A Brush With A Billionaire (Sweet Billionaires Book 2)

by Lorana Hoopes

  This was bigger though. Brent knew the money from Sam’s mother’s death had bought most of the equipment, but she’d had to lease the rest, along with the building. She had told him she was barely paying the bills, and now with the increase, the amount was more than Sam was bringing in. Soda Spurs was a small town, and most people walked. There just wasn’t enough business for her.

  He had more than enough money to buy her shop outright, and he wanted Sam back. Playful Sam who played music trivia with him. Loving Sam who rubbed his shoulders when they were sore from writing. And faithful Sam who prayed with him each night and accompanied him to church on Sunday. She was all these things and more, and he wanted her back.

  As he walked away from her house, he found his footsteps leading him to church. Maybe Pastor Ron would be available to talk to. He always seemed to have ideas on how to communicate. Perhaps he could help Brent figure out how to help Sam.

  * * *

  Sam watched as the door closed behind Brent and sighed. She hadn’t meant to say those words and especially not in that tone. She knew Brent just wanted to help. Like most men, he was a fixer. When he heard a problem, he wanted to fix it.

  The problem was, Sam didn’t want him to fix it. It would be easy to take his money, but she needed to know she could do this on her own. The only problem was… What if she couldn’t? What if there just weren’t enough customers in Soda Spurs to keep her garage open. Would she have to move? Or find a new job?

  “Lord, I don’t know what to do. I really need your guidance.”

  Only silence answered her. With a sigh, Sam stood and returned to the bedroom. If brunch plans were ruined, she might as well go to the shop and see if she could figure out some way to keep it open.

  She quickly changed out of her sundress and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Then she grabbed a banana from the counter and headed out the door.

  A small pang of sadness swept over her when she reached the shop and turned the closed sign over to open. She had hoped when she started her own shop that she would have weekends off, but she’d been coming in the last two Saturdays in hopes of getting more business. Once the reporters had gotten bored of Brent’s story and left, the business had died back down too.

  No car sat in the empty bay. It had been empty all week. Sam knew she would have to branch out if she wanted to keep the shop open here and that was what she planned to do today. Research affordable options she could branch into.

  Sam pulled up the stool behind the counter and turned on the computer. There was a click and a loud whir as the ancient machine struggled to life. Just another thing she would need to update when and if she ever had the money.

  The bell above the door jingled, announcing a customer, and Sam lifted her head. “How can I help…” The words died in her mouth as the man in her doorway smiled. She knew that smile. It had swept her off her feet her senior year. It had taken her to prom, and though she hadn’t seen the smile in nearly a decade, it had often wandered into her dreams. “Connor?”

  “Hi, Sam.”

  She rose from the stool and blinked as if he were an apparition. Before he left for college, she had thought she and Connor were destined to be together, but the distance had torn them apart as it often did with couples. It was another reason she hadn’t agreed to the long-distance relationship Brent had first proposed. She knew firsthand what would have eventually happened. “What are you doing here?”

  “I saw your story on TV and couldn’t believe my eyes. Car Head Sam Jenkins dating a billionaire movie star. I had to come see if it was true.” A look of jocularity poured out of his ocean blue eyes.

  Sam had forgotten the power of those mesmerizing blue eyes. “Well, it’s true.” She rounded the corner to get closer but kept a polite distance. “So, what are you doing now? For work I mean.” A red heat flashed across her face as she realized her wording had sounded more like a pick-up line than a curious question.

  His blue eyes twinkled at her obvious discomfort, and the smile that stretched across his mouth also accentuated the cleft in his chin. Oh, that cleft. It had been her kryptonite in high school. “I own a car dealership in Dallas.”

  Sam’s jaw fell open. Like herself, Connor had been interested in cars in high school. It was one thing that drew them together, but now he owned his own dealership? She couldn’t decide if she was more shocked or jealous. She didn’t want to own her own dealership necessarily, but they usually had a shop attached with them and owning that would be amazing. “That’s great, Connor, but what are you doing here? Soda Spurs doesn’t have a car dealership.”

  “Oh, I know,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m on my way to a conference, but I had a few days, so I thought I would look you up.”

  Another heat flare crawled up Sam’s neck. “You came out of your way to see me?” The words were small, choked.

  “Of course I did. I know we ended abruptly, but the year with you was one of the best of my life and when I saw you on TV? Well, naturally when I knew I was coming near here, I figured I should stop in for a visit.”

  “I…” Sam shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “What’s it been, Sam? Ten years?” He took a step closer to her, and Sam could almost feel the magnetic energy emanating from him.

  “Uh, yeah, close to that I guess.” Why was she feeling tongue tied around him? Sure, he was handsome, but they had dated so long ago. She had moved on since then, hadn’t she? There had been a few guys in college, Greg, and now Brent. “Well, how have you been? Are you married?”

  A dimple appeared in his cheek as he flashed a mischievous smile. “No, guess I haven’t found the right woman yet.” He took another step toward her.

  “Oh, me neither.” Sam leaned back as if that might break the power he seemed to have over her. “But I guess you knew that.”

  His eyes clouded for just a second, then cleared. “Do you want to get some lunch? As old friends, I mean. I’d love to catch up.”

  Sam pondered the proposal. She and Brent had parted on angry words this morning which she hated, but it was just lunch. “Sure, let me lock up. We can eat at Norma’s. She has pretty good burgers and great pie.”

  “Sounds good.”

  * * *

  “Brent, what can I do for you today?” Pastor Ron asked as he opened his office door. An older, plump man with a full white beard, Pastor Ron looked a lot like Santa Claus and Brent had heard he often dressed up as the jolly man around the holidays.

  “I was hoping I could talk to you about Sam.”

  “Of course, come on in.” Pastor Ron stepped back, holding the door open for Brent to enter.

  The room wasn’t large, but the layout of the desk, couch, and bookcase gave it a homey feel and not a cluttered one. Brent sat on the couch while Pastor Ron rolled the chair out from behind the desk.

  “First off,” Pastor Ron folded his large frame into the smaller chair, “tell me how you’re feeling. No lingering issues?”

  Brent nodded as his hand touched his side. There was no pain anymore, but sometimes his hand would creep to the spot and just touch it to be sure. “Yes, sir. I received a clean bill of health at my last check up.”

  “God is good.” Pastor Ron stroked his thick beard. “Okay, so tell me about Sam.”

  A heavy sigh escaped Brent’s lips. “I love her. I think you know that, but she won’t let me help her.”

  “What does she need help with?” Pastor Ron asked, a small smile on his lips. “From what I know of Sam, she is a highly capable woman.”

  “She is,” Brent agreed quickly. “That isn’t the issue. It’s her shop. Her landlord just raised the rent, and there just isn’t enough business here to keep her out of the red.”

  Pastor Ron nodded, leaned back, and stroked his beard again. A part of Brent was jealous of that beard – he’d never been able to grow a good one – but on the other hand, the few times he had tried, the beard had itched tremendously and driven him crazy.

  “And l
et me guess, you tried to give her money?”

  Brent shook his head. It sounded like an inane idea when it came out of Pastor Ron’s mouth. “Well, first I offered to talk to the landlord, but then yes, I offered to buy her shop. But only because I really want to help her. Sam has so much talent, and the lack of money is stressing her out.”

  “Yes, we always want to do that, but would you like me to tell you what I’ve found in forty years of marriage?”

  What kind of man wouldn’t take the advice of someone who had been married that long? Brent thought with a chuckle. “Of course. Lay it on me.”

  “Women don’t always want help.” Pastor Ron folded his hands across his belly as if that were it.

  “But I have the money.”

  “That’s wonderful. IF she asks for it. But what she wants right now is just for you to listen.”

  Brent sighed and bit his bottom lip. “Just listen?”

  Pastor Ron nodded. “When she wants your help, she will ask.”

  “But what if she loses the shop?”

  Pastor Ron reached up and stroked his beard. “Sometimes, it takes losing something we love to realize it’s okay to ask for help. And remember that God has a plan. If she loses this shop, maybe it will be because he has something better planned for her.”

  Brent’s shoulders rose and fell as he soaked in the wise words. “I don’t know how you can have such faith sometimes, Ron, but I will take your advice.” It seemed counterintuitive to every part of Brent. If he had the money, why couldn’t he help? But he would trust this man he had come to admire over the last few months. The man not only knew his Bible, but after being married so long, he probably knew women a little better than Brent did as well.

  “Faith comes with practice, Brent.” Pastor Ron stood indicating the end of the conversation. “You may find you have a harder time trusting God because of your money, but remember that He controls even that. What He has given, He can take away. And what He takes away, He can restore.”

  Brent nodded and shook the pastor’s hand, promising he would see him again on Sunday before heading out of the church. Now, only one question remained. Could he sit back and just be a sounding board for Sam?

  * * *

  “Well, this place is… quaint,” Connor said after a slight pause.

  Sam laughed and placed a hand on his arm. “It may not look like much, but I promise the food is good. Until I met Brent, I pretty much ate every meal here.” Sam led him to one of the far tables and they sat down.

  “So, this Brent,” Connor began, “is it serious?”

  “I think so. I mean he moved here to be closer to me.” Before she could continue, Norma appeared at their table, and while she didn’t say anything, it was clear from her expression that she had questions for Sam.

  “Norma, this is a friend of mine from high school, Connor Graham.” Sam hoped her introduction would soften Norma’s glaring eyes. She had never seen her friend so stiff and unwelcoming.

  “Well, we were a little more than friends.” Connor grinned as he extended his hand, “but it’s nice to meet you all the same.”

  Norma looked at his outstretched hand but ignored it. “The special today is baked potato soup. I’ll be back with waters.” She dropped the menus onto the table and spun off. Sam stared after her. She had never seen Norma act this way.

  “I don’t think your friend likes me.” Connor retracted his hand and rubbed it across his chin.

  “I’m sure it’s not you.” Though Sam wasn’t sure of that at all. “She’s usually so nice and bubbly.”

  “Maybe just a bad day then.” Connor picked up one of the menus and scanned it. He was clearly done with the topic.

  “Maybe.” Sam glanced Norma’s direction again, but the woman had her back turned and was filling glasses. She shook her head and picked up the other menu. Sam didn’t really need to read the menu; she knew most of it by heart and what she wanted wasn’t on the menu anyway. “Do you know what you want?”

  Connor’s brow was furrowed as he glanced over the menu. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I’ve been eating Paleo the last few months, and I’m not sure if any of this would qualify.”

  There was just a hint of haughtiness in Connor’s voice and Sam wondered where it had come from. He had been so down to earth in high school. “Well, I don’t know much about Paleo, but I’m sure Norma could make any substitutions you need.”

  “Perhaps if I just ask her to hold the bread.” Connor laid the menu down, but there was still a slight expression of distaste on his face.

  A minute later, Norma was at their table again, placing glasses of water in front of them. She set Connor’s glass down harder than necessary and sent water sloshing over the side and onto the table. “My apologies.” She grabbed some napkins from her pocket and handed them to Connor.

  Sam looked up at Norma again. Though her words had said ‘I’m sorry,’ her tone definitely hadn’t. Norma, however, was avoiding her gaze.

  “You ready to order?” Norma asked when Connor had finished mopping up the spilled water.

  Connor looked to Sam and gave a slight nod, indicating she should go first.

  “I’ll have the grilled chicken sandwich with extra avocado.” Sam handed her menu back to Norma.

  “I didn’t see that on the menu.” Connor’s eyes dropped to the menu again.

  “It’s not on the menu. It’s on the secret menu. Remember, I ate here a lot.”

  “Well, can I have the same thing without the bread then? Oh, and is there any way you can grill my chicken in coconut oil?”

  “Sorry, we only have Crisco around here.” Norma took the menu from him.

  “Oh, well then I guess it will be fine. I can just work it off later.”

  Norma issued a curt nod and then turned back to the kitchen.

  “Is there a gym in this town?” Connor asked, returning his attention to Sam.

  “Yeah, but it’s on the other side of town. Are you planning to stay?” Sam asked. “I thought you were just passing through.”

  “Are you that anxious to get rid of me?” A sly smile played at the corners of Connor’s lips.

  “What? No,” Sam said a little too quickly. “I just thought you were only here for today.” Why was he affecting her like this? Making her feel flustered. Was it because of the recent fight with Brent? Or did she have unresolved feelings for Connor?

  “I was hoping to at least stay for the day. See you in action.”

  Sam snorted. “Not much action around here in case you couldn’t tell. Soda Spurs is a pretty small place. In fact, I’m not sure you’ll get to see me in action. I don’t have any customers lined up right now.”

  Connor’s brows furrowed together and he twirled his straw around in his cup. “How are you staying in business then?”

  Sam didn’t bother trying to stop the sigh that escaped her lips. Her shoulders rolled forward and her eyes dropped to the table top. “To be honest, I’m not. If I don’t get some cash soon, I’m going to lose the shop, and then I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  “I’m guessing offering you a loan is out of the question,” Connor began but Sam’s eyes shot up and cut him off. He held up his hands like a peace offering. “Sorry, sore subject I guess.”

  “Why do you men think throwing money at the problem is the answer?”

  Connor chuckled. “Well, in this case, isn’t money the answer?”

  “You know what I mean.” Sam rolled her eyes. “No, I would not take a loan. I wouldn’t take Brent’s money, and I won’t take yours. I’ll figure something out.”

  “What if I could find a way to help you get the money?” Connor asked after a moment.

  Norma appeared then and placed the food on the table in front of them. “Thank you, Norma.” Sam stared up at her friend hoping to engage the woman and get a clue as to what was bothering her. Norma, however, just issued another nod and turned away. Sam watched her go, determined to talk to her later and find out what was going on.
>
  “Sam.”

  Connor’s voice pulled her attention back to him. “Sorry, what did you ask?”

  “What if I could find a way to help you get the money?” Connor repeated.

  “I don’t want a handout.” Sam shook her head. Why did men not understand that sometimes women wanted to work out their own problems?

  “Not a handout. Just a friend helping a friend.”

  Sam regarded Connor. It seemed odd that he would show up out of the blue to see her and then offer a way for her to make the money she needed. On the other hand, she had been praying for a way to get the money. Could Connor be her answer to prayer? “Let’s pray over the food, and then you can tell me what you have in mind.”

  “Uh, sure.”

  Sam closed her eyes. “Lord, we thank you for this food and for the hands that prepared it. And we thank you for bringing friends back together. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Connor repeated. “So, what if I could offer you a job?”

  “A what?” Sam asked before shoving a fry in her mouth.

  “A job. My regular mechanic is taking a month sabbatical due to the birth of his baby. I just purchased fifty used cars, and I need someone who can look over them and make sure they are ready to sell. Someone I can trust and who can start right away. It would only be for a few days, maybe a week at most, but I can just about guarantee you would make enough to cover your payment here. Maybe even a few months’ worth.”

  Sam knew that was true. Even her little shop in Dallas had made three times as much as she did now. If he were offering to pay her to check fifty cars, she could easily pull in as much as she needed to pay this month’s rent. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it would give her more time.