The Billionaire's Duty: Secret Billionaire’s Club

by Tracey Pedersen

  “You shouldn’t take it personally. It’s business.”

  “I’ve been emailing Daniel ever since our meeting on Wednesday. I also called him twice. His secretary says he is on holiday and can’t be contacted.” He turns back to me. “Daniel has never been out of contact in all the years I’ve known him.”

  I snort and raise my eyebrows. “Coincidence that your accountant is missing in action? I think not. Daniel Farraday is in Greece, that much I can confirm. Whether it is a holiday or a permanent move, we’ve yet to confirm.”

  “Greece? She told me he was in New Zealand.”

  “Well, she lied. Or she is misinformed.”

  He shakes his head and swears under his breath. “Goddamn it.”

  “Yep. That’s pretty much what I said when my boss didn’t stop Mr. Farraday from leaving the country.”

  CROSS

  I’m feeling all kinds of friendly toward Jessa after spending the day with her. Having her along could have gone badly—I don’t know her and there was every chance she’d sigh the morning away and insist we leave early. Instead, she made herself at home, making friends with adults and children alike.

  I can’t wait until she walks past a mirror and discovers what those kids did to her hair.

  “So, dinner?”

  “You’re always hungry.”

  “Yes, I am. Thanks for noticing. Now, where shall we eat?”

  “Room service?” My tone is hopeful. For some reason I’m exhausted.

  She shakes her head. “No way. Let’s find somewhere local. Something cheaper than last night.” She grins. “My treat.”

  “I don’t need you to treat me. I can imagine the tax commissioner’s face when he sees our meal on your expense claim.” We both laugh, the idea ludicrous to us both. “I’ll pay, but I’ll still let you take me somewhere cheap.”

  “Deal. Let me change into a clean shirt and I’ll be ready to go.”

  “You don’t need more time?”

  She frowns. “Are you taking me somewhere good? Are we going clubbing?”

  “No.” I laugh. “Why would we go clubbing?”

  “No reason to get dressed up then. Back in a minute.”

  She disappears into her room and I take a moment to check my email. As always there’s a flood of business correspondence, but nothing that can’t wait until we return. Even if I wanted to go clubbing, I don’t have time this week. Next week is a different story, though. Wyatt and I had planned a whole week in Vegas. Now I’ll be going alone, and I’m still bummed about it. When I’m on my own I find it hard to resist working. I’d been counting on Wyatt to help me unwind.

  I send him a text telling him for the fifth time how much I hate him. It’s not until I’ve pressed send that I consider the time difference. My phone chimes immediately with an incoming Skype call and I choose the video option.

  “Hey, lonely loser.” Wyatt’s voice is loud. “Missing me, huh?”

  “I am. I still can’t believe you cancelled on me at the last minute.”

  “Duty calls, my friend. How’d the visit go? Was it today?”

  “It was good. Lovely people. We stayed all day.”

  “We?”

  “I.”

  “You said we.”

  “I did. I meant I.” I don’t feel like explaining.

  I pace around the room and he complains, “Dude, you’re making me sea sick. Stand in one place. Is that a fish tank behind you?”

  I look over my shoulder. “Yeah. Everyone is interested in the fish.”

  “I’m interested in your new pink jacket.”

  “My what?” Wyatt is shaking his head and pointing at me. “I don’t have a pink jacket.”

  “Then I guess the one hanging behind you explains how we,” he makes quote marks with one hand, bending his fingers in an exaggerated manner, “stayed all day.”

  I glance behind me and sure enough, Jessa has her jacket hanging on the coat hook by the door.

  Damn.

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “I bet it is. I just can’t work out why you’re keeping it a secret. It’s your weekend isn’t it?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I think this counts.”

  “No.” My voice is firm as he continues making faces at me. “It doesn’t.”

  “Did you say something to me, Cross?” Of course, Jessa chooses this moment to exit her room and stand right behind me. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realise you were on a call.” She moves to the kitchen, but the damage is done.

  Wyatt lets out a low whistle and I stare at him, my eyes widening, trying to telegraph that he should shut up. “We.” He emphasises the word again. “Look like we’re on our way out.”

  I open my mouth to argue but a female voice comes through the phone and it’s Wyatt’s turn to get flustered. I let out a laugh and shake my head. “You dirty bastard. Here you are teasing me and, forgive me if I’m wrong, you cancelled our holiday because you have your own thing going on.”

  “I want to say I do not, but I’m not brave enough to withstand the punch to the back of my head.”

  He laughs as the voice off-screen says, “Lucky, Wyatt.”

  I lean my face close to the phone. “We’ll talk about this when I get home, mate.” Wyatt laughs again and I disconnect the call.

  “You got stood up for a woman?” Jessa is waiting in the kitchen.

  “Looks like it. Shall we go? Did you decide where?”

  “Yes. Let’s go to Hollywood. I want to visit the stores with all the kinky boots.”

  Chapter Eleven - Cross/JESSA

  CROSS

  The dedication of the memorial is a sombre affair.

  Most of the assembled guests are dressed in black, including Jessa who is behaving like the dutiful assistant she’s pretending to be. I’m not sure why she decided to come today—it’s not like I’m going to do secret business deals behind the beautiful structure that rises up against the sky. She could have easily waited at the hotel for me to be finished.

  Once glance at her tells me everything she’s thinking, though.

  She’s doing the cataloguing thing again. Trying to commit faces to memory, so she can research them later. I pointed out my business associates and promised to give her their names and now she’s turned her attention to anyone else that may be of note.

  The speeches are long. At one point, when name after name of the fallen are read out, she closes her eyes and stands tall, taking in more than the assembled guests. I can’t help but watch her. When it’s my turn to take the podium, she’s ushered to stand behind me. At first, she shakes her head, but then she goes along with the request so as not to delay proceedings.

  My speech is emotional for me even though I’ve read it over a hundred times.

  I tell the story of my grandfather and how he travelled so far from home for a cause he believed in. How he met others like him, who had come from other nations to do their part. I spoke of the ones he’d left behind, and the friendships he’d taken home with him, in a time of hand-written letters that took months to arrive. The sacrifice that every person who goes to war makes. I even shared a little of yesterday’s visit, and the bond I’d formed with people who were strangers until they opened their front door and invited me into their family, and into their hearts.

  The day is overcast, and it matches the mood. Cameras click, and a couple of times I’m almost distracted by a flash. People murmur in agreement to certain words I speak, and then before I know it, it’s over and I’m being asked to pull a cord on a plaque hidden behind a little blue curtain.

  When that’s done, there are more photographs, before the monument is officially opened to the public and the crowd are invited to walk through. I stand back and watch them surge forward, Jessa at my side. I’m so proud that so many people came today. That this place will become a quiet space to reflect. Even a tourist attraction, where generations of people will learn about events I hope we never see repeated.

  What st
arted as a business deal, and a chance to honour my grandfather, has dumped an unexpected amount of emotion on me. With a quiet sniff, I reach out and clasp Jessa’s hand.

  JESSA

  “We’ll have to get you a little bulldog hatpin to wear on your lapel.”

  I laugh and take another sip of my water. Cross makes me laugh when I really don’t want to.

  “If you find one, I’ll wear it, even if it’s inside my jacket.”

  “Oh, I’ll find one.”

  He picks up his menu and reclines in his seat. The tie that was so immaculate when he gave his speech is now pulled loose and to the side. The emotion that overcame him as he clasped my hand seems to have been tucked away, no doubt for him to reflect on when he’s alone. He only held onto me for a minute or two, but I can’t stop thinking about the moment his warm skin came into contact with mine.

  I should be concentrating on everything but that moment.

  I’m working, even though I have to keep reminding myself of that. Earlier today I considered getting my own hotel room, but this is what I wanted isn’t it? Full access to him. To know where he is every minute of the day so he can’t slip away to the Seychelles and never be heard from again. Second guessing my decision won’t get me any closer to my goal.

  The choices on the menu sound spectacular and the dishes I’ve seen passing us on the way to other tables make my mouth water. I need to document what I order so I can share it with my mum when I get home. I pull my phone out of my handbag intent on taking a photo of my meal, then drop it onto the table. The screen lights up, showing I have a message, as I return my handbag to the floor.

  The words jumble before my eyes and don’t make immediate sense. I startle and then the blood slowly drains from my face as I read. My cheeks tingle and turn cold as I let out the tiniest of squeaks.

  Cross looks up from his menu. “You okay? You look pale.”

  “Uhh.” Words won’t form on my lips. I gulp and push my chair back. In a whisper I ask, “Can you excuse me for a minute?”

  “Sure.” Cross watches me stumble away and I can only hope he’s returned to scanning the menu. The tears start before I get to the bathroom and the last thing I want is for him to see me cry.

  When I’m safely locked inside a cubicle, I bring up the text again. Right there in big black letters is the end of my career.

  Chapter Twelve - Jessa/Cross

  Jessa

  “Wait, you paid for your own ticket?”

  “I did.” I’m back at the table and I’m gulping water as though we’re seated in the desert. The wine is calling my name but the last good idea I’ll have today will be to drain the bottle while I’m in this frazzled state. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t disappear.”

  “So, you appointed yourself my official stalker. On your own time?”

  My smile is weak. “It doesn’t sound so great when you say it like that.” He doesn’t seem angry, just thoughtful, so I press on. “If I’d been right about you, they’d be promoting me right now, not letting me go via text. It was a calculated risk.”

  His face wrinkles and he squints at me. “You were that convinced I was up to no good?”

  “Of course. Why else would I follow you here?”

  “For my good looks, obviously.”

  My water sprays across the table and I giggle as I wipe my mouth with my hand. “Oh God, stop it. This is not funny.”

  “It’s funny.” He takes my glass and hands me a tissue. “Here. You can stop with all the water and have a real drink. Unemployed people deserve to drown their sorrows.” He pours the wine and I stare at it, trying to decide if I’m going to kick up my heels, or wallow in self-pity. “Why did they fire you, anyway? What’s the official reason?”

  I pull my phone out and read from the screen. “Insubordination. Is that even a thing?” I look at the screen again and reach for my glass. “Misconduct and failure to follow specific direction.”

  Cross frowns. “Where did they think you were this week? Didn’t they notice you didn’t come to work?”

  “I applied for leave. Told my boss I would go to Fiji, or somewhere similar to clear my head. I even bragged about the tan I’d come home with.”

  “You laid it on thick.”

  “I did.” I turn my phone to show him the photograph. “Someone sent them this.”

  “Wow. Now you know how I felt when you laid that photograph from the fundraiser on the table.” He sounds smug, but his face tells me he’s full of sympathy. “How did they get that when it’s only a few hours old?”

  I stare at the photograph of me standing behind Cross as he gave his speech today. I’m looking up at him, my stance prim with my hands tucked together. From the angle this was taken, it seems like I’m standing to the left of his shoulder, close enough to touch him and offer support. In actual fact I was twenty feet away, on a lower level than his podium.

  “No idea. Maybe it’s on the web.” I make a face at him and take a long sip of wine. It glides down my throat, reminding me that I’ve had nothing but water since I landed in the States. That was when I was working, though. I’m now officially on holiday. I take another sip and raise my glass. “I guess you can revoke my computer access before I even get it.” Our glasses clink together and Cross laughs as I say, “They can get themselves another spy.”

  CROSS

  The clink of our glasses still rings in the air when I float my brilliant idea. “It’s time to make another deal.”

  “Nope. You don’t need to give me anything else. I’m done, and I’ll be out of your hair in the morning. If they don’t care what you’re up to, why should I?”

  She’s full of bravado, but those blue eyes give her away. They’re full of pain, and the bitter kick of defeat. Jessa Collins doesn’t like to fail.

  I don’t like to hear she’ll be leaving in the morning.

  “You can’t help but care, but you were on the wrong track this time. What’s your actual qualification?”

  “Forensic accounting is where my interest lies. I have a degree in accounting and I’m a CPA. There’s nothing I enjoy more than digging through data,” she says, her voice lilting before she puts down her glass. “That makes me sound fun, huh?”

  “Super fun.” I put my glass down, too, and lean forward. “So, hear me out. Having you harass me has made me wonder if I need someone to take a look at our operations. If Daniel has done a runner, maybe we’re a little close to that flame. If there’s something to be found, I’d prefer to find it before the tax office does.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it, Cross.” I’ve noticed she blushes a little every time she uses my first name. It’s kind of adorable. “No one on the team was as interested in Farraday’s other clients as me. They’ll probably close your case before they’ve even printed my last pay slip. Hell, Phil has already thrown all my files into a box, if I know anything about him.”

  “Even so. I’d like to employ you to go over our records. If you don’t find anything untoward maybe you could make recommendations where we can tighten things up.”

  Her mouth drops open as she stares. “You’re serious.”

  “Very. I can offer you a contract for a set period of time.”

  She’s watching me across the table, not giving anything away. Finally, she says, “You’re making me feel like you did have something to hide and this is a distraction.”

  “Not at all. It’s a genuine job offer.”

  “If I accept it will seem like what I’ve been accused of is true.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I can’t. Sorry.”

  “What if Wyatt’s company employs you? Would that sit better?”

  “No!” She’s annoyed now. Her eyes widen and she sucks in her bottom lip. “Are you insane,” she hisses across the table. “I don’t need you to find me a job.”

  “Fine. Will you use the login and have a look tomorrow, though?”

  She shakes her head and blows out a breath, her eyes rolling around and
around. “What do you think I’m going to find in one day? Do you know how long audits can take?”

  “Too long in my experience.”

  Jessa snorts and takes the opportunity to change the subject. “Would you mind if we go back and get room service, after all? I’m amazed to say it, but I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “Let me give you something else to think about. I’m going to Vegas tomorrow. I’d like you to come with me.”

  “What?” She screws up her face and rubs her ear. “What are you talking about?”

  “I have a huge suite reserved, since Wyatt and I were supposed to go together. It seems a shame to have it all to myself for a whole week. If you’re not in a hurry to go home, you could share it with me.”

  The temperature at our table rises several degrees and we both feel it. Jessa narrows her eyes, at the same time licking her lips. My first instinct is to keep speaking—to convince her beyond a doubt that this is a good idea. The flash in her eyes keeps me silent, though, as I watch her turn the idea over in her mind.

  Eventually, she asks, “Why are you trying to get me into more trouble than I’m already in?”

  “I’m not. Why do you think that?”

  “Regardless of your good intentions, this will only look bad for me.”

  “I thought you didn’t care?”

  “I care about my next job.” She holds her hand up when I open my mouth. “My next real job, not one that’s gifted to me for whatever devious reasons you have.”

  I shrug, reverting to disinterest when things don’t go my way. “Whatever. The choice is yours. Either way I’m going tomorrow. I thought I’d offer.” I stand up and push my seat back. “Shall we go back?”

  “Yes. Can we take a peek at the souvenir shop on the way back since I’m an actual tourist now?”

  “Sure. I still have to find you that bulldog pin.”