A Billionaire for Lexi: Holiday Novella

by Ruth Cardello

  Long awkward pause. “No, that was nice.”

  Nice. Hmm.

  She continued, “I should have said that I would love anything you gave me. And that’s what I meant to say. I was just trying to be funny, and if it came out sounding ungrateful, I’m sorry.”

  This was an interesting side of Lexi. He had no idea that she worried so much about how others felt. “I probably would have bought you a diamond bracelet, but Dax and I decided what I gave you was a better choice.”

  “What exactly did you give me? I opened it, but as far as I can see it’s simply a spreadsheet of companies and emails. Did you accidentally upload the wrong file?”

  Now we see if the time I put in was worth it. “No, that’s the right file. I spent the last couple weeks calling people and asking them if they have a job for you. I wasn’t sure if you actually loved HR or if you would choose something else if you had the chance, so start by picking the company you’d like to work for, then contact them with a description of what you’d like to do. They’ll either give you a job they have or create one for you.”

  Lexi gasped. “You called everyone on this list? There’s over a hundred companies.”

  “Then you should definitely be able to find a job you like.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Thank you?”

  She sniffed. “This is beyond nice. This is . . .”

  Don’t let her say “too much.”

  “. . . phenomenal,” she finished softly. “I could cry.”

  A feeling spread through him that was a million times better than any chemical high he’d ever had. Was this what Dax had referred to? “Don’t cry. Find something you want to do. I hear life is a lot more enjoyable when you have a project you’re passionate about.”

  “Do you have one?” Her tone was hopeful, and he was glad his answer was now a yes.

  “I’ve recently become involved in a couple of charities. It can be difficult to choose one when there so many in need. Sophie’s New Year’s fundraiser sounds like my next big investment. I’d like to surprise her with something for it, but I’m still working out the details. With only a week left, I could use your help to plan it.”

  There was a long pause during which he held his breath.

  Finally, she said, “I’d love to.”

  “Great. I’ll pick you up in the morning, and we’ll go to the Barrington’s together.”

  “I’d rather meet you there.”

  Hmm.

  “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

  “Yes.” There was another pause before she said, “Clay, thank you for calling around for me. No one has ever done anything like that for me, and I don’t know what to say, except that I’m grateful.”

  Deciding to lighten the mood, he purred, “Grateful or grateful?”

  She laughed, “Good night, Clay.”

  “Good night, Lexi.”

  Later that night, Clay lay back in bed with his hands tucked beneath his head and tried to go to sleep. It’ll never happen. He was anxiously awaiting Christmas morning.

  And he was smiling.

  Across town, Lexi lay in her own bed staring up at the ceiling with the flash drive Clay had given her still clutched in her hand. Whether it was the holiday season or being close to so many couples who were gushing love for each other, Lexi was sliding dangerously close to wanting to believe in love again.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in any kind of love.

  She and Willa had a sister bond that nothing could ever break.

  Although not related by blood, she saw her relationship with Kenzi the same way.

  The last few weeks had proven to Lexi that Sophie and Dale saw her as more than simply Kenzi’s friend. They accepted her as she was and that was more than Lexi had ever hoped for.

  But Clay—

  He was a whole other level. The problem with letting herself believe that his feelings for her might be real was that then she had to ask herself how she felt about him. Not just how flirting with him made her feel, but what she thought of him as a man.

  He certainly wasn’t humble by nature, but he had little reason to be. Very few people were born into his level of wealth. If life was fair, it would have compensated that good fortune by making him hideously ugly. Instead he had the classic, handsome features of the English with a height that hinted at a splash of Norwegian genes. He always dressed in a casual, but professional, style that could easy grace the cover of a men’s magazine.

  It wasn’t that Lexi didn’t think she could attract such a man, that part had never been the issue. It was everything that came after the initial chase that was a disappointment. Men didn’t make an effort to know her, they wanted her on a basal level that didn’t require a working knowledge of her favorite books or childhood memories. Repeated similar experiences had jaded Lexi toward men. Definitely toward men like Clay.

  She held the flash drive above her face and studied it. The Clay I know wouldn’t spend weeks compiling a list of places he’d contacted for me. So, either there is another side to him—or he really, really wants to sleep with me.

  The latter was depressing but easier to believe.

  Lexi rolled onto her side and tucked the flash drive beneath her pillow. The digital clock beside her bed displayed the switch to Christmas Day with the same lack of fanfare Lexi associated with the holiday. She thought back to the confusing mix of emotions that had filled her each year during her childhood. The years that her aunt and uncle had picked them up from the boarding school had been awkward and stilted. The years after had been better, but still had lacked the magic people associated with the holiday. As a child as well as an adult she’d always found Christmas to be a sham, all build up but just another day in the end.

  She rolled onto her back and slammed a fist onto the bed beside her. If she was this wide awake during any other time of year she would have flipped on the television, but her mood wouldn’t be improved by the onslaught of holiday specials. They didn’t represent any version of Christmas she’d ever known.

  Men like Clay weren’t looking for more than sex and the only magic Christmas held was its ability to make everyone spend more money than they should. And I’ll prove it.

  She picked up her phone from the table beside her bed and dialed his number. He won’t even answer. He’s probably with someone else.

  “Lexi, is everything okay?” he asked in a voice deep from sleep.

  “I—I—” She considered making up a reason she’d called. She could claim to have rolled over and hit redial by accident. She remembered what Sophie had said, though, about being herself. “Is this a bad time?”

  “For you to call me? Never.”

  She smiled at that. “I couldn’t sleep and . . .” Shaking her head, she waited for him to offer to come over. That’s what men did, at least all the men she’d ever known. They wouldn’t care what was keeping her up, they’d see it as an opportunity to comfort her—intimately.

  “I couldn’t either,” he said, fitting exactly into what she’d expected him to say. “Christmas has always been my least favorite holiday, and I’m not used to remaining sober enough to experience it.”

  “I’ve always hated it, too,” she said in genuine surprise.

  “What’s the worst part for you?” he asked gently.

  “It’s all the times people say if it lacks magic, it’s because you don’t believe enough. Is it my fault that I recognize commercial exploitation of families? If the stores could partner with religion to make Christmas a monthly holiday, they would. That’s the magic of the season, that no one has caught on to how they’re being manipulated.”

  “God, you sound like me. It’s why I usually throw an anti-Christmas bash somewhere warm. It’s too depressing to watch my friends cart trees indoors, make perfectly beautiful homes gaudy with decorations, then gather with people they don’t give a shit about the rest of the year.”

  Lexi hugged her comforter to her and smiled. We really
are alike. “I can’t understand why I enjoyed the Barringtons’ party.”

  “Besides the fact that I was there?” he added with humor.

  Lexi smiled again. “Besides that. Did you enjoy it? The party, I mean?”

  He let out an audible breath. “I didn’t expect to, but I did. It felt a bit like stepping into a Norman Rockwell version of Christmas. The only imperfection I found was the absence of one of their sons. They said he was unable to come home for the holiday.”

  “Andrew. He has always been a tough one to figure out.”

  “They say the same about you.”

  “Me? Hardly. What you see is what you get with me.”

  He was silent a moment then said, “That’s what you want people to believe, anyway.”

  Lexi laughed nervously. He wasn’t speaking in sexy innuendos. He sounded sincere, and it made her nervous. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do, Clay.”

  “That’s easy enough to change.”

  And here it comes—the booty call request. She remained silent and waited for it. Hearing it would come as a relief in some ways.

  “I meant what I said about wanting to brainstorm with you on ways I could support Sophie’s charity event. You know her better than I do, and I value your opinion. I realize we’ll see each other at breakfast, but what are you doing after that? Spend the day with me.”

  Lexi chewed her bottom lip. “Tomorrow?”

  “Of course tomorrow. Or, considering the hour, today to be more precise. How brave are you feeling?”

  Excitement and disappointment filled her. She wouldn’t say yes to him, but she wasn’t ready to say no to him either. “Brave? I don’t think we should—”

  “Sorry, forget it. It was a ridiculous idea. Blame the time of night.”

  Even though Clay was proving to be just like every other man she’d known, it didn’t make him a bad person. It simply meant he wasn’t any more special than they’d been. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have called.” Her voice was thick with emotion.

  “It’s just that she asks me to visit every year, and I’ve always found a reason not to. I thought that since she’s only a few hours away this might be the year I drop in.”

  Lexi sat up in her bed. “Drop in where? Who are you talking about?”

  “My cousin Jacqueline. She grew up here in the United States and reconnecting with her has been on my to-do list.”

  There was something in his voice that lent this topic importance. “But you haven’t.”

  “No. She can be—intense.”

  “So you don’t like her.”

  “I didn’t say that. It’s a long boring story.”

  “I wasn’t sleeping anyway,” Lexi said gently.

  With that, Clay began a story of a boy raised by grandparents who gave him everything and demanded nothing except he keep a low profile in their lives. If he didn’t ask questions, didn’t cause trouble, everything and anything he wanted was at his disposal. He described his childhood as a happy one except for the times when Aunt Gina visited with her daughter. Although Clay and Jacqueline had been similar in age, Jacqueline had always been the top of her class. She had an opinion about almost every topic imaginable and the business savviness to achieve the goals she set for herself. Her fortune had risen, dipped, then risen again, and each time she came back stronger. “I know exactly how she’ll set me up,” Clay said. “She’ll list the companies she is now president or chief executive officer of now, then she’ll give me this tight little smile and ask ‘And what have you been doing?’”

  “I hate that question. You might as well ask someone how much they weigh.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I can understand why you haven’t gone to see her.”

  “She can be a real pill, but . . . she’s my only living relative. Look at the Barringtons, they have their issues, but they work it out. I feel like I should at least try.”

  Lexi dug out the flash drive and hugged it to her chest. “And you wanted me to go with you?”

  Clay cleared his throat. “Ridiculous, right?”

  No, beautiful—the most beautiful Christmas present she’d ever received. “Let’s do it. Let’s go see that cousin of yours.”

  “If it’s awful, I’ll make it up to you.”

  “It won’t be,” she promised, although she had no way of knowing if it would be or not.

  “What about your family, Lexi? You never talk about them. Where do they live?”

  She told Clay about how she’d lost her parents early in life. Despite how different her childhood had been from Clay’s, in the ways that mattered, they’d been similar. Both were in search of something better. Taking turns, they compared the stupid mistakes they’d made over the years. She’d been rebellious, he’d been self-indulgent. Neither had been happy in their own way. They were both at a place where they were ready for a change, but not sure what that meant.

  Most of what Lexi said she would never had shared with anyone because she knew the type of helpful, motivating lecture that would be showered upon her. She didn’t want to completely overhaul who she was, but she did have areas she could work on.

  Clay was the same. He was by far not apologizing for the privileged life he lived, but he wanted to be more—for his time on the planet to have mattered. As Lexi listened to him describe his vague, nagging discontent with how he was living his life, she had to stop herself from saying, “I know exactly how that feels,” over and over again.

  The sun came up and filled the room with light. Lexi looked at the clock beside her bed. “Oh, my God, it’s morning. We’ve been talking for hours.”

  “So we have. What time do you want me to pick you up?”

  A mild panic spread through Lexi. The last few hours had been good, so good, that she felt unexpectedly vulnerable. She wanted to believe.

  In him.

  In herself.

  In possibilities.

  Lexi had survived the loss of her parents and everything else life had thrown at her by telling herself she didn’t care. She had consistently chosen the thrill of the new over investing too much of herself in one person or even one career. Other than her sister and her best friend, Kenzi, she’d kept her attachments to a minimum. The less she cared about, the less life could rip away from her. It was a survivor’s philosophy, and she’d felt comfortable with it until recently.

  Unlike the men she’d dated in the past, Lexi didn’t feel that Clay wanted to control her, or worse, change her. Her stomach did a nervous flip. Part of her wanted to spend the rest of the morning getting to know him. Part of her wanted to hang up and never speak to him again.

  Something told her that if she wasn’t careful, this man could do something no other man had. He could break my heart.

  Only if I give him the power to. One good conversation doesn’t need to change anything.

  He wants to take me with him to see his family, but that means nothing more than he simply doesn’t want to go alone.

  “I’ll meet you there.”

  He chuckled. “Afraid if you let me in your door we’ll miss breakfast and spend the day in bed?”

  “Yes,” she said honestly. A rush of desire spread through Lexi at the image. With nothing more than his voice, he’d lit a need in her so raw she wanted to suggest he come over right then, but she didn’t.

  He groaned. “You’re not making it easy for me to respect your decision.”

  “My decision?”

  “To wait until New Year’s Eve.”

  Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. She’d been testing him, sure he would back off as soon as he realized she wasn’t going to drop into bed with him. She could tell him now that she’d been joking, but it might be better if he thought she’d been serious. “It wasn’t meant as a countdown.”

  “So you’re reneging on your bet? Even though I won fair and square.”

  “I wouldn’t have bet sex.” Shit. I hope I didn’t bet sex.

  He made a deep sound in his thr
oat. “Don’t tell me you can’t remember what you promised if you lost.”

  “We were both drunk.”

  “I remember every moment of that night.”

  “Good for you. A gentleman would realize that whole conversation was a joke, and he’d drop it.”

  His laugh was sexy and tempting. “I have been accused of being many things, but being a gentleman was never one of them. And you can claim to want one, but we both know I’m more your taste.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” she answered lightly. The way he said taste had her licking her lip as she remembered the heavenly feel of his mouth on hers. Even as she told herself the wisest course of action was to keep things casual, she couldn’t help but smile.

  “That’s it, I’m definitely collecting on the bet.”

  “Thankfully, I know when you’re not serious.” Lexi’s breathing came quicker. This was the other side of what they had—the sizzle.

  “Do you? I’m going to enjoy testing that confidence of yours.”

  No, don’t. It’s already unsteady. “I’ll see you at breakfast, Clay.”

  “Say my name again.”

  “Clay,” she said with a light laugh.

  “Not like that. Softer, huskier, like it turns you on when you say it.”

  “Clay,” she whispered in her best bedroom voice. Giving him what he wanted was its own pleasure. Not wanting him to see that she was equally affected she added, “Yes. Yes. Oh, yes, Clay.”

  He made a pleased sound. “I’ll take that for now, although that last part will sound even better when I’m sinking into you again and again. On New Year’s Eve. Just like you promised.”

  Lexi closed her eyes as a wave of hunger for him rocked through her. New Year’s Eve was a week away. Would they even be talking by then? If so, wouldn’t sleeping with him be a mistake? He wasn’t some guy who would fade out of her life afterward. As Dax’s best friend he would always be there, a potential long-term reminder of how she still wasn’t strong enough to make better choices.

  But, oh, what a good bad choice he’d be. “Bye, Clay.” This time her voice was richer, full of the need he’d lit in her.

  “Better. For now. See you at breakfast.”