Mending Walls With The Billionaire (Artists & Billionaires Book 3)

by Lorin Grace

  Now he understood what Father was talking about when he told that ridiculous story about falling in love with Mom.

  Music played from Chelsea’s phone as the children strutted across the porch in their new clothes. Jade announced each child, saying something about their creation, as Marci interpreted. A couple of the dresses sewn by the older girls looked to Araceli’s untrained eye to be more complicated. A few boys had sewn new shirts.

  Everyone applauded when the last child twirled to show off her dress.

  Saying goodbye to the children was going to be harder than she thought.

  Tia gave her a huge hug and whispered, “It was Miss Jade. She said I would get in trouble if I told anyone. She said they would think I told lies and no one likes someone who lies.”

  Just as Araceli suspected. “Don’t worry, I believe you. You are not in any trouble.” Araceli hugged her again. There was no point in sharing Tia’s revelation.

  Martin tugged on her sleeve. “Miss Araceli, please come back and teach us about how to paint real things.”

  “I’ll try.” If things didn’t work with Kyle, she didn’t think she could ever come back. But if they did, maybe she could figure out how to come with the summer group.

  “Try hard. We like you.” André nodded to the children around them.

  “I like all of you too.” She blinked back tears.

  Of all the other volunteers, only Marci seemed tearful. Marlissa’s announcement about coming to Dallas for surgery had left the youngest Evans girl near tears all afternoon.

  Half the volunteers had already climbed into the vans. Kyle and the director did their best to get the children, many of whom were still wearing their new clothes, away from the vans.

  Kyle wrapped his arm around Araceli’s waist. “Come on, ma belle. Time to go. Don’t make it difficult on the children by letting them see your tears.”

  Araceli nodded and allowed herself to be led to the van. Kyle climbed in beside her. The doors slammed, and the drivers started back to the guesthouse.

  The rutted roads didn’t bother her as she watched children gather around the community well to draw water and listened to the colorful tap taps honk their horns. Marci was right about them. One could write a dictionary of the meanings of car horns in Haiti. Each beep and honk comprised a language the drivers understood.

  Kyle’s arm tightened around her shoulder. She hadn’t realized he was holding her so close. She leaned into him and thought he kissed her hair. She wanted to say something but dared not miss any of the panorama outside the window.

  “I forgot to buy something to take back to my roommates.”

  “We have a couple hours before we have to be at the airport in the morning. We will take y’all to a grocery store and an outdoor market. It will give you a chance to spend whatever leftover gourde you have from buying bottled water and dinner at the restaurant. Only the group that went to Labadee got any souvenirs, and I think the guys still need to buy their mothers something.”

  The smile in his voice brought a smile to her face.

  “Thank you for a such an incredible week.”

  “Anytime.”

  If only.

  twenty-one

  Leaving Haiti was more complicated than getting in. The customs officials questioned everyone no less than three times—the first time before they’d even checked in at the counter. Two full rounds of security scans were conducted—one to get onto the concourse and another to get off. The airport may have been able to fit onto a standard American football field, but they managed to put more security in the space than in the entirety of DFW.

  Marci sat down next to Kyle on the hard plastic seats. “If you take EmilyAnne and me to the next concert of our choice, we will swap seats with you and Araceli so you can sit together.”

  Tempting. “Who else is in your row?”

  Marci shrugged. “No one from our group.”

  “Floor seating or private box?”

  “It depends on the concert.”

  “Deal.”

  Marci told him his new seat numbers. “We decided you could have the center and she gets the window.”

  “Good thinking.” Considering he’d pondered upgrading to first class to have three more hours with Araceli, Marci’s solution was perfect. Mostly because no one could complain he was playing favorites.

  Araceli wandered back from the duty-free shops. “I found some of the Askanya chocolate you bought me in Jacmel. I probably bought more than I should, but my roommates and chocolate are inseparable. It will be gone by Sunday night.” She took the seat Marci had vacated.

  “My sister has been plotting. She and EmilyAnne are trading their seats for ours. They both end up with aisle seats, but we are together with a person not in our group in the third seat.”

  Araceli beamed. “She told me she was going to do it. How much did you have to pay her?”

  “Tickets to an upcoming concert of their choice.”

  “I thought she would have tried for more.”

  “And I would have paid it.”

  They made their way through the last customs checks and out to the tarmac. Kyle made sure everyone got through security and on the plane before he boarded after Araceli.”

  They were just buckling in when they heard Jade and Marci arguing behind them. Kyle stood up and talked over the seats.

  “Is there a problem, Jade? Is someone in your seat?”

  “No. There is someone in your seat.” Jade tilted her head in Marci’s direction.

  “Yes, I traded Marci her center seat for my aisle seat.”

  “What about Araceli?”

  “She traded her aisle seat with EmilyAnne so Marci and EmilyAnne could still sit near each other. I am not sure how this affects your seat.”

  Jade crossed her arms and huffed. Marci sat down, and they avoided a scolding from a flight attendant.

  Kyle also sat down and put on his seat belt. “I hope she doesn’t give Marci a hard time, or I will have to up my payment.”

  Araceli smiled and took his hand in hers. “I hope it is worth it.”

  “It will be.”

  The fasten-seat-belt sign pinged for the last time. Araceli wished the flight wouldn’t end. Even with a planned video call schedule and vague ideas of what she might do to find employment in Dallas, the next month and a half loomed large before them. But something in Kyle’s eyes made her believe the promise that they could make the days apart work. He would fly into South Bend airport two days before graduation, and they would figure out things from there.

  “What if I can’t wait until mid-May to see you?” Kyle spoke in her ear.

  “Last time I checked, both South Bend and Fort Wayne had daily flights to DFW. Or if you are really desperate, you can do what my old roommate’s husband did and charter a flight to the county airport.”

  “How did he afford that?”

  “Same way Daniel Crawford III affords anything, I suppose.”

  “The top-one-hundred most-eligible bachelor Daniel Crawford?”

  Araceli smiled. “Yup, do you know him?”

  “I’ve been at a benefit or two he has attended, but I don’t really know him. How did she meet a billionaire?”

  “Unlike us, they were friends when they were little.” Araceli snuggled deeper into his chest. Ten more minutes and she wouldn’t have the chance again.

  “Wow, what are the chances two artists would date billionaires?”

  “Three, maybe four. Not sure about the fourth. But they say opposites attract. Starving artist and never-gone-hungry billionaire. That is pretty opposite.”

  “Four?”

  “Possibly. Tessa fell in love with Sean before he knew he was a billionaire, and he is having a hard time adjusting to all that
money. He would be perfectly happy repairing organs for the rest of his life. He hasn’t proposed yet. But he is building her a stained-glass studio near his home, so I think they are working on their happily ever after. Then there’s Candace and Colin Ogilvy, Daniel’s best friend, who I am pretty sure is a billionaire. They have this odd friendship, both denying it’s anything else. I am not so sure.”

  Kyle tightened his hold on her. “So, have you ever starved?”

  “No, but I did clean bathrooms to raise part of the money to come until Mandy offered to sponsor me.”

  The pilot’s voice came over the intercom announcing the standard prelanding instructions, the flight attendants translating them into French and Creole.

  Kyle pulled his arm from around Araceli. “How long is your layover?”

  She sat up but refused to let go of his hand. “Two hours. Long enough to get through customs, I hope.”

  “Ours is three. May I walk you to your terminal?”

  “Of course.”

  Customs went faster than expected. The facial recognition machines helped. The group gathered their suitcases and checked in for the last leg of their flights. As she expected, her small plane to Fort Wayne was leaving from a different concourse than the flight to DFW. Araceli gave final hugs to most of the volunteers and promised to keep in touch with Madison and Marci as they waited to get through airport security, again.

  “I don’t think I have been scanned, sniffed, or inspected so much in my life. I feel as though I should get a sticker in the center of my forehead.” Madison pointed to a place above her brows and crossed her eyes trying to look at it. “Inspected by number twelve and the K-9.”

  Everyone laughed as they boarded the trains to the terminals.

  Kyle and Araceli got off first. He looked at the digital readout. “Thirty minutes until boarding. You don’t have to sprint this time.”

  “Thank heavens.”

  They strolled behind the other passengers searching for their gates. As they started to pass an empty gate, Araceli led Kyle over to the window directly behind the check-in counter.

  “This isn’t your gate.”

  Araceli leaned her carry-on against the back side of the partition and spoke the words she had been practicing with the help of her translation app. “Ban m yon ti bo?”

  Kyle cupped her face, and they enjoyed the first uninterrupted kiss of their relationship. Araceli went up on her tiptoes to deepen the connection. Kyle’s arm encircled her waist, securing it.

  It was over too soon.

  Kyle rested his forehead on hers. “I wonder if there are any seats left on your plane.”

  “Deah might not be too happy if you don’t go home with Marci.”

  “But she would be thrilled to know I am in love.”

  Araceli pulled her head back so she could look into his eyes. “Are you?” She was as helpless to stop the grin on her face as she was the heat in her cheeks.

  “Aren’t you?”

  She pulled him into an answering kiss. She didn’t dare say the words, hoping it would be answer enough for now.

  Above their heads, the loudspeaker crackled.

  This time Araceli ended the kiss. “My flight.”

  Kyle leaned down and took her bag in one hand and her hand in the other.

  At the gate, he pulled her into a hug, and they waited until everyone else boarded. His last kiss was to the tip of her nose. “Fly safe, Celi, ma belle.”

  She didn’t look back as she walked down the Jetway. If she did, she knew she would not get on the plane.

  twenty-two

  Candace looked at her phone. “It is almost eight. Are you going to your room or hogging Lover’s Loft again?”

  “I am not hogging it. You and Zoe don’t need to use the loft, and since Tessa is in New York ‘setting up her studio,’ she isn’t using it.” Araceli felt snarky enough to use air quotes. “Do you really have a problem while I talk on the phone up there? It isn’t like when Sean is here, or Daniel was last year. Believe me, I really am just looking at the stars.”

  Zoe looked up from her laptop. “You know we are teasing you, and Candace is worried about having to find a new roommate. Although Abbie has taken Tessa’s room and will be hanging around until the baby is born since she doesn’t like hanging around with the other guards when her brother isn’t one of them. That still leaves Candace with empty rooms.”

  “It isn’t like you are losing me because of Kyle. I’m still graduating.”

  “But if you chose more education, you would be here another year.” Candace twirled the ends of the orange paisley scarf she wore.

  Araceli’s phone chimed for an incoming video call, and she sprinted to the library before answering.

  “Hello?”

  “Celi, ma belle, how are you this evening? Ready for your Haitian lesson?” Kyle started the call as he always did.

  Araceli settled into one of the beanbags in the loft. After two weeks of nightly calls, she felt as if their relationship was growing stronger.

  “I can’t come out next weekend to celebrate your birthday like I planned.” Kyle’s frustration filled the screen.

  “What happened? Not your grandfather, I hope.”

  “No. Jade’s dad pulled some strings and got us on one of the weekend Dallas shows. Mom has never taken the plight of the Haitians to TV before, but she feels the timing is right. Since they are featuring our last trip, they want me or Marci on the show.”

  “And everyone wants to keep Marci out of the media as long as possible.” Araceli finished the thought for him.

  “What about the next weekend?”

  “We talked about that one. It’s the weekend before all my final projects are due. As much as I want you here, I won’t get anything done.”

  “Nothing? I am sure we would do something.”

  Araceli made a face. “You know what I mean.”

  A chime went off on Kyle’s side of the phone. “Our two hours are up.”

  “Seriously hate the phone-call curfew.”

  “And I hate it when you miss class because we talk until 3:00 a.m.”

  Araceli sat up. “And you fall asleep in some meeting.”

  “Night Celi, ma belle.”

  “Ou toujou nan kè mwen.”

  Kyle smiled. “You are always in my heart too.”

  The screen went dim. Araceli blew a kiss to the sky. Maybe it would find him.

  Kyle wasn’t sure what had happened between the conversation in the green room with the show’s host, former Miss Texas Amanda Lamb, and the live filming. Somehow Jade had commandeered the entire show, including the seat next to Amanda, where he was supposed to be sitting. Every time he opened his mouth to answer a question, Jade responded first. At least she had her facts straight on poverty, human trafficking, and orphanages in general.

  When they started showing slides of the trip, Kyle looked for Marci in the audience. When he found her, he shook his head. Whatever Marci was planning was foolish and rash and probably involved storming the stage.

  Marci’s jaw dropped. Kyle redirected his attention to the slides. The photo currently on the screen showed Jade holding a paintbrush and pretending to paint on the crack in the wall, surrounded by children. Before he could interrupt, they moved on to the next slide showing the men working on the cabinets.

  One of the handprint-animal walls flashed on the screen. Jade continued to narrate. “The children loved helping with this wall. They were so sweet. Their smiles would warm your heart.”

  Kyle fumed. Jade hadn’t even been there.

  “Perhaps Mr. Evans would like to—” Amanda tried to cut in.

  Jade patted his knee. “Oh, this slide is of the men repairing damage to the roof caused by the last hurricane.”
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br />   Kyle moved Jade’s hand. The slides ended.

  “I have enough time for a couple questions from the audience.” Amanda shaded her eyes and pointed to one of the plants with a prescreened question.

  “My question is for Mr. Evans. Why do you work so hard down there and raise funds when you could use your family fortune to pump money into Haiti?”

  Kyle leaned forward in the chair. “That is really a three-part question. One of the major reasons we don’t just send money ties into the lessons learned from the 2010 earthquake.”

  “One more question.” Again, Amanda pointed to a prearranged plant.

  “This question is for Jade. Is it true you are engaged to Mr. Evans?”

  That was not the question about child slavery he was expecting.

  Jade was talking and tugging at his hand. Kyle turned to correct her. But as he did, Jade lunged into his arms and planted a kiss on him before he could push her off.

  Amanda signaled the camera crew to focus in on her. “Thank you, Evans Foundation, for making a difference in the world. Be sure to stay tuned for Sports Saturday and, as always, y’all have a safe and wonderful weekend!”

  Finally, someone yelled, “And cut!”

  Kyle stormed off the stage knowing Jade would follow. He didn’t want to air this conversation in front of shocked audience members or cameras. Her heels clicked behind him.

  He turned and put his hands up to keep her from coming closer. “Stop. Not. Another. Step. I am not sure what happened out there, but it was not what I planned. And in case I didn’t make myself clear in any of our previous conversations, I am never going to marry you. Not even if it would magically save Haiti.”

  The other volunteers, Marci, Amanda, and her producer stood inside the doorway watching the drama unfold.