After Loss - A Billionaire Romance Novel (Romance, Billionaire Romance, Life After Love Book 2)

by Nancy Adams

When she spotted Sam, Jenna was immediately taken aback at how much better he looked in real life when compared to the photographs she'd seen of him. Photographs where he looked ill at ease as he posed for the picture. In those pictures—which he still looked attractive in—he appeared hunched over, afraid of his own size. But now he stood before her in full glory and she found herself blushing slightly in his presence.

  She offered her slender hand to him, which he instantly took.

  “Jenna Blackwell,” she said with a gentle smile.

  “Sam Burgess,” he acknowledged with a grin of his own.

  Once they'd shaken hands, Sam took her to her room, a very spacious affair with luxurious ornamental furniture and decorations in the style of the late Baroque period of Europe; all spindly legged furniture with elegant carvings, a chandelier hanging from the ceiling and decorative coving and other plaster work on the walls and ceiling in the style of flowers and vines. Sam showed her how to use all the electronic devices to control the temperature, including that of the floor. He then showed her the en suite bathroom with jacuzzi and sauna.

  “You must be hungry after your flight,” Sam said after he'd finished showing her around.

  “A little,” she replied. “But first I'd like to talk to you about why I'm here this month.”

  “I thought that was obvious,” he commented.

  “Oh! and what’s obvious?” she asked him with a firm look.

  “You’re here to determine if I'm sane enough to lead my own company and not have it taken over by men who only see numbers and figures, rather than the actual totality of things. Men whose idealism only goes as far as their bank balances, who would have mankind stagnate within the dark ages so long as it protected the good name of their fortunes.”

  Jenna gave him a strange look, turned to her case, which sat on the bed, and began unzipping it.

  “That's not really it,” she said without turning back to him. “But the impassioned speech was a nice touch!” She then turned from her unpacking and once again faced Sam. “What would you say,” she began, “if I told you that you do have friends within the company?”

  “I'd reply that I know that. But that these friends aren't enough to fend off my enemies. Without my majority share, I would be obliterated. They would have me locked in a lab inventing killing machines for the world’s military superpowers.”

  “Another impassioned speech,” Jenna put to him. “You have a knack for them. If you'd simply drop your defenses a little, though, you'd find out that I’m here primarily to help you, Sam. Yes, I’m aware that over the next month, my job is to assess you, but it’s also to offer you help in understanding how to cope and—”

  “I know how to cope, Mrs. Blackwell,” Sam snapped angrily.

  As he stood there with a slightly vexed look on his face, Sam abruptly went red from his outburst, his expression softening, and the two stood facing each other for a moment, gazing into each others eyes, a storm of tension rising up between them, Jenna a little taken aback.

  As the tension reached a crescendo, Sam apologized, said his goodbyes and left Jenna to unpack.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Laughter permeated the air around the table as Claire, Paul, Beth and Will had dinner in Claire’s apartment. Will was telling a story about his and Beth’s noisy neighbors living above them. At night, he and Beth would often be awoken by the loud sounds of the couple making love right above their heads. However, that wasn’t the hilarious part. The real comedy to the story lay in the fact that the erotic couple living above them was at least seventy!

  “I mean,” Will was saying as the others giggled uncontrollably, “I see them sometimes coming back from the grocery store and I offer to help them carry their bags up to their apartment. They’re all thankful and just let me get on with it. But when I hear them at night, I think to myself, ‘What a load of bullshit! That old bastard could carry me up to his apartment, let alone those grocery bags!’ Sometimes it lasts for up to an hour! I think maybe they’re not so old—maybe they’re in their thirties and just look old because of all the sex!”

  Everyone burst out in roaring laughter again.

  Through his laughter, Paul inquired, “Are you sure they’re not just doing something else?”

  Will looked at him from across the table with wide eyes and exclaimed, “What…like…DIY? Hammering the same spot over and over all night? I think not.”

  “It could be some kind of hobby the old man’s doing,” Paul added with a smile. “His little study room could be above your bed. He could be sawing something in a vice.”

  “What about the loud groaning noises then?” Beth asked Paul.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he watches porn while he works!”

  “Who watches porn while they make model airplanes?” Will burst out.

  “My old man for one,” Paul put to him.

  “You’re father watches porn while working in his study?” Claire asked from beside Paul.

  “Ah, man!” Paul let out, bowing his head and shaking it, regretting instantly that he’d said it.

  “No, Paul, do continue,” Will said. “This little piece of family drama is intriguing. Do tell us more about your father’s masturbation habits.”

  Paul went red, but grinned widely at the same time.

  “I let that one out, didn’t I?” he added.

  “Yes you did,” the others all said together, sniggering as they did.

  “Well, my old man, being a doctor,” Paul started with his recounting of this particular piece of Bishop family history, “has his own study and you can’t blame the guy for spending so much time in there, it’s the only place that he’s got away from me, my ma and my three brothers. So it’s kinda his little place of solitude. But one day the poor bastard forgot to lock the door and my mom caught him masturbating.”

  “NO!” was the general exclamation around the table.

  “Yup,” Paul agreed with a shrug. “She caught him plugging one off over some porn video he was watching on his little portable on his desk.”

  “Man, I feel for your old man,” Will said. “I know his pain.”

  “You know his pain?” Claire asked Will incredulously.

  “My own ma caught me masturbating,” Will confessed.

  “Is that true?” Claire asked Beth.

  “Yep,” she nodded with a mocking smile.

  “What did she say?” Paul asked.

  “We never spoke of it,” Will admitted.

  “But surely she said something,” Claire inquired.

  “I didn’t even see her.”

  “How so?”

  “Well,” Will continued with a guilty smile, “I was watching some porn in my room on my TV and listening to the sound through the headphones. I was sitting in front of the television, Mittsy and Mindy being nasty in front of me, listening to their moans through the headphones, and beating my meat! Then when it finished, I got up, cleaned myself off with some tissues and went to the wardrobe. It was then, as I passed my bed, that I saw a basket of clean laundry on there that hadn’t been there earlier.”

  “NO!!” Claire and Paul let out, Beth simply nodding, knowing the story all too well.

  “I checked the door,” Will went on, “and I’d made the same error your old man had, Paul—I hadn’t locked it!”

  “No way,” Paul let out. “And your mom, she never said a word?”

  “Never a word. Although I think it was at least a year until we were able to look one another in the eye again!”

  The table once more howled with laughter.

  Not long after, Paul had to leave. He had an exam the next morning and needed an early night. He said his goodbyes and was on his way. This left the others to clean up, and once they were in the kitchen talk soon turned to Claire and Paul.

  “He’s a really nice guy,” Will was saying as he dried up a casserole dish.

  “I think Will may have a crush on him,” Beth joked.

  “No, I really do. I mean he’s ob
viously a damn sight better than the jerk that knocked you up.”

  “Will!” Beth cried as she smacked her boyfriend on the arm. “You don’t have to be so crude.”

  “It’s okay, Beth,” Claire said with a smile.

  “Sorry, Claire,” Will apologized. “You know I’m useless with words. But what I mean is, that Paul’s a good guy. He’s stuck by you through all of this and he clearly thinks the Earth orbits Claire Prior and not the sun!”

  “I thought the world did revolve around me,” Claire remarked.

  “Never!” Will declared, taking ahold of Beth in his arms and swinging her around the kitchen. “That title belongs to my love, Bethykins!”

  He began kissing Beth’s neck from behind, making her giggle.

  A half-hour later the kitchen was clean and the three were now sitting in the lounge watching television. Claire was on one end of the couch and Will and Beth were cuddled up on the other. They were watching some science fiction movie, one which Will was immersed in, but one that the girls weren’t so bothered about. As he sat glued to the set, the girls kept chatting away in whispered tones, Will shushing them every so often.

  “Be honest,” Beth was whispering to Claire, “do you like Paul in that way?”

  “I don’t know,” Claire replied. “I have feelings for him and I look forward to him coming over, but it’s not a feeling that makes my heart stop.”

  “I think you’re fantasizing a little, Claire. I mean, you’re talking about something that just doesn’t happen nine times out of ten. You could look for that feeling for the rest of your life without even coming within touching distance of it.”

  “But I did have it once, Beth.”

  “That was different. You were overawed by the situation. I mean…” Beth cocked an eye at Will, before continuing, “Because of who he was.”

  “Who was he?” Will asked blankly as he stared at the screen, shoveling handfuls of popcorn into his mouth.

  Beth grabbed a handful from the bowl and shoved it into his mouth.

  “Watch your film,” she said once she’d silenced her boyfriend. She then turned back to Claire and went on, “The work in the hospice made you vulnerable. You were in a sad place, anything that offered you relief would seem like a light bursting inside of you in such a place. That’s all it was—an interlude.”

  “It doesn’t feel like an interlude,” Claire said, nodding her head toward her swollen belly, her hands instinctively wrapped around it.

  Beth groaned.

  “You know what I mean,” she said. “But even that—as sad as it is—will be over soon and you’ll be free to carry on.”

  “Not unless I keep it.”

  “What?!” Beth exclaimed. “What about your career?”

  “I don’t know. The more I feel my baby inside of me, the more I wonder whether giving it away is the right thing to do.”

  “But your ma. How’re you gonna explain where a kid came from? You’ve spent the last eight months keeping it away from her. Do you know how much she’s missed you in that time? My ma’s been calling me up every day asking if I know anything about things. You know when me and Will get back tomorrow, the first thing that’ll happen is my phone’ll go and it’ll be mom wanting to know how you are so she can go straight back to June with the information. And after all that, you’re gonna turn up holding a kid and say ‘Dadah!’ like some magic trick!”

  “I don’t know,” Claire let out. “I haven’t really thought it over.”

  “Look, sweetie,” Beth said softly, placing her hand on Claire’s arm, “it’s only to be expected that over the course of the pregnancy you’re gonna develop an incredibly strong bond, and I’m sure that when it’s done, you’ll cry for weeks. But you made a decision. You wouldn’t terminate the baby, but you couldn’t raise it and expect to give you or the child the best chance in life. The baby would be better off with a couple who had the resources to raise it, rather than you giving up everything and living off your parents. That way you’d be better off by going back to college and being the best damned doctor in America.”

  “I know, Beth,” Claire mumbled a little tearily. “I know. But it’s a nice dream isn’t it?”

  “Oh, sweetie,” Beth let out as Claire leaned up against her.

  “Shh!” Will snapped.

  “Shush yourself!” Beth retorted.

  The three then spent the rest of the evening cuddled up on the couch until it was time to go to bed. It was the last night of Beth and Will’s visit and Claire felt sad as she undressed that night all alone in her room. Lately she’d been very lonely at night. Paul still wasn’t spending nights around her apartment, but in the last few weeks it had been very hard for Claire not to ask him to stay over. She began going over her friend’s words on the subject and she agreed with parts of what Beth had had to say.

  She realized that a part of her wasn’t over Sam yet and that was why she couldn’t properly feel a place in her heart for Paul. Like she’d said earlier, she really enjoyed his company and looked forward to his visits. Surely this was a sign. She’d felt so cruel lately when she’d sent him home. He was always there for her no matter what. Perhaps he wasn’t particularly what she wanted, but he was certainly what she needed.

  She went to bed that night with thoughts of Paul in her head, wondering whether she shouldn’t allow this sweet young man into her heart.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  It was the day of Margot and Claude’s wedding. Jules, of course, was acting as both best man and father of the bride, and was currently standing behind Claude. Juliette, who was maid of honor, was behind Margot. The bride and groom were standing facing each other, Claude delicately holding Margot’s hand, the ring on her finger—a solitary sapphire on a band of 24 carat white gold—a pastor standing in front of them performing the service. They were all standing within a large arch of blue tiger lilies that were woven into a white wooden structure. Jules and Claude were dressed in white suits, rolled up at the trouser leg as they stood barefoot in the sand, white shirts and pink ties. Margot was in a simple Chanel white satin dress, a string of pearls around her neck, matching earrings glinting in her ears. Juliette wore a beautiful white dress covered in prints of red roses.

  Margot was saying her wedding vows.

  “Claude,” she was saying, “when I first met you on that beach in Cambodia I could have never thought that this rough Frenchman would ever be my soul mate. You were another cocky European beach bum to me, but a very cute one. I thought that it would be a couple of nights of passion and no more. But it didn’t end there, and over the years a flame has grown inside of me, and with each new sun, that flame becomes even brighter. I promise that I will always be there by your side as your wife, as your lover and as your soul mate. I promise to always nurture that flame burning brightly inside of me. Claude, you are my soul mate, my lover, my everything, and I am honored that you will be my husband.”

  “Margot,” Claude began, “the first time I saw you walking in your bikini toward me on that beach, I thought that an angel had dropped from the sky. I was a lonely man when the sun had risen that day, but by sunset I was in love. I became intoxicated by you the moment I first fell into your company and felt a need to feel your light in my life. At times, our love felt a little too strong for me and we argued. These moments made me feel hollow when I contemplated losing you. You, Margot, made me want to be better. You made me want to improve myself and lead a better life. There is no better compliment than the influence you have had on my life and the way that you make me want me to be a better person, not just for myself, but mostly for you, my love. For the rest of my life I will honor you always and seek to live better for you.”

  After that, the priest pronounced them man and wife and the two kissed passionately under the blue-flowered arch. Several passersby, who’d stopped to watch the ceremony, began clapping and wolf-whistling. Claude had Margot in his arms as they kissed and he leaned her back so that her leg kicked up in the air, and the
people clapped louder.

  Soon, the priest had left and the four friends were around Margot’s swimming pool that sat at the side of her huge Malibu beachside mansion. Claude and Jules were busy in front of the barbecue while Margot and Juliette lay on sunloungers at the pool’s edge.

  “So what now Mrs. Dugarry?” Juliette asked her friend as they lay sipping cocktails.

  Margot peeked over at Claude who stood chatting with Jules, sipping beer and prodding the sizzling meat on the grill.

  Turning back to Juliette, she said, “I’ve been seeing a gynecologist the past couple of weeks. We get the results tomorrow.”

  “You were being honest when you said you wanted to try for a baby then?”

  “Of course,” Margot replied. “We have all this”—she signaled the house and its luxurious garden with her arms—“it’s only right that we have the pitter-patter of tiny feet running around it. Plus, Claude has his place back in France and it would be nice to take some children to Europe and show them the culture there.”

  “How long have you been trying?”

  “I stopped my contraceptive over a month ago, but still nothing. That’s why I went to see a gynecologist. Claude’s been to a fertility doctor as well.”

  “Well, I’d offer you my old womb, but I’m afraid it’s long since dried up!”

  The two friends laughed for a moment before going back to their cocktails.

  Meanwhile, at the barbecue Jules and Claude talked over the smoldering meat.

  “So you two planning a honeymoon?” Jules was asking.

  “No. After so much traveling, staying still will be our honeymoon. Anyway, we’re trying for a family, so we need to stay still for the foreseeable future.”

  “That’s awesome news, Claude,” Jules said raising his beer to the other. “A kid makes you complete, man. When we had Danny we were never happier and more together.”

  “I don’t know; you’re pretty tight now,” Claude contested. “I mean, even after all that time you spent apart when you were inside. Neither of you speaking. You let all that go and just forgave her. You’re a good man, Jules. A good man. That’s real love.”