The Billionaire's Mermaid

by Amberlee Day

  Van left his desk chair and slowly walked toward Cleo, who backed away from the teasing look in his eyes. “He’s married.”

  “But very handsome,” Cleo said. “And he speaks French.”

  “Moi aussi.”

  Cleo’s eyebrows rose. “Oh.”

  “And the P.M. has children.”

  “But have you seen him plank?” Cleo asked. “He doesn’t use his feet.”

  Van caught up to her, and wrapped the giggling Cleo in his arms, kissing her until the laughing subsided and her arms slid up around his neck. When he stopped, he said in a low voice, “I’m not sure I want you to meet him, if you’re that enamored.”

  “Meet who?” Cleo asked, batting her eyes flirtatiously and kissing him back.

  A pint-sized throat clearing made Van and Cleo look up. Lily leaned against the doorway watching them. She pointed to the wall clock. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked.

  Cleo reluctantly separated herself from Van. “Nope, I was just on my way. Are you ready for some mermaid practice?”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Lily answered with forced patience. Cleo waved to Van, mouthing whoops, and followed Lily to the north wing to change into their bathing suits.

  SWIMMING PRACTICE WENT well. Cleo and Lily had agreed to spend some days on mermaid practice, and others on synchro. Lily went back and forth about whether she wanted to work hard enough to be part of a competitive synchronized swimming team, but she hadn’t given up on her dream of being an accomplished mermaid.

  Practice time usually ended with Lily and Cleo helping each other out of their tails and putting equipment away. Today, Lily did a quick little dance while she picked up the hoops they had used for practice, telling Cleo that nature was calling her pupil.

  “Tell you what, why don’t I finish up here, and you head back now?”

  “Thanks, Cleo,” Lily said, rushing off without a look back.

  A few minutes later, having finished in the pool area, Cleo walked down the maze of corridors toward the back kitchen stairway on her way to her room. It had been a mermaid practice day, so she carried her tail over one arm while the other hand held a towel over her shoulders. Rounding a corner, she collided with someone going the other way.

  “Oh! I’m so sorry,” she said.

  “No, it was my fault,” said the tall, handsome stranger she’d bumped into. “You must be Van’s mermaid.”

  Recognition suddenly hit Cleo, and she took a step back. “It’s you!”

  The Canadian Prime Minister nodded. “Your name’s Cleo, right?”

  “Yes, your highness,” Cleo said. At his smile, she tried again. “Not your highness. You’re not royalty, right?”

  “Nope, can’t claim that. You can call me by my first name, if you like.”

  “Yes, Mr. President.”

  His blue eyes smiled down at her. “Nope, not that either. Prime Minister works, or, like I said, my first name.”

  Cleo was really putting her foot in her mouth. Nervous, she went to tug at her hair, but it was still jammed into her black bathing cap. “Oh,” she said, realizing that she was still in her sparkly mermaid suit as well. “I’d better go get changed. Will I see you at dinner?”

  “Definitely. I’m hoping Mrs. Fortney’s making her delicious chicken pot pie. I’m on my way there now to check. Have you ever tasted it? It’s amazing.”

  Cleo giggled like a teenager. “Chicken pot pie. Yes. I mean, no. Yes, she’s making it. But I haven’t ...” This wasn’t going well. “I’d better go get changed,” she said again.

  The P.M. nodded. “I’ll see you at dinner, Cleo.”

  Cleo scooted off as fast as she could to her room. “He said my name!” she whispered to herself on the way.

  DINNER WAS A BIT MORE formal than normal, but not much. They still ate in the smaller of Eagle Hill’s two dining rooms, where Cleo, Van, and Lily shared dinners, but this time the table included a lovely centerpiece and candles, and the meal was served in three courses instead of family style.

  Cleo found that once she got to know the Prime Minister, it was like talking to anyone. Conversation flowed, and even Lily got involved sharing her opinions on First Nations rights, as she’d been learning about them in history. Cleo realized during the dinner that she hadn’t had to share Van with anyone other than household members before, and when he was attentive about including her in the conversation, the place he held in her heart grew even more.

  No one had been exaggerating about the P.M.’s love of Mrs. Fortney’s chicken pot pie. For such a fit man, he managed to down three helpings at dinner. He had to leave to catch a plane home right after, and Mrs. Fortney sent him with his own pie to take home. Cleo wished she’d gotten a photo of the priceless boyish expression on his face when he left the house, chicken pot pie in his hands.

  Later that evening, Cleo challenged Van and Lily to read something from Van’s stodgy-looking library. “Surely there are some good books to read in there,” she said. “They can’t just be there for decoration.”

  So they’d all picked something: Lily found several original 1930s-era Nancy Drew books, and took one upstairs to enjoy in her pink grotto. Cleo chose a fifty-year-old mystery novel by an author she’d never heard of, but the book was signed and inscribed to Van’s grandmother, so she assumed the author was a friend of the family. Van found something on the great explorers of North America.

  “That’s what you choose for reading pleasure?” Cleo asked. “Don’t you like fiction?”

  “Sometimes,” Van said. “Although, you read enough old history books that contradict each other, and you might as well be reading fiction.”

  “That’s scary.” The two sat in what had quickly become their favorite cuddle spot, on the loveseat nearest the library fireplace. Samson, as always, lay asleep in his spot. “Why do you read them, if you don’t trust they’re true?”

  “I read old history books looking for anything that could be considered a primary source,” Van said. “A firsthand account from someone who was there. History gets twisted when the story is retold by too many sources.”

  “Like a game of telephone.”

  Van scratched the back of his neck. “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

  “Or when someone wants to spread his own version of history.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Has anyone ever written histories of Banff? Especially here at Lake Louise,” Cleo asked.

  “Sure, there are lots of books about the area. Most of them, if they’re accurate, mention the Rivers family.”

  “All good stories?” Cleo asked.

  Van squinted. “Not if they’re accurate.”

  “Oh, dear!” Cleo laughed.

  “Every family has their stories. I guess ours could be worse.”

  “And how about you?” Cleo asked. “What stories will you add to your family legend?”

  The look Van gave Cleo confused her. Intense, thoughtful, dark. “I hope,” he finally said, “to make a positive difference.”

  “And how will you do that?”

  The dark look in Van’s eyes dissolved, and the warmth she’d come to know returned. “Keeping in control,” he said. “If I can do that, maybe the Rivers family can be redeemed from the things that haunt them.”

  “Spooky!” Cleo teased lightly, though his answer troubled her. “Maybe you should be writing fiction books. Ghost stories.”

  “Ghost stories come in many different forms,” he said. “Now, are we going to read?”

  She didn’t know how to pry that box open, so she decided to tackle something else that had been on her mind. “First, I have something to ask you.”

  “Ask away.”

  “Lily. She would really love to join a synchronized swimming team.”

  “Cleo.”

  “She wouldn’t need to go to Florida, or anywhere far. I searched on her laptop, and found there’s one right in Banff. The city, that is. It would be great for her.”


  “Cleo, I really don’t—”

  “I haven’t seen Lily around girls her own age, but I think she’s someone who would thrive around competition. It could really be what she needs to push her forward, and excel at the sport.”

  Van took Cleo’s hand, and she stopped talking. “Lily’s doing fine here,” he said. He wasn’t angry, but she hadn’t influenced him yet, either. “She loves working here with you. She’s doing well in school, she’s good at organizing her time. She’s active and works hard. She’s happy. I think that’s good enough.”

  Cleo took a breath. “I’m sorry, Van. I can’t just not say something here. Lily is doing fine, you’re right. But she’s not really happy. She’s lonely. And socially, being cooped up here alone all the time—and I know, she’s not alone, but she needs friends. It’s not good for her. Didn’t you have friends growing up? You told me about some of them. Gus’s nephew, and a cousin? Lily doesn’t have anyone around that’s her own age. I think she’s pretty desperate for that kind of company.”

  Van’s smile tightened, but he remained calm. “And what does a teenage girl do when she’s desperate for friends? What does she do when she wants to impress someone? I’ll tell you. She gets into trouble.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that with Lily. She—”

  “She starts making choices that affect the rest of her life. I’m not going to let that happen to Lily. She’s doing fine here, like I said.”

  He put his book up to read, ending the discussion. Cleo wasn’t sure if she should be miffed at being put off, or concerned about this particular parenting style of Van’s. She chose to drop it, for now. Blowing out a frustrated breath, she opened her own book to read. She couldn’t concentrate on the words, though. Instead, thoughts of how she could change Van’s mind kept her mind racing the rest of the evening.

  Chapter 23

  No matter what he did after that conversation, Van couldn’t warm things up with Cleo. She wasn’t reading her book, he could see that. Unless she was an unusually slow reader, she only turned the pages five times in half an hour. He tried caressing her always-smooth skin with his thumb, which usually meant she curled up closer to him ... he smiled just thinking about it. But it didn’t work tonight. She’d definitely gotten her mind set on getting Lily involved with girls her age, and she wasn’t going to let it rest.

  She was right. He knew it. Lying awake in bed that night, he couldn’t deny that while keeping Lily home for so long had kept outside influences away, it wasn’t always going to be enough for her. She needed friends, needed competition, even needed experiences away from him. Everything Cleo had said was right. He just wasn’t ready to do it. The idea scared him too much. But maybe it was time to start thinking about it. He’d have to think it through, of course, so he could control just what those outside influences would be for his Lily Bean.

  Just when he’d finally succumbed to sleep, a sharp knock sounded at the door. He pulled on a shirt, and opened the door to find his assistant, Leonard. His expression was grave.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s ... Something’s happened,” Leonard said. He handed Van a note.

  Maybe it was that he’d just woken up, but it took a moment for the message to sink in. When it did, he ran a hand over his eyes.

  It’s not like I haven’t been expecting this. The plan. I have to stick to the plan.

  “What do you want me to do?” Leonard asked.

  “Get ready to go, and let Mrs. Fortney know. Then meet me in my office. I’ll have to make some calls before we leave.”

  Leonard looked a little unsure. “We’re going tonight?”

  “Yes,” Van growled. “What did you think? What do you think I’ve been preparing for all this time? We’re going tonight, and that’s it. Now, go!”

  Leonard turned to leave, but timidly turned back. “Should we let Miss Willey know?”

  Van shook his head. “No.”

  When Leonard was gone, Van went to his closet for clean clothes. He paused for a moment, seeing his reflection in the mirror. He hardly knew the face that looked back at him. Tired, afraid, older than his years. It was aging him, this shadow that had hung over his family for so long. But he couldn’t shirk the responsibility. It was all on him.

  And Cleo?

  That’s it. The end. What was I thinking? I knew this would happen, eventually. It always happens. And it’s up to me to stop it.

  Chapter 24

  The next morning, Cleo was surprised when Mrs. Fortney told her that Van suddenly had to leave for the day.

  “Did he get called away on business, then?” Cleo asked. “I’ve wondered if he was due for a trip, considering what business he’s in. Will he be back tonight?”

  Mrs. Fortney didn’t make eye contact, which felt strange to Cleo. “I think so,” she said. “Although, he did say he’d be busy.”

  “Oh?”

  Mrs. Fortney’s gaze suddenly met Cleo’s. “He said to plan on him eating dinner in his office tonight.”

  Cleo frowned. “That’s disappointing. But I suppose if there’s business to get done, he needs to do it.”

  Mrs. Fortney only nodded, and left the room.

  “Sometimes, I’m not sure if she likes me,” Cleo muttered to herself, before digging into her breakfast. She stood at her bedroom window, taking in the beautiful white scene outside. The day looked a little less promising, she realized, now that she knew Van wouldn’t be part of it.

  SHE DIDN’T SEE VAN that day, or the next. It left her with an empty, nervous feeling that she didn’t like. She’d managed to live without Van or any other special person in her life to that point, and she determined that a few days without him shouldn’t make her lonely or depressed.

  When Cleo came to the pool that afternoon, she was surprised to see a workman there. She’d never seen the man before.

  “Hello.” He glanced up from his task. “I’ll be another hour or so.”

  “Okay,” Cleo said. “What is it you’re doing?”

  “Mr. Rivers wants these speakers put in.” He pointed to equipment he had scattered around the pool.

  “Speakers?”

  “Sure. An underwater sound system, so you can hear music when you’re underwater.”

  Cleo smiled. “That’s so thoughtful of him. He didn’t mention it.”

  “I guess he forgot,” the man said. “Or maybe it was meant to be a surprise, I don’t know. He ordered it a few weeks ago. Anyway, I’ll have it done in an hour, maybe two.”

  Cleo folded her towel over her arm, rethinking her plan for the day, just as Lily came in. She too wore her swimsuit, and looked confused. “What’s going on?”

  Cleo explained about the new sound system. “Isn’t that nice of your uncle?”

  Lily looked less than thrilled. “It is, but I’m not sure he did it to be nice.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Lily shrugged, but didn’t answer. “So, what are we going to do today if we can’t swim?”

  “How about we hit the weight room?” It wouldn’t be the first time, although Lily still wasn’t a convert to that form of exercise.

  At the suggestion, the girl tapped her foot. “I suppose,” she said. “But just for an hour, okay? And then I have something else we can do together.”

  “What is it?” Cleo asked.

  Lily’s eyes twinkled. “I ordered some supplies. We’re going to make a craft.”

  ONLINE PICTURES OF seashell headbands inspired Lily to purchase gobs of sequins, shells, flowers, and plain headbands—blank canvases for Lily and Cleo to decorate. A table in Lily’s pink grotto bedroom now displayed piles of all the materials.

  “You know,” Cleo said, gently dabbing hot glue onto a blue headband, “we have enough supplies here to start a business. Cleo and Lily’s Mermaid Headbands.”

  “Or, Lily and Cleo’s Mermaid Hair Extravaganza.” Lily hadn’t started gluing yet, instead experimenting with various flower-shell patterns on the tabletop.
“Or, Mermaid-Up Hairdos. Or—”

  “Ouch!” Cleo said, sticking a finger in her mouth. “Be careful of the hot glue. It’ll take your skin right off.”

  “Of course,” Lily said in a way that made Cleo feel silly. “Craft tools can be dangerous.”

  “Well, I didn’t do it on purpose.” She pretended to be offended.

  “What do you think of this?” Lily asked, leaning back for a different look at her design. “Too much pink?”

  Cleo waited until she caught Lily’s eye. The two smiled, and said together, “You can never have too much pink.”

  “True,” Lily said, picking up the glue gun cautiously. “I like it.”

  “Me, too.”

  They were busy enjoying their creations when a sharp rap on the door was followed by Van entering the room, carrying a parcel. He looked surprised to see anyone there.

  “Uncle Van, come see my headband.”

  Van hesitated, his eyes darting to Cleo’s but without their usual warmth. When he came forward to see what they’d made, he barely glanced at them. “Very nice. Why aren’t you swimming today?”

  “There’s a workman there,” Cleo said. “Putting in an underwater sound system you ordered?”

  A confused expression lingered on his face. Finally he shook his head. “Right, the sound system. How long will it take them?”

  Cleo frowned. Van was rarely this distracted. “He should be done by now,” she said. “We decided to use the weight room today instead of swimming.”

  “And now we’re crafting,” Lily said proudly.

  “All right,” Van said. “I’ll leave you to it.” He started to leave, but turned right back around. “I forgot, this came in the mail for you. Leonard must have accidentally put it on my desk.” He placed the package on the table next to Lily, and then he was gone.

  Cleo still frowned. “That was odd.”

  Lily didn’t seem to notice. She inspected the outside of the bundle, and broke into a wide grin. “It’s my new tail.”