by Holly Rayner
Accidental Billionaire Daddy
Holly Rayner
Contents
Accidental Billionaire Daddy
1. Ben
2. Maia
3. Ben
4. Maia
5. Maia
6. Maia
7. Ben
8. Maia
9. Maia
10. Maia
11. Ben
12. Maia
13. Ben
14. Maia
15. Maia
16. Ben
17. Maia
18. Ben
19. Ben
20. Maia
Epilogue
The Baby Pact
1. Rhea
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Also by Holly Rayner
Accidental Billionaire Daddy
Copyright 2020 by Holly Rayner
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.
All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Ben
Benjamin Briars sucked air deep into his lungs as he pressed the accelerate button on his sleek new treadmill. He pumped his arms, forced his legs to move faster, and stared with determination at the muted television, which displayed the Thursday morning news.
A robotic voice informed him that his sprint was complete, and the machine automatically slowed down. Ben’s lungs burned as he reached for his water bottle. He knew he had to recover quickly so he’d be ready for his next sprint.
Before he could take a sip, he heard a sound.
“Benny?”
The voice calling his name was distant and muffled, and though he knew exactly who it belonged to, it still caught him off guard.
There was only one person in the world who called him Benny, and that was his younger brother, Nate.
“Benny, man, you here?” Nate’s voice sounded closer now.
The treadmill, which Ben had programmed for intermittent sprints, emitted an automated female voice. “Prepare for sixty-second sprint. Countdown begins. Five, four…”
This time, Ben didn’t hit the accelerate button. Instead, he hit a red down arrow, and the moving belt beneath his sneakers slowed. “Nate? I’m in the gym.”
Ben reached for a towel and wiped his brow, cursing to himself as he looked at the machine’s display. In another fifteen minutes, he’d have completed his workout. He glanced at the digital clock display and saw that it was only 5:40 in the morning. What in the world was Nate doing in his home at this hour?
Concerned, he stepped off of the still-moving belt and landed lightly on the polished wood floor of his private gym. At forty, he was in the best shape of his life, and he intended to keep it that way. Rows of free weights attested to his commitment to fitness.
Nate, younger by five years, had none of his older brother’s grit when it came to intense workouts. Nate had always preferred to be comfortable rather than push his own limits, and this showed in his physique.
Ben eyed his brother, who showed up in the doorway looking somewhat disheveled. Nate had put on weight since his wife Phoebe died a year before. He had also grown a beard, which Ben had trouble getting used to. Nate always used to be clean-shaven.
“Did I interrupt your run?” Nate asked, as he pushed up his horn-rimmed glasses. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his army-green jacket and looked nervously around the gym. Instead of waiting for an answer, he rushed on. “Sorry, man. I know how you are about your morning workouts. I should have waited until six. You can finish up. I’ll just—”
“Nate, it’s cool.” Ben laid his sweat towel over his shoulder and reached for his water bottle. “What’s up?” he asked. “You let yourself in?”
“Yeah, with the spare key you gave me. It’s crazy early… You should see it out there. The sun isn’t even up yet. But I knew you’d be awake. I don’t know how you do it, man. Every day like this, whew.” He shook his head.
Ben wished his brother would get to the point. There was obviously some reason Nate was here in his Tribeca townhome before sunrise.
“Is everything okay, Nate?” Ben asked gently. Ever since Phoebe had passed away, his brother had been struggling.
“Yeah, yeah… I mean, no.” Nate shook his head. “No, not really. I hate to ask you this, I really do. But I have no other options.”
Ben lowered the water bottle from his lips and prepared himself for whatever his brother might ask. Was it going to be about a loan?
He knew that his younger brother struggled in many ways, but he didn’t think finances was one of them. Before Phoebe passed, Nate had run a successful event planning business. Ben was sure his brother had saved up plenty: enough, at least, to get him through this rough patch.
Nate hesitated.
Ben tried to wait him out, but after another minute of silence, he spoke. “Nate, is this about money? I know you haven’t been working lately, but I thought you had enough saved.”
Nate shook his head. “Yeah, yeah, money’s good,” he said nervously. “I have a nest egg I’m working with.”
“Then what?” Ben prompted.
“It’s… a favor,” Nate said reluctantly. “You know how I’ve been talking about that rehab facility upstate? The one that some of my celebrity clients have gone to?”
“Sure,” Ben said. He knew exactly what Nate was talking about.
Nate’s problem with painkillers had started after Phoebe’s passing. In recent months, Nate had struggled to the point where the occasional pill-popping now classified as an addiction. Ben knew that his brother wanted desperately to get clean, and the rehab facility he’d discovered, through his celebrity clients, promised to help him do just that.
Ben went on. “The one that’s booked up until next year—right? I told you, man, you need to find a program with more availability. You can’t wait a year for—”
Nate cut in. “I won’t have to wait,” he said, his voice louder with excitement. For the first time that morning, he looked Ben in the eye. “They have an opening for me. This could really happen, Benny. Like, soon. I can’t believe it—I mean, this is my shot. The place has an incredible reputation. I feel like they could really help me. Shoot—I know they could.”
Ben grinned. He liked hearing the hope in this brother’s voice. He reached out and clapped Nate on the shoulder. “That’s great!” he said.
Nate nodded. There was a spark in his dark eyes as he mirrored his brother’s grin. “Yeah, it really is. Remember how I helped Greg McFlint out with his fiftieth birthday party in that downtown loft, two summers back?”
“That was one of the best parties I’ve been to in my life,” Ben said, thinking back to the big-name actor’s fiftieth birthday bash. Many New-York-based celebrities attended, and even a few from the West Coast flew out for the occasion. “You crushed it.”
“Thanks, I did,” Nate admitted. “And Greg never forgot it. He kept saying how he wanted to pay me back for giving him the best night of his life. Well, I got a call from him yesterday. He heard through a friend about my… problem.”
Though Nate had been struggling with pain pills for almost a year, he almost never named his addiction outright. Instead he called it an “issue” or “problem.” Ben chalked this up to his brother’s distaste for discomfort.
He sometime
s wished that Nate could call things as they were. Ben appreciated blunt, direct communication. He always had, and it had served him well.
“And?” Ben said.
“You know how word can get around like that. People gossip. Anyway, Greg said he pulled a few strings and can get me into the facility for a two-week stint. I’ll be a new man when I come out of there. I’ll be able to put all of this behind me—for good.”
“That’s great, Nate,” Ben said sincerely. “Really. I know that’s what you want. I know you want to be a good father for Colby. Your kid needs you. So this is good news.”
Nate looked to the floor and shuffled his sneakers. His hopeful demeanor was gone, replaced once again with nervousness.
Ben spoke up again. “It’s good news, right, Nate? I don’t get it… Why do you look upset about it? I know how badly you want to get clean, and that rehab place is the best of the best. So I’m not understanding what the problem is... or why you’re here at—” He lifted his writs to look at his watch, “ten till six in the morning.”
At the sight of the time, Ben felt a jolt of urgency. In ten minutes, he needed to be in the shower, getting cleaned up for his day at work. He owned a successful company, PubLive, and liked to lead by example. That meant showing up at his desk promptly at seven a.m., five days a week. His brother had only ten minutes to make his point. In true Nate fashion, however, he was beating around the bush.
Nate seemed to pick up on his older brother’s urgency. “Okay. Let me get right to it. I’m here because the stay that Greg set up for me is only available if I get to Beckwood, New York, today. Otherwise, I’m out of luck. And that’s where you come in. Bro, I need someone to watch Colby for the next two weeks.”
Ben didn’t understand what his brother was asking him. “So why are you here?” he asked. “Obviously you need someone to watch Colby, but—”
His eyes widened as he put the pieces together. “Wait—you want Colby to stay here, with me? For two weeks?” He was shaking his head before Nate could even answer. “No. Sorry, but that’s not going to work.” He moved toward the gym’s doorway.
Nate followed behind him. “Ben, I know this is last minute, and I know how busy you are, but—”
“And you know I’m not a parent,” Ben supplied. “My life isn’t set up for taking care of kids. Where would he sleep? What would he do? I work all day, and—”
“You’re great with him,” Nate interjected frantically.
Ben picked up his pace, and so did Nate, behind him. Their footsteps echoed off of the walls and ceiling above.
As they entered the expansive kitchen, Ben turned to his brother. “Sure, I’m good with Colby for a few hours at a time when we all hang out, but that’s for short periods, and you’re always on hand when he needs you. I’d have no idea how to take care of a three-year-old for two weeks.”
“Come on, it’s easy,” Nate said. “He’s a great kid, and he goes to daycare until three every day.”
“And I work until seven or eight each night,” Ben said. “And what about weekends?”
Nate didn’t answer Ben directly. Instead he said, “Look, I tried everyone else I could think of. I asked other parents from the daycare, and some of Phoebe’s old friends, but it’s too late. Everyone said no. You’re my last hope. If I don’t hit the road for Beckwood within the hour, I’m out of luck, like I said. Please.”
Ben felt his resolve fading. He knew his brother needed help. And Nate was right; the rehab facility did have a good reputation.
Ben could hardly believe what he was about to agree to as he met Nate’s eyes and opened his mouth to speak. “Two weeks?” he said.
Nate nodded. “Fourteen days. That’s it. Well, plus a couple days. I’ll be back two Sundays from now. It’ll go by fast. Colby will entertain himself. All you have to do is keep him safe. It’s easy.”
Ben doubted that it would be as easy as Nate was promising, but he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll do it.”
Nate stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Ben.
Ben stiffened. He’d never liked hugging.
When the embrace was over, Nate grinned and backed up. “Thanks, man. I owe you, big time. Really. Anything. I dropped a duffel bag off in your entryway with everything he’ll need.”
He reached the kitchen’s exit and backed up further into the hallway. “Shoot. You know what? I think I forgot his Pete the Penguin toothbrush, and he might freak out a little bit about that. Kid is way too attached to that toothbrush. But I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Oh, and, do you have ketchup?”
“Ketchup?” Ben said. He shook his head. “No… Why would I—”
“Maybe pick some up today,” Nate suggested. “It’s this thing he’s going through. He likes ketchup on everything. Okay, I gotta run. Thank you so much, Benny! I owe you. Pickup time at the Sunny Side Daycare is at three o’clock.”
With that, Nate disappeared down the hallway. A minute later, Ben heard the front door click closed.
The townhouse was once again silent.
Ketchup… on everything? Ben thought, as he started climbing the stairs to the third story of his home. His mind was spinning with the abrupt change to his perfectly planned week.
Though Ben didn’t have children or a wife, his day was filled from the minute he woke up to the minute he went to sleep. Each minute was accounted for, whether that was with work, social engagements, travel, or grueling workouts.
To make matters worse, his already full schedule was even tighter this week due to the launch of a new interface for the most popular social media site that PubLive ran. He’d been preparing for the launch for months, but he knew that despite meticulous planning, some sort of glitch was bound to occur. That was just the way things went in the publishing world.
His mind searched for a way to work Colby’s care into his schedule. It felt like an impossible task.
But if there was one thing Ben had learned by building a multi-million-dollar company from the ground up, it was that “impossible” was not a helpful word. He mentally replaced it by thinking: It’s going to be a challenge, but I’ll manage.
He slipped his shoes off when he reached his master bedroom, then walked toward the bathroom. With a twist of the chrome dial, he started the shower so that the water could warm. One step at a time, he thought, as he removed his socks and then his shorts. I have to fit in picking Colby up at daycare at three. That’s the first step.
He lifted his wrist, this time not to check the hour, but instead, to deliver a text message. By pressing a button on the side of the two-thousand-dollar watch, he activated voice-recognition software. “Text Maia,” he said.
Maia, his assistant, managed his daily calendar. Because of this, he texted her many times a day, always by speaking into his watch.
Beep. The tone alerted him that he was now composing his message.
“Maia, could you please make an addition to my schedule for the day? I need to be at the Sunny Side Daycare at three p.m. Rearrange my meetings accordingly. Thank you.”
He lowered his wrist, satisfied that his assistant would take care of it.
With that done, he pulled his T-shirt up over his head and tossed it in the direction of a hamper in his walk-in closet. The bathroom was filled with steam, and he enjoyed the feeling of it on his muscles, which still burned from his run.
He knew the hot water would do even more to soothe his post-workout soreness, and he stepped into the shower when it was just right.
I have no idea how the next two weeks will go, he thought, as the hot water poured over his body, but I’ll get through it. I just have to figure out how.
Chapter 2
Maia
Ding!
Maia’s phone alerted her to a new text message just as she pulled her apartment door open and stepped outside into the hallway.
“Come on, honey,” she called through the door. “We have to hurry so we’re not late.”
Though it was only a few
minutes after six, Maia was wide awake. She’d gotten used to rising long before the sun came up so that she could get herself and her daughter out the door by six or shortly after.
“Mommy, phone?” Joy said, as she tottered out of the door while pulling the straps of her pink backpack over her shoulder. She looked concerned as she pointed to Maia’s faded brown purse.
“I know, sweetie. I heard it too,” Maia said, as she locked up her apartment. “It was just a text message.” She checked her phone quickly and noted a new message from Benjamin Briars in her message inbox. “Yep, from my boss,” Maia said. “I’ll read it later. Right now we have to hurry, hurry, hurry.”
“Okay, Mommy,” Joy said with a serious nod. She broke away from her mother and started off in a shuffling run, her backpack bouncing up and down with each step. “I’m running!” she announced. When she reached the end of the hall, she pushed the elevator button triumphantly. “Mommy, better hurry,” she called out.
Maia walked quickly. Her phone rang, and this time when she checked, she saw the words “Lilian Davis Daycare” flash across the screen. She picked up.
The elevator arrived, and Joy watched the doors yawn open. Then she glanced at her mother.
Maia nodded and stepped inside. She kept a foot across the threshold in an attempt to keep cell service. She knew from experience that once the elevator doors closed, the service was disrupted.
“This is Maia Cormack,” she said into the phone.
“Hi Maia, this is Samira Sherman at Lilian Davis. I’m calling to inform you that school is canceled for the day. We’ve had a chickenpox outbreak. We’re expecting to open again tomorrow morning, once we’ve disinfected. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”