Plain Jane and the Billionaire (Plain Jane Series)

by Tmonique Stephens

  “Would you like the tour of the rest of the boat now?” Sam asked. Julius declined in favor of being shown to their suites. Good because Calista had enough of Erica hanging all over Julius like a rash.

  A crewman guided Joshua to a room on the opposite side of the boat, while Sam guided Julius and Erica to her room in the rear of the ship, away from the master suite at the front of the boat, which was occupied by his friends.

  Calista spotted the two men who were Julius’ guests in the atrium on the owner’s deck, which looked down into the main salon dining and living space. Scotts hadn’t exaggerated. Hank and Emmet were two scary mofos. Armed stone-cold killers in their tailored suits, especially the older guy. They made her spine freeze and she’d been in their presence for a split second. The female, Calista spotted her strolling around the boat, trying to not appear lost. Calista couldn’t help her. She knew as much about the boat as the female, and whatever excitement she had about the yacht vanished after Erica exited the limo.

  Calista heard the steady tread of his footsteps shortly after Sam showed her to her room on the mid-deck. It was nice, no window, but it had a small porthole. She had no complaints about the queen-size bed, the adequate closet, or the smallish bathroom. None. At. All.

  “Enter,” Calista said when he knocked on the door. She sat in one of two comfortable leather chairs, her feet up and perched on the end of the bed.

  Julius paused in the doorway, shades gone, his gaze brushed from the top of her head to her sensible shoes, then shifted back to her eyes. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

  He got one point for not insulting her intelligence but she wouldn’t make it easy. “Tell me what I’m thinking.”

  He came into the room, closing the door behind him, and repositioned the spare chair opposite her. “Erica Bryn is the acting CEO of a Bryn Conglomerate. Lynda needs a merger with that company to save Morgan International and her ass. Without Erica Bryn and her company, Lynda will be out on her ass. It’s her last-ditch effort. That means I need that company to snatch Morgan International away from her and take it over with a clean slate.”

  It sounded good on paper. Made complete sense. And that was the problem. “This is your chance to get your inheritance back.”

  His eyes gleamed, pleased that she understood. “It’s all I’ve wanted since my father’s death.”

  “It’s your endgame. The one thing you’ve been working toward. Your one goal.”

  He nodded.

  “And you’d do anything to achieve it.” A cold lump expanded in her chest. A man who was willing to do anything to achieve his goal would do exactly that, anything, regardless of the collateral damage. Namely her.

  “No. Not anything.” He leaned forward and took her hands. “Erica is here because she thinks she can play me and Joshua against each other. She can’t because this isn’t a game and we’re not interested.”

  “Joshua?” What did he have to do with this?

  “He wants his mother out as much as I do.”

  Skeptical, she scoffed. “Why? It’s his mother.”

  “Deep-seated resentment. She wants to keep him a child and not let him play with all his toys. Not sure why or what happened. He’s not sharing, and I can’t force the issue. We are not exactly close.”

  “Except you two are close enough to remove his mother.” It didn’t seem plausible.

  “Lynda initially brought Erica and Joshua together. She wanted a merger and a marriage. Old family. New money. Joshua and Erica. The Morgans bring the money. The Bryns bring the old name, connections Lynda could never get, the history she wants but it’s unattainable. She will always be that poor white trash scrabbling her way out of poverty by marrying up. Those doors are closed to her and will be forever.”

  Her stomach knotted in sympathy. She understood what it felt like to be on the other side of a closed door desperate to break it down.

  “Erica was all over you, Julius.” She pointed out because she needed it out in the open. She refused to pretend she had cataracts and didn’t see what her 20/20 vision caught. Calista Coleman would never be that “see no evil” woman when the facts had bitch slapped her.

  A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Nothing happened between us and nothing will. She’s here to close a deal. Nothing more.”

  The small bit of relief wasn’t enough to unravel her tangled stomach. “Does she know that?”

  Abruptly, he stood, his gaze heavy, his features stony, he loomed over her. “She knows because I’ve done nothing to encourage anything else.”

  But did he discourage it? Did he make it clear the only deal on the table was a merger between their companies, not their genitals? Calista wanted to know, yet did she have a right to ask? They traded “I love yous,” not promises to be exclusive. In her mind the two were conjoined, not separate entities. “I love you” meant dick and pussy were on lockdown except for the person holding the key to your heart. She was old-fashioned that way.

  She’d never considered herself a jealous woman. But she’d never been in love. She’d loved, just not the burning, consuming, could barely think about anything other than being with him kind. That was the way she felt about Julius. Palms sweaty, butterflies in the stomach, heart palpations at the sight of him, anticipation of his touch, his kiss, his breath in her lungs, their bodies merging.

  Discipline got her through their separation, and pride. She refused to be a needy girlfriend requiring hourly texts and regular check-ins. That was when she thought she was a girlfriend, oh, about an hour ago. She assumed…presumed way too much. What else could she think after they’d both declared their love and made love. Not sex. Not fucked. He made love to her. She made love to him. Three days later, he had his hands on Erica Bryn, his honored guest on his yacht.

  “I’m taking a meeting in the lounge off the conference room. Meckler and Newson are delayed, got caught in traffic from the airport on the way to the helicopter. The office is faxing a contract to the security office. I didn’t want it sent to the fax in the master suite. Bring it to me.” He headed to the exit, then paused and looked at her over his shoulder.

  Was that a sliver of concern? Guilt? Maybe regret? It was gone too quickly for Calista to be certain.

  “Please,” he tacked on softly, his brown eyes taking on a puppy dog tilt, weakening her cold-hearted resolve to remain unaffected, then he left.

  Slowly, she unclenched her hands from her lap and unfurled her body from the chair. She went to the bathroom and smoothed her hair, adjusted the collar of her shirt and her jacket, and added a quick refresh of her barely-there lip gloss. She wasn’t pretty, knew it her entire life. Never had she compared herself to anyone because physical beauty had no importance in her life. She was comfortable in her skin and appreciated her sharp jaw, full lips, breasts, and hips. All of her flaws made her who she was and she wouldn’t change a thing even if she could.

  Stride confident, she exited her quarters. The first deckhand she ran into provided directions back to the security office on the upper level. On the fax machine waited the papers Julius wanted delivered. Quickly she scanned through the pages and discovered it was an IOU contract. Two pages of you owe me until I decide to collect. She thought he and Emmet were friends. Friends who needed a contract. Strange, but who was she to judge when her only friend was her cousin.

  She gathered the pages, placed them in a folder, and exited the room to find Julius striding down the hallway from the direction of Erica’s room. Jealousy gnawing her insides, she watched his approach. He’d spotted her, hard to miss in the hallway. No falter in his steps, no guilt in his stride. Yet, the gnawing continued to worm its way through her gut.

  He didn’t ask if she was ready before entering the conference room. Hank and Emmet were there, seated in leather chairs at an oak table polished to a high shine. They were locked in a heated argument about a wedding of all things. By the amount of violence simmering in the air, she was surprised blood hadn’t been spilled from bullet holes. Young k
iller was fucking old killer’s daughter. Brave man. She kept her features neutral and handed over the contract when Julius sat and extended his hand. “That’s all, Ms. Coleman.”

  No introduction this time. Interesting, she mused, spinning on her low heels and striding from the room. Was that because Julius didn’t want her to know them for her protection, or he didn’t want them to know her for his protection? Or she wasn’t important enough for an introduction. He’d introduced her to everyone else, why not the two professionals in the room.

  Purposely, she gripped the knob and pulled the door closed, then eased it back open and listened. “I need a favor.” Calista heard Julius say. “I can’t tell you what it is because things are…fluid. This is the type of favor where I can’t allow you to refuse, that’s why I’ve brought a contract.” A pregnant pause, then, “I’m not your enemy and I value our friendship. You’re one of the few friends I have. I could’ve gone to someone else, but I came to you because I trust you. Like you trust me, otherwise you wouldn’t be here, sleeping in my master suite that I have yet to see, I might add. Besides, it may not come to me needing you to kill anyone. I like having the option.”

  What did Julius need with the two men who were clearly heavy hitters? The deadly vibes emanating from both men were off the charts. Proceed With Caution. Tread Lightly. Hazardous To Your Health. They needed hazmat stickers slapped on their foreheads.

  What dangerous shit had Julius gotten involved with now? Eavesdropping in the hallway was reckless. Point proven when the elevator dinged, and the chef appeared pushing a cart laden with everything one would find on a breakfast buffet.

  Calista knocked once and opened the door. She didn’t need to help, but she wanted in the room. She wanted another look at the two. The younger—brooding dark looks, intense blue eyes—was more comfortable lounging in the chair opposite Julius, while the older had a permanent scowl etched into his face. By the deep frown lines on his brow and framing his mouth, he’d never smiled a day in his life. Maturity was supposed to bring wisdom and restraint. Boomer was a hair trigger away from shooting someone. That someone being Julius.

  Everything about the men emoted cold, brutal hostility. She wasn’t leaving Julius alone. Not with two hired killers. Helping the chef lay out the buffet stalled her leaving and enabled her to study the men from different angles. Both were armed, though it wasn’t obvious. These two wouldn’t go anywhere without several weapons attached to their bodies. Their suits were expertly tailored, only a professional would guess they were carrying. Who the hell were their tailors? And could she get their number?

  She poured coffee for each man and personally handed Julius his steaming cup. “Is there anything else you may need, Mr. Morgan?” Like her covering his back in a hasty retreat.

  Heat flickered in his eyes. She did put a bit of emphasis on “need.” Her intention wasn’t sexual, but she could see how it could be interpreted that way. At least from a male perspective. She didn’t want to screw him. She wanted to save him. Instead of reaching out for her to save him, his heated gaze slid to her cleavage and stayed. Now was not the time for ogling.

  She waited for his attention to return to her face and acknowledge her pointed glare. The hint of a smile tweaked his mouth. You condescending asshole.

  “No, Ms. Coleman. You may leave.” He tipped his head at the contract and then at the door.

  So much for saving his butt. She left only to meet Erica in the hallway. Her sister had changed into something red and clingy, with no bra to manage the jiggle of her perky breasts and hard nipples. Her strut aggressive, as if she owned the boat, the river, and the land around it. Erica personified arrogance. All the more reason to hate her guts.

  She marched up and halted in front of Calista, her gaze dismissive though she wanted something and had to ask. Her four-inch heels allowed her to meet Calista eyeball to eyeball. Didn’t matter. Calista had thirty, possibly forty pounds on her sister. Most of it muscle. Erica was the definition of wafer-thin with her sharp cheekbones and hungry glare. Maybe an offer of a hamburger and milkshake would calm her down.

  “Where’s Julius?” Erica demanded.

  “In a meeting.” Calista beat her growing hostility into submission and answered.

  Erica pursed her lips, clearly annoyed Julius wasn’t at her beck and call. “Take me to him.”

  Maybe if Erica had said please, Calista would’ve considered the request and used the opportunity to get back in the room. Erica hadn’t said the word. One little syllable. She’d probably never used the word and if she did, it was only because she was out of options. Calista wasn’t her employee. Thank you to every known deity. The two working together would draw blood. She couldn’t, wouldn’t be ordered around by the twenty-four-year-old socialite with more money than sense.

  Calista had one word for Erica Bryn. “No.”

  The surprise on Erica’s face was karmic. “Excuse me?”

  Guess she hadn’t heard the word “no” either. “He is in a meeting. Whatever business he has with you will have to wait until after the meeting.” She stressed “wait,” another word Erica probably wasn’t acquainted with.

  Fuming, Erica spat, “Julius will hear about your rudeness.” She spun on her heels and stalked back to her room. Calista didn’t know how practical those shoes would be once the boat was underway. Though, it would be fun to see Erica skidding on her ass across the upper deck and slide right off the boat. And that’s exactly where she headed. Calista decided to follow to see if her secret wish would come true.

  She made it a few steps away from the conference room when the door slammed open and Emmet stormed out. She plastered herself to the wall, out of the way because he wasn’t stopping. It was move or get mowed down.

  “Emmet, wait!” Julius shouted.

  No go. Emmet kept moving with the old killer dogging his footsteps to the security office. Emmet dragged the seaman manning the monitors out of his chair and took command. Apparently, he hadn’t spent all his time in the master suite. Scotts was still in the room, hand on his weapon. Calista stepped to his side, hoping to control the situation, though she had no idea what the hell had happened.

  “What is he looking for?” Scotts asked.

  “Don’t know.” It was a damn good question as the old killer hovered over Emmet’s shoulder. Who were they looking for, and was that person a threat she had to deal with?

  Turned out to be a runaway girlfriend/daughter. With one killer a boyfriend and the other a father, Calista couldn’t blame the girl for taking the high road and getting the hell out of Dodge. Emmet and Hank took what time they needed to call in favors and disembarked. She’d never been more grateful to see the rear of two people. Five minutes later, she stood at the railing assessing the dock workers and staff begin the process of retracting the gangplank and casting off the lines.

  Time to launch the cruise to nowhere. The theme from The Love Boat, a 1980’s show she’d watch on TVLand network, played in her head. The yacht definitely wasn’t The Love Boat, though it could’ve been if it were her and Julius alone. But they weren’t alone.

  It was time she and Erica had a sibling chat. Awkward! But it needed to be done, the ugly truth needed to see the light of day, especially if she and Julius would be working together. Calista wanted no misunderstandings and clearly defined boundaries. God, she’d never been territorial, now—

  Footsteps rushed behind her, and she turned around to see Joshua’s pained face as he huffed to the railing clutching his phone in a death grip.

  “What’s wrong?” she demanded.

  Not a word as he leaned against the railing and pointed at a limo rolling onto the dock.

  “Who’s that?” she asked, concerned she should call Julius. The answer was yes when Lynda Morgan exited the car, one bodyguard at her side.

  “Fuck!” Joshua mumbled, dragging both hands through his hair. “Knew this was gonna happen. Just didn’t think it would be so soon.” Calista grabbed his arm when he started to
walk away. “I gotta go to her. Tell her myself.”

  She had no idea what was going on or if it was any of her business. But maybe it was Julius’ business. “Let me get your brother.”

  Body trembling, Joshua shook his head. “I put this in motion. I’ll handle it.” He pulled away and headed for the elevator.

  Damn it. She was torn. In the end, she respected his wish and called down to Sunny to tell them to extend the gangplank again. However, he wouldn’t be alone. She’d be right beside him. Together, they rode the elevator to the access point of the yacht. By the time the door opened, Joshua straightened his spine and squared his shoulders. Determination replaced his fear. A suit, a tie, and a haircut was all that stopped him from being a body double for his brother. And thirty pounds of muscle. The “you got this” pep talk she planned wasn’t needed. She let him take the lead, though remained close on his heels.

  Halfway down the gangplank, Sunny joined her, and murmured. “Trouble?”

  “Doubtful?”

  “Then what’s this about?” He sounded annoyed at the prospect of a non-violent encounter with a middle-aged woman and her bodyguard. Though the man did look capable.

  “If I had to guess, Lynda Morgan isn’t ready to release control over her son,” she murmured. “He doesn’t want his big brother involved. We stay close in case anything goes sideways.” Other than harsh words, she doubted more would happen, yet one could never be sure. Either way, it was smart to be prepared. People were treacherous.

  Chapter 40

  One hand on her hip, the other pointing to the open limo door, Lynda Morgan greeted her son. No, “Hi son.” Not an ounce of affection or concern on her face.