The Billionaire's Mermaid

by Amberlee Day

  His eyes crinkled with fun, and Cleo wondered what it would be like to reach out and touch his face. “Of course,” Van said. “What kind of billionaire would I be if I didn’t have my own mermaid? All the rest of the upper crust would laugh at me.”

  Cleo abruptly stopped in the hallway. Her thoughts raced, and she stared at this stranger standing beside her. She kept forgetting that she’d just met him that morning.

  Van stopped too, a question in his eyes. She probably looked like a fish with its mouth in a stupid O. “What?” he asked.

  “You said billionaire. Are you serious?”

  “Well ...”

  “I’m sorry, should I know who you are? I admit, I don’t keep up with the current list of the world’s billionaires, if there is one. But ... seriously?”

  Van slowly began walking again. “Forget I said that. It’s not important, and I’m probably exaggerating.”

  She followed his lead and caught up with him. “But were you? Exaggerating?”

  “Maybe.” His teasing teetered on flirtatious. “You never know. We don’t know each other yet, after all. I could be a serial liar.”

  Know each other, yet. She smiled inwardly. “I think the term is compulsive liar. Unless you mean serial killer?”

  Van laughed aloud again. It was a rich, deep sound, and while she may have just met him, she already loved to hear it. “I don’t claim to be either one, but I’ll let you decide for yourself. About tonight, would you join Lily and me?”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary. I know I’m meant to be a present, but I’m sure Lily would rather spend the time with just you. Or, maybe invite one of her friends to come.”

  Van’s gaze dropped to the floor as they walked. “As it turns out, it was just going to be the two of us tonight. Truthfully, I’m here on her errand. Lily has requested you come along as well.”

  “Really? That’s sweet of her.”

  “You’ve already made quite an impression.” Those penetrating eyes found hers again. “On Lily.”

  Cleo swallowed. “Of course.”

  Van cleared his throat, a professional tone returning to his voice. “There are some questions I need to ask you. Normally before I hire someone, I vet them. Check references, criminal history, that kind of thing.”

  “I have a clean record, Mr. Rivers. Van. Pinky promise.”

  “I’m sure you do. It’s just a formality. I didn’t order the check earlier because ... Well, I just didn’t. I guess I was in a rush.”

  Cleo nodded. “And I imagine you weren’t thinking so much that you were hiring a person,” she said. “I think maybe you considered it renting a mermaid?”

  “Oh, Mermaid Cleo,” Van said, amusement rumbling through his words, “not much gets by you, does it?”

  She shrugged. “I’d accept that observation, except for the fact that I still don’t know where in Canada I am, so I’d say a lot gets by me.”

  “I guess Lily and I will have to give you a tour, then. A tour of the most beautiful place in North America. This house is Eagle Hill Manor. It’s over a hundred and twenty-five years old, and it sits in Banff National Park, in a hill high above the park’s most precious gem, Lake Louise.”

  Chapter 10

  By five o’clock, Cleo and Lily huddled together in the snow-carriage, talking and giggling and trying to keep warm. Van tucked them in before firing up the snowmobile, pulling his passengers through the gently falling snow and evergreen trees surrounding his home. He almost wished he’d been able to climb in with them, a surprising feeling. If given the choice, he usually preferred solitude.

  Van followed the road into town. The Rivers didn’t bother plowing it in the winter, except to keep the front gate free to open—never had, even when he was a child. The tradition at Eagle Hill remained since the invention of the snowmobile, and even before that, guests and family alike traveled to and from the house in a horse-drawn sleigh during the winter months. It wasn’t that they couldn’t plow the roads; they chose not to. It kept unwelcome visitors away. Just as well. He loved these chilly rides through the forest.

  Pulling the carriage, Van maintained a slower pace than the machine was capable of. Within twenty minutes they had arrived at their destination. Jumping down to let his passengers out, his heart beat faster just anticipating his new employee’s blue eyes and broad smile when he opened the coach door.

  “The train restaurant!” Lily exclaimed when she saw where they were. “Thank you, Uncle Van!”

  Van gave the girl a one-armed hug before turning his attention on Cleo.

  “It’s beautiful,” Cleo said. Her gloved hand lingered in Van’s while he helped her out. Her long legs unfolded slowly from the low carriage, and her eyes were busy taking in the landscape. “It all looks like something out of another century, and the white lights are so pretty with the snow. Where’s the lake?”

  “Somewhere else,” Lily answered, sounding like an expert. “First, we’re going to eat dinner on a real train.”

  Van smirked. “My niece is partly right. Lake Louise is past those trees. Less than ten minutes on the snowmobile. And we are indeed eating dinner on an actual old-time train car.”

  “Sounds wonderful.” Finally Cleo met his gaze, and for a moment those incredible eyes and smile were his. He suddenly felt hot in his snow gear, but he didn’t want to look away.

  “THE DELAMERE DINING Car, ladies, was built in 1925,” Van said, “but the main restaurant is in the Station over there. It’s the oldest building in the area, and it used to be a CPR depot.”

  “CPR?” Cleo asked. “Like first aid CPR?”

  “Canadian Pacific Railway. This whole hamlet is here because railway moguls wanted to make money on tourism. They built the Fairmont Chateau, right down on the lake. We’ll head down there after dinner. It was a wise investment, putting a large hotel out here. People have been coming in swarms for a hundred years, skiing in the winter and hiking in the summer.”

  “Also, canoeing the lake,” Lily piped in, leading the way to the train car. “And ice skating. Those are my favorites. Uncle Van! Can we go ice skating tonight? It is my birthday, after all.”

  Van pretended to be irritated. “Do you think we could eat our dinner before you demand any more of me?”

  “Sorry. Just trying to help come up with fun ideas. Right this way, lady and gentleman.”

  Van and Cleo followed Lily into the brightly lit train car. He tried not to stare at Cleo, but it wasn’t easy. He didn’t want to miss those moments when her face lit up, which it did now watching Lily take charge. He was impressed—and a little jealous—at how quickly the two had warmed to each other.

  “This is where we can hang our coats,” his niece said once they were inside. She gave Van a nudge, and he had to look away from Cleo to see Lily’s coat already off. She was holding it out for him to take.

  “Thank you.” Lily sounded positively bossy, and he might have corrected the birthday girl, but it reminded him to help Cleo with her coat.

  “May I?”

  Her eyes met his again, and she turned to let him help her out of her giant brown coat. She’d already had it on when he met up with Cleo and Lily in the house kitchen just before they left. A full-length down coat, perfect for a winter night, but he noticed now that there was something distinctly familiar about it. He held it up for inspection.

  “Is this Mrs. F’s coat?” he asked.

  “It is. She was kind enough to loan it to me. I’ll have to get one, it’s wonderful.”

  “You didn’t bring a coat to Canada?” Van couldn’t comprehend that decision. “In January?”

  “I would have brought a coat, if I owned one.”

  “You don’t have a coat?” Lily had a horrified look on her face. “Cleo, are you poor?”

  Cleo laughed, a happy sound that sped up Van’s heartbeat. “No, not poor. It’s very warm in Florida, even in the winter. I’ve never needed one there.”

  She turned to face him just then, and something ab
out her outfit made him do a double take. “I suppose you don’t own any winter clothes, either?” he asked.

  Like the coat, her outfit was also weirdly familiar. Cleo had left the cuffs on her long sleeves open, and now she rolled them up over her sweater. “I do not. Mrs. Fortney’s wonderfully warm wool pants, and her blouse and boots. The sweater’s mine.”

  “Huh.” Even in a sixty-year-old woman’s clothing, Cleo was an attractive woman, Van acknowledged with admiration. “I suppose if you’re going to be here for a while, we’ll have to get you something appropriate to wear.”

  “You’re paying me enough; I should be able to take care of that myself,” she answered with a sassy tone that he hoped Lily wouldn’t match.

  Aloud, Van just harrumphed.

  The dining car interior shone with polished wood, and white linens gave the place a neat, crisp look. Van puffed out his chest, proud to be sharing this very classy piece of history with his mermaid.

  “It’s really lovely,” Cleo said, “but is all this space just for us?”

  Indeed, the train car with its long center table nearly running the length of the car, had seating for at least two dozen.

  “Well, yes,” Van said. “Lily likes to eat in the car instead of the main restaurant over at the old station house. You either rent the whole thing, or don’t do it at all.”

  Cleo nodded. “Okay, then,” she said, making him feel a little silly. What was wrong with renting a train car for his niece’s birthday? He straightened his shoulders. Seemed logical enough.

  Once they’d placed their orders—including corn chowder, crispy duck tacos, and bison burgers—Lily entertained herself by exploring every nook and cranny of the train car.

  Van shook his head. “I don’t know what she’s looking for. She does this every time I bring her, as if she’s going to find some priceless antique treasure someone dropped. A bracelet, perhaps, or an ornate key to some hidden passage.”

  Cleo sipped on the hot cider she’d ordered. “I can’t blame her. This place has a feel of mystery to it, and romance. Don’t you think?” She glanced up at him just then, with the same look she’d given him when he showed up at her bedroom door earlier. Like she couldn’t decide if he was going to eat her, or seduce her. He couldn’t blame her. She didn’t know yet that her new employer had a strict code of behavior.

  Although, it could be fun letting her think I’m dangerous. Then it wouldn’t surprise her if I wrapped her in my arms, and kissed her.

  He quickly tried to shake off that image, but once it was in his head he couldn’t get it out. He’d only met the woman that morning, for Pete’s sake! Concentrating on the ice in his glass, he determined to keep control of his thoughts. It made him angry how quickly that was becoming a struggle.

  What am I playing at here? There’s no room for romance in my life. No room for someone like her. I can’t even think of taking that chance. He abruptly changed the subject.

  “I have questions for you.” It came out more gruffly than he intended, so he forced a softer tone. “I don’t have the list with me right now.”

  “There’s a list? Wow.”

  “Like I said earlier, while I’m sure you’ll be great with Lily, this is something I do with every employee. Leonard should have it for me by tomorrow. Can we plan on a time to sit down and go through them?”

  “Of course. What time are you thinking? It sounds like Lily normally has school in the mornings. I’d be free then.”

  “I have meetings all morning.”

  “And I’ll be swimming with Lily all afternoon.”

  “Then ...” He tried to stop himself, but didn’t want to. “How about dinner tomorrow night? Just you and me. An interview dinner.” Stupid. This is a terrible idea.

  Those eyes tried to read him, and his heart raced again. He gave her the stoniest look he could manage, to keep her from succeeding.

  “Where?” she asked.

  “At the house. There’s a table in my library where I sometimes eat. Unless your allergies ...”

  Cleo looked embarrassed, and despite his inner debate, he smirked remembering her cute and not-quiet sneezes. “Mrs. Fortney found me some antihistamine, so I should be fine.”

  “Seven o’clock?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “Fine. Then it’s a—” He stopped himself, but she’d already caught that he almost said date. Those eyes pinned him down. “An appointment,” he finished, as if that’s what he was going to say all along.

  “All right.”

  “One thing I’d like to know now, though,” he said, wanting to keep an upper hand. “Is your full name really Cleo? Or is it maybe ...”

  “Cleopatra.”

  “Ah.”

  “Cleopatra Belinda Willey.”

  “Let me guess: Belinda was either your mother’s best friend, a favorite actress, or—”

  “Lead singer of the Go-Go's.”

  “Right.” Van leaned back in his chair and studied Cleo. It was easier but less pleasant when her eyes were occupied elsewhere, as they were now. “Lily’s full name is Lily Bean Sprout Rivers.”

  “Wow,” Cleo said.

  “Wow is right.”

  “A very ... earthy name,” Cleo said.

  “It could have been worse. Her mother considered Galadriel, from Lord of the Rings.”

  “I see.” From the look on Cleo’s face, she did.

  “I think you and Lily have something in common,” Van said without tenderness. “You both were born of teenage mothers.”

  “Is there something wrong with that?” Cleo’s eyes flashed at him, quick and angry. Van almost winced. He hadn’t seen that look before from Cleo, and while it surprised him, even anger looked good on her. “I mean, it’s clearly not ideal,” she admitted, “but it’s not like it doesn’t happen.”

  “It makes things hard on the child,” he said. “Did your mother raise you?”

  Cleo folded her arms. “She did not. My grandparents did. My mother’s parents. Mostly my grandfather.”

  “And Lily’s being raised by her uncle,” Van said, as if that proved his argument.

  Cleo leaned forward. “My parentage has nothing to do with my ability to teach Lily mermaiding, Mr. Rivers.”

  “It gives me insight into your character, Mermaid Cleo.”

  “It gives you insight into my mother’s life. Her early life. It does not give you insight into mine. I don’t judge my mother’s choices, but we are different people.”

  “I wasn’t passing judgment.”

  “Weren’t you?”

  Van was a businessman, and he knew when it was time to concede an argument. This wasn’t getting him anywhere. He’d find out more about Cleo Willey tomorrow night, so there was that to look forward to. Hopefully it wouldn’t end in a disagreement. For now, he wanted to see that happy spark in her blue eyes again. He gave her what he knew was a mischievous look, and enjoyed the way her eyes widened.

  “You’re right,” he said. “That came across wrong. I guess I’ll have to find some other way of getting to know my mermaid better.”

  Chapter 11

  Cleo felt like a fish out of water, but for the most part she enjoyed her first full day in Canada. Waking up that morning in a strange house, creating a spectacle of herself as a mermaid in what felt like a nineteenth-century library, getting to know Lily, swimming, beginning to explore a new place ... She’d wanted an adventure, something to wake her up. While occasionally awkward, this Canadian situation looked promising.

  Cleo fell on the ice for the tenth time. That one’s going to leave a mark, she thought. Normally she jumped right up, but this time she gave herself a moment to catch her breath and take in the scenery.

  It frightened Cleo a little to imagine that at other times of the year the ice she sat on was a lake full of kayaking tourists. Perhaps it was thinner in the center, though, as lights marked off an area for safe skating. The Chateau Lake Louise Hotel sat right at the edge of the lake, imperial and m
agnificent, surrounded by snow-covered pines and topped with a clear, starry sky. She wouldn’t have guessed that something so beautiful existed outside of fairy tales. Someone had even built a spectacular ice castle on the lake, big enough to walk around in. The whole experience was a magical adventure, and the beauty of it made up for the bruises forming on her backside.

  Cleo got back up on her skates, and winced as she rubbed her tender behind. An adventure, yes. But a romance? It wasn’t what she was looking for, but the potential seemed to be there. Van Rivers, this unconventional new employer of hers, certainly didn’t know what he wanted. Watching him now, pretending to be an ice monster chasing a delighted Lily in circles, he looked like a perfect family man. Or what she imagined that would be. In Cleo’s experience, mermaids were more realistic than traditional families, but watching Van and Lily, she felt both a joy and longing that she wasn’t sure what to do with.

  Dinner had been a pleasure, she knew that. While Van’s tendency leaned toward irritation or a bad-boy kind of flirtation, he forgot all that when he talked about his tiny hometown and the Canadian Pacific Railroad. She assumed he ran some sort of business during his working hours, but his knowledge of dates, events, and local legends would have rivaled a history professor. Not that listening to him was dry and boring; quite the opposite. His descriptions made Cleo hungry for a tour of the place in the daylight, when she could see the history alive all around them.

  Lily appeared to have heard it all before, but she occasionally piped in with an addition to one of Van’s stories, or to ask him questions. The interaction between Van and Lily struck Cleo as elevated, something of substance. They were comfortable together. Conversation with Cleo’s grandfather had always been abrupt and on the surface at best. She would have loved to have someone just talk to her like that during her growing-up years.

  Cleo had never been ice skating, but she was an athlete used to pushing herself until she mastered a new skill. Van offered to help her learn, but Cleo had sent him on his way to focus on Lily. After many spills on the frozen lake, she was finally getting the hang of it when Van returned to her side.