The Barrington Billionaires Collection 1

by Danielle Stewart

  “For you kid,” he smiled, his cheeks still half covered in shaving cream, “I could move mountains with my bare hands.”

  Chapter 17

  “James,” Monroe called in a deep voice as a man and a woman approached their table. “Glad you found the place all right.” Aria noted how different Monroe seemed tonight. From the tone of his voice to his sharp perfectly tailored gray suit, clean shaven face, and slicked back hair. It made him look like a new man. A hot man. A sexy man. But different than she was used to.

  “Hello Monroe. This is my wife, Libby. Libby, this is Monroe Redson and . . .” James trailed off as he glanced her way and realized he couldn’t make the introduction without some help.

  “This is my girlfriend, Aria,” Monroe announced as casually as if it were true. “Aria, this is James and Libby West. I tell you, judging by the menu, I think we’re in for a real treat tonight. Aria spends more time on the island than I do, and she swears by this place.”

  “Wonderful,” Libby cheered as she took a seat by Aria and hung her designer bag over the back of her chair. “Aria, that dress is divine. I saw it in Paris a month ago during Fashion Week. My coloring is all wrong for it. I’m so pale and pasty, but it’s absolutely stunning on you.”

  “Thank you,” Aria blushed. “You are anything but pasty. You have the most beautiful porcelain skin.”

  James leaned in and kissed his wife’s cheek. “I told her she could have whatever she wanted when we were there, and she left with nothing.”

  Libby leaned in and in a hushed voice chuckled out a rebuttal. “I’m still not used to all this money. I come from very humble living, and since marrying James everything is different. I looked at the price tag on that very dress. I saw eighteen thousand dollars and panicked. Someday I’m sure it’ll sink in that when he says I can have what I want, he means it.”

  “Let’s hope,” James grinned. “But in the meantime you look stunning in everything you put on.”

  “You’ll have to forgive us,” Libby beamed. “We’re still in that honeymoon stage of life. I know it’s terribly annoying to be around us, but we can’t seem to help it.”

  “Don’t help it,” Aria replied quickly. “I think it’s wonderful.” She tried desperately not to show the reaction she was feeling inside. How in the world did a girl like her end up wearing an eighteen-thousand-dollar dress tonight? Maybe she should start asking Monroe a few more questions. “How did you two meet?”

  James’s and Libby’s eyes met and they both broke into roaring laughter as he explained, “There is literally no way to make that long story short. Let’s just say we were destined for each other. Star-crossed lovers. Doomed from the beginning, but somehow we made it work. Lots of obstacles yet here we are.”

  “Let’s get some drinks so we can toast to that,” Monroe said, flagging down the waiter. Aria watched as he skimmed the wine list, conferred with James and Libby, and then selected what she knew to be a three-hundred-dollar bottle of wine. A wine they served often at the resort. She was still trying to believe she heard the price tag on the dress correctly. Monroe, who she thought she’d calculated so perfectly and pegged so easily, was now becoming an enigma.

  The chatter was light and friendly as the night moved along. “So tell me Aria, what’s your favorite thing about the island?” James asked, as their meals were all placed in front of them.

  “This had better not be business talk,” Libby warned as she pointed her fork at Monroe and James knowingly. “I told you before I ever stepped on that plane we were coming here for downtime. A nice meal, no talking shop. If you two want to go off later and smoke cigars, sip Scotch, and bore each other to death be my guest.”

  “I was simply asking what Aria likes about the island. Monroe mentioned she’s spent time here. She picked this restaurant, which is amazing. Purely innocent social question.” James waited patiently until Libby lowered her fork and sank it into her fish.

  “Well,” Aria said, drawing out the word. In truth her head was dazed from the wine and the questions whirling through it about Monroe. Why would Monroe call her his girlfriend? Why was he willing to drop thousands of dollars on a dress for her? The extravagance the first night at the hotel was a lot, but she’d found a way to explain it away. He was here to investigate things. He was one of the good guys. What exactly was this business Libby was so concerned they’d talk about? She could hardly breathe as she considered it all.

  “Are you all right?” Monroe asked, looking genuinely worried as he touched her arm. “You look a little flushed.”

  “The wine.” She giggled. “I had more than I realized. It’s so good. I guess it just got away from me.”

  “Story of my life,” Libby said, trying to reassure her. “I swear I have to give my glass to the waiters some nights so James will stop filling it. When you’re having a lovely evening you lose track of how many glasses, or should I say bottles, get poured.”

  “Maybe we should call it a night after we’re through eating,” Monroe said, and she could feel his troubled eyes still on her. “I can walk you to the room and come back to catch up with James.”

  “Oh just stick with the original plan,” Libby insisted. “Aria and I will take the car service back to the resort, and you two can walk back when you’re through yammering on about stocks or oil or annuities. Or whatever it is you talk about.”

  “That sounds good,” Aria agreed, focusing back to Libby. “I’m sure I’ll be fine after I eat. You two should do what you need to do. Libby and I will be all set.” Nothing felt fine. Not her swimming head. Her churning stomach. Or her nervous knees. But if Aria had learned anything in her life, it was how to pretend to be all right. The guests at the resort demanded smiling faces, no matter what the staff had to do that day. Anything besides joyful greetings took away from their perception of the resort and then in turn, their experience.

  As Aria pieced things together, she realized the three people at this table were far closer to being like guests at the resort than like anyone who could possibly relate to her. So pretending to be all right would be just another day at the office.

  Chapter 18

  The driver came around and opened the car door, offering his hand for Libby and then Aria. She’d known many drivers in her life and most had a very special demeanor. Sweet, quiet, and passive. This dark-eyed older gentleman was no different. The ride was smooth, filled with jazz music and comfy seats.

  “I know you said you were feeling a bit tipsy,” Libby said after the driver let them out and they entered the lobby. Aria tried to avoid the attention of any of her bosses or coworkers, dipping her head low. “Do you think we can walk to the waterfall? They say it’s stunning at night, and the air is so refreshing.”

  “That sounds good,” Aria replied with a smile. Libby was kind. Her gentle features were welcoming and her humility refreshing. “I feel better now that I’ve eaten. And you’ve heard right, the waterfall is the prize of this entire place. You can hardly tell it’s man-made.”

  Relieved to be slipping into the quieter side of the resort, Aria quickly led Libby to the back of the property. If this place wasn’t such a drain on her soul, she could see the beauty in it. It wasn’t like she blamed the guests for enjoying their stay. Who didn’t love a tropical resort with blue water and white sand?

  “Can you believe this could be ours?” Libby asked, practically falling into one of the gliding benches and gesturing for Aria to join here. “You know there were days not that long ago I wasn’t sure how I’d fill my gas tank, and now I have everything at my fingertips. It’s still a lot to take in. How can I get my head around the fact that we could own this place?”

  Aria had a poker face. She’d honed the skill years ago, but with that revelation she knew it would fail her. “This place,” she stuttered out but then quickly righted herself, “it’s certainly luxurious. I can’t imagine what the price tag would be.”

  “That’s what I was saying to James,” Libby replied, completely u
nguarded. She was an open book, and Aria needed to flip the pages quickly. “But he said Monroe is the guy to partner with. That’s an impressive man you have there. James was told if you’re going to make an investment, you want Monroe Redson involved. He was skeptical but the more he dug around the more impressed he became. Monroe has a stellar track record. He’s known for finding all the secrets a place or a person could hold. And apparently his gut instinct is impeccable. But obviously you know all this.”

  “It’s a useful skill,” she forced out. “And the resort would surely be in good hands with James and Monroe.”

  “James is really looking forward to diversifying his investments. Owning a property like this is a great opportunity. I know I’ll enjoy it a heck of a lot more than any of the oil business junk. You and I could plant ourselves right here and read some good books. Maybe redecorate some things. Imagine setting up a little shack on the beach that sells ice cream cones.”

  “That sounds amazing,” Aria lied, kicking her head back and staring at the starry sky. Closing her eyes, she pretended to enjoy the serenity of the waterfall splashing and the cooling night air. In reality, she was reliving every conversation she’d had with Monroe. Had he said what line of business he was in? No. She’d leaped to conclusions about him being some kind of reporter or investigator. Hopefulness had distorted her vision of the truth. Monroe hadn’t lied. If he was keeping a business deal quiet, that was his prerogative.

  “I don’t think they’d have to change much,” Libby said, as she gave a little push with her legs to get them moving on the glider.

  Aria nodded but knew that wouldn’t be true. Monroe had been gathering all sorts of information. He’d improve this place in ways Libby couldn’t fathom. She and James seemed to be compassionate and worldly people who, when made aware of the circumstances, would surely be compelled to fix things.

  A weight lifted off of Aria’s chest as she allowed herself to imagine what life on the resort could be in a year. She’d stay by his side as he swooped in and made the needed changes. And maybe . . . just maybe when everything was settled he really could help her face the past. For a man like Monroe, now that she knew more about him, maybe the truth was within reach.

  “There you are,” James laughed, a puff of smoke rising above the cigar in his mouth. “I knew you would have convinced Aria into coming to the waterfall. It’s all you’ve been talking about since you saw it in the brochure.”

  “How was your Scotch?” Libby asked, hopping to her feet and sliding herself under her husband’s arm.

  “A productive after-dinner drink,” James replied with a knowing nod to Monroe.

  “Are you feeling better?” Monroe asked, reaching a hand to Aria on the glider and pulling her gently up. Being next to him again, taking in the earthy scent of the liquor on his lips, Aria felt whole.

  “So much better,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. “Just enjoying the beautiful night.”

  “Should I order some drinks?” James asked, and the heady feeling of relief had Aria rushing to answer.

  “Why not?” She beamed. “We’re in paradise.”

  Chapter 19

  One more round of drinks and the calm night erupted around them. Monroe noticed a small flashing in the distance. They were practically alone in their little corner of paradise with only a few stragglers and a waiter occasionally passing by, so the flash drew his attention.

  “Did you see that?” he asked as a few more lights flashed and then closed in on them.

  “James,” a man called urgently enough to have Monroe jumping to his feet and eyeing the newcomer. “James West, are you here for business or pleasure?”

  “Pleasure,” James answered, also standing, but gesturing for Monroe not to worry. “I’m here on a vacation with my lovely wife, and I’d appreciate some privacy. You got your pictures. Now you can move along.”

  Another man moved in even closer, and his camera flash nearly blinded Monroe. Paparazzi. He hated these people. Occasionally after a night at a club with a new girl or a particularly big business deal, he’d have these guys following him around. But he never expected them to know about this place.

  “I’m sorry about this,” Libby whispered. “They did this silly piece on us and our marriage, and ever since it came out, we’ve been trying to shake these guys.”

  “So you aren’t here working on a deal with Monroe Redson? And who is that with you Monroe?” The man turned his camera to the side and snapped a couple more shots.

  With the commotion, he’d missed it at first. Aria was trembling in his arms as she squeezed down tightly on his bicep. “Monroe I can’t; they can’t take pictures of me.”

  “What?” Libby asked, her eyes going wide as she stepped between the cameras and Aria. “Why not.”

  “I just can’t,” Aria stuttered, and Monroe hesitated, bouncing between wanting to pummel these camera guys or lift Aria up and carry her out of here.

  “James,” Libby said, snapping her fingers. “No pictures. She says no pictures.”

  James, with quick understanding, ushered the men away and began making demands of them.

  “Let’s go,” Monroe said, steadying Aria and getting ready to lead her away. “I didn’t expect any cameras.”

  Libby patted Aria’s shaking shoulder and leaned in close. “James will get the film and those photographs won’t go anywhere. I can promise you that.”

  “They’re not easily deterred,” Monroe groaned, knowing when something seemed disproportionally important to a rich man, it made these bloodsuckers more demanding. If James wanted the photographs, it meant there was a story. Leaving Aria in Libby’s care, Monroe clenched his jaw and made his way over to where James had wrangled the men. Giving it a second he listened to James’s case.

  “Because if you don’t I’ll make your life a living nightmare,” James boomed, but Monroe could already tell by the expression on their faces they weren’t planning on making this cheap or easy.

  “Don’t bother,” Monroe said, putting a hand on James’s shoulder. “These sharks smell blood and their tiny pea brains can’t process logic. You know who we are?” Monroe asked, and the three men grinned and nodded.

  “You should,” Monroe replied coolly. “It’s your job to know that. We have that in common. It’s obvious you know my specialty is finding things out. Exposing things. So when I look at your hand and see that tan line on your finger, I might assume while you’re traveling in paradise you don’t honor those wedding vows of yours.” The man in question quickly stuffed a hand in his pocket. “Or maybe you’re a stoner,” he said, gesturing at a second man. “And maybe when you get to the airport you find a large amount of drugs has miraculously been hidden in your bag. Good thing someone called in a tip to the authorities.”

  The wiry man with the thick glasses jutted out his chin. “You’re threatening us. We have every right to be here.”

  “I don’t care about your rights,” Monroe hissed out. “I don’t care about your wives. Or your life back home. When James says we’ll ruin you, he means in ways you can’t begin to imagine. Now let’s take care of this like civilized people.”

  Two of the men groaned and hummed as they turned their cameras over to James who began deleting the pictures. “All the ones we want gone are gone,” he assured Monroe. “I also took one out that was not particularly flattering of me.”

  “Hand it over,” Monroe demanded of the skinny weasel-faced man who was grinding his teeth together. Behind his thick glasses Monroe could tell his eyes were darting around nervously.

  “Just give it to him, Tom. It’s not even that big of a deal,” one of the other men encouraged.

  “Yes, Tom. Give me the camera,” Monroe ground out.

  “I’ve been dealing with bullies like you my whole life,” Tom huffed. “I’m entitled to these pictures, the camera is my property, and I don’t care what kind of threats you make, I’m publishing these. So if your little tart over there is married or whatever she
can take it up with her husband when these hit the papers.”

  He held his camera up tauntingly and Monroe chuckled. “You’re calling me the bully. You have a woman who doesn’t want her picture all over the place, and you tell her too damn bad. You don’t know the circumstances or the reason, and you don’t care. You’re the asshole in this.”

  Tom sneered and rolled his eyes. “Maybe I’ll be the rich asshole when I find out why it’s such a big deal, and I sell the pictures to the highest bidder.”

  “You could,” Monroe said, with a casual shrug. “It might be hard to count your money after I smash all your fingers.”

  “Threatening bodily harm, how predictable.” Tom backed up a step and obviously tried to look unafraid, but fear was written all over his face.

  Monroe laughed. “You know what? You’re right; that is predictable. And life is not like that. You never know what might happen from minute to minute.” In one rapid swipe of his hand Monroe snatched the camera from the man and launched it into the waterfall. In a cosmic boom, it hit the rocks and broke into a dozen pieces before sinking into the pool below.

  “You saw that,” Tom gasped, tapping the other photographers on their shoulders. “You saw what he just did. I’m going to make a police report and these two are going to be my witnesses.”

  “You should have just deleted the photos,” one man said, tugging Tom away as he continued to rant.

  “Have a nice night, guys,” Monroe called in a chipper tone as he waved sarcastically at them.

  “No one told me you were a loose cannon,” James commented, giving Monroe a sideways glance.

  “Only when I’m pushed,” Monroe admitted.

  “Or when the woman you love is in trouble?” James asked, cocking a brow up at him with a knowing smirk. “Trust me I’ve been there. It makes you do crazy things.”