The Billionaire's Secret (Betting on You Series: Book One)

by Jeannette Winters

  Lizette had been so upset Monday night that instead of going home, she’d stopped to see her parents to inform them of the announcement and get some comfort. Then, knowing she wouldn’t be available for her Saturday dinner arrangement, she stopped in to see Ma and the boys. Surprisingly, neither her parents nor Ma had anything negative to say about the transfer. They were all so excited for her like it was a good thing or something, especially Ma, who gave her an “I told you so” look. Arguing with her wasn’t going to get her anywhere. Ma had a special gift for being able to read a situation, and if Lizette tried to pretend like nothing had happened between her and Jon, she was just going to waste her time. Since she had crammed in visiting everyone on Monday night, she didn’t get to spend as much time with them as she wanted. She knew the rest of the week was going to be extremely busy with packing what she would need from her home. Once she was in New York, she wasn’t sure how often she would be traveling back and forth, since those details hadn’t been divulged to her. And during the time she had spent with her family and friends, they all seemed more interested in finding out more about Jon—and not on a professional level. No, they wanted to hear about her trip to New York last weekend, and her parents wanted to know when she would bring him by so they could meet him, and, of course, Ma reminded her of Jon’s promise to be back soon. If only she knew what his promises were worth. So much for having moral support on the home front.

  She placed the last of her items into her box and looked around the office one last time. This had been her desk for the last five years, her first real job after college. Yes, she still had the job and the title, but she knew starting Monday in her new office, things would change, never to be the same again.

  Her Friday night wasn’t going be the same, as it hadn’t been since the night she met Jon. Instead of soaking in a hot bath, she’d be packing her things at home; the moving truck was scheduled to be there at eight the next morning. She didn’t even get to pick her apartment in New York. She wasn’t even sure if it would have a tub, as everything she researched was space-limited.

  Matt, Jon’s assistant, had called her Tuesday with all the details he felt she needed at the time. How very nice of him. Once again, they’d planned everything for her. Only, it was her life. Didn’t anyone care what she wanted? The answer was simple: no. Matt had informed her that Jon had scheduled a meeting first thing Monday morning to review Another Chance’s current financial reports. He had told her he’d have a limo pick her up from her new apartment, but she had refused. She had proven she was more than capable of finding her way to and from New York on her own, so she was sure she could make it from her apartment to the office.

  Yes, Jon had called a few times since the announcement had been made, but his messages had all been the same: “Just checking how things are going, looking forward to seeing you Monday.” She couldn’t even tell by his tone if it was a personal or business call. She would be there Monday, and she would show Jon she was there on a professional level only and nothing more.

  The clock chimed; it was now seven o’clock. Everyone else in the office had left long ago. She took her desk keys off her key ring and laid them on the desk. Picking up her box, she reluctantly left the office to start the next chapter in her career. Hope I don’t regret this.

  ***

  It was late Sunday night when Jon finally arrived home, kicked off his shoes, and lay on his couch. He was too tired to even finish the beer he had grabbed from the fridge. It had been an extremely hectic two weeks, but they were finished. The final submission to the FDA had been sent an hour ago. Now all he could do was wait, and for once he wasn’t anxious about the answer. Their results were now within the required specs, and the consulting neurosurgeons had confirmed the heat factor had been resolved. He was confident the FDA would provide their approval within the next sixty days.

  Perfect timing. Lizette was scheduled to arrive on Monday, and he could actually relax a bit—not completely, but enough so they could spend some uninterrupted time together. He had called and left her a few messages since he and Ms. Manning had come to terms on his sponsorship. He wasn’t shocked he hadn’t heard back, as she also had a lot on her plate. And soon they would have the time they needed to explore what, if anything, was truly going on between them. He had to admit he looked forward to exploring her in depth. The night they had spent together was the only sweet distraction he’d allowed himself these past two weeks. And each night his dreams were filled with fantasies he could not wait to make reality.

  Tonight, he would sleep. Tomorrow, he looked forward to a sleepless night spent with Lizette in his arms.

  Chapter Sixteen

  What a way to start a new week. Every muscle in Lizette’s body ached. Why did she have to be so stubborn when the movers had informed her they were also hired to help her unpack? If she’d had a brain in her head she would have graciously accepted. But no, all she only been able to think of was how Jon was controlling the situation, and he had controlled enough of her life already. So her entire Sunday had been filled with moving boxes until she couldn’t move another inch. All she could do was admit it was all for nothing because he probably would never even know she had refused the movers’ assistance.

  The apartment was much larger than she’d expected it would be. Actually, it was quite luxurious. When she’d called Matt to inquire why she’d been given such an elegant apartment, he’d said it was based on its convenient location near Vinchi Medical Engineering. She couldn’t dispute that point, it was only fifteen minutes away. That was an amazing proximity in New York, but she was positive the rent on her apartment cost more than her monthly paycheck. Matt informed her it was included under the terms and conditions of the sponsorship. What should have been a relief to hear only made her question Jon’s intentions more. Did he think by sponsoring Another Chance he could sweep her off her feet and back into his bed? If so, then he didn’t know her at all. She wasn’t impressed by his power or his money. If anything, they were what she liked least about him.

  The elevator stopped on the top floor of the Vinchi Medical Engineering building, where she was greeted by a receptionist. “May I help you?”

  “I have a nine o’clock appointment with Mr. Vinchi. My name is Lizette Burke.”

  “Yes, Ms. Burke, he is expecting you. If you go through those double doors at the end of the hall, Matt Phillips will be able to assist you. Please let me know if you need anything, and welcome to Vinchi Medical Engineering.”

  “Welcome to Vinchi Medical Engineering” sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard to Lizette as she opened the doors to find Matt waiting for her. He wasn’t at all what she’d pictured him to be. He was about fifty-five years old, short, and bald. No, not what she’d expected at all.

  “Ms. Burke, Mr. Vinchi is expecting you. Please go in,” he said as he pointed to the open door across from him.

  Well, here it goes.

  ***

  Jon was sitting as his desk with his chair facing away from the door, but he could tell he was no longer alone. Lizette’s sweet scent filled the room. Turning to greet her, he had to admit he was surprised by the vision that stood before him. He knew it was Lizette, even though she was hidden beneath a stiff-accountant look. This was the first time he had seen her with her long silky hair—the hair he so enjoyed tangling in his fingers—pulled tightly up on her head. Jon wasn’t sure what women called that style, but it looked painful to him. Every hair on her head was in place. And her clothes—not a wrinkle anywhere. She was wearing exactly what every accountant he dealt with wore. There were many ways to describe those men and women, but sexy wasn’t one of them. But no matter how hard she tried to hide the woman beneath the clothes, she didn’t succeed as far as he was concerned. He knew exactly what lay beneath that boring conservative attire, and he was looking forward to seeing it again tonight. For now, though, they were meeting about business, so her sweet distractions would have to wait a few hours. Smiling, he said, “Lizette, welcome bac
k to New York. I hope you found everything to be to your liking.”

  “Yes, Mr. Vinchi. Everything was fine.”

  “No need to be so formal here, Lizette, we’re all on a first-name basis here.”

  “Okay . . . Jon. Mr. Phillips—I mean, Matt—said you wanted me to bring the last two years of our financials to review with you this morning. I believe I have everything you will need. Is there a place I can set up my computer?”

  “Let’s go sit on the couch.” He pointed to a large dark-brown leather sofa on the other side of the room. He walked over, but she didn’t follow. As he watched her standing there, he almost could see the wheels spinning in her mind. How could he blame her? It was obvious he didn’t really want to spend the time on the couch listening to her talk numbers anymore than she did. “I promise, Lizette, I will behave.” For now.

  Lizette crossed over to the couch and bent over to pull her laptop out of her bag. Even covered in boring business attire, the curve of her ass made him want to pull her onto the couch and have her right there, right then. How could someone be so sexy and tempting without even trying? Or was she trying, and this was all part of her plan? Hmm.

  She turned quickly but didn’t give any indication she’d noticed him checking her out from behind. A shame, as he was sure it would have led to a much more interesting topic.

  Her computer booted up quickly, and she sat and pulled up more Excel spreadsheets than he cared to see. But since he was financially invested in this company for the next twelve months, he might as well listen to what she had to say.

  “Mr. Vinchi—I mean, Jon—I would like to provide you with a high-level overview of the past twenty-four months’ expenses. Please let me know what questions you have from there and we can dive deeper into those specific areas.”

  “I’m all yours for the day, Lizette. And don’t worry—I’ll stop you when I have questions.”

  “Great. Before we begin, I would like to take a moment to thank you for your generous sponsorship. Ms. Manning informed me you’ll be fully funding all expenses and projects for the next year. After this presentation, I believe you will see just how far your investment in the community will go and the difference you will make in those people’s lives.”

  ***

  Facts and figures: Lizette was in her comfort zone. She was proud of everything Another Chance had accomplished during the past two years. No matter what she felt about her temporary relocation, it was clear there was no way the company would have been able to continue if it wasn’t for Jon’s full sponsorship. All she could do was hope her presentation provided a clear picture of how financially lean their situation had been, and how much more they would be able to do now that they had Jon’s backing.

  As the presentation went on, Jon occasionally stopped her to ask questions, but they were never the ones she expected. She’d thought he’d ask about the company’s money and funds, but instead he only asked for more details about the people they had helped, wanting to know how they were doing now. This was the man who she’d been so attracted to, the one who came to her at night in her dreams. He was a complex man, and she was no longer sure who Jonathan Vinchi truly was. Was he really the big corporate businessman who was always in control and didn’t stop until he got what he wanted, no matter who it affected? Or was he the compassionate, generous man who pulled at her heartstrings? Based on the terms of the sponsorship, she was going to be in New York for a year. Eventually, his true colors would be revealed.

  She continued with her presentation, and before she knew it, it was already the middle of the afternoon. She had been up late last night unpacking and hadn’t taken time this morning to eat, wanting to review the presentation one last time. Thinking back, she hadn’t had anything to eat and only drank water since yesterday afternoon. Something wasn’t right. Lizette suddenly felt shaky and felt a warm flush spread throughout her body. “Sorry, Jon, but would you mind if we took a short break? I need a few minutes.”

  “Not at all. Sorry time got away from us. Looks like we worked right through lunch.”

  She nodded her agreement. “Could you please point me in the direction of the ladies’ room?”

  Jon stood and pointed to the opposite side of the room. “The washroom is right through that door. Then we can continue this conversation over lunch.” He walked to his desk, picked up his phone, and started giving Matt instructions.

  Lizette, now alone on the couch, stood, her legs feeling shaky, and she thought the sensation came from sitting for so long. But as she made her way to the washroom she became lightheaded. She stopped for a second, hoping that taking a deep breath would help. But quickly she went from bad to worse, and the room started spinning. She reached out a hand, trying to find something to steady herself, but found only air. Softly, she called out, “Jon.” Then everything went black.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Oh, how her head hurt. Where am I? She could hear voices but they were all muffled. Then one became clear, calling her name, telling her to hang in there, that help was on the way. Help for what? What happened? She struggled to remember, but the harder she tried the more her head hurt. Answers would come later; for now, she just wanted the ache to go away. Slowly she opened her eyes to find Jon very close, gently stroking her cheek. “Jon,” she said softly.

  Jon pulled back from her a bit, and now she could see the concern written all over his face. “It’s okay, Lizette, I’m not leaving you. The ambulance will be here any second. You’re going to be okay.”

  Ambulance? Everything was a blur. “What happened?”

  “You fainted.”

  “Fainted?” she asked as she tried to touch the back of her head.

  “Yes, and you hit your head when you fell,” he said.

  She wanted to ask more, but just then the EMTs rushed in and asked Jon to step aside so they could evaluate her. Before she knew it they were shining lights in her eyes and asking her a bunch of questions: what was her date of birth, what day was it, what was her name. She could answer all that. Then they asked her what had happened, and there she drew a blank. Once again trying to recall how she ended up on the floor was a mystery to her. Jon filled in the blanks where he could.

  Someone pricked her finger and then said, “Lizette, your blood sugar is fifty-one. Are you diabetic?”

  Diabetic? “No.”

  Another one was starting an IV on her. She didn’t have the strength to argue with them.

  “Here, chew these.” The EMT gave her a few large pills. “They will help bring your blood sugar back up.”

  She looked at Jon, who nodded and said, “I’m right here.”

  Lizette took the pills as directed. She wasn’t sure how they could stop her head from hurting, but she was willing to try anything.

  “Lizette, we need to take you to the hospital. You hit your head when you fell and, from what we’ve been told, it sounds like you were unconscious for more than ten minutes. We need to have you looked at. You could have suffered a concussion.”

  Still in too much of a fog to argue, she nodded her agreement; she knew there was no way she was going to be able to stand on her own two feet at the moment anyway. Within minutes she was loaded onto the gurney and wheeled down the hall, into the elevator, and then into the ambulance waiting below. She heard the EMTs tell Jon where they were taking her and he could meet them there. Jon’s protested response was exactly as she’d expected, but the EMTs didn’t give in to his request to ride in the ambulance, and the vehicle pulled away.

  Once at the hospital, she spent the next several hours being looked over by a continuous flow of doctors. Some just asked her questions: what happened, what was the date, what was her name. Others told her about the tests they were going to run: blood work, X-rays, CT scans. She was positive the Queen of England wouldn’t have received better care.

  After several hours, a new doctor came in. He introduced himself as the chief of staff. He reviewed all the tests they had performed and their results. “Your E
KG is normal, and X-rays are fine. It seems, young lady, you passed out because of low blood sugar. Have you experienced this before?”

  “No, nothing like this before.” How long had she gone without eating? She remembered having Japanese with Jon last night and then going to his place, but somehow there seemed to be something missing. What, she wasn’t sure, but something didn’t feel right.

  “You need to make sure you eat healthy and more often, at least until you follow up with your primary care physician. You also had a CT scan. You have a concussion from when you hit the back of your head on the floor when you fainted. How is your headache now?”

  “Better, but at times it increases, and it’s still tender here,” she said, gently rubbing the back of her head.

  “I suggest Tylenol for the pain, as we don’t want to give you anything stronger that could cause you to become drowsy. We need to you to stay awake for the next twenty-four hours, especially since you experienced a loss of consciousness. I would like to admit you for observation overnight.”

  Even though she was getting the best care here, all she wanted to do was go home. “No, I will be fine. I just want to go home.”

  “I understand, no one likes to stay, but we need to make sure you’re not alone for the next twenty-four hours. Understand?” Lizette nodded. “Okay. You also seem to have suffered short-term memory loss. This is common with your type of injury. I am fully confident that you will recover completely and regain your memory within the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours. Do not try to force the memories—they will come back naturally.”