An I.O.U. from a Billionaire

by Olivia B. Dannon

  Joan covered her red cheeks and mouth with her hand. “I’m so embarrassed. I guess I’m very loud during moments of… passion,” she said.

  “If you’re certain you don’t need help?”

  “I’m certain.”

  The manager exhaled. “Well, I’m glad. I do have to ask that you please take your bed play down in volume. If your room wasn’t reserved by Francine Wainwright herself I’d be kicking you both out. One more complaint of noise and I’ll have no choice. Do we understand each other?” the manager asked looking at Liam.

  “Yes.” Liam pulled on his shirt buttoning it quickly. “Thank you very much. We’ll be very quiet.”

  The manager nodded and approached the door.

  “Let me walk you out,” Liam said. “I’ll be right back,” he told Joan.

  When he stepped back out into the hallway and closed the door behind himself, Liam spotted Joan’s father standing in the same place where he last stood. Everyone else had returned to their beds clearing the hallway.

  Liam withdrew a bill from his wallet and shook the manager’s hand, acting as if he didn’t see Joan’s father standing there. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t let this get out about me and Ms. Thurston. I am currently engaged, as you’ve probably heard.”

  “Yes,” the manager said, his voice flat. “I will keep my mouth shut as long as you make certain to use a different hotel for your future dalliances. This isn’t that kind of place.”

  “Thank you.” Liam smiled. “I’ll let my mother know what a fantastic manager Harmony Suites employs.”

  “You son of a bitch.” Mr. Taylor roared tackling Liam and taking him down hard.

  This is not how I saw this going.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Liam said holding his hands up. Mr. Taylor punched him in the mouth.

  “No, stop that this instant.” The manager cried out. “Be quiet.”

  Liam blocked another punch. “Stop, you don’t understand.”

  “You’re cheating on my daughter.” Mr. Taylor growled his hands gripping Liam’s shirt and shaking him hard enough to knock his head on the ground.

  “No, I’m not.” Liam growled back rolling and throwing Joan’s father off.

  “Ms. Thurston? That’s not my Joan.”

  Liam held his hands up again catching the kick Mr. Taylor threw and yanked him off his feet. “It’s an alias,” Liam said around his rapidly swelling lip.

  Mr. Taylor halted, breathing hard. “An alias?”

  “Yes.” Liam tasted blood and touched his split lip.

  “You son of a bitch.” Mr. Taylor launched at him again.

  Liam caught off guard couldn’t block the blow to his already blackened eye. “Dammit, Taylor. I said it’s an alias. I’m not cheating.”

  “I heard you,” he said wrapping his hands around Liam’s neck. “What were you doing to my little girl to make her scream like that?”

  Fuck.

  “No, no, no choking! There has never been a murder here,” the manager yelled pulling Mr. Taylor back by his shirt.

  Liam threw his elbow across his body breaking the choke hold. Mr. Taylor fell forward as the manager ripped the back of his shirt off in his attempt to pull him back.

  “You think you can use my little girl?” Mr. Taylor pressed his knee into Liam’s twig and berries.

  Pain followed by a crushing wave of nausea had Liam curling forward. He drove his shoulder into Taylor’s chest knocking him off and onto his back.

  “Gene, what are you doing? Stop that this instant,” a woman said clapping her hands together.

  “Yes. Thank you.” The manager panted.

  Liam was curled up still trying not to hurl as he looked up at the woman who must be Joan’s mom.

  “Aren’t you… Fran’s son? Liam?”

  “He’s the smart-mouthed P.O.S. I told you about,” Gene Taylor said rolling onto his stomach to push up to his knees.

  Joan’s mom shook her head. “I can’t believe you attacked him. Just because you’re against the wedding doesn’t give you any right to use violence, Gene. You know better.”

  Gene’s face darkened as he looked at Liam, but he didn’t say a word about Joan’s orgasmic screaming.

  “It’s fine.” Liam bit out. “I’m sure I deserved it.”

  “Damn right.” Gene groused.

  The manager grabbed Liam’s arm and helped him to his feet. “So, you won’t be pressing charges. Right, Mr. Wainwright?”

  Another wave of nausea filled him. “I will if I’m rendered impotent.”

  “It’ll be worth it and nothing would make me happier.” Gene smiled.

  Liam closed his eyes cradling his nuts. “Old bastard.” He growled.

  “Watch it, young man,” she said waving her finger at him. “No ugly language please. Let’s go back to our room and work this out.”

  “I think tomorrow would be better. A talk isn’t what I’ve got planned for the rest of the night,” Liam said.

  Somewhere there is a bag of ice waiting to numb my crushed eggs and sausage.

  “She’s right.” Gene barked. “You’re coming to our suite to talk this out.”

  “Absolutely,” Mrs. Taylor said taking hold of his elbow. “I just don’t know what got into Gene. He’s usually such a patient, peaceful man,” she said leading him down the hallway.

  ***

  Joan waited a moment after Liam stepped out. The skin on her face was burning from the heat of her embarrassment, or maybe from her cries of pleasure.

  Liam is going to be telling this story for the rest of his life. Joan rolled her eyes. I’ll forever be the woman he screwed so hard people thought I was being murdered. Fantastic.

  She climbed the stairs and decided a soak in the tub was called for. After what she’d done with Liam she was likely to be sore if she didn’t.

  Joan filled the tub with warm water and bubbles. The heat of the water was perfection. She was practically purring as she relaxed. A thud and loud clap sounded. At least she thought she heard noises. Sitting up she wiped the bubbles from her ears.

  Listening for further noise she waited but didn’t hear anything. “Must have been the bubbles.” She sighed sinking back into the tub. Joan took her time enjoying the hot soak, but as she began to dry off, she wondered why Liam hadn’t joined her.

  “You’re probably so tired you fell asleep,” she said feeling pretty drowsy herself. Joan walked through the bedrooms and then down the stairs. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

  Is he still talking with the manager?

  Joan opened the door and looked out into the hallway. It was empty and quiet.

  Maybe I locked him out? He didn’t have a key. That’s what that noise must have been.

  “Great, Joan.” She groaned as she shut the door again. “He must have gone home.” Feeling depressed that he wasn’t going to stay with her and hold her tonight was silly, except no matter how she tried to reason with herself, she still felt abandoned.

  Why didn’t he call the room? Why didn’t he get the manager to open the door?

  She jogged up the stairs to the second floor again.

  He didn’t want to stay. Liam got what he wanted and left. You’re so stupid, Joan. So utterly and completely stupid.

  Joan pulled back the blankets on the bed and flopped on top of the bed face down. She groaned into the mattress wondering why she’d let him in the suite.

  I should’ve just let my dad yell at him. I should’ve let him get his picture all over the front pages again.

  Rolling onto her back she pulled the blanket up around her.

  Maybe he went to get us something to eat?

  She was picturing chocolate as she drifted to sleep.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  “How did you end up in the hotel this evening, Liam? We were hoping to meet you at your parent’s home earlier this evening,” Mrs. Taylor asked him.

  Liam began to answer as he noticed Gene put his finger to his lips and then scratched his nose when
his wife looked at him. “I’m in the doghouse. I missed the engagement dinner, missed meeting you. Joan is understandably upset with me. It’s the closest hotel to my parent’s home so I booked a room here.”

  “Mmm hmm,” Mrs. Taylor responded. “Doesn’t explain why the two of you were scuffling in the hallway, or where you got that black eye. Gene couldn’t have blackened your eye that fast.”

  Gene leaned forward. “He called me an old bastard, and I decided to show him what this old bastard could do. That’s all.”

  Mrs. Taylor exhaled the same way Joan did when she was aggravated. “I know you didn’t just run out there and attack him for name calling. Short temper or not, Gene, I know you. You’re not a violent man.”

  “Yes, well it’s not every day you find out your baby girl is marrying a play around loser she’s known for less time than she’d keep leftovers in a fridge.”

  “Your definition of loser is lost on me.” Liam grunted out. His eye was really starting to ache and since the adrenaline from the fight was wearing off, exhaustion from no sleep in the past forty-eight hours evaporated his willpower to remain patient. “I built my fortune for myself, use my brain to create things that save people, and I’m a very generous man.”

  “You’re a spoiled, puffed up pup with no regard for family or tradition. I looked you up you know.” Gene pointed at him. “You’re a drunk. Don’t deny it or tell me it’s behind you. It runs in your blood. You started a drunken brawl at that benefit with my daughter right there only a few nights ago.”

  Liam stared at Gene, hating the picture he was painting. It was in his blood, and Liam couldn’t deny that alcohol had played a part in his punching that handsy doctor.

  “It was before my engagement with Joan. I regret my actions that evening, most of them anyway. While it’s no excuse for drinking, or resorting to violence, that night I was struggling with my feelings for Joan.”

  Gene made a rude noise in the back of his throat.

  “Stop that, Gene. I want to hear what he has to say.” She turned back to Liam. “You’ve had many, many girlfriends, Liam. I have to admit I’m worried for my little girl too. What is different this time? Why rush into a marriage? You’re both still quite young, you have time.”

  Liam looked at Mrs. Taylor seeing Joan’s eyes. It would almost be like he was telling Joan how he felt about her, something he had not yet dared to do

  Well. Here goes.

  “After I lost my mother, I was angry. I was young and stupid. People I thought were friends turned out not to be friends at all, just fans of money. Trust is something I learned not to give.”

  The smile that won over Liam’s lips had nothing to do with the current situation and everything to do with Joan. “Then this woman in pink boots and a navy dress stomps into my life. She doesn’t want to be my friend, she isn’t impressed by my wealth, and has no trouble telling me how arrogant she finds me. She battles me at every turn and calls me out on every wrong turn I make. I didn’t know what to think of her.”

  Liam rubbed his good eye trying to stifle the flow of honesty coming out of him. Fatigue was acting like a truth serum. “She saves my brother’s life and drops everything to make sure he’s safe until we can get him to a hospital.” He stared at the table remembering. “I had no idea at the time that she was actually trying to race back to save her job. A job she loves. That makes what she did even more unbelievable. Doesn’t it?”

  A laugh tumbled from Liam’s chest full of his disbelief. “But that’s Joan, isn’t it? Doing the impossible. She wins my trust while at the same time cleaning me out over a poker game. She shows me the astronomical difference and value between beauty and elegance just by sitting in the same room as my ex-girlfriend.”

  Mrs. Taylor was smiling at him, sitting tall and perched on the edge of her seat while Gene continued to frown at him.

  “Meeting Joan wasn’t in my plans. Falling in love with her was impossible to avoid. I was still fighting how I felt about her at the benefit. When that handsy doctor started saying what he did, I couldn’t let him disrespect Joan. Again, I know that violence was the wrong way to go.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better. You’re sitting there with a black eye right now.”

  “Shut up, Gene. I just peeled you off of Liam in the hallway and you weren’t even drunk.”

  “True. Good point, Mrs. Taylor,” Liam said as he stood.

  “Nope, you sit back down. I’m going to get you some ice for your eye, and then you’re going to tell me about how you got it,” Mrs. Taylor said and started for the kitchen. “And just call me Brooke. I dislike going by my last name after all the doctors and bad news I’ve received under that title,” she said as she disappeared into the kitchen.

  Gene leaned forward. “You are not marrying my daughter.”

  “I understand why you feel that way,” Liam responded. “Like I told you on the phone, no man is good enough for any father’s little girl. Fact is though, she said “yes.” It will hurt her if you’re not at the wedding. If you can’t bring yourself to attend, I will of course smooth things over for her.”

  “This entire floor heard the way you smooth things over.” Gene banged on the tabletop with his fist.

  Brooke returned with the ice. “I leave for less than a minute and you two are already fighting again.” She handed Liam two ice packs and one to Gene.

  Liam put one ice pack on his eye and held the other wondering if it would be too rude to put the other on his crotch.

  “I still don’t understand what the rush is all about. I can accept you’re in love with Joan. She’s an amazing woman. Why wouldn’t you fall in love with her? Are you afraid she’ll change her mind? That she’ll discover you’re not as great as you pretend to be?” Brooke asked reminding him again of Joan and her straightforward nature.

  No. It’s because I’m the selfish bastard Gene thinks I am.

  He decided not to tell them that. Besides, it wasn’t like he and Joan were actually getting married. “Why wait when you know who you’re meant to be with?” Liam asked. “Besides, you’ve already made the trip out here.”

  “We don’t mind traveling,” Brooke said.

  Gene rubbed his tired eyes, reminding Liam how tired and sleep deprived he himself was. “If Joan wishes to postpone the wedding then we will of course change the date.” Liam stood again, this time walking straight for the door. If he didn’t get moving he’d spend what was left of the night answering their questions.

  Since he’d much rather be wrapped around Joan, it was time to get out. “I look forward to seeing both of you tomorrow at Wainwright Manor. Hopefully by then we will have all had the rest we need. Goodnight.”

  As he stalked down the hall toward Joan’s suite his phone rang. He pulled out the phone since it was Evelyn’s ringtone. “Tell me you have good news.”

  “We found Alise.”

  “Great. Where?”

  “You’d never guess where. She’s here in Scottsdale, but Liam, we can’t get her to answer or come out.”

  Liam looked longingly at Joan’s shut door. “It’s late. Perhaps she’s sleeping. We’ll try her at a decent hour.”

  “Liam. We got them to open the door but Alise won’t come out and talk to us. She told them she’d only talk to you. You have to get down here.”

  “I can’t. Just send in a phone so she’ll talk to her father.”

  Evelyn blew a sound of great annoyance into the phone. “I’m not inept, Liam. We’ve tried to persuade her. She said she’s not talking to her dad until she talks to you first.”

  Liam had his hand on the doorknob. “Get the guy who answered the door to give her your phone. I’ll talk to her.”

  “I’ll try it.” He could hear her knocking on the door. It opened and the voices were muffled as he strained to hear what was being said. A few minutes passed by with him leaning on the doorknob. Liam didn’t want to bring Alise’s drama back to Joan.

  At last her voice came across the
line. “I have to talk to you in person, not on the phone.”

  “Alise, your father is very worried about you. Just call him and I’ll be there tomorrow.”

  “I’m not calling my dad until you and I have spoken face to face.” The call dropped when Alise hung up from her end and he seethed into the phone.

  He turned the knob but it was locked. If he knocked then he would wake her just to tell her he was leaving. No. He wouldn’t do that. Joan had to be just as tired as he was. He’d fly to Scottsdale, talk to Alise and then fly back before Joan woke up. Then he could crawl into bed with her and keep her there until the wedding.

  ***

  Her heavy eyelids cracked open as the sound of the alarm clock registered. “No, not yet.” Joan grumbled at the clock. The alarm of course continued.

  “Curse the man that invented the alarm clock, and all his house.” She growled climbing out of bed and reaching the clock she’d set across the room from the bed.

  The time in red digital numbers told her it was just after eight in the morning. She pressed the off button remembering where she was as she did. Scanning the room, Joan found no evidence of Liam.

  Maybe he’s sleeping on the couch downstairs. He probably didn’t want to disturb me.

  Joan washed her face and brushed her teeth.

  Her parents were early risers and if she was going to beat them to the Wainwrights, Joan had to keep moving. She dug into the suitcase of bagged outfits. Even though the clothes were beautiful, they weren’t actually hers, and the novelty of it had worn off.

  She’d much rather pull on a pair of her favorite jeans and a top that she’d picked out on her own, one that fit her personality. She felt like such an imposter in the navy-blue palazzo pants and white halter blouse. It was as close to jeans as she was going to get and the only outfit in the suitcase that wasn’t a skirt or dress.

  The flat white sandals made her smile. At least she wouldn’t have to keep taking off her shoes today.

  Since she had a mirror and a few extra minutes she quickly put on some makeup to cover the dark crescent moons forming under her eyes from lack of sleep. Then she’d spotted a pretty shade of pink coral lipstick and put that on as well.