Jane Harvey-Berrick Saving The Billionaire

by Harvey-Berrick, Jane

  “All the locks and access codes have been reprogrammed using Howard’s new algorithm; we’ve completed a search of the house, garage and staff areas of Wolf Point; I personally checked Ms. Alvarez’s apartment and CCTV of the surrounding streets. We’ve found nothing, sir. No sign of the stalker. I also spoke to Ms. Alvarez’s grandfather and apprised him of the situation. He’s promised to be vigilant.” Although I’m not sure what help an octogenarian could be. “No one will be getting in here or at Ms. Alvarez’s apartment unless someone lets them in.”

  He nods, looking distracted.

  “I’ve retained Banner’s services 24/7 on a week-by-week basis with Evans, and Reynolds on-call via Mason.”

  “Has Mrs. Smith returned from her sister’s?”

  “Yes, sir, but she’s out at the moment. Banner’s checking the other residents’ vehicles in the street. Sir, it’s definitely a weak spot.”

  I shrug. And unless you bubble wrap your girl, that’s as good as it gets.

  He runs his hands through his hair and I know he’s still worried. Yup, join the club.

  “Thank you, Trainer.”

  And he walks out.

  What? Is that it? No rampant jealousy? No yelling until my ears melt? The boss is getting soft.

  I kinda miss the old days.

  I go back to studying the surveillance cameras. Banner is using the under-vehicle search mirror. I’m not saying the stalker is capable of planting a car bomb, but I’m not taking the chance either.

  But this frustrating day just gets very fucking perfect, and here’s why…

  I was still checking surveillance footage when Rachel got back from grocery shopping.

  “Justin, haven’t you eaten yet?”

  “No, baby. Thought I’d wait for you. And I’ve been going over the CCTV tapes with Lance.”

  “Well, you should both eat. Where is he?”

  “Finishing up in the garage. He’ll be here soon.”

  “I take it Mr. Anderson and Ms. Alvarez are back. How did she enjoy the party?”

  “Yeah, she looked amazing.”

  “Oh, did she?”

  And there it was: a note of jealousy.

  I have never, ever given Rachel the slightest reason to feel jealous. I haven’t hidden anything from her: she knows I went kind of crazy when Carla and I first separated. Got drunk a lot. Slept with a lot of women—some of them I didn’t even know their names. I didn’t want to pretend with her. But she also knows I haven’t looked at another woman since I met her.

  “You like Maria, don’t you?” she says, quietly. “Well, I’m not surprised. She’s very pretty and sweet … and young...”

  But I couldn’t listen to anymore.

  “Rachel, don’t. Yes, I like Maria. But not that way. I think of her in the same way I think of Lilly. I just want her to be safe, and I want the boss to not fuck it up with her. But you’re my woman, babe. Hell, I’d make you Mrs. Trainer in a shot or faster. You know that. There’s no one else I want, Rachel. I love you, for fuck’s sake.”

  Yeah, I know. I’m smooth.

  “I … I’ll think about it, Justin.”

  I wondered if I needed wax clearing from my ears because I thought she just said…

  “You will?”

  She laughs.

  “Yes, just thinking though, okay?”

  “Very okay, baby.”

  JUST AS THE evening seems to descend into a pleasant and unusual tranquility, I see the shark-eyed king incubus drive into the garage.

  Banner gives me the heads up.

  “T, a Mr. Landon wants to see Mr. Anderson. He doesn’t have an appointment.”

  I can hear the snake’s voice in the background and he’s pissed that his fingerprint access has been removed.

  I’d love to tell him to crawl back to his cave and boil up some more bats’ eyes, but that’s the boss’s call.

  “I’ll key him in, Lance. Send him up.”

  The boss is really not going to like this.

  He’s got his arms wrapped around Ms. Alvarez and they look happy.

  I feel like such a fucking creep. I clear my throat, and the boss’s head snaps up. Now he looks pissed. Great, shoot the messenger. But hell, I’d look pissed if I got interrupted like that. It’s the price he pays for being rich, for needing someone like me.

  “Yes?”

  “Mr. Landon is on his way up, sir.”

  “What?”

  All I can do is shrug. Your shit, boss. Over to you.

  “Well, this should be entertaining,” he mutters.

  Ms. Alvarez looks really pissed. The boss is right: it’s going to be a real showstopper.

  I wait at the elevator as the doors open with a soft hiss.

  “Good evening, Trainer.”

  “This way, Mr. Landon.”

  “Always so formal, Trainer.”

  Yeah, because I’d rather French kiss a bullfrog than spend time with you, cunt.

  “I’m sure Devon feels reassured having you here to reprogram his access codes. Is there anything else you can do?”

  I don’t reply to his needling, but I really enjoy, really fucking enjoy seeing the shock on the reptile’s face when he sees Ms. Alvarez staring back at him defiantly.

  That’s my girl!

  I leave them to it, because no matter how much I care for her, I’m not her father. But if I was, I’d be fucking proud of her.

  The Landon bastard stays for less than ten minutes before I have the extreme pleasure of escorting him out. Via the elevator. Although, kicking his skinny carcass off the balcony would be more rewarding. He’s probably going home to stir his cauldron and stare in his magic mirror. I hope the fucker cracks.

  Landon is furious and doesn’t care that he’s sharing that carefully guarded information with me.

  “He’s making a serious mistake choosing that little whore over me!”

  I don’t respond but enjoy slamming the door on his bony ass.

  When the boss walks into his office, he looks tired and pissed. And yet, he just doesn’t get that the Landon troll preys on his negative feelings. He always looks irritated when he’s seen him. For a smart guy, he can be pretty fucking dumb.

  But I’ve seen a change in him. Whether he knows it or not, he has less patience for Landon. And the Beast senses it, which is why he’s clinging on with every shiny talon he has. I wish Mason had found more evidence on him, one way or another. But I can’t wait any longer.

  “Sir…”

  “What is it?”

  “There’s something I need to talk to you about, sir.”

  He looks like he wants to say no, but he sighs and waits.

  “Well?”

  “Mr. Landon’s business is partially financed by Consolidated Iron. Do I need to worry about industrial espionage?”

  I’ve blindsided him. Emotions shimmer across his face: shock, rage, disbelief, until he locks them down and his poker face is welded into place.

  “How do you know this?”

  “A source, sir.”

  “Who is this source?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say, sir.”

  I’m waiting for the whole ‘I sign your checks so I own your ass’ speech. I’ve heard it from employers when they don’t get their own way.

  But Anderson only looks frustrated.

  “How good is your source?”

  “The best, sir.”

  “I see.”

  “I know that you’re in talks with the Taiwanese, sir. Do I need to worry about Mr. Landon?”

  I can tell that he wants to say no, but he doesn’t.

  “I’ll look into it.”

  That’s all he says, but it’s enough.

  As the boss turns to his laptop, I decide I’ve stared at as many monitors as I can stand. I pull my tie free and go find Rachel.

  “Has that person gone?” she asks tightly.

  “Yeah, got back on his broomstick and disappeared in a cloud of sulfur.”

  Her whole b
ody relaxes and she smiles.

  “Coq au vin?”

  Fuck, I love it when she talks French.

  AT SOME POINT in the night, I feel Rachel moving restlessly next to me. She turns over and sees that I’m watching her.

  “It’s that man. He always upsets everyone when he comes here.”

  I pull her into my arms and kiss her hair.

  “Don’t worry about it, baby. I don’t think it’ll be for much longer.”

  She turns and stares up at me, her fingers tracing over the scruff on my cheek.

  “What makes you say that?”

  I can’t tell her about the intel Mason gave me, but I don’t need to.

  “Because sooner or later the boss will have to choose: Landon or Maria. And he’ll choose Maria.”

  “I hope you’re right, Justin. I really do.”

  I’m not worried because I know that deep down the boss has already chosen. He just doesn’t know it yet. I’ve chosen Rachel, and I really fucking hope she knows it.

  THE NEXT DAY, I hear the boss tell Maria that Lucifer is “in the past”. I feel like fucking cheering, but that would be unprofessional. And really uncool. And Banner would have a coronary.

  I drop off the happy couple at DMA Tower, then do all the usual checks and read Mason’s overnight intel report.

  You think being a billionaire is all peaches and cream and fundraisers? The population of the US is 320 million. We’ve got 540 billionaires. I worked out the math once: that’s one billionaire for every 592,000 of us drones. That’s a lot of people to envy or hate on you.

  Yeah, you’d better watch your back.

  Or pay a guy like me to watch it for you.

  There are hearts breaking wide open all over DMA Tower as the word spreads that the boss is officially off the market since he was seen arriving hand in hand with Ms. Alvarez this morning. A lot of the women—and a few of the men—are devastated to hear that he has a real-life girlfriend. And not just an imaginary friend named Harvey.

  Pam told me that we’d need a grief counselor. I think she was joking, but I’m not sure. Tessa hasn’t been seen since the word went out. ‘Allergies’ is the official reason.

  At 6PM, I’m outside with the Rover. Banner has already left to collect some clean clothes from his own apartment and check his mail. He’ll be living at Wolf Point for the next few weeks with me and Rachel, and Evans, occasionally. I’ve already warned him off Rachel, in a completely professional way. “Put an eyeball out of place and I’ll fucking use it for a pool ball.” You know, a reasonable, measured approach like the professional I am.

  The boss is grinning like a fool. And so is Ms. Alvarez. Damn, it’s good to see. Makes me want to do my happy dance—which looks a lot like me standing still. But it’s the thought that counts.

  Maybe there is hope yet for the twisted bastard.

  Funny word ‘hope’. It’s so small and insignificant-looking, but it’s not. Hope keeps a man alive. And I’m speaking from experience.

  Chapter 21

  Indecent Proposal

  “HEY, BABE.”

  I’m so happy to see Rachel after another long-ass day.

  “Well, that’s quite a welcome,” she smiles as I finally let her go, her cheeks pink.

  I head for the refrigerator and hunt down a beer. I’m definitely feeling like self-medicating after the day I’ve had. The blackmailer posted another video which Howard managed to erase after three views, and it’s wearing me down. I don’t know what to do to keep my client safe. That’s really hard to admit—hard to admit that I’ve failed.

  “Bad day?” she asks gently.

  Another one.

  I blow out a long breath.

  “The blackmailer struck again; Ms. Alvarez has a stalker that I can’t find; I don’t trust that Landon is out of the picture. I can’t do this. I can’t keep him or Maria safe. I can’t keep you safe. I’m going to resign. I’ll tell Anderson in the morning.”

  Her beautiful face crumples.

  “Justin, no!”

  “I have to, baby. I took my eye off the ball. You could have been hurt.” Or worse. “I’m supposed to be fucking security. How secure have you been? How secure has Anderson been? I fucked up. I just want to know … will you come with me? Fuck, I hate to ask, baby, but you’re my life. I can’t live without you.”

  “Oh, Justin! Please don’t do this to yourself! You’re a good man, a strong man, and Mr. Anderson will never find anyone as loyal as you. But you’re human. You’re not a damn machine and you’re only one man. You simply can’t be everywhere twenty-four hours a day. You did everything you could. Mr. Anderson knows that and I know that. You can’t leave now—he needs you. More than ever. I need you.”

  I shake my head. Her words are meant to soothe me, but she doesn’t understand. I don’t fuck up.

  “I have to, Rachel. I’m too close. I don’t know, maybe I need a fucking change away from all this craziness.”

  She holds her hand to my cheek and my head sinks into her warm, soft neck.

  “Justin Triton Trainer! Don’t you dare give up on me now!”

  And she slaps me on the chest—hard.

  Fuck! That hurt!

  I step back and rub my eyes tiredly.

  “I’m not giving up on you, babe. You’re the one good thing I’ve got going for me. But I can’t do this anymore.”

  I wave my hand around, indicating the house, Anderson, all of this.

  “You’re not a quitter.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Rachel! You’re not hearing me! I can’t fucking do this anymore!”

  “Stop being such a drama queen!”

  Did she just call me…?

  “What?”

  “Justin, during the time you’ve worked for Mr. Anderson, has one word leaked out about his unusual lifestyle to the Press? Don’t bother to reply, because we both know the answer is ‘no’. A large part of that is thanks to you and Howard. Mr. Anderson chose his lifestyle, which is extremely risky given his public presence and standing in the business world. You have moved heaven and earth to protect him. But it was Mr. Anderson who brought Aston Van Sant into his life and into his home; it was Mr. Anderson who wished to keep security unobtrusive; and throughout all this, throughout what you call this ‘craziness’, the one constant that he has had, the one constant that he has relied on, is you. You, Justin. Not me, not his therapist, not his family, and certainly not that Landon person—it’s been you. If you leave now, you’ll be letting him down and you’ll be letting yourself down.”

  “Rachel…”

  “For goodness sake shut up and listen to me for once, you wonderful, annoying, irritating, stupid, stupid man!”

  Oh, fucking ouch!

  “I’m stupid twice over?”

  “That’s a conservative estimate. Look, I’m sure if you talk it over with Mr. Anderson he’ll be appalled at the idea of you leaving. He’ll never agree to it.”

  “He’ll have no fucking choice!”

  “Oh, honestly! You’re not perfect, you never were.”

  “Rachel…”

  “And if you agree to wait and talk to Mr. Anderson … then I’ll agree to marry you.”

  Wow, that was weird. I could have sworn she just said she’d marry me. Have I got earwax? It’s like hearing bad vocabulary that’s as bad as, like, whatever.

  “Wait, what did you just say?”

  “I love you, Justin, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  I stare at her, utterly mute. Yeah, I know. I fell out of the stupid tree and hit every branch on the way down. Then I climbed back up and did it again—just to be thorough.

  Please, please let me have heard right. God, I love this woman so much. I want her badly: today, tomorrow, forever.

  “Why now?” I stammer out the question, but I need to know. “I’ve asked you a thousand times to marry me and you’ve always said no.”

  She smiles at me softly, her deep blue eyes glowing with love.

 
; “Tonight you needed me to say yes. Why, are you having second thoughts?”

  “Fuck no!”

  “You’re so eloquent, Justin.”

  “Yeah, I know, baby.”

  And then I kiss her. I’m not completely stupid.

  Her lips are warm and soft. She’s like a freakin’ drug to me. However much she gives me, I want more. Just as I feel that my swollen, happy heart will burst through my ribcage, she pulls back, breathless, and rests her head on my chest.

  “I’ll do anything, anything to make you happy, baby.”

  “I know that, Justin. That’s why I said yes. Right now I want you go and check on Maria and Mr. Anderson.”

  “Okay, I’ll … What? You want me to … what? I’m not going out there! It’s like asking me to go see what that lil bitty bit of smoke on Mount Vesuvius is all about! The boss will be in hyperdrive by now. No fucking way!”

  “Justin! The very first thing I ask you to do…”

  Ah, hell. I know where that sentence is going. It’s my own fucking fault for loving a clever woman.

  “Fine. Fine! I’ll go look. But if I come back with my ass kicked through my front teeth, you’re paying for the dentist.”

  “Mr. Anderson covers our dental, so you have nothing to worry about. Now go see if they’re okay.”

  I slouch towards the main room, my brain still on fire with the knowledge that Rachel has finally, finally accepted my proposal, that one day soon, she’ll really be mine.

  And then I hear yelling.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Devon!”

  Ms. Alvarez is screaming at the boss. I think he likes it because he’s not screaming back. Weird.

  “Why don’t you understand that?”

  Well, they haven’t killed each other, they haven’t hit each other—not even in a freaky, kinky way. They don’t need me so I’ll just skulk back into the shadows.

  “There is one thing you could do for me,” he whispers.

  The dance of the seven veils in a leather thong? Chinese water torture on an intimate part of his body?

  “What?” she snarls at him.

  She’s going to regret asking that.

  “Be my wife.”

  WHAT

  THE