Catching the Billionaire

by Elizabeth Blakely

  I shook my head. “He’s not like that.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she said, and I knew she meant it.

  I hoped I was right too. This caring and generous man had captured my heart, and even though I knew I wanted it to be real, I went to bed with an uneasy feeling in my stomach.

  I woke up the next morning, expecting to see a text message from Brandon. I knew he would be headed to practice, and he usually checked in before the day started. I frowned at my phone when I saw that there were no new messages, but I tried not to let it worry me.

  I didn’t hear anything from him until that night, and it was a short text message. I was tempted to call him, but I didn’t want to come across as clingy, or worse, desperate. Normally, I would’ve asked Brandon what to do in a situation like this, but…I couldn’t very well do that. Not when I needed advice for my relationship with him.

  The following week was a blur of activity as Brandon and the team practiced and prepared for the playoffs. He still called or texted me daily, but our conversations were brief. I wondered if he was avoiding me or just busy, though I could hear how tired he was over the phone.

  That weekend, I watched the playoff game at home with everyone. Uncle Steve and I were the only ones really invested in the outcome. Ellie, Mama, and Aunt Karen were more excited about the food. When the opposing team scored another touchdown at the end of the second quarter, I could see the defeat in Brandon’s shoulders. And I didn’t like the set of his mouth after they walked off the field for half-time.

  The rest of the game didn’t go any better, and the Eagles ended up losing. I kept watching, knowing there would be post-game interviews. Sometimes it was my favorite part of the game—seeing the candid responses of the coach and some of the players. It gave me insight on what it was like for Brandon, and I liked feeling somehow closer to him, even if we were hundreds of miles apart.

  Several of the players for the opposing team took their turn at the microphone before their coach stepped in. It was clear that he was proud of the win, even as he stressed the need to stay focused. When Brandon’s coach stepped up to the microphone, he was gracious in defeat. I understood why Brandon respected him so much.

  My heart leapt into my throat when Brandon was called to the podium. He was dressed in a suit and tie that looked like they were made for him. They probably were, I thought. His hair was still wet from his shower, though a line of stubble lined his jaw. I knew he had to be upset about losing the game, but the dark circles beneath his eyes concerned me.

  Questions were shouted at him as cameras flashed, and I wondered how he could even focus to answer. I definitely didn’t envy him in that moment. And even though he smiled at the camera, it was tight.

  “Brandon, what happened in the third quarter with that pass from Linde?” one reporter asked.

  “What about your knee? Is it acting up?”

  “Are the rumors of your retirement true?”

  The questions flew at him faster than the football had swirling across the field.

  Brandon opened his mouth to speak, and everyone in the room magically quieted. “I’m feeling great. Though I could do with a vacation,” he said, and everyone laughed. “You know, it was tough out there tonight. LA played a good game. And our best just wasn’t quite good enough.”

  “Where’s Staci? Why wasn’t she at the stadium for the game tonight?”

  “Did you break up?” another reporter asked.

  I stilled, my breath catching in my throat. Suddenly my face felt very warm as I waited for his answer.

  I didn’t like the tight smile he gave. “Staci is watching at home with her family. We spoke before the game, and she wished me luck.”

  I thought I knew this man inside and out, but as I watched him field questions, he seemed like more of a stranger than he had the night we’d met. I knew he was tired and disappointed, but he acted like I didn’t matter. Like what we had was unimportant or inconsequential.

  When they cut to a commercial, I excused myself to my room. I was embarrassed, and I knew I was likely overreacting. I reminded myself that he was under a lot of pressure. I told myself that the only reason we were dating was to further his career. My head knew all this, but my heart wouldn’t listen.

  I didn’t hear from Brandon until the following morning. I was in the middle of updating a database at work when my phone chimed. I sighed and reached for it.

  Brandon: Good morning.

  How the heck was I supposed to respond? It was a simple question, but it felt loaded. I decided that I needed to act like normal. He’d technically done nothing wrong, it was just me feeling insecure after the kiss. Besides, I could’ve just as easily texted him last night.

  Thinking about it now, I felt bad that I hadn’t. Brandon could’ve probably used the support, especially in light of the pressure he felt over his uncertain future with the team. I frowned. I was acting selfish and childish.

  Me: Good morning. How are you feeling?

  Brandon: I’ve been better. Did you watch the game?

  Me: Of course. You played well.

  Three dots danced on the screen then disappeared. They reappeared and then a message came through.

  Brandon: Will you be home tonight?

  When I saw his message, my smile was so huge my cheeks pinched.

  Me: Yes.

  Brandon: Perfect. I’m sending over a stylist to show you some options for the Eagles’ end-of-season party this weekend.

  Oh. My face fell. I’d thought he wanted to see me, but instead he was sending over a stylist. It was a powerful reminder of my role in his life and the fact that to him, this relationship was all about appearances.

  A tear trickled down my cheek as my fingers hovered over the keyboard.

  Me: Great.

  I’d done such a good job of fooling the world into thinking we were in love, that I’d actually started to believe it myself. And if I’d thought I was acting before, it was nothing compared to the show I was going to have to put on at the end-of-season party. Because I was going to have to act normal around Brandon even when my heart was breaking.

  Aunt Karen’s curved staircase certainly provided the perfect backdrop for a grand entrance. The material of my designer dress swept against the floor as I carefully navigated the stairs in my heels. Mama, Ellie, Aunt Karen, and Amy were watching, but I kept my eyes on Brandon, eager to see his reaction.

  With every step I descended, his jaw inched closer to the floor. It wasn’t until I’d reached the bottom of the stairs that he seemed to recover himself. Though he stood transfixed—as if rooted to the spot with his gaze focused intently on me. What was he thinking?

  He stepped forward, surprising me by placing a kiss on my cheek. “You look beautiful.”

  I dipped my head, my eyes stinging from his compliment. I wouldn’t cry. Not tonight. This was his night, and it might be one of my last chances to spend time with him before we “broke up.”

  “You look very handsome,” I finally said, gathering the courage to speak.

  Handsome seemed such an inadequate word to describe his appearance. He was so handsome, it sucked the air from my lungs and made it difficult to breathe. The way the material was tailored to his frame highlighted his assets. His hair was styled in a messy way that looked like he’d been running his fingers through it, and his gray eyes were dark as they zeroed in on mine. He was glamorous, and I was completely under his spell.

  “Can I take a picture of you two, on the stairs?” Mama asked.

  “Mama.” I glared at her, trying to ignore the way Amy was covering her mouth to hide her laughter.

  “It’s okay,” Brandon smiled, ever gracious. “Take as many photos as you’d like, Mrs. Wildwood.”

  He extended his arm, escorting me up the stairs so that we could stand together as Mama snapped photo after photo. My back was warm where his hand rested, my skin tingling beneath his touch. Again, my mind drifted to thoughts of kissing him, but then chided myself. He cl
early thought kissing me was a mistake.

  “Have fun,” Ellie said, when Mama finally finished.

  I gave her a bright smile, but it couldn’t hide my nerves. This event was a big deal for Brandon, and there would be a lot of publicity, a lot of attention focused on him, on us. I felt an enormous pressure to be the perfect girlfriend. Well, fake girlfriend.

  “I’ll send you some of the pictures,” Mama said to Brandon as she led us to the door. Her smile was so genuine, I couldn’t help but soften. I was just so relieved to see her happy.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I’d like that.”

  He opened the door for me, to reveal a black limousine parked on the circular drive. I didn’t know why I was surprised. Everything about the evening so far had been magical. Brandon had sent over a professional makeup artist, a stylist, and a hair dresser. And I felt like a princess. I only hoped I could live up to that ideal.

  “We’re riding in a limo?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Why not?” He glanced back and forth between me and the car.

  I’d never been in a limo, but for Brandon it was probably a regular occurrence. It reminded me, yet again, just how different our lives were. I might be living at my aunt and uncle’s golf course home in a gated community, but it was only temporary. Like everything in my life, it was an illusion. One day, I’d return to a normal house, and I’d date a normal guy—like Will.

  But I was no longer interested in dating Will. He was a nice guy, and a talented musician. On paper, he was everything I’d thought I wanted. But…there was no spark. He didn’t ask me about my day like Brandon did. His eyes didn’t light up when I walked in a room.

  “I’ve just never been in one, that’s all,” I said, allowing him to open the door for me.

  I’d been looking forward to some alone time with him, so I was dismayed to discover that the limo was already occupied. I recognized Tristan and another player named, Nash. I waved and smiled at them and their dates, trying not to let my disappointment show.

  Once we were settled inside, I couldn’t stop looking around. There were so many windows. And the leather seats were like butter. Plus, there were lights along the floor and a mini bar. It was crazy.

  When I glanced back at Brandon, I found him watching me with a bemused smile.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “Nothing.” He shook his head, but then he leaned in, close enough for me to smell his cologne and feel the warmth of his skin. “I enjoy watching your delight when you discover something new or exciting. That’s all.” He smiled my favorite smile, the one he reserved just for me.

  That’s all? He said it so simply, yet his confession meant so much to me. Comments like that gave me hope that my feelings weren’t one-sided. He clearly had no idea that my feelings were real for him. Or—and this was an even more heartbreaking prospect—he did, but he didn’t feel the same way.

  As Brandon had once told me, if a guy wanted me, he would make his interest clear. So, I had to hope and wait that he would make his interest clear. But first, I had to make it through this evening.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Brandon

  “Brandon,” Arthur said, clapping his hand on my back.

  I tried not to jerk away at his touch, but I’d lost respect for him in recent months. He was an astute businessman, but he had no idea how to manage people. “And who might this be?” he asked, as if he didn’t already know.

  He scanned Staci’s body from head to toe, lingering on her curves longer than I would’ve liked. I kept my hand light on her lower back, even as I ground my teeth.

  “Arthur, this is my girlfriend, Staci.” I turned and smiled down at her, genuinely proud to call her my girlfriend, even if it was a fake relationship.

  I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed this—having someone I could count on. I loved ending the day, hearing her voice on the phone. I fell asleep and woke up thinking about her. She was always on my mind, and I couldn’t wait to spend more time with her now that the season was over.

  That idea gave me pause. I never looked forward to the off-season. Typically, I craved the training, the meetings, the travel that kept me busy non-stop during the season. It was good. It didn’t give me time to think, to dwell on the past. But now…now I wanted that free time. I wanted to spend every moment I could with her.

  And not just because she was good for my image, but because she was good for my soul. For her, it might be pretend. But for me—it was very real. The trouble was, I had no idea how to tell her, or if I even should. And with the discussion over my contract renewal finally moving ahead, I didn’t want to rock the boat.

  “Staci,” I said, “This is Arthur Fleming. He’s the owner of the Eagles.”

  She smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fleming.”

  Her took her hand in his, and my skin crawled at the way he appraised her. He was looking at her as if she were an object to be owned, not the strong, independent woman she was. For a man who claimed to value family values, he certainly wasn’t exhibiting what I’d call model behavior.

  “My dear,” he said, raising her knuckles to his lips. “Please call me Arthur.”

  She smiled, but I knew her well enough to know it was forced. “Well, Arthur, thank you for inviting me to your wonderful party. It’s so nice to celebrate the achievements of Brandon and the team.”

  I was impressed. Staci didn’t cower before him; she played his game and returned his attention to me. Maybe she was more of a games player than I realized.

  He inclined his head, and I breathed a sigh of relief when he finally released her hand. “Thank you. And, might I say, you make a beautiful couple.”

  I softened a bit at his compliment, though Staci seemed tense. She’d been acting weird since we’d kissed on New Year’s Eve, different. I worried that she regretted it, that I’d pushed her too far. I wanted to ask her about it, but I wanted to ask her to date me—for real—more.

  But not yet. First, I need to finalize my contract. And then I needed to finish organizing a surprise I hoped would show her just how serious I was about her and her goals.

  Someone tapped Arthur on the shoulder, and he excused himself. I was grateful for the reprieve, and I could tell Staci was too.

  “Are you okay?” I asked in a low voice as I steered Staci toward a quiet alcove.

  She smiled. “Of course. I’m more concerned about you.”

  I frowned. “Me? Why?”

  “I thought you were going to punch Arthur.”

  “It was tempting,” I said. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

  She jerked her head back. “And what way was that?”

  I leaned down, placing my lips beside her ear. I heard her quick intake of breath, and I couldn’t get enough of her sweet scent. “He was coveting what was mine.”

  She turned to face me, putting her mouth just inches from mine. “Am I though?”

  I was so tempted to put it all on the line, to finally tell her how I truly felt. To tell her that I loved her. I opened my mouth to speak, but then someone tapped against their glass with a fork. And it completely shattered the moment.

  I held her gaze a moment longer before she glanced away. “Staci,” I said, keeping my voice low.

  But she wouldn’t meet my gaze again. She shook her head as she kept her attention focused on the podium. I told myself it was a good thing we were interrupted. I told myself that I needed to stick to my plan. But I worried if I didn’t tell her how I felt—and soon—I’d miss my opportunity for good.

  “This is harder than it looks,” Staci said, tossing the football back across the grass to me.

  It was one of those weird February days in Texas when it felt like we were on the cusp of spring. The warmer temperatures wouldn’t last. Come tomorrow, we could have an ice storm—that was how mercurial Texas weather could be. Still, you had to enjoy it while it lasted—much like my relationship with Staci.

  After the end-of-season pa
rty, she’d returned to her usually cheery self, even if she did seem busier than usual. Still, I sensed there was something she wasn’t telling me. So, I’d convinced her to join me in the park so we could be seen in public together. It was all a ruse to spend time with her, and I couldn’t wait to tell her about the surprise I’d planned.

  I grinned at her, holding my hand up to shield my eyes from the sun. Her cheeks were pink, and her smile was wide. She might not have the best aim, but she sure looked cute trying to throw a football.

  “You’re doing great.” I tossed the ball back to her.

  We tossed the football back and forth a while longer before taking a seat on the grass for a picnic. The park was crowded, but not overly so. And though a few people had stopped to ask for a photograph or picture, they mostly left us alone. It had been a surprisingly pleasant afternoon, and I hoped it was about to get even better.

  “I have a surprise for you,” I said to Staci once we’d finished eating. “Well, two actually.”

  “Okay. Are they good surprises or a bad ones?” Staci asked, her eyes narrowed on me.

  “Good. I hope.” I leaned back on my hands trying to strike a casual pose despite the nerves plaguing me. “First, the team renewed my contract. We’re supposed to meet later this week to finalize the details and sign the paperwork.”

  “That’s great, Brandon.” She smiled though I saw an emotion flash through her eyes I couldn’t place. “I guess you got everything you wanted.”

  Not everything, I thought. But hopefully I’d get the rest of what I wanted soon.

  “Second surprise…” I hesitated, my mouth suddenly dry. “I shared your music with a friend of mine, and he wants to meet you. He’s coming to town next week for a concert, and he gave us backstage passes.”