Beauty and the Billionaire Beast

by Maria Hoagland

  She’d been confident until she had to concentrate so hard on finding another s word for problem. Knowing he couldn’t top that one, Theo shook his head in concession and they all burst into laughter.

  “There’s a lot of work that needs done. A lot.” She took another bite of her beignet, chewed slowly, and swallowed, clearly hesitant to say what was on her mind. “How long has it been since you’ve had a landscaper? There’s more work than one person can do, I’m afraid.” Her face flushed scarlet, and she started talking again, her words coming quick and animated. “Not that I can’t do it. I can. It will take me a while, though, you know, if you can’t afford another person.”

  Relief flooded through him. Being able to afford someone wasn’t the problem. With the state she found the property in, he could see why she would think that, but he waved off her concern.

  “Of course. I expected to.” He felt the need to rationalize the state of the property—explain why the place was a shambles. “I just bought the place. The last owner lived two thousand miles away, and the only thing he ever did with the estate was shoot an antebellum zombie movie that never made it off the B rolls. Our deal closed a couple of weeks ago. My aim now is to restore it without losing the integrity or history of the place, and if that means getting you some help, that’s not a problem.”

  He wouldn’t hire just anyone, though.

  “So what is your vision for the garden?” she asked. “Sort of like a miniature Longwood Gardens?” She had a twinkle in her eye, a challenge. She probably thought he had no idea where that one was.

  “If only this garden could compare.” Over the years, he’d visited plenty of gardens, and it took a second to detangle the details of the Pennsylvania garden she’d referenced from the rest. “But if we’re going for the best parterre gardens, I was thinking more like Levens Hall or Eyrignac Manor. If we want to rebrand past live oaks and hedges, we could shoot for something like Wales’s Bodnant Gardens or Keukenhof.”

  The opportunity to take in the sights was what Theo loved most about traveling. In his mind’s eye, he recalled traversing the meticulously planned paths of each of these gardens, admiring the fragrances, textures, and sights. But it wasn’t until he’d experienced the neglected potential of Indigo Pointe that he fully appreciated the investment of work that transformed land into works of art.

  When he finished speaking, Emma was wiping her sticky fingers on a paper napkin, her eyes wide with awe.

  See, they did have things in common, he wanted to point out, but he didn’t.

  “I’m not sure we could pull off the tulip gardens in this climate, but we’re not too far off the tree tunnels at Bodnant.”

  He loved their linguistic dances about snails and gardens, and he couldn’t wait to see what the next obscure conversation would be about. He was pretty sure she had just captured his heart.

  Chapter 11

  How much money did this guy have? Had he visited all those places or merely done his research online? Emma was about to ask when Theo changed the subject.

  “I need this property to reach its full potential as soon as possible.”

  How had he gone from talking excitedly about famous European gardens to beating the dead horse of his “get it done now, get it done right” mantra? Emma forced herself not to roll her eyes.

  “Why?” She hoped she didn’t sound like she was challenging him. “Do you plan to sell?”

  “It’s what I do.” He was matter-of-fact about the situation, and the thought scared her to death.

  What would happen if it sold? Would she ever solve her grandfather’s puzzle? Not that she had one iota of say in the matter. “What about the family connection?”

  For the first time since she’d known him, Theo looked startled by the question, almost taken aback. “What family connection?” he asked slowly.

  She had listened during his presentation. Had she misunderstood?

  “It’s not a family plantation,” he said. “I just told you I recently purchased it.”

  “Yes, but …” Emma tried to recall any of the names she’d seen on the linage plaque posted inside the big house. He’d distracted her so thoroughly by standing right behind her, the scent of his cologne and the heat of his body more captivating than names she couldn’t focus on. And she’d been distraught by their run-in over the photograph. “You mentioned forced heirships and that it has been a working plantation since the late 1700s, so I guess I figured you purchased it from a relative.”

  She closed her eyes, remembering the framed lineage, feeling the movement of the words as if they were calligraphy. Something was on the tip of her memory; she could almost grasp it. “Wait. Did I see Treager on that list?” How had that crucial detail slipped her notice? “Did Indigo Pointe belong to my family at one point?”

  “About that …”

  The man was struggling, but she wasn’t going to let him off the hook. She glared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You were looking at the pedigree. I assumed you saw your own name there on the list. That kind of thing tends to stand out to people.” Though he seemed nervous about it, his words made sense.

  She felt a surge of envy for something she hadn’t even thought to want a half hour before. Yes, she liked the place. Yes, she wanted the history preserved. Yes, she felt a familial connection, but she hadn’t realized how deeply her roots here went. A sense of loss washed over her, but she tried to suppress it.

  Perhaps Indigo Pointe had belonged to her ancestors, but not once could she ever remember the name even being whispered at a family reunion. Until recently, no one had mentioned being from Louisiana. No one spoke of sugarcane instead of sugar beets or indigo instead of mint. How could she feel she had lost something that had never belonged to her?

  How could she hold that against Theo, who had purchased the property to preserve it, preventing it from slipping into the chasm of irrevocable disrepair? That wouldn’t be fair of her.

  She took another sip of orange juice to give herself an extra moment to think. Avoidance. That was almost always the best course of action. “If we could hire some guys to come out and help me clean up the live oaks, the trees will quickly be on the mend. The next highest task on my priority list is the roses. They need … well, everything … before it gets too much later into the summer.”

  Theo raised his eyebrows as he listened, closed-mouthed. She couldn’t blame him. She changed moods and subjects as quickly as he did.

  “I’ll be in the rose garden if you need me.” Emma stepped to the sink and rinsed her glass before drying her hands on her jeans. “Thanks for breakfast.”

  She exited through the back door and closed it quietly behind her.

  Chapter 12

  That first step onto the porch of the garçonnière every morning would never get old. Glistening fog shrouded the gardens, cloaked the marble statue, and obscured the sundial. Emma didn’t need the sun to tell her it was early. Indigo Pointe was magical before visitors showed up, the silence disturbed by only the whispers of forgotten memory. The rest of the world was only a few minutes away by car but eons away in her mind.

  Emma could get used to living at Indigo Pointe for the long haul if only the work weren’t so strenuous. Sore muscles tugged her skin taut as if she no longer fit into her own body; however, the evidence of yesterday’s bending and lifting also filled her with a deep feeling of accomplishment.

  She locked her front door and pocketed the key, stretching and leaning back in an arch. The three paces it took for her to approach the stairs were just enough to reveal a resin garden gnome waiting by the porch railing. Armed with a miniature hoe and watering can, the chubby-cheeked statue was an unconventional modern-day statue in this Greek Revival courtyard. The irony of the juxtaposition wasn’t lost on her. Was it Theo or Zoe who had put it here?

  Smiling to herself at his presence, Emma left the gnome at his station and headed to the barn to retrieve her tools. The lawn crew wasn’t scheduled to come un
til tomorrow, when she would oversee their trimming of the precious live oaks. Until then, she would continue in the rose garden, where she’d worked so hard the previous day. By her calculations, she’d have at least two more days before they would be ready for her to spread her attentions elsewhere in the garden.

  Reaching the white barn with its deep green trim, Emma tugged on the door and found another gnome frozen as he went about his yard work. The pudgy fellow rode a tricycle that transported a bucket of yellow resin flowers on the back and small hand tools in the faux wicker basket on the handlebars.

  “Already working hard, are you?” she greeted the statue as if he could hear and respond. She picked him up from the doorway, staring into his unblinking, almost disturbing eyes, but with the jolly smile, how could he be anything but cute? “Come on, little guy, we need to move you out of harm’s way.”

  After positioning him near a fence post, Emma collected her tools and made her way to the rose garden, on the lookout for more gnomes. These kinds of things always went in threes, didn’t they? It wasn’t until she stepped through the arbor archway into the churchyard that she was rewarded. In the churchyard alone, she found a set of three gnomes, each riding a different animal—a dove, a snail, and a turtle. She left them where they were, occasionally talking to them as she worked. It was crazy, but it helped pass the time, and she found she rather liked them.

  She’d made significant progress in her work as the sun had stretched across the horizon by the time Theo ducked under the arbor and into the solitude of the rose garden.

  “Ready for a break?” Theo handed her a water bottle slick with condensation, and she realized how much she needed it.

  “Thanks.” She accepted the bottle and drank deeply. “What time is it?”

  “Time for lunch.” His body language, though, said the opposite. He settled himself on the soft Kentucky bluegrass that had been beckoning her for a nap. “Looking good! I can’t believe the transformation already.”

  “Thanks.” Emma flopped down next to him, all of a sudden exhausted. “There’s still so much more to do.”

  She had been working since six. She eyed the bushes critically, but had to agree with Theo’s assessment. She’d started on one end, painstakingly clipping away sucker branches and overgrowth as she moved down the line. It looked like a homeless man was getting a much-needed haircut and shave, but only one side of his head and face had been done so far.

  “I see what you’re saying about that snail problem.” Theo pointed with his chin at the gnome astride the giant snail. “But it’s a little bigger than you let on.” He took a drink from his own water bottle.

  She nodded in mock solemnity. “That’s what happens when you allow it to get out of control.”

  “Looks like the gnome’s got him in hand. The bridle kind of gives that impression.”

  “True.” She lay back on the grass, the warmth of the sun putting her at risk for falling asleep.

  A couple of blissfully silent seconds ticked by before she felt Theo rise. “Ready?” he whispered, barely interrupting the stillness.

  Emma wasn’t sure she could lift herself off the ground, but he offered her a hand and a power boost. The soft coolness of his palm against her callused one made her almost unwilling to let go. She’d barely turned around when she noticed the first gnome from her porch tucked behind the base of the arbor vine.

  “How’d he get here?” Not that she expected an answer.

  “Gnomes aren’t to be seen by the tourists,” he explained simply. “They lose their magic if they’re caught by the guests.”

  Emma nodded. “That makes sense, but how did he end up here?”

  “You said you needed help?” Theo asked as if it were a question. Silly man. He was grasping at straws, but he was so cute.

  Emma gathered her tools, tucking them out of the way for later, and they started toward the office. “Do you plan on restoring the overseer’s house or any of the other dependencies?”

  “Sort of.” Theo kicked one of the larger rocks like a soccer ball. “It is important for the building exteriors to be in good order—not updated, but cared for—but I don’t plan on adding any of them to the tour. Because of that, I figure it’s okay to go for functional rather than restored. You know, things like indoor plumbing and air conditioning. Once I get back to my day job, Zoe will be running the show, so I promised her first dibs on which one will be her permanent residence. I think she’s taking the farmhouse, but she hasn’t made a decision yet. I told her she needs to get a move on, but she says she can’t find the right general contractor.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.

  “She’s not in a huge hurry, though, since she’s always lived in the area.” He cut in front of her half a step to get to his rock just as she was about to step there. She grabbed on to his arm to keep from stumbling, and she loved the way he paused to steady her. “Sorry about that,” he said, but kept going, seemingly less affected by their touch than she felt. “As far as other buildings, eventually I expect we’ll fix them up for visiting family members, the maintenance-slash-handyman, and my uncle who manages the fields.”

  “I thought you said you were going to sell.” She was confused. Had he recently changed his mind?

  “Did I say that?” His innocent look was way too forced.

  “And I quote, ‘It’s what I do.’” Emma’s deep “man voice” came out too gravelly, and Theo laughed.

  “I did say that, didn’t I?” He shook his head. “No, that was never actually the plan with this property.”

  Though she wanted to explore the why behind previously misleading her, she wanted to get back to the earlier conversation more. “So you’re not going to do the restoration work yourself?” She didn’t think he would, but she liked teasing him about it.

  “Ha ha,” he said sarcastically. He kicked his rock a little too hard, and it ended up too far out of his reach. “As you seem to have guessed, I don’t really do that kind of thing.” He looked at her sideways. “I’m more of a ‘paper-pusher businessman with a little tour guiding on the side’ kind of guy, but renovation and landscape architecture? That’s better left up to the professionals.”

  “Thank you. I guess?” Emma wasn’t sure if he was complimenting her.

  “I know my limitations. I want things done impeccably and I am well aware I couldn’t deliver. So I hire the best. My contributions consist of signing plans and signing checks to people much more creative than I.” He got a faraway look in his eyes as if remembering a specific project. “And then it gets carried out flawlessly. Win-win.”

  Back at the office, he forced open the sticky front door instead of leading them around the back, and they walked through. “One of my next orders of business is finding the right handyman for this huge job.”

  A thought occurred to Emma, so perfect she was almost afraid to present it. “About the handyman-slash-GC Zoe is looking for … I know a guy who just might be right for the job. My brother Brett is skilled in historic restoration.” Having her big brother and best friend here on the family property just felt right. “But …”

  Would Brett be interested if that meant moving his family again? He’d done it before. And the Treager plantation. He’d kill her if she didn’t at least make the suggestion. “He’s currently elbow-deep near Chicago restoring a Frank Lloyd Wright some idiot almost ruined.” She closed her eyes, trying to remember. “I think he’ll be done by the end of summer, beginning of fall. If you’re looking for the right person, a few months isn’t too long to wait. I could have him email a résumé and portfolio.”

  “Do that. We’ll work on the grand entrance design while we wait.” Theo’s eyes darted around and he shifted his weight.

  Used to having his full attention, Emma looked around, trying to figure out what was distracting him. She couldn’t figure it out. “I do have a preliminary sketch, but I’m not quite ready to present it yet.”

  “No rush. I don’t suppose you’ve had much time for it yet.
”

  That was true. Coming up with an idea wasn’t too hard, but there was a myriad of other things she needed to do to make sure her design was the best it could be. She needed to do internet comparisons, see if anything inspired her in a different direction. Then she needed to choose materials, outline a prospective budget, and timeline. It was a big project, and she wanted to do it right, but it was also going to be so much fun.

  Why hadn’t they gone into the kitchen? When Theo had stopped in the office rather than going on into the kitchen, it had felt odd. But maybe he was allowing them privacy to finish their conversation. “Are we… waiting for something?” she asked.

  He held up a finger, asking her to wait a minute. “Hey, Zoe?” Theo called through to the kitchen. “Can you come out here for a second?”

  “About time. Where have y’all been?” Zoe came through the swinging door, her hands full with a plate of club sandwiches and a bowl of fruit salad. “What’s up?”

  Theo stepped forward to relieve her of the heavy bowl, and the two of them set the food on the sideboard. “Did you see what you’ve done now?”

  Zoe’s forehead wrinkled, creating lines between her eyes that made her look twenty years older. “Umm … no? Where? What are you talking about?”

  Theo walked the women to the front door, opened it, and pointed behind a thick banana tree trunk near the parking lot. Was that another gnome? Or three?

  “What on earth?” Zoe bounded down the stairs, and the other two followed for a closer look.

  Two resin squirrels seemed to be walking away from the plantation, a garden gnome hoisted on their shoulders as if they were hauling him off the property. “I told you if you fed them, those squirrels would take over,” Theo deadpanned.

  Zoe slapped him on his chest. “You joker.” She marched back toward the office. “Let’s eat before they come back for our food.”

  “A plethora of gnomes.” Emma could pretend seriousness as well as Theo could. “I wonder where they’re all coming from.” She shook her head at the perfectness of the squirrel statue after Zoe and the peanut butter sandwiches. “You know, I may have to reconsider this job. I didn’t realize when I took it on that you have a gnome problem in addition to those pesky snails. I’m afraid I might have missed that section in class about how to deal with gnomes.”