Rocking The Billionaire (A Rich List Romantic Comedy Book 1)

by Talia Hunter

  In love. The words gave him pause. But they fit, didn’t they?

  Instead of walking back to Cindy, he found himself turning the other way. Ah, there was Freya. His assistant was circulating among Jackson’s business associates while she watched over the event with a sharp eye. If the drinks ran low or the event planners took a single shortcut, she’d handle it with her usual efficiency.

  “Freya, I’ve left Cindy by the door and I want to make sure she gets home okay. Please give her my apologies, and something extra for her trouble.”

  His assistant cocked her head and he got the impression she saw a lot more than she let on. “I’ll arrange it.”

  “Thank you.” He wanted to say more, but couldn’t articulate how grateful he was. She hadn’t questioned why it had been so urgent to chase down Meghan the other evening, and she wouldn’t ask why he couldn’t see Cindy out himself and put her in his car. Even if she did suspect all his complicated reasons, she’d never tell a soul. “Need another raise?” he asked, only half joking. “You deserve it.”

  “Wait until the end of the evening, and we’ll see whether that offer still stands.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She gave her head a quick shake. “I’ll take care of Cindy.”

  Jackson frowned as his assistant walked away. That was odd. It sounded as though she was expecting something to go wrong, and that he might blame her for it. And she’d never avoided a direct question before.

  “Jackson.” A woman’s voice distracted him from his thoughts.

  “Ellie.” He greeted his friend with a kiss on one cheek, then shook her companion’s hand.

  “This is Frank.” She introduced the man she was with. “My agent, and now my fiancé.” She held up one hand to show off an enormous diamond ring.

  “Congratulations, both of you.”

  “I should be congratulating you,” she said. “I don’t pretend to understand all the technical stuff, but your hologram machine is amazing.”

  “Ellie and I were wondering if she could use it to project a concert she’s recorded so an audience could watch it in 3-D?” added Frank.

  “Of course. Let’s get together next week to talk about the possibilities.”

  “Where’s Meghan?” asked Ellie. “Is she here?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “That’s a shame.” She nudged her fiancé. “Meghan’s the one I was telling you about. You have to hear her sing. With the right management, she could do well.”

  Frank nodded. “Do you think you could arrange it?” he asked.

  Jackson hesitated. Meghan had made it clear she didn’t want any help to get to the top, but this was too good an opportunity for her to refuse. If only she’d answer her damn phone so he could tell her about it.

  “I’ll do my best.” The words were barely out of his mouth when the singing started. Rising gracefully over the sound of the crowd, it sounded like velvet. It was achingly beautiful and so familiar it made his heart leap.

  No, it couldn’t be her. He had to be imagining her voice. It was some kind of hallucination.

  Then he caught Freya’s eye. Incredibly, her normally serene expression held a hint of trepidation.

  “This sounds like Meghan,” said Ellie, giving his arm a light swipe. “Why didn’t you tell us she was performing tonight?” She turned to her fiancé. “See? What did I tell you?”

  Jackson’s throat was tight. “Excuse me.” He crossed to Freya. “You did this?”

  Her back was stiff and her chin lifted as though bracing for his disapproval. “Are you still willing to offer that raise?”

  He was already moving toward the stage, ignoring anyone who tried to stop him. Meghan was wearing the dress she’d worn the night they’d made love in the limo. She was strumming her guitar and singing with her eyes closed, concentrating on the words of her song. And with her entire being focused on singing it, she was utterly breathtaking.

  He stood in front of her, drinking her in. She was so intent on her performance, her body was vibrating. He’d always loved watching her perform. Loved her courage and her intensity. The music came from so deep within her, it was an expression of her soul.

  Was it any wonder she’d claimed his heart?

  It wasn’t until the last note faded that she opened her eyes. Just like that terrible night in the Laughing Frog, they widened when she saw him. But unlike that night, a beaming smile didn’t break across her face.

  “Oh my God,” she said, stepping away from the microphone. “I’m so stupid. This is your party, isn’t it? You set this up.”

  “Freya did. I know you don’t want my help, but she did this herself and didn’t tell me she was hiring you.”

  “I thought I got this gig on my own merits.” Her mouth twisted as she jumped off the stage. “That’s just perfect. My one job, and it’s not even real.” The disappointment in her expression just about tore his heart out. But as badly as he ached to pull her into a hug, he held himself back, fisting his hands at his sides.

  “Meghan, you’re a wonderful singer. You deserve to be a star.”

  “I’ll settle for getting a real job.” Her shoulders slumped as she took her guitar off. “And until I do, I can’t see you, Jackson. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

  “I love you, Meghan.” The words came out too matter-of-fact, so he tried again. “I love you. I want to be with you. Whether you’re a star or not won’t change that. The fact is, I’ve always loved you.”

  “Jackson, please…”

  “I wrote a song for you when I was eighteen.” Heart thumping, he took her guitar out of her unresisting hand and fitted its strap around his neck. The strap was too short so the guitar sat too high, but it would have to do.

  “The song you argued with your father about?”

  Jackson nodded, concentrating on the way the guitar strings felt under his fingertips. They were hard and unyielding, his callouses long gone. Could he remember the song’s chords? He strummed her guitar, picking out a few of the notes and getting the feel of it.

  They were standing to one side of the stage, and with a few hundred of his business associates mingling and talking with each other in the big hall, the noise level was high. But he was close enough to Meghan for her to hear every word of the song that had driven him away all those years ago.

  As soon as he started playing, every word and note was clear in his mind. When he’d written the song, it had flowed from his heart. No wonder it seemed fresh. All the feelings he’d had for her were stronger than ever.

  He sang it softly, just for her. Gazing into her eyes, he hoped she could see what was in his heart. The people closest to them fell silent, drawing back to give him more room. And like a ripple effect the large hall slowly grew quiet, as more and more of them realized that the owner of Brent Technologies was singing a love song.

  He didn’t care. It didn’t matter who else heard, as long as she did.

  There’s a tune that’s stuck in my head.

  A refrain plays inside me.

  It beats through my blood and in my chest.

  It’s a song that reminds me.

  It’s the music of you.

  The melody of what might have been.

  A song bittersweet and true.

  It’s the music of you.

  There’s a rhythm I hear when I wake.

  A tune always with me.

  It strums on my heart and on my lips.

  It’s a song that defines me.

  It’s the music of you.

  The melody you sing into my soul.

  A song beautiful and true.

  It’s the music of you.

  By the time he’d finished, her eyes were glistening with tears. “That was beautiful,” she whispered. She started to say something else, but the room erupted into applause. His performance, although rusty, had been heartfelt, and his audience had consumed plenty of champagne. No wonder he could hear a few wolf-whistles amongst the applause.


  With a rueful smile, he waved one hand to quiet the crowd and raised his voice. “Okay. Thank you. But save your applause, because the real star of the evening is going to sing for you again.” He turned to Meghan. More than anything, he wanted to tell them the show was over and take her away with him. To spend the rest of the night convincing her he loved her and nothing else mattered. Not her career and not his money. If they were together, they could work through any problem.

  But if she sang now, with Ellie’s manager in the crowd, she could finally be signed by an agent who could give her the career she’d always dreamed off. And he needed her to be happy. So he’d just have to cool his britches and force himself to wait.

  Meghan chewed her lip, wiping under her eyes with one finger. “I loved your song, and I appreciate you asking me to perform. Really I do. But I don’t want charity.”

  “You think asking you to sing is charity?” He shook his head. “When she started organizing this party, I gave Freya strict instructions. I wanted nothing less than the best of everything, and that included the food, the wine, and the entertainment. And she outdid herself. I wouldn’t change a thing about tonight, and I’m certain my guests agree with me. Want me to get up there and ask them?” He motioned to the microphone. “What’s the bet they’ll cheer you back onto the stage?”

  “You don’t need to do that.” She put her hand on his arm, her eyes still sparkling with unshed tears. “I want to sing for you, Jackson. I’ll get back onstage so you can hear the song I wrote for you. We can talk afterward, okay?”

  Looking into those clear, blue eyes, he couldn’t help himself. He stepped forward and kissed her. A kiss that promised his heart. Promised the entire world, as much of it as he could possibly give her. And to his relief, she kissed him back, her lips parting beneath his. They had the guitar between them, so he couldn’t hold her. He couldn’t lift her into his arms the way he wanted to and carry her away.

  That was probably a good thing.

  He stepped back and his heart expanded when he saw the beauty of the smile that curved her lips. “We can talk afterward,” he agreed. “There’s no rush. Sing for me sweetheart. I promise, Meghan, we have all the time in the world.”

  She nodded. “I love you too,” she whispered. Then she climbed onto the stage and sang.

  One Year Later

  Meghan smoothed her dress down, looking critically at herself in the bedroom mirror. Then she grinned. The best thing about having a stylist was getting to look so good. Her dreadlocks were pinned up in a complicated pattern she’d never be able to do herself, and her eye makeup looked amazing.

  “Stunning,” said Jackson, coming up behind her.

  “You don’t clean up too badly yourself.” She turned to adjust his already-straight tie, just because she loved touching him. Truth was, after a year together, his good looks still made her breathless.

  “We’re going to be late. Are you ready?” He offered his arm to escort her outside to the limo, and as usual, his cologne did wicked things to her. If he wore it every day for the rest of their lives, she’d never get enough of it. Sometimes when they were forced to spend a little time apart, she sprayed a little on herself just so she could smile every time she smelled it. But it didn’t smell half as good on her as it did on him.

  “What song’s in your head?” he asked, nodding at her fingers tapping against his arm.

  “I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing, by Aerosmith.” It was the perfect song for how she felt. If she could give up sleeping, she’d do it in a heartbeat. She didn’t want to miss a second of this. Of him. How could she have imagined that life would ever be this good?

  “Do you have a song in your head?” she asked as they shut the front door behind them.

  “If I did, it would be, You Look Wonderful Tonight. Eric Clapton sang it, didn’t he?”

  Though her heart was filled with warmth, she gave him a mock grimace. “Cheesy.”

  “What can I say? When it comes to you, I only hear the classics.”

  Sliding onto the limo’s leather seat, she gave him a suggestive look. “Remember the first time we made love in here?”

  “I’ll never forget it.”

  When he settled in next to her, she ran her hand up his thigh. “We could play hooky and do that again instead.”

  “Tempting. But this’ll be the biggest hologram I’ve ever projected. I’m looking forward to seeing it. Aren’t you?”

  “Sure.” She screwed up her nose, pretending reluctance. “As long as the place isn’t full of businessmen wearing suits. You know how I hate that.”

  “We don’t have to hang around afterward.” He dropped his voice and leaned in close to her ear. “We could get back in the limo and investigate what you have on under that dress.”

  It was the gust of his breath against her ear as much as his words that made her give a throaty laugh. There was no way in the world she’d miss the event tonight, and he knew it. But teasing him was almost as good as touching him, and she liked to do plenty of both.

  Traffic slowed as they got close to the Opera House. Sydney’s waterfront was bustling with crowds of people enjoying the beautiful evening. The limo crawled to the end of Macquarie Street and stopped.

  “You ready?” asked Jackson.

  Meghan nodded, but the closer they got, the more her stomach was turning over. “Do I look okay?” she asked.

  He took her face in his hands and grazed his lips gently across hers, being careful not to smudge her lipstick, then kissed her nose more firmly. “You’re perfect. You know that.”

  She managed a nervous smile. “Just checking.”

  Their driver opened her door and Meghan got out of the limo as gracefully as she could. She tried not to squint as a dozen photographers’ flashbulbs went off.

  “Meghan. Meghan, over here.”

  “Look at me, Meghan.”

  “Give me a smile, Meghan.”

  No matter what, she’d never get used to having photographers clamoring for her picture. Fame had come suddenly, and she still felt exactly like the woman who’d had to sing with her cap on the sidewalk to be able to afford a bed for the night. How on earth had she made it from there to here?

  “Can we get a picture of you with your boyfriend, Meghan?”

  She stretched her hand to Jackson and he put his arm around her waist.

  “Is he someone?” she heard a photographer ask.

  She glanced at Jackson. He was biting his lip, trying not to laugh. The sight made her want to crack up too, but she couldn’t in front of the cameras. Not unless she wanted to see a shot of herself mid-snort in a magazine. It would probably make the cover.

  “That’s Jackson Brent, you idiot,” someone replied.

  Jackson urged her forward with his arm still around her. “Come on. There’s Ellie and Frank.”

  They walked toward the Opera House together and she greeted her friends. All of her heady success she owed to Frank. He was officially the best agent in the world and she’d come to love both him and Ellie, almost as much as she loved Jackson.

  Ellie grinned at her. “Ready to see us both projected as giant-sized holograms?”

  Meghan shook her head. “I’m not sure. It’s going to be weird watching myself sing.”

  “It’ll be the easiest concert I’ve ever done.” Ellie linked her arm in Frank’s. “I’m going to enjoy it.”

  “As long as the audience does, I’ll be happy.” Meghan put her arm back around Jackson’s waist, and the four of them strolled toward the Opera House’s impressive front steps. A red carpet had been laid out for them, and security guards were keeping the bystanders back. Meghan smiled at her fans and waved, while she and Jackson walked in step with each other. Jackson moderated his long strides for her, and she stretched hers to match his.

  “They can’t get enough of you,” Jackson murmured in her ear. “And the whole world will love you even more once your concert’s available to watch on every cellphone and computer.”

&
nbsp; She shook her head, still a little bewildered by how fame had barreled out of nowhere and smacked right into her. Rolling Stone magazine had called her an overnight star, and after more than a decade of going nowhere, that was exactly how it felt.

  “As long as you love me, that’s all I care about.” She thought she’d whispered it too quietly for Jackson to hear, but he bent his head to her ear again.

  “Is there a song about loving a woman who’s going to be richer than I am?”

  “I’ll never be that rich.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it.” His smile was lifted in one corner, and she could tell he was enjoying the possibility. Jackson wanted great things for her and was enjoying every minute of her rise to the top. She only hoped he knew how grateful she was and how her heart was overflowing. But he had to know, considering how often she told him.

  At the base of Sydney’s iconic Opera House was a tall set of stairs they’d have to climb. The red carpet went all the way up to the top, and Meghan hoped she wouldn’t get one of her heels caught on it and fall. But she couldn’t fall, because Jackson was there, his arm around her, supporting her. The way he’d always be there for her.

  Singing at his release party had being the starting point for her career, but every word and note of the album that had made her a star had come from her own heart. And on her crazy, wild ride to the top of the music charts, she’d come to realize that needing him wasn’t a weakness. Leaning on each other made them both stronger.

  It was only when they’d climbed the staircase and were at the entrance doors that Jackson let her go. “Turn around,” he said. “See how far we’ve come.”

  Meghan turned and saw everything that was laid out before them. Her fans, here to attend the world premiere of her and Ellie’s 3-D concert. The cluster of photographers with their flashing cameras. The red carpet they’d ascended. Beyond all that was the harbor and the tall buildings of Sydney’s inner city, just starting to sparkle with lights. They really were on top of the world.