The Billionaire's Retreat

by Rachel Hanna

  She was a tough nut to crack. From the outside, with her petite stature and job that involved yoga and meditation, someone could have incorrectly assumed that Jill was a pushover. He was finding out that she definitely wasn't.

  As he laced up his hiking boots, he watched her talking to the other guests as they went on about their day. Alice was planning to go birdwatching. Ingrid was going into the woods to do some quiet meditation. And Winston… Well, he seemed to just be watching Patrick.

  Patrick had the distinct impression that Winston didn't like him. And that he didn't want Patrick to be around Jill. But unfortunately, she was the owner of the place and he didn't have much choice. Plus, he had ridiculously agreed to this one week stay at The Retreat.

  Just as they were about to walk out the door, Patrick's phone rang in his pocket.

  "Sorry, I need to take this. It's my assistant. I'll be just a minute," he said. Jill walked outside and waited for him. "Hello?"

  "Hey, boss, where are you? I thought you were coming back today."

  "Oh, yeah, I forgot to give you a call this morning. Listen, I've decided to stay up here for another week."

  "You're kidding, right? You're not exactly the outdoorsy type." Patrick paused for a moment. People really didn’t know what he’d been through as a kid.

  "Well, I'm trying something new. So just stay in touch with me on my cell phone, and I'll be checking text and email. I have a couple files on my desk that might need some follow up."

  "Okay. Good luck. Don’t get eaten by a bear."

  Patrick definitely didn't think that was funny.

  He walked outside, slipping his phone back in his pocket.

  "Hand it over," Jill said.

  "What?"

  "Your cell phone. You can't take that out on the hiking trail with you."

  "You have to be kidding me. Why do I need to leave my cell phone here? I'll just turn it on silent."

  Jill held out her hand "Nope. No cell phones while we are out in nature. It takes away from the experience. Plus you have the electromagnetic field around your phone…"

  Patrick held up his hand. "Fine. Please do not explain what the electromagnetic field has to do with anything. I'll just trust your judgment on this one." He chuckled and handed her the phone.

  Jill leaned back inside the door. "Winston, can you put this in the cell phone box please?”

  Patrick cocked his head to the side. “Hey, why did you give my phone to Winston?"

  "Don't worry. He can barely use his own cell phone. He's just going to lock it in the box that we keep other cell phones in that somehow make their way up to The Retreat."

  "This is the weirdest place I've ever been,” Patrick said as he started to follow her up the trail.

  Chapter 6

  As they walked along, Jill wondered what she had gotten herself into. He had barely spoken two words, and they been walking for almost ten minutes now. Maybe he wasn't happy that he had roped himself into this one week stay. And in all reality, she wasn’t sure why he even agreed to it.

  "Are you okay?” she finally asked.

  He chuckled. "Well, Jill, I'm more accustomed to sitting in an office in a very expensive ergonomic chair for most of the day. This is a little above my pay grade."

  She laughed and looked at him. "Not to inflate your ego too much, but you look pretty physically fit. I'm surprised that this would be difficult for you."

  “We’re in the mountains. This isn't exactly the typical terrain I see in my gym when I'm on the treadmill."

  "Maybe you should increase your incline next time. You really want to challenge your heart. Especially with your blood pressure problems."

  He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. They hadn't even gotten to the most difficult part of the hike yet, so she was a little concerned about his stamina.

  "You're very concerned about my blood pressure, aren't you?"

  "I am."

  "What I don't understand is why? I mean, you don't know me. We probably won't ever see each other again after this week."

  For some reason, that statement made her a little sad. She was used to building friendships with people and really placed a high value on relationships. She hadn't had many good relationships in her life, including with her own family, so building a family that wasn't related to her by blood had always been really important. And the well-being of the people in her circle of friends was a top priority.

  "Because I really care about people, Patrick. Is that so hard for you to understand?" They walked over and sat down on an outcropping of rocks overlooking a small valley.

  "I guess it is. Most of my life is filled with numbers and file folders and looking at properties. I don't have a whole lot of time to think about other peoples’ health issues."

  She pulled a bottle of water out of her backpack and handed it to him. "We are all a part of humanity. I think sometimes people who work in office buildings and don't get out in nature or to socialize with other people, well, it makes them a little bit detached. "

  "I get around people. I go to dinner parties and business meetings and…"

  "But do you do anything that doesn't have a purpose that ends with the almighty dollar?"

  He pondered for a moment and then shook his head. "No."

  "You say that like it's no big deal. Don't you understand that life isn't just about money?"

  "I get that it's that way for some people. But for me, my life revolves around money. It's the one thing I can control. It's constant. I know how to make it on demand, and that makes me feel comfortable."

  "I would beg to disagree. That makes you have high blood pressure."

  He chuckled. "Touché. But at least I can afford the best doctors."

  She rolled her eyes. “So, tell me what it's like to be a billionaire. I mean, where does your stress come from?"

  Patrick looked at her, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Really? Where does my stress come from?"

  "Yeah. I mean, most of the stress I have in my life is money related, so I assume that being a billionaire would be less stressful in the financial department."

  He shook his head and laughed. "Not really. We all have the same fears deep down. Losing everything. Messing up. Becoming a great big failure. Billionaire or not, I think that's pretty universal. And failing as a billionaire would be a pretty huge amount of failure for one person.“

  "Surprising. I guess I thought that having a lot of money would take that stress away."

  Patrick looked out over the ridge. "Sometimes, I think stress comes from things that happened in the past. And they just color every part of your life for the rest of your life."

  "Wow, that's kind of a pessimistic way to look at life. You don't think you can overcome things that happened in childhood? "

  "Well, if you can, I haven't figured out the secret to that."

  "I guess I have this innate sense that everything is going to be all right even when it seems like it's not. I don't know where that comes from."

  "That's good to hear. I know things will work out for you, Jill. You've been in worse situations than this."

  As soon as he said it, his face fell. It almost looked like all of the blood drained out of his body. What did he mean by that? She hadn’t told him anything about her upbringing, so how could he know she’d been through anything worse?

  "What are you talking about? What worse things have I been through?" She studied him carefully.

  "I… I just meant that everyone has been through worse things. I mean I would imagine. I know I have."

  He stammered and stuttered over his words, and this wasn't the first time he’d done that. Jill had the distinct impression that he was keeping something from her, but she had no idea what it was. Maybe he had researched her past? But it wasn't like her family problems were common knowledge on Google.

  "So what kinds of things have you been through, Patrick?" she asked, hoping to get some insight on why this guy’s stress level was so high.
r />   "I don't like to talk about it."

  "I understand, but sometimes if you open up…"

  "Jill, please. Look, I know you're trying to help and all of that. And I'm willing to give you a chance to help me learn new stress reduction techniques, but my private life is not open for discussion. I'm here on business, not to pour out all of my personal thoughts and history."

  She sucked in a sharp breath and blew it out slowly. This guy was tough. And he was definitely hiding something, probably several things. It made her uncomfortable, but it made her feel sorry for him at the same time.

  "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just used to people telling me things. It's really hard for me to help you figure out what's causing so much stress if I don't know anything about you. Maybe you could just share some basic things about yourself?"

  He loosened up a little bit and smiled ever so slightly. "Fine. I am about to turn thirty-one years old. I run a commercial real estate company that's very successful. I live in a penthouse apartment overlooking Atlanta. I have three cars including a sweet little red Ferrari. Oh, and my favorite color is blue."

  Jill sighed. "Do you realize that you didn't tell me anything about yourself?"

  "What? I just told you several things about myself."

  "No, you basically rattled off your resume other than telling me your favorite color. I don't care about your business or your penthouse or your cars. I'm trying to find out who you are, as a person."

  He groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know what you want from me."

  "Okay, let's try something different. Let me ask you some general questions, nothing overly personal. Does that work?"

  "I guess."

  "Okay, when you wake up in the morning, what's the first thing you think about?"

  He thought for a moment. "Well, I think about my schedule and where I need to be first. I think about the meetings I have that day, deals I'm closing, problems I need to solve."

  "Got it. And when you go to bed at night, what is usually the last thing you think about?"

  "Pretty much the same stuff. I usually make a list of all the things I need to do the next day and then pop a sleeping pill.”

  "What's your favorite thing to do on the weekend?"

  He laughed. "These are the most random questions."

  "Just answer the question."

  "Well, I usually end up working in my office, or sometimes my home office, on the weekends."

  "But don't you have any hobbies? Friends you hang out with? Places you go to unwind on the weekend?"

  "Not really. Running the kind of business I do doesn't allow for a lot of free time. I might occasionally get a glass of wine with a client or do a little shopping for a new suit."

  Jill laughed. "I think I know your problem, Patrick."

  "Oh yeah? And what is that?"

  “You don't have anything that relaxes you. You don't have a girlfriend or a wife or someone you love that can feed into your life. You don't have hobbies or friends that you can just hang out with and be yourself. You're always ‘on’. You're always the face of your company and constantly thinking about money and deals and problems and properties. You're one dimensional."

  "Wow. Thanks a lot. One dimensional."

  She touched his arm. "I don't mean that as a put down. I mean that you don't have any thing else to look forward to. You’re not feeding the other parts of yourself. When you have so much money, every deal is just a job. You don't need more money, you need more love. More time. More smiles."

  "And how are you suggesting that I get those things?"

  "Well, for one thing, this week I suggest that you completely unplug. No contact with the outside world, but most especially your business. Put somebody else in charge while you're here. It's basically like putting yourself in the shop, much like you would one of your prized cars. Completely focus on yourself and let everyone else do the worrying for you.”

  "I can't do that,” he said immediately.

  "Patrick, the reason you built this huge company and made it so successful was so that you could have freedom. Financial freedom, yes. But what about time freedom? Why have you hired all of these people if you're not going to let them work and take the load off of you?”

  He sat there for a moment, obviously contemplating what she was suggesting. "I see what you're saying, but now is a really bad time for me to just go completely silent."

  "It's never going to be a good time. And it certainly won't be a good time if you drop dead of a heart attack from all the stress."

  He laughed. "Boy, you know how to drive your point home. Okay, fine. I will call my assistant when I get back and let him know that I will check in at the end of the week but otherwise I am out of commission for the next seven days.”

  Jill smiled broadly. "Great! That will give us time to totally focus on helping you make some changes that will reduce your stress and improve your health."

  They stood and started walking up the trail again. "I still don't know why you want to help me. After all, I'm the man that you think is stealing your business from you."

  She stopped and looked around before looking back at him. "I don't know. I guess in my heart, I want to help people. A long time ago, somebody helped me when I was in a really bad situation. I've spent the rest of my life trying to pay it forward since I can never say thank you to that person."

  Patrick shifted uncomfortably, looking down at his feet. "Why can't you say thank you?"

  "Because I don't know where he is. I don't even know his last name. But all those years ago, a stranger saved my life and that made my purpose to save other peoples’ lives."

  Patrick sat on one of the decks overlooking the mountains. This place really was serene and peaceful. And those were two words that he didn’t use lightly.

  A part of him was glad that he agreed to this dare. Detaching from work for a few days was something that was long overdue, but that didn't mean it wasn't difficult.

  As long as he could remember, Patrick liked to control things. So much of his childhood had been out of his control that he'd spent most of his adulthood trying to keep all the balls in the air by himself. No matter how many people he hired, he never put one hundred percent trust in anyone.

  Trusting someone was dangerous.

  As he sat there, drinking very strong coffee that Jill had made after their hike, he looked around at the property. Soon, it would likely be rolled into the conference center and resort he would build. The trees would be knocked down. The land would be cleared. The views would change.

  A part of him was actually sad when he thought about it, but then his business mind reminded him how much money he would make for himself and others. How many jobs he could provide in the local area. And how progress had to happen. Things couldn’t always just stay the same. Progress always demanded change.

  "Oh, sorry. I didn't know you were out here," Jill said as she walked through the sliding door leading out onto the deck.

  "No, it's fine. Please come and join me."

  He pointed to the other rocking chair. This particular deck was off of the upstairs loft area. It provided one of the better views of the property.

  "So what are you doing out here?"

  "I am doing what I was instructed to do. Clearing my mind of all things business."

  She chuckled. "Good. Then I should go back inside so I don't interrupt you."

  As she started to stand up, Patrick's stomach growled so loudly that he was sure it probably scared the local wildlife. Jill looked at him and smiled.

  "You don't happen to be hungry, do you?"

  "Honestly? I'm starving. I don't think my body is quite used to burning so many calories in a day."

  Standing in front of him, she reached out her hand. "Come on. It's time for me to start cooking dinner, and I could use an extra set of hands."

  He stared at her hand for a moment. They looked much the same as they did fifteen years ago. He didn't know how he even remembered what t
hey looked like. So many brief glimpses from that day were seared in his brain forever. He reached up and took her hand, standing in front of her.

  "I'm not much of a cook, I should probably admit that now."

  She let go of his hand, and he felt an immediate void that he wasn't expecting. "I wasn’t a very good cook when I came here either. But you learn to improvise. I might be able to show you a trick or two. Although I'm sure that you have a personal chef back in the city, if armageddon ever happens and you have to make yourself some eggs, I can show you how."

  Patrick laughed. He was laughing a lot more in the last couple of days than he probably had all year. Something about this place, this woman, had brought him here yet again. The mountains had called him, and he had answered. And everything felt pretty scary right about now.

  Chapter 7

  Jill pulled her hair up into a messy bun and then sat down to put on her sneakers. Every morning was an early morning for her. Running The Retreat by herself now was proving to be more difficult than she thought. Even losing her part-time assistant had made things so much more hectic and exhausting.

  Although she never wanted to lose her business, a part of her was looking forward to a time when she didn't have to be so stressed out. Who knew that helping other people with their stress could be so stressful?

  Last night had been fun. Patrick had come to the kitchen with her, and they had worked on making some pies for the week. Then they made a very simple dinner for everyone of turkey sandwiches and chips. Again, Winston had sat at the table with a worried and irritated look on his face. He definitely didn't like Patrick for some reason.

  "Early start?" Patrick said as he came down the stairs, already completely dressed.

  "I get an early start every day."

  "Going somewhere? "

  "I actually have to go into town for some supplies. We're running low on some things in the pantry."

  "Need some help?"

  "No, it's okay. I know you do your meditation in the morning, and I wouldn't want to interfere with that."