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Mending Words With The Billionaire (Artists & Billionaires Book 5)

Page 1

by Lorin Grace




  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  nine

  ten

  eleven

  twelve

  thirteen

  fourteen

  fifteen

  sixteen

  seventeen

  eighteen

  nineteen

  twenty

  twenty-one

  twenty-two

  twenty-three

  Epilogue

  acknowledgments

  about the author

  Dear Reader,

  Sneak peek of Mending Hearts with the Billionaire

  Other Books By Lorin Grace

  American Homespun Series

  Waking Lucy

  Remembering Anna

  Reforming Elizabeth

  Healing Sarah

  Artists & Billionaires

  Mending Fences

  Mending Christmas

  Mending Walls

  Mending Images

  Mending Hearts

  Join Lorin Grace’s Readers Club Newsletter,

  Receive a copy of Remembering Anna; An American Homespun Novella delivered to your in box for free!

  Get your copy now.

  Copyright

  Cover Design © 2018 LJP Creative

  Photos © Deposit Photos, Fred Russo on Unsplash

  Formatting by LJP Creative

  Edits by Eschler Editing

  Published by Currant Creek Press

  North Logan, Utah

  Mending Words with the Billionaire © 2018 by Lorin Grace

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without permission in writing from the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, locations, events and dialogue in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are represented fictitiously.

  First edition: November 2018

  For Nanette

  Thank you for fixing my words.

  one

  Zoe turned the printed mock-up of the magazine layout upside down, squinted to make the image blur, then fully opened her eyes. As she suspected, the nose in the illustration sat too high and the title font needed to be a few points smaller. At the computer, she made the necessary adjustments. A+ worthy work. Hopefully her professor agreed.

  A tap sounded on Zoe’s door. “Dr. Christensen is on the phone for you.” Candace handed Zoe her cell.

  “This is Zoe.”

  “Sorry to call you on Candace’s phone. I couldn’t access your number since you are not currently one of my students.”

  “One of the issues with keeping my number unlisted.” Zoe gave an apologetic shrug to Candace. To be precise, when she’d transferred up here, she’d asked the university to keep her information as private as possible.

  “I’ll get to the point. Adrian Scott, one of my friends in New York, of Scott & Ricks—”

  Zoe restrained from gasping and tried to concentrate. Scott & Ricks was one of New York’s premiere advertising and design companies.

  Still, she missed some of what Dr. Christensen said. “—he asked if I had any students who could fill the position on short notice, and I thought of you. After checking with the other faculty, they agree. Although you are a transfer student, you would represent our graphic design program the best. I know you have Tessa’s wedding next week. It was so nice of her to invite me, too. Adrian is willing to have you postpone until the day after Labor Day. That only gives you two weeks to make arrangements. Would you like the position?”

  Zoe’s mind raced, trying to figure out what she’d missed in her excitement.

  “Zoe, are you there?”

  “Sorry. Yes, I am trying to make sure I understand—a job with Scott & Ricks?”

  “Internship. A favor to the school and me. The college wants to launch a graduate program in graphic design, and having this sort of internship helps give us credibility. I know you completed most of your studies elsewhere and wanted to graduate in December. I think completing your degree can still be arranged between the internship credits and a guided-studies online course. Your other professors and I can coordinate your work with Adrian Scott’s team. There is a small stipend with the internship, basically enough to not starve and not end up living in a homeless shelter.”

  “I don’t know what to say. An internship in New York—it’s unbelievable.”

  Professor Christensen laughed. “There is only one right answer. This is Scott & Ricks.”

  “Then I’ll take it. NYC, here I come!”

  “I’ll email you the specifics. Make an appointment with your academic adviser in the next day or so, and we can get your credits worked out for graduation. I’ll send her an email so she knows what we are trying to do.”

  “Thank you for thinking of me, Dr. Christensen.” Zoe hung up and handed the phone back to Candace.

  “New York? Do I officially have no roommates this fall?” Candace took a seat on the bed.

  “Sorry, cuz. I can’t pass up an internship in New York with one of the foremost design companies in the country. Eeek! Two weeks!” Zoe bounced out of her chair.

  Candace smiled. “You don’t look sorry. Just don’t go finding yourself some Wall Street mogul. Then the curse will be complete. It’s like I have the Midas touch. Every roommate I have ever had in this house has married someone whose income exceeds the GDP of Tonga.”

  “No way am I joining that club. You know how I feel about following trends. And I am not going there to date.” Zoe had no intention of getting into any relationship, ever. The last time she thought she was following her heart, life had taken a major detour, convincing her that love was a lie. Her sense of direction in relationships eclipsed her lack of sense of direction in general. No map or GPS could help. “If anyone is going to continue the trend, it would be you. Isn’t Colin Ogilvie worth at least $5 billion more than Daniel? You would end up the richest of us all.”

  “We. Are. Just. Friends. So stop it.” Candace left the room before Zoe could apologize. The ongoing argument was getting as old as it was pointless. Perhaps seven hundred miles between them would change how they ended their never-ending quarrel.

  Zoe turned back to her computer, singing the famous Frank Sinatra song. “If I can make it . . . New York! New York!”

  Nick Gooding sat across from Sean Cavanaugh, going over the contract. Sean looked out the window as often as a third grader on the last day of school. The view of the East River from the office window was not nearly as attention-grabbing as his friend found the scene to be. “Your mind is wandering again.”

  “Tell me yours wouldn’t if you were getting married in twelve days to the most remarkable woman you’ve ever met.”

  Nick shook his head. His friend was done for. A more significant part of him that he would never admit was jealous. Sean had found the one thing money couldn’t buy—love. Money could demand respect, inspire awe, and wield power, but in finding true friendship, money became a burden, and in seeking love, money could become a curse ten times more potent than one dug up with an Egyptian mummy. Sean had no idea how lucky he was. “I envy you. Tessa is perfect for you. I wondere
d if she could navigate your newfound wealth, but it seems to me she is the voice of reason—both in when to spend and when not to.”

  “Oh, that reminds me. I am keeping the old apartment until the end of the year. I need to let my accountant or assistant or someone know to pay the rent.” Sean pulled out a phone and swiped the screen.

  “Why? I thought you two just got the apartment mostly cleaned out.” The two-bedroom rent-controlled apartment Sean’s mother grew up in had been hard for him to let go. At one point, he had considered buying the building the apartment was in, but Nick had pointed out that the older building wasn’t the best investment if Sean wanted to get into Manhattan real estate.

  “One of Tessa’s roommates, Zoe—you’ll meet her at the wedding—got an unexpected internship starting after Labor Day. Finding housing on short notice and an even shorter budget in the city is nasty, so we offered her a trade. If she finishes painting the apartment, the place is hers until Christmas. It’s a win-win and saves me hiring a painter to get rid of the olive-green kitchen I never updated.”

  “Your mother never updated the place either. You know you are a billionaire now. You can just pay to have the work done and let your assistant deal with the hiring.” Nick flipped to the next contract left by the legal team. “You are still thinking of buying the building, aren’t you?”

  “You know I am. Since I am going to have to move out of Granda’s house, I feel like I am losing my roots. And some major remodeling would give us a nice place in town when we need to be here. I don’t know if I could ever do one of those penthouses with the black and white.”

  “Hey, are you dissing my pad?”

  Sean laughed. “Central Park South penthouses aren’t for every billionaire.”

  “It beats living with my parents. Not that I don’t like Blue Pines, but right now I prefer the city.”

  “Tessa still can’t get used to the idea of a housekeeper or staff of any sort. If we didn’t have such a problem with gawkers and solicitors, we would be happy with Granda’s old house now that the years of paper collection are cleaned out.” A lovesick smile plastered Sean’s face.

  Nick would trade his penthouse, the apartment in Paris, and almost everything else he owned if he could feel like Sean did about a woman and know she felt the same about him. “Let’s finish up with these contracts. I think you are going to be useless the rest of the week.”

  Sean didn’t argue.

  Nick slid a paper across the desk. If only he could be as useless. But he had other things on his plate to worry about. For months, the statistics had been on the front page of every magazine and newspaper in the country. #MeToo had prompted his father, Ansley, to have their lawyers take a hard look at the various company policies where they were invested as well as the systems within their own enterprises. They audited their entire portfolio of businesses, every passed-over case of harassment examined. At first Nick had doubted the need for reviews and training, but after months of interviewing, he wished there had never been one.

  two

  Zoe sighed as she watched the bride and groom kiss for the first time as husband and wife. The wedding had been everything she’d dreamed of as a little girl. Sean’s grandfather officiated, his advice blending serious and loving with a dash of humor. Radiant in her wedding dress, Tessa represented an ancient goddess of love and beauty.

  Candace handed Tessa back her bouquet, and Tessa and Sean began the recessional. Zoe waited for her cue, then took the arm of the groomsman, following the others down the aisle to the doors of the church. She barely glanced at the man at her side. He was handsome, polite, and rich. Why couldn’t she have been partnered with one of the other men? Neither was wealthy. The pub owner was irreverent enough to be off-putting, and the other was too tall for her taste.

  From the second she had been introduced to Nick Gooding, the zing of attraction had zapped her. Nodding and smiling at the well-wishers, Zoe did her best to ignore the electric current running up her arm. After all, too much electricity could kill, and she had been burned before.

  The newlyweds and their attendants exited the chapel, then gathered on the steps for the various photographers and cameramen to memorialize the moment before climbing into the horse-drawn carriages for the ride to the museum for dinner and the reception.

  Nick sat next to Zoe. “I get the distinct impression you’d like to be someplace else, perhaps with someone else.”

  Zoe cringed. She hoped she hadn’t been that obvious. Between her roommates’ teasing from the last two nights and her natural reluctance to be paired with any man, Zoe had done exactly what her mother had warned her not to do. Be rude. “It’s not you. I mean, I don’t even know you after only two days of wedding stuff.” She bit her lip, searching for an answer that was graceful and kind. “It is the curse of the Art House. I am the only one of Candace’s roommates to avoid dating a millionaire or billionaire, and when they realized I was paired with you for the wedding, they started teasing . . . and well, I am not going to succumb to the curse.”

  “Curse?” Nick raised his eyebrows and adjusted his cuff links.

  “Candace says the curse is her own Midas touch. Every roommate she has ever had is married to someone who is a gazillionaire of some kind. I mean, look at Sean. He didn’t even have money when Tessa fell for him. It’s a curse.”

  “All of them?”

  “There were two roommates a couple years ago—one married this guy who designed an app, the other a tech mogul in Boston. Then there are Mandy and Daniel Crawford, Araceli and Kyle Evans, and Abbie and Preston Harmon, who are all here.”

  “Are your other roommate and Colin Ogilvie together too?” He glanced at the carriage behind them where the maid of honor rode with his old friend instead of the best man, who was with his wife and daughter.

  “My cousin Candace and Colin? That relationship is complicated. Very complicated. I wouldn’t say there are wedding bells anytime soon, but who knows?” Out of loyalty to her cousin, she would say no more.

  Nick nodded. “I have two sisters. I can imagine how much you got teased this week since you are the only unattached female in the wedding party.”

  “Probably more than you could ever imagine.”

  “So, because I’m single and wealthy, you are going to spend the rest of the day avoiding me?”

  When he said the words like that, avoiding him didn’t seem like such a good plan, but she nodded.

  “Well, I guess that is a relief. I was beginning to wonder if I had something hideous stuck in my teeth or some other repulsive feature.”

  Zoe turned her full attention to him. “Oh no. You are not repulsive at all!”

  Nick laughed.

  Zoe felt her cheeks heat. At least she hadn’t admitted just how attractive she found him.

  “And I haven’t been rude or offended you in some way?”

  She shook her head. “No, you have been perfectly polite. I am afraid I am the only one who has been rude. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “I am not offended. Usually my money has the opposite effect on women. For the sake of the bride and groom, do you think you could pretend I got a text from my banker informing me bandana-clad outlaws broke in and took off with all my gold? I believe we still have photos and an obligatory dance before the night is over, and the photo will be better if we appear friendly.”

  “You keep gold in a bank?”

  A rich, warm laugh nearly as potent as a hug came from deep inside him. Even his laugh was appealing. “Not anymore.”

  There was still the problem of the electricity between them, enough to power a Tesla, but not for all his money would she admit she was aware of it. “Well, if your money is gone, I have no reason to fear the curse. I apologize for being so childish. The fact that they all fell for men with money is a coincidence, after all. It wouldn’t
be possible for there to be a curse anyway.”

  Nick leaned into her shoulder. “What if it isn’t a curse? It could be a blessing.”

  She was still avoiding him, though not as openly as before. He suspected she was hiding behind the supposed need to hold the Crawford’s baby, Joy, so the couple could dance or sit with Reverend Cavanagh. It was something more than teasing over a curse, he realized, as she’d avoided dancing with the other groomsmen as well. Perhaps she also felt the magnetic pull between them. At the rehearsal dinner, he thought he’d imagined his reaction to her, or perhaps it was the triple chocolate dessert. On the carriage ride over, the sparks flew again, even as she ignored him. Nick finished his dance with Sean’s mother and escorted her off the floor.

  “Would you mind getting me a cup of the lemon water? I seem to be older than I thought.” She took a seat next to Revered Cavanagh.

  “Do either of you need anything?” asked Nick.

  Both men shook their heads.

  In the refreshment area, he found Colin Ogilvie on a similar errand.

  “Ogilvie, I had no idea you could dance like that. Next time I get one of those invitations to be on Dancing with Divas, I’ll refer them to you.”

  Colin frowned. “Please, no. I only can dance with Candace.”

  Something in Colin’s voice gave Nick pause. “Is everything all right?”

  “Just tired of the friend zone.”

  “Candace?” He’d observed Tessa’s friend with the ever-changing hair interacting with his old school chum all week.

  Colin accepted two water glasses from the wait staff. “Who else? I was hoping now that she will be roommate-less, I could get her to come to Chicago more, but she is more averse to change than anyone I have ever met.”

  “I thought Zoe lived with her. Wait—she is the one with the internship, right? Doesn’t she have other roommates?”

  “Candace hasn’t been replacing her roommates.”

 

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