The Billionaire's Christmas Miracle (Sweet Billionaires 3)

by Lorana Hoopes

  “Research?” Gwen blinked at him, unsure what he meant.

  “Yes,” he took a sip of his tea before continuing, “in my life, it’s important to know who people are before you hang around them. I’m sure you understand that some people don’t have the best intentions.”

  While she could understand that, her heart sped up at the thought of him digging into her past. Did he know about her parents? Her foster father? All her sordid secrets? “I’m sure you found that I wasn’t after your money.”

  “I did, but um, I had a question for you.”

  She twirled her glass on the table as she thought about whether she wanted to hear his question. If it had to do with her past, chances were she didn’t want to hear it. However, if they were going to try dating, then she would have to let him in sometime. Finally, she lifted her eyes back to him, granting him silent permission to ask his question.

  “There’s a lot of hurt in your past,” he began, and Gwen bit her lip. She hoped he wouldn’t ask for details as she didn’t want to ruin the dinner with her troubled past. “But, you seem to be well-adjusted and content. Can I ask how?”

  It was a fair question and one that had been asked of her many times in the past, but she didn’t know how he would respond to her answer. She took a deep breath as she formulated her response. “God,” she said simply.

  He blinked at her. “I’m sorry, what?”

  She smiled softly. God was the one part of her story she never minded sharing. “God. My parents had been Christians before they died, but I was only twelve. I hit that rebellious teenage streak and was certain I didn’t need God. Every Sunday was a fight to get me to go to church, but they never let me not go. When they died, God had new meaning to me. He became my replacement father and gave me the strength to not only deal with my parents’ death but also everything that came after.”

  Drew leaned back and regarded her for a moment, and Gwen wondered what he was thinking. Had she scared him away with her talk of God? It wouldn’t be the first time, but she was a firm believer that anyone who wouldn’t at least listen to her story was no one she wanted to spend more time dating.

  “I’ve never placed much stock in faith,” Drew said finally. “My parents were holiday Christians at best - Christmas and Easter when they deemed it important enough to attend - but I’ve never met anyone like you. To go through such tragedy and emerge with such strength, well I envy you, and so I’d like to inquire. Would you allow me to attend church with you this Sunday?”

  This time Gwen blinked. She hadn’t been expecting that. For him to have to go or to decide he no longer wanted to see her - that she had been expecting, but attend church with her? It was like a dream come true. “Of course, you can.”

  The waitress returned then with the food, and the conversation stalled while they ate. Gwen couldn’t believe how normal eating with him felt. No one had even seemed to notice him. Did he not get hounded by photographers and the press? Or did that only happen to movie stars?

  “I’d like to do this again.”

  She dragged her focus back to him. “Dinner?”

  “Yes, dinner, dessert, dancing, you name it. I want to spend more time with you. Would you be amenable to that?” Drew pulled a hundred-dollar bill out of his wallet and placed it in the black folder. Gwen hadn’t even noticed the waitress drop it off.

  Amenable. She enjoyed the way the way he spoke. On some people, it would come across like putting on airs, but Drew’s use was so effortless that it must have been part of his upbringing. “Yes, I believe I would be amenable to that,” she responded with a smile.

  “Good.” He stood and held out his hand to her. “What are you doing Saturday?”

  Gwen took his hand, enjoying the feel of his skin against hers. He led the way through the crowded restaurant to the door and pushed it open.

  “As in a few days from now Saturday?” Gwen asked as they stepped outside.

  The dimple re-appeared as a smile stole across his features. “That is the one to which I was referring.”

  “I don’t think I have any plans.”

  “Wonderful.” He dropped her hand for a moment to pull out his cell phone. After tapping out a brief message, he replaced the phone in his pocket and took her hand once again. “I know you have an aversion to being driven, but I promise Manuel is a cautious and distinguished driver. I would like to surprise you, so may we pick you up ten am Saturday morning?”

  Gwen hesitated. Could she give control to someone else? Someone she didn’t know? The thought terrified her; however, she would have to do it someday. Now might be a good time to start.

  “All right. I guess I must let go sometime. I’ll text you my address.”

  Drew grabbed her other hand and held them both against his chest. “I promise it will be worth it. I had a great time tonight.”

  Gwen’s heart thudded loudly. “Me too.” Though only two words, it took great effort to get them out of her mouth. Her lungs felt tight as if they couldn’t get enough air. Their gazes held a moment longer and then a black limo pulled up in front of the parking lot.

  A sigh billowed out of Drew’s lips. “I see my transportation has arrived. Please drive safely.” He brought her hand to his lips, and Gwen watched as he placed a kiss on the back of her hand. His lips were soft, almost like the wings of a butterfly brushing her skin. Tiny goosebumps erupted on her arm. Then Drew winked at her and dropped her hand. “I will see you on Saturday.”

  Gwen nodded and walked to her car. Her whole body tingled. Why did he have such an effect on her?

  Chapter 10

  Gwen yawned and stretched as the light peeked in her window. Tiny particles floated in the ray of light creating a shimmery feel in the air. Her lips twitched into a smile as Gwen experienced a similar feeling throughout her body. The events of the week left her with warm and fuzzy thoughts. Though Drew had been too busy to meet up with her, he had called her every night. She hadn’t thought she and Drew would have anything in common, but he was much more down-to-earth than she had expected.

  She ought to know better. Gwen hated it when people made assumptions about her, especially when they found out about her foster care background. It was odd how quickly people’s views shifted with that tidbit of knowledge. Those who couldn’t hide their response would do one of two things: they would apologize to her as if the experience had to have been awful or they would look for some excuse to get away from her as if she was contagious. The people who tried to hide their reaction were often worse. They would tense up and shower her with pitying looks and head shakes.

  Gwen knew most people didn’t even have any first-hand knowledge of the foster care system - they only had what they heard on the news or TV shows which rarely put the system in a good light. Gwen, however, had lived through it, both the good and the bad. And while she wouldn’t wish foster care on anyone - a loving biological family was what God intended - it had been there for her at a time when she needed it most. She hoped she could change the perception around foster care which was partly why she accepted Drew’s job proposal. The fact that she needed extra income and wanted an excuse to be near him also played a part.

  A tremor of excitement raced through her, and she kicked off the comforter. He was picking her up at ten and swore he had a whole day planned. Gwen never had anyone take her on a surprise date, and she had no idea what to expect.

  As if he was reading her mind, her phone buzzed on the nightstand beside her. She unplugged the charging cord and tapped the screen.

  Good morning. I trust you slept well. I will be arriving promptly at ten. Please have a robe and dress shoes packed.

  A robe and dress shoes? Where exactly was he taking her?

  She tossed the phone back on her bed and, shaking her head, walked to the bathroom to shower for the day.

  Thirty minutes later, she was clean, dressed, and had her bag packed. Her stomach rumbled as she walked into the kitchen, a reminder that she hadn’t eaten yet.

 
Gwen grabbed the oatmeal from the pantry and poured it into a pot with some almond milk and sugar free hot chocolate. Finding “The Hungry Girl” cookbook had been the highlight of her summer. Having lost her mother so young, Gwen hadn’t grown up learning to cook, so a lot of the traditional cookbooks lost her with their fancy ingredients and steps. Lisa Lillian, on the other hand, used everyday ingredients in a lower fat version. And since her recipes were usually only for one or two people, Gwen didn’t have to worry about wasting food or having a ton of leftovers.

  With the oatmeal heating on the stove, she turned to the coffee pot. Gwen didn’t really like the taste of coffee - in fact, she loved green tea - but there was something comforting about one cup of coffee flavored with her favorite creamer. She loved curling up in her recliner with it as she read her devotional. Not only was it the best time of the morning, but it always made her feel closer to God.

  As she placed the filter in, Gwen heard a sound at her front door. She paused, fingers just touching the rim of the recycled brown filter, but she heard nothing more. Had it been a knock? Or perhaps the sound had been at her neighbor’s door and not her own.

  The closeness was one thing Gwen abhorred about apartment life. The lack of lawn management, the pool, the weight room - all great benefits, but the fact that she heard the neighbors above her as they argued or the squeaky bed frame of the neighbors beside her drove her nuts. When she could afford it, she wanted a small house on a piece of land, so her neighbors wouldn’t be too close.

  Gwen poured the coffee grinds in, added the water, and flipped the switch to start the coffee percolating. Now, she could check out the noise. It had probably been nothing but living alone had taught Gwen to trust her sense of sound.

  She peered out the spyhole first, but no one stood on her doorstep. Had she imagined it then? Gwen flipped the locks on the door and slowly opened it. If someone was out there, she didn’t want to fling the door wide too quickly and make herself a target.

  The community area between the two apartments was also vacant, but as Gwen looked around, a black flower caught her eye. Nestled against her front door frame, it lay as if propped there, and further inspection showed a white envelope as well. Gwen leaned farther out to scan the area, but whoever had left the note was gone.

  Her heart thudded in her chest as she grabbed the envelope and the flower. It was a rose. Painted black. Black roses didn’t exist naturally, at least not unless the Turkish black rose was real, but Gwen had her doubts. However, the black rose had two meanings - passion or foreboding death. Drew had already sent her flowers - a large colorful display, so this didn’t seem his style which meant the sender probably hadn’t been intending passion.

  She shut and locked the door. Should she open this? Call the police? Calling the cops might be jumping the gun, but what if someone sent her poison in the envelope? That happened, right? Well, not to people like her. Maybe if she were well known, some celebrity or politician or something, but Gwen was a simple school teacher.

  Crossing to the kitchen, Gwen set the rose down on her table and then turned the envelope over. It was completely white, not even her name on it. Maybe it wasn’t for her after all. Maybe someone had put it at the wrong door. It was easy to do that in an apartment complex.

  The envelope wasn’t sealed however, so Gwen lifted the flap and pulled out the note. It was white card stock with typed black lettering. ‘Cinderella wasn’t real’ was all the note said. Not that threatening in and of itself but combined with the black rose, Gwen didn’t have warm fuzzies. And though there was no name, the note had to be for her. While Drew wasn’t a prince, he certainly represented the wealthy elite and she the poor parentless girl.

  The question was…. Who would send this? It could have been Tom. Though he had said nothing the rest of the week, she was sure his ego was still suffering, and he could have easily found out where she lived. But the black rose didn’t seem his style. Neither did the simple, elegant card. Tom was much more literal. Saying it to her face or spreading rumors was more like him.

  So, Avery? Gwen didn’t know her well, but she had been dressed stylishly. Elegant would certainly describe her, and Gwen had sensed some tension from the woman. Perhaps she still harbored feelings for Drew? But how would she know where Gwen lived? Had she returned while Drew had been showing Gwen around and gotten her address off the paperwork? Gwen would have to ask Drew if he thought Avery capable of such a thing.

  A bubbling sound reached her ears, and Gwen dropped the envelope. Her oatmeal. She hurried over to the stove and turned the heat off. She was lucky her pot was copper or else she would have a sticky disaster on her hands. Gwen scraped the oatmeal into a bowl and poured her coffee into a mug.

  She would come back to the envelope later, but for now it was time to eat and do her devotional. Gwen felt like she needed it more than ever this morning. She needed clarity on what to do with this whole situation. Did she continue seeing Drew? End it now?

  * * *

  Drew whistled as he dressed Saturday morning. He couldn’t wait to spend the day with Gwen. He had spent much of yesterday planning it. He and Manuel would pick her up at ten. Manuel would drive them to the airport, and they would take the jet to Martha’s Vineyard. Once there, he had even more planned: a massage, an afternoon wine and cheese pairing, and dinner at the finest restaurant.

  A knock sounded at the door and then Pierre stepped into the room. “I have your wallet, sir. The tickets are there as well.”

  “Thank you, Pierre.” Even when he hated the requirements that came with money, he never hated Pierre. The man helped him stay organized, and most days, he seemed to read Drew’s mind and know what he needed before Drew did.

  Drew grabbed the wallet off the tray and slid it into the back pocket of his tan Gucci pants. The tickets he inserted into the breast pocket of his jacket before nodding at Pierre and making his way downstairs.

  Manuel was waiting out front with the limo, and half an hour later, they were pulling to a stop in an apartment parking lot. Drew stared up at the buildings scrunched so close together. He hadn’t been near buildings like these since college. Wanting to experience the college life, he had lived in a dorm for one semester. That had been all he could handle. After that semester, he had rented a large house near campus.

  “I’m sorry, sir, this is as close as I can get,” Manuel said from the front seat. “Would you like me to park and get the door?”

  “No, keep the engine running. I can manage the door.” Drew pulled the handle and stepped out of the limo. A man in flannel pajamas carrying a trash bag stopped and stared as Drew scanned the buildings for identification. He must look as out of place as he felt.

  Relief filled Drew when he spotted the G on the closest building. Gwen lived in 4G. With purposeful steps, he strode that direction and rapped on her door. It swung open a moment later, and a smile pulled at his lips. Gwen looked simple and radiant in her jeans and hunter green sweater, but there was a pinched look to her face.

  “What is the matter?” he asked.

  “Can you come inside a minute?”

  “Of course. One moment.” He tapped out a message to Manuel to let him know they’d be another few minutes and then stepped into her apartment. Though small, it was decorated simply and neatly.

  “You know Avery well, right?” Gwen asked as she walked toward the kitchen.

  Why would she be asking about Avery? Hadn’t he assured her there was nothing going on there? “I do, or at least I did. She left for a few years after we parted ways, but why are you inquiring about Avery?”

  “I received something this morning and I want to know if you think she sent it.” Gwen picked up an elegant black rose and note and handed them to him.

  ‘Cinderella wasn’t real.’ He read the typed script and looked up at her. “How did you receive them?”

  “Someone left them on my doorstep this morning. Would she do this?”

  Drew didn’t think so. Avery stated she wasn’t
interested in him, and she had appeared friendly to Gwen when they had met. “Was there anything else?”

  “Just a plain white envelope.” She picked it up and held it out to him.

  He examined the envelope and turned it over. No distinct markings. “Are you sure it’s even for you? There’s no name on it.”

  She cocked her head at him. “Really? You think Cinderella applies to someone else?”

  Drew nodded. While it could apply to someone else, it was more likely directed at Gwen, but he still didn’t think it was Avery. His mother, perhaps? But how would she even know about Gwen? Perhaps Avery had mentioned Gwen to his mother or maybe she had seen the paperwork. “I’m sorry. It might have been Avery, or it might have been my mother though I’m not sure why they would do it this way. Telling me would be more their cup of tea. Could it be anyone you know?”

  Gwen shrugged. “There’s a man at my work who’s asked me out several times even though I keep turning him down. He saw me with the flowers you sent the other day, but this seems too abstract for him.”

  “I don’t want this to ruin our day. How about I take it with us and have someone investigate it? I have a friend on the force who could run it for fingerprints.” Though the note and the flower bothered him, he was more worried the incident would cause Gwen to run again.

  “Maybe this is a sign, Drew-” Gwen began.

  He dropped the items to take her hands. “Gwen, this is not a sign. It’s someone’s sick idea of a joke, but it is not a sign. Please, don’t give up on this yet.”

  Gwen bit her lip and her green eyes shifted back and forth. “All right, Drew, if you think your friend can help, then I’ll let you try.”

  “Good.” He squeezed her hands before dropping them. “Did you pack what I asked you to?”