Daisy's Secret Billionaire

by Francesca Lane

  “Can’t believe this pizza place is still around.” Jake dug into a slice of the pie. He looked thoughtful a moment. “On second thought, I can. LA pizza can’t compete.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “I would not lie to you. I have had pizza at just about every joint in the greater Los Angeles area and nothing tastes as good as”—he looked at the box lid—“Matty’s Pizza.”

  “That’s a lot of pizza.”

  He swallowed a bite and grinned. “It is.”

  She could do this if she really tried, talk to Jake Morelli over a pizza as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She picked up her wineglass. “Are you one of those bachelors who eats out every night?”

  He pointed his slice of pizza at her. “Affirmative.”

  She gave him a surprised laugh, the feel of it liberating. “I was only kidding, but okay. Must be expensive to eat out all the time, especially in LA.”

  He shrugged. “I’m hardly ever home. I work long nights in my office and spend the bulk of time out in the field. Last thing I want to do when I get home is cook.”

  Daisy nodded, finishing up her first slice.

  “Have another.” Jake slid a piece onto her plate.

  Her mind flashed on the short girl in the one-piece swimsuit who often felt chubby.

  Jake’s brows rose. “You okay?”

  Daisy shook away the memory. She’d have to run the food off tomorrow, but isn’t that why she had taken up the sport in the first place? To leave her past body image behind? She snapped a look at him. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  Jake poured himself more wine and added to her glass, watching her. “How about you? You spend a lot of time in the kitchen?”

  She stared at him.

  “What?” He laughed, though it sounded guarded. “Did that sound like some kind of anti-feminist remark or something?”

  Daisy pushed her plate away from her. “I didn’t say that.”

  He had stopped eating and was watching her now, a confused look on his face. “What is it you’re not saying?”

  Daisy slid off the counter stool, her appetite gone. It took too much effort to stay thin and curvy just to throw it away on pizza and the fake affections of her childhood crush. She put a hand on the counter. “Thank you for dinner, Jake. I think I’ll go on to my—to Grace’s room now.”

  “So that’s it?”

  Daisy narrowed her eyes at him. Was he expecting something more from this arrangement? Her lungs constricted. When she was young she dreamed that Jake would pay attention to her, but she knew better now. She’d learned to protect herself and her heart from men like Jake, and she wasn’t about to reverse herself now.

  She began to walk toward the hall. “I appreciate the food and the safe place to land. Good night.”

  Jake watched her with a wariness in his gaze, his eyes scrutinizing.

  Daisy tried to ignore the suspicious expression he wore, but it dug at her. She stopped. “Why that look?”

  “What look?”

  “Like I’m … I’m stupid or something. Am I not allowed my feelings?”

  He scoffed. “You can feel or think anything you’d like. I don’t know what you think you saw, but I did not have that … that look you were describing on my face.”

  She flashed him a placating smile. “Whatever you say.”

  His forehead furrowed. “Daisy, you’re acting rather paranoid.”

  “Oh really? Rather paranoid?”

  He dumped a half-eaten piece of pizza into the box and shut the lid, shaking his head the entire time. “I realize that you’ve had a bad day, but not everyone is out to get you.”

  She rolled her eyes. Hard. “Oh please. Don’t pretend to understand how I feel, okay, Jacob?”

  He scowled. “It’s Jake.”

  Daisy snickered. She remembered a lot about Jake—more than he probably thought possible—and one thing that lodged in her mind was how his father would call him Jacob whenever he was annoyed with him. Which, from what she recalled, was quite often. She also remembered how much Jake seemed to really, really hate it.

  Jake grabbed a towel from the counter, wadded it up, and tossed it into the sink. He snagged her with a look. “It’s going to be a long month.”

  Daisy stared back at him. “I’ll say.”

  Silence shot between them.

  Jake groaned. “Speaking of long month, I’m tearing out the kitchen tomorrow. I know that’s going to make things even tighter around here.”

  “I’ll be up and out of here early tomorrow, so no worries about me.”

  Jake came around to the front of the island and leaned back against it. He crossed his arms and exhaled. “I’m sorry about what you are going through, especially in regard to the house. For some reason, you and I are, uh, not connecting all that well. Are we?”

  “No.” She looked down. “Not very well at all.” Daisy’s mind tumbled backwards. Jake used to play catch on the beach with whatever was around—balls, sticks, discs, and even seaweed bladders. He and the other guys would hurl themselves through the air to catch a hard pass, often landing hard enough to cause the packed sand beneath her to rumble.

  When the sun finally sank into the ocean and the glow of it had passed, they’d all disburse to their family homes. No one ever seemed to notice that she was still out there, beneath the big wide sky. Eventually, she’d pick up her things and wander home, hoping that the following day Jake would finally notice her.

  She looked back up only to find Jake considering her. Part of her wondered what was going on in that sexy head of his.

  The other part of her felt, well, quite stuck here in this house with him. True, she was grateful for a comfortable place to stay, for the Morelli sisters’ generosity. But she no longer cared whether Jake noticed her or not. Her childhood crush was just that, and she had no intention of indulging in that fantasy ever again.

  “Good night, Jake,” she finally said. Daisy had learned to guard her heart, unlike when she was young and her dopey-eyed crush had torn her up inside. As she made her way back to the girls’ old bedroom, she reminded herself that she would never, ever allow Jake to mess with her head again.

  Three

  Early the next morning, Daisy met her friend, Rafael, outside of her mother’s home. On the pro side, she’d been an early riser for years. On the con side, she had not yet had coffee. She tried not to think too hard about that.

  Rafael smiled kindly at her, his sea-gray eyes beautifully startling against golden brown skin. They’d known each other since elementary school—even though he was older—and whenever she was in town, they’d grab a beer or something. That’s why it had been so easy to throw on a dress and accompany him to his cousin’s wedding the other day. He towered over her, no surprise there, and appeared eager to get started on the projects.

  “I received some bad news yesterday.” She held up the red tag so he could see. “The inspector had told me there shouldn’t be any problems, but this appeared and now all my plans are messed up.”

  He gave her a regretful look. “Ah, you will need to go to the planning department today.”

  “Unfortunately, yes. But I have the restoration company coming this morning to pick up a ton of items so they can get the smoke out of them. Will you help me bring things down from upstairs so I can go through them out here in the light?”

  Rafael slid a look at the house, no doubt wondering what an inspector might say if they were to be found moving around inside.

  Daisy touched his arm. “It will go much faster if we work together.”

  He nodded. “Yes, of course. Lead the way.”

  For the next hour and a half, she and Rafael carried boxes of clothing, purses, rugs, draperies, and other items down the stairs to the back porch. Even though she opened the westerly windows each day, the inside of the house still smelled like an ashtray—as did her own clothes and skin. By ten a.m., she already felt the need for a second shower and she was beginning to wonder how she had b
een able to sleep in this house prior to moving in with Jake.

  Rafael set two full boxes onto the porch. He raked a hand through his full black hair, allowing extra-long snippets to fall in front of his chiseled face. She’d noticed more than one woman sneaking peeks of him while they were dancing at the wedding.

  Daisy handed him a bottle of water.

  “Thanks.” He guzzled the water, then capped the bottle again. “Serge has a carpet cleaning business now. I could call him to get some of that smokiness out of the house.”

  Serge was Rafael’s older brother, who she didn’t know all that well. “Really? Oh, that would be so, so great. Do you think he could come at the end of the week, after I’ve had a chance to figure things out with the city?”

  Rafael nodded, his eyes darkening. “Of course. I will talk to him.”

  “Thanks so much. I guess we’re all done here for now. I’ll wait for the restoration truck and then see what I need to do about that stinkin’ red tag.”

  He hopped off the porch and waved to her as Jake emerged from the house next door looking like he had a scowl permanently affixed to his face. He crossed the divide between the properties, looped his muscular arms over the deck railing, and hoisted himself to stand on the protruding deck boards. He was covered in dust.

  “Hey,” she said, barely looking at him.

  “I see you’ve been busy.”

  “Same with you.”

  “True.” He smacked the dust from his hands. “Been over to the planning department yet?”

  “Nope.”

  “Hm. Want me to go with you?”

  She eyed him. Why was he being nice to her? Daisy shook her head and sent a puff of breath into the air. “The more I think about it, the more it’s got to be some kind of misunderstanding. The house is smoky and all, but it’s solid. The fire only scorched the back wall. It didn’t penetrate the house at all. Electrical is fine, plumbing is intact.” She shrugged. “I’m not too worried about it.”

  “I haven’t wanted to pry—”

  She shot him a look. “Then don’t.”

  Jake pulled himself up and over the railing, landing with a thud, boots first on the deck. “Been thinking about your predicament and I think you should let your homeowners insurance handle the dealings with the city.”

  She kept her eyes on the boxes on her deck. “Is that so?”

  “They have the staff in place that knows the right things to say and when to say them. It’s commonplace.”

  Daisy licked her lips. She moved two of her mother’s leather purses from one box to the other and fought off a sneeze before saying, “It’s under control, Jake.”

  He peered at her. “What insurance company are you working with on this?”

  She wasn’t a particularly angry person, but Jake’s constant questions had managed to rake her ire. He didn’t need to know the issues she had with insurance—or lack thereof. Daisy lifted her chin and glared at him. She would have liked nothing better than to have help in this situation, a sibling, a friend … someone. But not Jake. The minute she bared her soul to him, she feared he would shrug it off like simple small talk.

  “Doesn’t matter anyway,” she said. “I think I know who might be behind the problem with the city. A realtor has been calling my mother and she even tried to give me her card the other day. If she’s behind this, I’m going to find out.”

  He frowned. “Lillian Madsen?”

  She twisted a haughty gaze at him. “Friend of yours?”

  “Hardly.” He paused, then shrugged. “She’s a pain in the butt, but I seriously doubt she has that kind of pull with Colibri. Not a good idea to give her that kind of power.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not the one giving her power, but if I were not to recognize her sneaky ways, she would be able to get away with all kinds of stuff. And I’m not going to let that happen.”

  Jake stared at her in that unnerving way of his, like she was cute but dumb.

  She shoved one of the boxes with her toe, inching it toward the steps. “Knock that off. I’m not paranoid, in case you were thinking of bringing up that accusation again.”

  “I’m sorry I said that last night. Wasn’t cool. But”—he quirked his head, his smile grim—“not everyone is out to get you.”

  She shook her head. “Typical.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Jake Morelli!”

  He gave her a surprised laugh. “What?”

  Daisy faced him now, her hand cupping her waist. “Okay, fine. We’re going to go there.”

  “Um …”

  “Don’t you remember that time you told me my sandcastle was dumb? When I was a kid?”

  Slowly, his smile dimmed. “Daisy, what are you talking about? I don’t remember that at all.”

  For some reason, his not remembering little things like that stung as much as when he’d hurt her feelings way back then. “My parents had been arguing so I slipped out of the house with a whole box of rakes and buckets. I spent all morning building the biggest, rambling compound on the beach out of sand.”

  “Wow.”

  “You just sniffed at it. Said, ‘That’s no castle. Where’s the turret? And the ramparts?’” She shook her head, remembering. “I proudly told you that it was a ranch-style house with a barn. I even showed you all the little animals I made to graze around it.”

  He took a step closer to her, the familiar scent of him way too powerful. His voice was low. “What did I say?”

  She stepped back and looked up at him. “You said, ‘A sand ranch house? That’s dumb.’”

  He winced. “Really?”

  She nodded once, feeling kind of silly all of a sudden. “Yes. You did.”

  “Well,” he said, his voice still low, still too lethal. “I don’t remember that.”

  Daisy didn’t answer him. She was too old to hold grudges from childhood. She knew this. But for some reason, seeing him again, in the midst of her tattered life, brought up old hurts. And though she knew she should be beyond this—far beyond this—Daisy found herself sinking into old disappointments.

  He touched her shoulder, sending a shiver through her body. Even her toes curled. “Like I said, I don’t remember that. But … it sounds like something I would have said.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Daisy.”

  Daisy was silent for a long, long while. Maybe it was time to end this one-sided war. He probably didn’t even remember the rest of their story, as she often thought of it. “Jake, we were kids.” She licked her lips and forced herself to look up at him, the sun beginning to blur her vision. “I’m ready to move on and forget about it.”

  “It was still mean of me.”

  She laughed for the first time all morning. “Sure was. You jerk.”

  Jake rolled over in his sheets, his legs entangled, the blare of his alarm shocking him into wakefulness. He punched his phone’s alarm and stuffed a pillow under his neck. Daisy’s face flashed into view, followed by the mug of that pretty-boy handyman she’d hired. He groaned.

  What did it matter anyway?

  Jake rubbed his eyes. His phone had been buzzing all night, but his mind had been elsewhere. Well, that had to stop. Immediately. The fortune he had built could very well disappear if he allowed himself to be derailed by … a woman. Already this creaky old house had taken up far too much of his time, pulling him away from the pressing reality of litigious people.

  With a groan, Jake hurled himself out of bed. He padded downstairs and into the kitchen—or what was left of it. Yesterday when he pulled out just about everything attached to the walls, he’d had the presence of mind to leave the coffee pot plugged in and sitting on top of a remnant of a cabinet.

  He started up the pot and turned to his computer, still open on the kitchen island. Thirty-eight unopened emails—more than half, it seemed, regarding the legal issue that threatened to undo all that he had built. He blew out a long, hard breath. The need for coffee had dulled.

  His phone buzzed.
His assistant, Maisie, was on the line.

  “Good morning, Jake!” she said.

  “What’s up?”

  “What? No pleasantries?”

  Silence.

  She laughed lightly. “Fine! I get it—you’re in vacation mode, but this is important, boss.”

  “Lay it on me.”

  He heard the sharp suck of air. “Really great news. I think.” She squealed a little.

  Jake felt the bunching of his forehead. “Are you going to share it with me or just hyperventilate?”

  Another squeal, followed by sucking of air. “Okay. El Amor hotel chain wants to talk to you. Wait. Oh oh oh! It’s more than that—I have it on good authority that they love your ideas for their property. Get it? Love … amor? Anyway, my friend Emi’s sister’s roommate works as their executive assistant’s assistant, and she said the owner was raving about your design, Jake. Is this the best news you’ve heard all day or what?”

  He let her words sink in. They were a lifeline of sorts, pulling him from the mire of quicksand he’d found himself in lately. He combed a hand through his bedhead mop. If this were true, he would have something to think about other than the false accusations and governmental jostling he’d lately been buried under.

  Not to mention the money that this project would guarantee. Not that he was hurting in that department. At least, not at the moment.

  Minutes later, with a second mug of hot coffee in his hand, he stood at the picture window overlooking the sea. The ocean was swathed in pink from the eastern sky. Had he ever noticed this as a kid? His memories had more to do with joining his buddies out on the sand for a pick-up game of … whatever.

  Jake frowned. Daisy had a distinct memory of him. Eventually, he remembered the incident she recounted. Sort of. And another one niggled at him, too, though it wasn’t as clear. For the past couple of days, life had lurched in a very different direction from when he’d arrived. He now found himself in the precarious place of sharing a home with a woman, a gorgeous woman, who appeared to, well, hate him.