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Secret Billionaire

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by Leah Torie




  Secret Billionaire

  A Clean Christian Billionaire Romance

  Leah Torie

  Secret Billionaire: A clean Christan romance

  Copyright 2020 Leah Torie All Rights Reserved

  Cover design by Leah Torie

  Edited by Frostbite Publishing

  The moral right of the author is reserved.

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  https://dl.bookfunnel.com/z2wqus7mr1

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Thank you!

  Chapter 1

  Gripping a wicker basket of treats, Jessie walked down the stark white corridor of St. Paul’s Hospital knowing she was a few minutes early. She sometimes felt like she spent most of her life these days waiting for visiting hours to begin at the hospital. There was never enough time before she had to go home to the big empty house and wait until some emotionally empty bureaucrats decided she was allowed to visit again.

  “Name?” Nurse Kay behind the desk had to know who Jessie was by now, but for some reason she always acted like they had never met before. Downright unfriendly, it was, and there was no call for it. Especially not on this ward.

  Jessie couldn’t look at the sign above the nurse’s station. Reading it always made her nauseous. Though, she of course knew what it said; palliative care. She didn’t need to be reminded.

  “Jessie Martin, to see my mom, Mrs. Francesca Martin.”

  “Sign the sheet.” Nurse Kay pushed a sheet toward Jessie. She picked up the cheap plastic ballpoint pen and wrote her name. “Two hours. Mrs. Martin needs her rest.”

  Jessie snapped inside. “How’s rest gonna help her? The doc said she only has weeks to live. She should be allowed to spend it with her family instead of staring at the ceiling tiles.”

  Nurse Kay was unfazed. Clearly, she had dealt with stressed relatives of patients before.

  “Ma’am, rules are rules.” She shrugged and busied herself with some paperwork.

  Jessie rolled her eyes but decided not to waste her meager visiting time arguing with someone. She hurried into the ward. Lying on a bed and attached to various machines, her mom was almost the same color as the sheets. Even her blue eyes seemed to have faded.

  “Mommy?” Jessie’s voice cracked as emotion welled up, strangling her from deep inside her chest.

  “Jessica? That you?”

  “You know it, Mom. Every day.” Jessie didn’t add that it was unlikely her sisters would show up from their scattered homes on the two coasts. “I got you some homemade soup.”

  “Thank you, dear, but I’m not really hungry.”

  Jessie knew that. Her mom was wasting away. She’d never quite got back on her feet since the third round of chemo had left her sick and weak. Or perhaps it was the cancer.

  “I’m sure you could try a little spoonful. I made it just for you.” Any little sip of soup would be a victory. “It’s your favorite.”

  Jessie pulled out a Thermos of still-warm soup and poured a little into a plastic cup. With a spoon, she scooped up a small amount of liquid and brought it to her mom’s dry lips.

  “Carrot and cilantro,” Jessie said.

  After a moment of hesitation, her mom opened her mouth and accepted the spoon. Sucked. Swallowed.

  “It’s good.”

  “Thanks. Here, have a little more.”

  Slowly, negotiating every little spoonful, Jessie got her mom to swallow about three ounces of soup before she flatly refused to open her mouth again. As soon as Jessie put the spoon into the basket, her mom’s lips tightened. It was the closest she could come to smiling, these days.

  “Does the beeping drive you crazy?” Jessie asked, indicating the heart rate monitor.

  “I forget it’s there,” her mom confessed.

  They fell into a silence. Jessie wanted to say so many things. She wanted to scream and cry and yell at God that this wasn’t fair. But she kept it to herself. There was no sense distressing her mom, and anyway, it wouldn’t change what was happening.

  She didn’t trust herself to say much, anymore. Crying or being frustrated about the situation wasn’t fair on her mom. She had to be brave.

  “Do you have a boyfriend, yet?”

  The question penetrated the silence from nowhere, and made Jessie’s eyes widen.

  “Boyfriend?” She tried to think whether she’d given her mom any reason to ask such a thing. Had one of the town’s gossips seen her talking to a man and called her mom? “Life’s busy enough, what with taking care of Taylor and the animals and all.”

  “Sweetheart. Don’t look so startled. There has to be someone in Oakdale who can make you an honest woman.”

  “I’m a very honest woman, Mom. That seems to be what men don’t like about me.”

  “Well, sure, no man wants to hear that you think he ought to pick up after himself, or that you don’t like the way he gets his hair cut. But I was thinking more of Taylor.”

  Jessie pressed her lips together and tried to stay quiet, but her insides clenched. She didn’t need to hear this again.

  “Jessie, that girl doesn’t have a father figure in her life. Would it have killed you to marry the man who you liked well enough to let him...” Mrs. Martin trailed off and waved a hand.

  Jessie shook her head. “He told me to get rid of the baby, then he ran off to Hawaii with Linda Mae. I’m sorry, Mom, I know it disappointed you and half the town, but I wasn’t going to tie myself down to a man with those sort of views. For what it’s worth, I was pretty disappointed, too. I would never have... been so close with him if I’d had any idea he was no good.”

  “You committed a sin, and Taylor is a reminder, to you and to the whole town, that you did not wait for the sanctity of marriage.”

  Jessie bristled. “Say what you want about me, Mom, gosh knows I probably deserve it, but don’t you dare say a word about that girl. She is perfect. God allowed her to come into this world and He made her innocent like every other baby.”

  “He gave her to you as a punishment. Like those cattle thieves who used to be branded for their crimes. That girl is your brand.”

  Tears sprang to Jessie’s eyes but she forced them down. She wouldn’t cry in front of her mom.

  “I forgot I left the front door unlocked. I need to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She stood to leave.

  “There. I’ve upset you. Don’t leave under a cloud. The one thing I want more than anything in the world is to see you settled. Happy. Like your sisters. It’s my dying wish.”

  “Don’t put that on me, Mom, that’s an impossible request.” No one had even asked Jessie on a date in months, and even if they had, she would have turned them down without thinking. She had way too much on her plate to even contemplate something as frivolous as her own happiness.

  “My dying wish,” her mom reiterated. “Be sure to bring a plus one to the funeral. Or I’ll come back down from Heaven and haunt you.”

  Jessie forced herself to laugh. Her mom’s sense of humor had darkened since the news that she was terminally ill.

  As Jessie headed home, she wished her mom would let her forget that she had a daughter and no husband. In this modern world, was it really such a bad thing? At least Taylor wasn’t being terrorized by an angry man who
wanted to be somewhere else, with someone else. Surely this was better.

  Wasn’t it?

  Chapter 2

  “Mommy, can I wear my unicorn scrunchie?” Taylor asked while Jessie put the finishing touches to her own outfit. It was strange to get dressed up, like she was an imposter, pretending to live a better life. Makeup and hair were just as bad. Jessie hated all of it. She didn’t like knowing her own face and natural hair weren’t good enough for the world to see.

  “I thought you wanted to wear the sequined one.” Jessie looked down at her beautiful daughter, with adorable golden ringlets and big, long-lashed brown eyes. The pink dress Taylor wore came past her knees, and was finished with white ankle socks and flat, black, Mary-Jane shoes.

  “I changed my mind.”

  Jessie forced herself to smile. “All right, we’ll switch them. Turn around.” She took the sequin scrunchie out of her daughter’s hair and replaced it with the unicorn one. “There. Pretty as a princess.”

  Taylor smiled and twirled, letting her skirt spin around her. Jessie threw some things into her purse, then went to look for Freddie. She had planned to shut him in the kitchen with food and water, but he didn’t seem to be anywhere in the house so she guessed he was in the yard. Fine. He couldn’t break anything out there.

  “C’mon, princess, time to stop the show.” She took Taylor’s hand and walked her to the car.

  “Mama, whose party is this?” Taylor asked as she buckled her safety belt.

  “It’s my cousin Martha’s wedding.”

  “Why do people have parties when they get married?”

  Jessie opened her mouth to answer then realized she had no idea. She struggled to say something that was a good guess.

  “I think it’s so people can celebrate that a man and a woman are coming together and starting a new life.”

  Taylor thought about this for a moment.

  “That’s crazy. People get to have a party because they are going to have a happy life? They should have a big party if they don’t have a husband because they’re going to be sad and lonely. Like you.”

  “I think that would be a pity party. And I’m not sad or lonely.” Jessie didn’t know what else to say. She avoided saying anything bad about Taylor’s father in front of her. “I love being by myself. I’m an independent woman and I don’t need the permission of any man to do anything I want.”

  “So... you could eat, like, ice cream for breakfast?” Taylor giggled.

  Jessie nodded. “I could.”

  “Why don’t you?”

  “Because all the different types of food do different jobs in your body, and ice cream wouldn’t do the right thing to help me start my day.”

  “So why do you have coffee and a muffin for breakfast and I have cereal?”

  Jessie smiled. Taylor was being very perceptive today. Jessie liked to encourage her daughter’s curiosity... to a point.

  “Because adults need different food to children.”

  “Is that why lots of adults never eat dessert or drink soda?”

  “Yes. Hey, why don’t we have a sing-song?”

  Keen to change the subject before she ran out of answers, Jessie turned on the radio and tuned it to her favorite station.

  “Oh, I know this one!” Taylor declared, and began singing along. Jessie’s heart glowed. Her daughter was so precious.

  “There’s a spot, Mama!” Taylor called, and Jessie scooted into the space before anyone else could get it. They’d been driving around for long enough looking for parking near the church.

  “Great job, Taylor. Now, let’s hurry, we don’t want to be late!” Jessie got out and opened Taylor’s door for her, before taking her hand and walking into the church.

  As they entered the building, a pang of guilt went through Jessie. Sometimes it seemed like the whole town were regular church-goers, but she never seemed to find the time to attend the Sunday service. It was another way she wasn’t good enough for the rest of them. If it wasn’t for her family’s money, she was pretty sure she would have been run out of town by now.

  This wedding was a prime example of her family’s showy ways. There were photographers from the local newspaper’s gossip column attending and Jessie knew Martha planned to arrive in a horse-drawn carriage. The Martins were Oakdale royalty and they knew it.

  “Not even Louboutin’s,” someone whispered loudly as Jessie walked down to the front with Taylor. The front two rows were supposed to be reserved for family, but they’d been filled up.

  “Sorry, hon, Miranda’s friends have joined us. There’s some room further back.”

  “No problem, Aunt Pearl.” Gripping her daughter’s hand tighter than was necessary, Jessie turned and made the humiliating journey back up the aisle until she found an empty spot.

  “This seat’s taken.”

  Fury flared through Jessie and she glared at the man who had placed his programme down on the empty space beside him. He had dark hair and eyes, but creamy pale skin. His suit was well-cut. He obviously came from money and was probably accustomed to getting his way in most areas of his life. Jessie decided she’d just about had enough nonsense for one day.

  “My seven-year-old daughter is not standing through this ceremony. If you want an extra-large seat to put your purse on, you should have brought your own.” She stepped forward and swiped the programme sideways, sitting down and lifting Taylor onto her knee.

  “It’s not for me, it’s for my elderly mother,” the man persisted.

  Jessie raised her brows in disbelief. “Sure. Your invisible elderly mother.”

  Yeesh, the lengths some people will go to avoid sitting by someone else.

  “Mom?” Taylor turned to look at Jessie.

  “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

  “There’s a lady.”

  “There’s lots of ladies, it’s a wedding.” Sometimes the kid said the strangest things.

  “I know, but this one is standing next to us.” Taylor began raising her finger but Jessie caught her little hand and held onto it.

  “You know it’s rude to point.” Jessie looked sideways and saw an old lady standing at the entrance to the pew.

  “May I sit with my son?” she asked coldly.

  Jessie looked from the gray-haired lady to the man in the expensive suit. There was definitely a family resemblance. They had the same Roman nose.

  “Oh, geez.”

  “Indeed.” The man seemed pleased at Jessie’s complete embarrassment.

  “I’m not moving,” Jessie said. “I have a child.”

  The man sighed. “You would make my poor, frail mother stand?”

  Jessie made a face of scorn. “No. I’m not the only person in this church with a seat. If you’re so concerned with her welfare, rather than with emotionally blackmailing me about my choice of seat, you should stand and let her take your seat.”

  “Last in, first out,” he countered.

  Jessie shook her head.

  “Thomas?” the old lady’s tone made it clear she expected her son to solve the problem.

  “You can take my seat, Mother, since this rude woman won’t be courteous.”

  Jessie let him squeeze past her, doing nothing to help, before she slid along the bench to where he had been sitting. His mom took Jessie’s former seat and Thomas, realizing he hadn’t won, walked to the back of the church and stood with the last of the guests. Trying to be subtle, Jessie glanced at him as he stood. He was exceptionally handsome. A real Mr. Darcy. And, boy, did he know it.

  She had no more time to pay him any mind, though, because at that moment, the harpist began to play, the bride appeared at the top of the aisle, resplendent in a meringue-colored dress, and the church fell silent as everyone stood to watch her slowly march toward the altar, where the groom and pastor waited with Martha’s father.

  Throughout the ceremony, Jessie struggled to pay attention because the old lady kept sniffing with disapproval, rustling a packet of hard candies and elbowing Je
ssie in the ribs as often as she could get away with.

  “Mama, I don’t feel so good,” Taylor said.

  “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

  She opened her mouth to talk at the same moment the old lady elbowed Jessie again.

  “Do you mind?” Jessie demanded, and Taylor turned to look at her, green around the edges.

  “I am so sorry, Mrs. Davies.” Jessie had apologized a half-dozen times by then. They were standing outside the church and the happy couple were being positioned by a photographer. Jessie had forgotten how long this part of a wedding could take. “Please send me the dry cleaner’s bill for your coat.”

  “Are you implying I can’t afford to get this cleaned?” The old grouch never seemed to be happy.

  “No, not at all, I was just offering to make things right is all.”

  “Your husband must have his work cut out, paying to clean up after you.”

  Jessie sighed. “I clean up after myself, thank you very much.”

  Her beady eyes flicked down to Jessie’s left hand. Then her lips turned down like she’d stepped in something unpleasant. Without saying anything further, she turned and walked away.

  “I guess that got rid of the problem,” Jessie remarked.

  “What did?” Taylor looked confused, but she seemed to be feeling better.

  “She got offended that your mama isn’t married,” Jessie explained.

  “Why does she care so much?”

  Jessie shrugged. “No idea.”

  But she knew. Of course she did. The whole town never let her forget it.

  Finally, the pictures were done and the captive audience of wedding guests were able to move to the hotel for the wedding reception.

 

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