Taming The Billionaire

by Darcia Cobbler

  The articles that came out of these little trysts had become very popular. Of course, neither the general public nor Leah’s editor knew how these little tidbits about Brent Watt were obtained. But, the articles hinting at Brent Watt’s secret heartbreaking past made for exciting reading all the same.

  “Just make sure the last article actually spells it out,” the editor told her just before she left for the tournament’s last charity event. “We need him to actually confirm the rumors about his father. It’ll be anticlimactic if he doesn’t.”

  Leah had agreed. But, as she made her way to the country club’s black tie gala that evening, she couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit ashamed of herself.

  She’d always said she wouldn’t be one of those reporters who slept her way to a story. And, now, wasn’t that exactly what she was doing?

  On the one hand, it was. But she couldn’t help but feel as though that wasn’t all it was with Brent. When she was with him, not just in the storage closet at the country club, but anywhere, she felt closer to him than she did to any other man she’d ever met.

  Now, she felt as though she didn’t just want to know about his past for the article. She wanted to know about it because it was a part of him.

  Still, as she drove to the last formal dinner of the tournament, she knew that she couldn’t put it off any longer. She had to find out about his father one way or another. What’s more, she had a feeling that Brent would be willing to tell her tonight.

  When she’d pulled up to the country club, she had to fight off a gasp when she saw Brent waiting at the door for her.

  His well-tailored black suit showed off his lean, muscular body and the bright blue tie he’d chosen made his eyes sparkle. Those eyes brightened when they landed on her as she climbed out of the car. She’d felt a thrill rush through her as he looked her up and down with obvious appreciation.

  “I’m glad you decided to dress up,” he said moving towards her. “You look amazing.”

  She’d worn a dark blue and very fitted evening gown as well as an unfamiliar pair of high heels. She told herself that these heels and the instability they caused were the reason she took Brent’s arm when he offered it.

  “You clean up pretty well yourself,” she said with a smile. He chuckled in a way that made her stomach flip as he led her into the country club’s dining room.

  As soon as they entered, of course, Marcus was waiting for them.

  “Glad you could make it,” the agent said though the frown on his face as he looked at her told a completely different story.

  “We didn’t have any room left at Brent’s table, but, I got you a spot nearby,” he said taking Leah’s arm and moving her away from Brent.

  Leah, feeling a sting of disappointment bordering on panic, looked back at Brent.

  “Don’t worry,” Brent said with an easy smile. “I’ll make sure to steal you for a dance.”

  She barely had time to give him a smile before Marcus hurried her away.

  “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” Marcus said through his teeth as he tried to give bright smiles to important looking men who greeted him.

  “Enlighten me,” Leah said, keeping a smile on her own lips. “What exactly am I doing?”

  “I’ve read your articles, Leah,” he said. “I know half the stuff you’ve quoted him saying weren’t approved by me.”

  “He hasn’t said anything his brother wouldn’t approve of,” Leah said confidently as they reached the table and he pulled out a chair for her in what looked like a gallant maneuver.

  “Either way,” Marcus said gently. “Don’t think for a second I’m going to let you sneak away with him tonight. I’ll be watching you two like a hawk.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Leah said smiling in a way that made her feel more confident than she felt. Marcus gave her one last backward glance before moving off towards his own table with Brent. To his credit, the table where she was seated was just beside the one where Brent sat with his agent. They were so close, in fact, that if she listened closely, she could hear their conversation.

  So, when the bodyguard made her way over to Marcus from his post by the door, she watched the bouncer with interest. When he bent down to speak to Marcus, Leah moved her chair closer to hear their conversation.

  “Jordan Watt wanted you to give him a call right away,” the tall man said.

  “Can it wait until after dinner?” Marcus asked with a nervous glance towards Brent.

  “He said it was an emergency. He needed to talk to you as soon as possible.”

  Marcus’ eyes glanced from the tall man to Brent and Leah, clearly trying to weigh his options. Finally, he heaved a sigh and stood from the table.

  “Remember, don’t do anything ‘till I get back,” Marcus said sternly to his charge. Leah glanced to Brent who was on Marcus’ other side.

  “Oh, you can trust me, Marcus,” Brent said flashing a winning smile.

  Marcus looked at him as though he didn’t trust his client one bit. But, with a sigh and another glance to the bouncer waiting, he gave a small nod and moved away from the table.

  Brent moved to the edge of his seat and watched eagerly until Marcus left the room. As soon as he had, he stood up and made his way over to Leah.

  “And, that’s our cue,” he said. “Come on.”

  Before Leah could say anything, he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of her seat.

  “Where are we going?” She asked as he dragged her gently to the dining room door.

  “You wanted an interview, right?” he asked.

  “And we can’t do an interview in the dining room? I mean, your agent’s not there.”

  “We could,” Marcus said as they left the dining room and were now making their way across the open porch overlooking the golf green. “But, I don’t feel like cold salad and gazpacho.”

  “What do you feel like?” She asked curiously.

  “Burgers,” He said. “I asked around and there’s a place right by the beach I’m dying to try.”

  Chapter 4

  The restaurant Brent had chosen was a surprising hole in the wall type place called The Burger Shack. And it lived up to its name. The building itself was small and looked like it was made of tiki wood. The dining room inside was about the size of an average Georgian living room with only a handful of customers.

  They were seated at a tiny booth just beside the restrooms. When ordering, Leah strongly considered a salad. Because, the more she looked at Brent across from her, the more she was tempted to think of this as a date rather than an interview. Despite what she’d told him at that club.

  In the end, her gnawing hunger won over her desire to appear dainty and she ordered a cheeseburger.

  “You won’t regret it,” Brent said when the waiter left to put in their order. “The burgers here are to die for.”

  “So, I take it you’ve had them before,” she said.

  “Yeah. Used to come here all the time when I was a kid.”

  “If you’ve got such great memories of this place, why haven’t you come back?” she asked, rooting in her bag for her pen and notepad.

  “Jumping right into it, huh?” he asked, a nervous half-smile on his lips.

  “No time like the present,” she answered.

  And she was glad that Brent was willing to jump right in with her. He answered every question she asked him. And, for her part, Leah was surprised to learn that Brent’s childhood had been much different from the rosy picture Marcus had painted for her.

  “It’s true that Dad was a middle-class marketing vice president for a TV station,” Brent said. “But, he was also a raging alcoholic. He would hit our mother constantly. Even hit me a few times. Jordan and I dealt with it in different ways. Jordan put his head down, locked himself in his room and focused on his school work. I used any excuse to get out of the house altogether. Needless to say, I ended up getting into some trouble. Once, mom even had to come to the police statio
n because I’d been nabbed for graffitiing a car. But…that changed when I was about thirteen.”

  “I assume that’s when you got into CAA,” Leah said.

  “You assume right,” he told her. “After Mom begged him, Dad tried Alcoholics Anonymous. Mom got me and Jordan to go to the CAA meetings. Jordan didn’t go back after the first one. But…I kept going. I guess I liked being able to talk about all the stuff going on. Even after Dad gave up on the twelve-step program and started drinking again, I kept going to the CAA meetings.”

  “And your Dad drinking again is the reason you left town?” Leah asked, finally beginning to understand.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I started trying to defend Mom when he would go after her. So he started beating up on me. Eventually, when I was eighteen, I got sick of it. So, I left. Jordan had already moved out so, I moved in with him. Didn’t see any reason to come back.”

  “Not even when your Dad died?”

  “Like I said,” he told her taking a sip of his water. “I didn’t see any reason to come back.”

  He set down his cup, looked up and gave her a small half-smile as she jotted the last sentence down in her notebook.

  “Just one last question,” she said.

  “Shoot.”

  “Why doesn’t your brother want you to talk about this?”

  The half-smile faded from his face and he looked down at his hands.

  “Jordan…Jordan just doesn’t like talking about personal stuff with the press,” Brent said. “And, I mean…I can see why. Things celebrities say get blown out of proportion all the time.”

  “That explains why he doesn’t talk about it,” Leah answered. “But, why does he have his guard dog trailing you to make sure you don’t talk about it. And, beyond that, why do you let him?”

  Brent’s tan cheeks took on a slight flush when he glanced up at her. A look of something between shame and embarrassment crossed his face.

  “Look,” he said. “Jordan was the one constant I had growing up. I mean, Mom was so beaten down by our father it was hard for her to look out for us. Dad was always drunk. So, Jordan basically raised me. It’s…it’s hard for me to say no to him.”

  “Then why speak out now?”

  Brent ran a hand over the five o’clock shadow on his chin and heaved a sigh.

  “To tell the truth, I’m getting tired of it,” he said. “I’m getting tired of not being able to tell people how much help I got growing up. I’m sick of people thinking I had some kind of privileged upbringing when that was not the case at all.”

  “Does people thinking you’ve had a privileged upbringing really change the way people see you?”

  “You’d be surprised,” he said. “Especially when I come back to St. Augustine. I mean Marcus has kept me out of trouble this trip but usually-oh, shit!”

  Leah followed his gaze out the restaurant’s window and saw why Brent’s face had suddenly fallen. Marcus, followed by the bodyguard was marching towards them, a look of fury on his face.

  “I guess this means you’re in trouble,” Leah said. “Should we run for it?”

  Brent shook his head, his eyes still locked on Marcus.

  “I’m sick of him babysitting me,” he said. “Sick of him parading me around. Calling me his meal ticket. I think you’re right. It’s time I stand up for myself.”

  As soon as this speech was finished, the front door of the shack flew open and Marcus stomped in.

  “So, this is where you went off to!” he said moving over to their table. The slick smile that usually filled his face was gone and his cheeks were red and puffed. He would have looked funny if Brent’s expression hadn’t been so serious.

  “Marcus look, I- “

  “You’re giving interviews, the exact interviews your brother wanted me to stop you from giving, just because some pretty reporter bats her eyes at you? Do you know how much damage you’re doing?”

  “It’s not damaging, to tell the truth!” Brent said his voice raising. “And I’ll take all the responsibility with Jordan.”

  “Do you think that’ll stop him from taking it out on me?” Marcus asked. The anger in his face was turning to fear, almost panic. “He’s never gonna trust me again. I can say goodbye to invites to black tie galas and charity balls. All because you decided to fuck some meddling reporter- ”

  “Hey!” Brent said raising his voice so loudly that the bartender and two other restaurant patrons turned to look at them. “This was my choice. You don’t have to bring Leah into it.”

  “Come on Brent,” Marcus said with an eye roll and an ironic laugh. “We both know you can’t resist a pretty face. And you’re too shallow to care about the truth or your history or any of that. No, this is all because of this little slut.”

  What happened next, flew by so quickly that Leah barely had time to take stalk of it.

  In a flash, Brent turned around and punched Marcus in the jaw. The agent reeled back in shock for a moment before giving Brent a small shove of his own. Brent wobbled back but soon found his feet again and threw another punch.

  Before long, Leah was grabbing hold of Brent’s arm and pulling him away from Marcus who was on the floor with a bloody nose. She could see the bartender rushing over to the agent on the ground but she didn’t turn back to take in a full view of the scene.

  She knew she had to get Brent out of there before the cops or anyone else showed up. Quickly, she dragged him outside and back to his red sports car which they’d driven to the restaurant.

  “I’m sorry,” he said as soon as they were outside. “I shouldn’t have- “

  “Don’t worry about it now,” Leah said moving quickly to the car. “We need to get out of here before the police or the out of town press show up. Any place in town they wouldn’t think to look for you.”

  Brent shook his head. “Not that I can think of.”

  “That only leaves my house,” Leah said hoping on the passenger seat of the car as Brent started the engine. “It’s not far from here. I’ll tell you where to go.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  In a moment, Brent jumped on the gear and Leah wrapped her arms around him. As she did, the scene at the bar faded from her mind slightly as she realized that, no matter the circumstances, she was about to go home with Brent Watt.

  Chapter 5

  They pulled up to the small garden home Leah had rented when she first moved to St. Augustine after college.

  “I hope you’re not expecting much,” Leah said apologetically as she walked up to the front door, keys in hand. “It’s just a one bedroom. Nothing fancy.”

  “As long as it’s devoid of my ex-agents,” he said.

  Leah opened the door to a utilitarian living room, donned with white walls a blue carpet and black futon. The kitchen, equally as utilitarian with its tan tile, fed into it. She tried not to think about the bedroom which was just down the hallway.

  “So, I take it Marcus really did lose his job back there,” she ventured.

  “If I’ve got anything to say about it, yeah,” Brent responded. “It’s up to my brother. But, when I tell him what happened, I’m sure he’ll agree with me.”

  “I still wonder why you didn’t fire that dirtbag years ago,” Leah said.

  “I guess that’s why Marcus thought that his job was safe,” Brent answered. “He didn’t think I had the guts to go against my brother.”

  “Well you proved him wrong,” Leah said.

  “Don’t make me sound like such a hero,” Brent said. “He was drunk and, anyway, he got in a couple good swings.”

  Leah heard him plop onto the sofa. When she turned to him, for the first time, she noticed a small red cut on his cheek. He looked up at her with a self-deprecating smile.

  “He always liked his fancy rings,” he said with a shrug.

  “There’s some rubbing alcohol in the kitchen,” Leah said. “I’ll get it and clean that cut for you.”

  As she turned towards the kitchen, she heard him give out a lo
ud groan as he lifted himself from the couch.

  “You don’t have to do that,” he said “I can- ”

  “I know I don’t have to,” Leah answered. “I consider this payback for the interview you gave me.”

  “Really, I don’t want to put you out.”

  “I had two younger brothers,” Leah answered with a roll of her eyes as she grabbed the bottle of rubbing alcohol along with some cotton swabs from the kitchen cabinet. “I’m used to cleaning cuts.”