dog. So what I need you to do is bend from your waist…" As she showed him the correct position, she ran her hand down his back, walking around his body and touching him in different places to make sure he was doing the position correctly.

  Shivers ran up and down his body over and over, like an electric current that he couldn't turn off. No matter how many dates he’d been on in his life, he’d never felt anything like this. Electricity was the only way to describe it.

  She taught him several poses, pushing and stretching his body in ways he never imagined. Suddenly he realized he hadn't thought about taking the tour for quite a while. All he wanted to do was continue stretching with her, letting her run her hands all along his back and legs and arms.

  Maybe he really did need to talk to a dating service or one of those matchmakers his friends were always talking about. Or maybe he just needed to get a massage. But something about the way Jill ran her hands along his skin made him feel comfortable. Safe. Alive. But most of all, it made him feel peaceful for the first time he could ever really remember in his life.

  Jill had to admit that she enjoyed the meditation and yoga class she had given Patrick. And, much to her surprise, he had done very well.

  She didn't think she had ever seen someone meditate for so long on the first try. And he really seemed to enjoy it, which was surprising.

  But now, as she put on some wa
rmer clothes, the realization that she had to take him for the tour as promised was finally hitting her. And the last thing she wanted to do was show him around her property and wait for him to snatch it out from under her.

  He was a freaking billionaire. She wasn't really impressed by his wealth because money wasn't her main goal in life. But she was well aware of all the things he could do with that much money, including taking her property.

  When she was logical about it, she knew that he wasn't actually stealing her property. He was simply buying something that she was already losing. That wasn't his fault, but he was a great person to take it out on.

  She put on a thick brown sweater, her favorite pair of skinny jeans and some knee-high boots. When she walked downstairs, Patrick was already standing in the foyer waiting for her.

  And he looked pretty dang good. Surprisingly, he had on a sweater and some jeans himself. She wondered why he didn't wear those to dinner the last night.

  "You're looking mighty casual today," she said with a smile. "Where have you been hiding those clothes?"

  "Actually, I slipped out this morning after our class and went down to the only store I could find within twenty miles of here. Not the nicest clothes but I couldn't believe how low the prices were." He looked down at his sweater with a certain kind of pride on his face.

  "Those are what we call ‘regular people prices’, Patrick,” Jill joked.

  “Very funny. So, I’m feeling pretty relaxed after our class this morning. I'm all rejuvenated and ready to see the property."

  She couldn't help it, but her face fell. The property. Her baby. The thing she loved most on this planet.

  "Right. Well, I guess we should get going. We’ll start with the grounds closest to the house and move our way outward.”

  He followed her out the door, and they walked around the main grounds near the building. She showed him the outbuilding where they kept the yard equipment, and then showed him some of her very favorite views from the main property. They made their way down the trails to other parts of the property, most of it wooded with very few open spaces. He made notes on his phone and talked about plans for certain areas if he were to get the land. Jill tried to ignore it, tried not to think about the fact that she really wanted to push him off the nearest cliff to keep him from signing papers to buy her place.