The Ruthless Billionaire: A Clean Billionaire Romance (California Elite)

by Evangeline Kelly

We shook on it, and I told him I’d have my attorney contact him with the paperwork. I was good at sizing people up, and Henry Townsend was easier than most, despite Dad’s concern. He wanted to honor his mother’s wishes, but, most of all, he wanted the money. All he needed was a little reassurance that everything would be handled in the right way. He wouldn’t read the fine print, and he’d forget about an “altruistic buyer” once the deal was finalized and he had his money.

  As for me, my main concern was pleasing Dad. Once this contract was in the bag, I’d have another notch on my belt. That would go a long way towards keeping him off my back.

  Chapter 3

  Aria

  Santa Monica’s Third Street Promenade was buzzing with the kind of activity that only Southern California could provide. Not that I’d ever traveled outside of California to fact-check that declaration, but I assumed it was true.

  It was a favorite hang-out for young adults wanting to shop or eat out with friends. At night, street performers cluttered the streets and made things even more interesting.

  I performed there on a regular basis, playing my violin for a little extra cash. But this afternoon, performing was the last thing on my mind. When I noticed a group of rowdy teens sitting in a circle on the ground, laughing and smoking cigarettes, I headed over to see if they had any information that would help me find my brother.

  “Hey, have any of you seen this guy?” I held up a flier with a picture of Chase. It was taken four years ago, but I imagined he looked the same.

  A girl with a partially shaved hairstyle shook her head. “Nope. Haven’t seen him.” She went back to talking with the guy next to her. Everyone else ignored me, but I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

  “You,” I said, pointing to a guy with long wavy brown hair. “Do you recognize him?” I held the flier closer to his face. “He’s a lot taller than me, maybe six feet by now, has dark brown hair that looks almost black . . . blue eyes.”

  He shrugged and shook his head. “Sorry, haven’t seen him.”

  The guy next to him leaned in and took a good look at the picture. “I think I saw him yesterday at the shelter on Olympic. It has to be the same guy.”

  My breath caught in my throat. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Pretty sure.”

  “Do you know if he’s still there?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “No. We never spoke, but like I said, he looks familiar.”

  “Thank you for your time.”

  I knew exactly where that shelter was. It was only a mile away, and taking the bus would only delay things, so I broke into a steady jog. Holding back tears of hope, I put on my tough face and told myself over and over that it was most likely just a mistake. That guy probably thought he looked familiar, but everyone said that, and there was a good chance his tip wouldn’t pan out. I’d followed so many false leads over the years that I’d almost grown immune to the inevitable dead end. Still, each and every time, a part of me hoped this would be it—that I’d find Chase, and we’d finally be reunited.

  About five years ago, Chase and I had been placed in foster care. After our first placement fell through, we were separated and placed in different homes. We’d only been able to see each other once a week during visitation. Over time, he’d changed from the sweet, loving brother I’d known my entire life into this cold, moody teenager who barely spoke to me. One afternoon, a social worker informed me that he’d run away, and they were trying to locate him.

  They never found him, but they’d had several leads. A few of Chase’s former friends said they’d last seen him in Santa Monica.

  It happened a few weeks after I turned eighteen and was all set to go to college for restaurant management, but when I received the news, I gave up my plans for the future. Instead, I started combing the streets in hopes of finding Chase. I got a part-time job as a waitress and played my violin to whatever crowd I could gather in order to make a little extra cash on the side. My expenses were minimal since I had a tiny studio apartment in L.A.—the rent in Santa Monica was far too expensive—and I didn’t have a car. When I wasn’t working, I spent the remainder of my time trying to find my brother.

  The police had long ago given up. One of the officers told me Chase probably didn’t want to be found, and he might have been right about that. But I couldn’t stop looking for him. He was my only family, and I had to locate him.

  I arrived at the shelter out of breath from running the entire way. Once I located a staff member, I showed her the flier and explained my situation. She told me she hadn’t seen him, and the little hope I had left began to slip.

  “Please. Are you sure?” I asked, sounding desperate. “This guy on Third Street told me he saw him here.” Tears formed in my eyes even though I tried to hold them back. “He’s been missing for years. Can you just look at this flier one more time?”

  She took a closer glance. “I’m sorry, but I would remember him if I’d seen him. He’s very handsome. No one like him has been to our shelter lately.”

  My lower lip trembled, and I stared down at my feet, wiping my face with the back of my hands. I knew I looked pitiful, but I was tired of always having to hold it together. “I just hoped maybe this time . . .”

  “Look, I’m not supposed to do this, but I feel bad for you. You can walk through the facility and see if you recognize anyone.” She glanced around. “It’s against protocol so please make it quick.”

  Twenty minutes later, I left with my head ducked low. She’d been right. He wasn’t there, and I was back to the drawing board.

  Lord, I don’t know how much longer I can do this. It’s too painful. Every time I get a false lead it hurts like crazy. I don’t know what to do.

  As if God wanted to give me a quick answer, a thought occurred to me. I’d done all I could do. It was time to hire a private investigator, someone who was experienced with finding people.

  All I needed was to set aside enough money. Maybe I could beg Danny for some additional shifts at the restaurant. He wasn’t the greatest boss, so I wouldn’t put all my eggs in that basket. Looking for a full-time job was most likely a better solution. I hadn’t looked because I liked having the extra time to search for Chase. But after four years, my efforts weren’t cutting it anymore. Hadn’t I heard somewhere that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over again, expecting things to change?

  With a new plan in mind, I headed over to a local coffee house down the street to meet my friend, Mason, there for lunch. The coffee shop had sandwiches and a few salads, so we often met there.

  As soon as I walked in the door, I spotted him at a small table in the back. He was about an inch taller than me with light brown hair that swept over his forehead and full cheeks that gave him a baby face. We locked eyes, and he motioned for me to come over. I settled into the seat across from him and blew out a breath.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You look defeated.”

  “I got a tip earlier that Chase was at the shelter on Olympic. Ran the whole way over, but he wasn’t there.”

  “I’m sorry.” He glanced at me sympathetically and put his hand over mine.

  The gesture felt too intimate, and I pulled my hand away, a knee-jerk response. Regret filled me the moment I saw the hurt in his eyes. He had feelings for me . . . as in more than friendship. He’d told me more than once, but I just didn’t feel the same.

  We met at church several years ago, and Mason and I became fast friends. We got along and it had always been completely platonic, but a few months ago, he confessed he wanted more.

  To be honest, I wish I felt something for him. He was a great guy, loved the Lord, was one of the most loyal friends I’d ever had. Plus, we had fun together. But there was no spark, no attraction on my end. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy, but there was no chemistry between us. At least, I didn’t feel chemistry. He was more like a brother than a boyfriend.

  I’d told myself a thousand times it was because I was always worryin
g about Chase and wouldn’t allow myself the luxury of having a relationship. Maybe that was it. Perhaps over time, I’d come to see Mason the way he saw me. I didn’t want to hurt him, so I’d suggested we spend less time together, but he’d been adamant that he didn’t want to lose me as a friend.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I’m a little jumpy today.”

  “It’s okay.” He glanced away. “I ordered your regular: turkey on rye with chips and a bottle of water.” He pushed the meal across the table. “My treat.”

  “Thank you.” I dug in my pockets and then handed him a ten-dollar bill.

  He put it on the table and pushed it back. “It’s on me.”

  An uncomfortable feeling settled in my stomach. “I can’t let you pay for me. It’s not right.” I pushed the money back into his hands.

  He handed it right back with a big smile on his face. “Nope. It’s not often I get to see you. Let me take care of it.”

  I put my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes. “I see you every week, Mason.”

  “Well, once or twice a week doesn’t feel like enough.”

  “Take the money. I insist.”

  “No, I insist,” he said.

  For some reason, allowing him to buy my lunch made it feel like a date, and I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. “Mason, let me pay for my own meal. I’m serious about this.”

  “Fine.” He bit into his sandwich and chewed, looking at me with these huge puppy dog eyes that always got me right in the gut. “I wish you’d let me take care of you. You shouldn’t have to struggle this hard. That waitressing job barely pays your bills.”

  Mason had a good office job in Santa Monica, but I didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness. “I’m fine. Money’s tight but I can handle it.”

  He shook his head and smiled. “Always so independent. You should let others help once in a while.”

  I shrugged. “Guess I’m just used to taking care of myself. It’s a byproduct of being on my own since I was eighteen.”

  He hesitated and looked at me for a long moment. I could tell something was on his mind, but I waited for him to speak while I bit into my sandwich.

  “There’s something I’d like to ask you,” he finally said.

  Shifting in my seat, I took a sip of water and glanced at him. “Okay.” Uneasiness washed over me. Please don’t bring up relationship issues again.

  “I’d like to discuss our relationship.”

  Ugh. He had to do it. I braced myself for the inevitable talk. “What exactly do you want to discuss?”

  “I know we’ve talked about this before, but I’ve been praying about you and me a lot, and I believe we’d make a good couple. I think if you just try, you may be able to see me in a different light. You’re so used to us being friends, but what if you let me take you on a real date? It might change your outlook.”

  My first response was to say no. I didn’t know if I’d ever see him the way he wanted me to even though I wished that wasn’t the case. But what if he was right? What if being on an actual date changed my perspective? I could try . . . Plus, he’d been such a good friend, I felt like I owed him that. “I suppose we can go on one date. I just don’t want to get your hopes up.”

  He smiled so wide his entire face beamed. My heart broke a little in that moment. He wanted to be with me so badly, yet the more he showed interest, the more I wanted to back away. Sometimes life was so unfair. The problem was with me—I knew that. I hadn’t given him the chance he deserved.

  “How about tonight?” he asked.

  “I have to work and then I’m going to that ceremony at Coastal Heritage Museum.”

  “What ceremony?”

  “Remember I told you about that couple I met?”

  “No, I don’t recall you saying anything.”

  “I didn’t? I was performing by the Santa Monica Pier, and this woman named Alexa, and her boyfriend, Dylan, approached me. Apparently, Dylan had painted a picture of Alexa watching me perform one night, and he won a contest for the painting. Tonight’s the award ceremony. They invited me to attend.”

  Mason looked disappointed, and I wondered if he’d even registered anything I’d just told him besides the fact that I wasn’t free tonight. “How about tomorrow then? I’ll take you to dinner.”

  I nodded. “Sure. Tomorrow is fine.”

  We finished our meal and then I took the bus to L.A. I had a shift scheduled at Mama’s Café, the restaurant I worked at. Ironically, Mama’s Café was not owned by a mother but by a man named Danny. His brother, Joe, managed the place while Danny sat in his office for long hours doing who knew what. Danny was actually the nicer of the two, but he rarely showed his face. More recently, morale amongst the employees was at an all-time low, partly because we all sensed one of us would be let go soon. It was inevitable considering business had been slow.

  The moment I walked into the café, I knew something was wrong. Joe looked at me with a sympathetic look, and then he glanced at Danny, who was actually out of his office for once. Danny tipped his chin in my direction, giving Joe some kind of signal.

  “Aria,” Joe said, “I need to talk with you. Why don’t you come back with me to the office? Danny isn’t using it at the moment.”

  A sense of foreboding washed over me as I followed him. He’d never asked to speak to me alone in the office before.

  I settled into a chair, and Joe sat behind Danny’s desk, looking as if he enjoyed being the big man in charge.

  He leaned back in the chair and rested his hands behind his head of reddish-brown hair. “I really hate to do this Aria, but I have to lay you off.”

  I blinked, and even though I knew I should say something, the words got caught in my throat.

  “You’ve been a stellar employee, and I’d be happy to give you a reference letter, but things have been slow around here. It was a hard decision but everyone else has more seniority.”

  I finally found my tongue. “I wasn’t the last one hired.” He’d hired his girlfriend, Jill, a couple of months ago.

  He glanced away and shifted in his seat. “She has more experience than you do, so we need her to stay.”

  That was a bold-faced lie. “Jill told me this was her first job.” I didn’t want Jill to lose her job, but she lived with her parents, so she wouldn’t be destitute if she had to look for a new one.

  He shifted again and looked uncomfortable. “Uh . . . well, you know . . . um.” He picked up a stack of papers on the desk and straightened them. “The truth is, I can’t fire her. That would be the end of our relationship.” He brought his gaze to me. “I’m sure you understand.”

  Anger surged through me, and I fought to maintain control. “How much notice are you giving me?”

  “We simply don’t have the work.” He picked up an envelope and handed it to me. “Here’s your last check.”

  My eyebrows flew up, and I stifled the urge to stand to my feet and yell. “You’re not going to let me work my shift today?”

  He shook his head and wouldn’t make eye contact. “I’m sorry.”

  This was so unfair. He’d hired Jill even though he knew business was slow. I didn’t have anything against her, but it was clear favoritism. Panic worked its way through my chest as reality sunk in. I needed this job. There was rent to pay . . . food, bills. I didn’t want to end up homeless again. During a difficult time in my life, I’d lost everything, and I didn’t ever want to experience that again.

  “Please, Joe. Can’t you give me two more weeks? Just so I can look for something else?”

  He shook his head firmly. “Can’t. This is how it has to be. We can’t afford to pay you for another two weeks. Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry at all.

  I stood, and a frustrated retort was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it because it was as if God reached down at that moment and enveloped me in a cloud of peace. The feeling was so strong and intense, it seemed the Lord was trying to make a point.

  Everything would be okay. He
was looking out for me, and whatever happened, I was in His hands. Peace was something I’d experienced many times in my life, but this was different. It was all-consuming, almost surreal. My entire body relaxed, and I turned and left with my last check in hand, feeling strangely confident that something better would come along.

  And believe me, that was not how I normally thought. I’d gotten used to disappointment, and even though I tried to remain upbeat in front of everyone else, my thoughts weren’t positive all the time.

  When I got home, I laid down on my bed, something I rarely ever let myself do mid-day. I was always mapping out my next move when it came to looking for Chase. There was a whiteboard on my wall with all the places I’d checked in the last few days. At the end of the week, I transferred the information from the board into a log where I wrote down each and every lead that came my way. I studied that log backward and forward, searching for anything that stuck out to me. But today, I let it all go and curled up into a ball.

  My sleep was deep and restful, but, when I finally woke, I checked the time and sprung out of bed in a panic. I’d slept through dinner and had just enough time to dress and make it to the bus since I was running late. Doing my best to hurry, I ran my fingers through my hair and hoped it looked okay. I searched through my closet for something appropriate to wear to the ceremony and pulled out a black skirt I’d had for years. Pairing it with a simple white blouse, I stood in front of a mirror and sighed. It wasn’t great, but it would have to do. I doubted anyone would notice me, anyway. There was no time for makeup, so I washed my face and flew out the door.

  I arrived at the bus stop just as the bus was leaving. Waving my arms frantically, I motioned for the driver to stop. Thankfully, he did, and I breathed out a short prayer, thanking God for that one mercy.

  On the bus, I twisted my hands in my lap, wishing that peace I’d felt earlier would return. I had to find a job—fast. Existing paycheck to paycheck was hardly a way to live, but I’d made sacrifices in order to look for Chase. It seemed that God was confirming what I already knew. It was time to find full-time work.