Billionaire's Flight (Standalone Book) (Billionaire Bad Boy Romance)

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Billionaire's Flight (Standalone Book) (Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) Page 10

by Alexa Davis


  "Just think carefully about it before you decide to throw it all away on a guy who isn't worth it," she warned.

  The buzzer for 2B rang and Trish set her glass down to go see what the teen wanted.

  "Just think, Princess," she said patting my shoulder. "About you. About what you want and need. That's all I'm saying."

  I nodded miserably as I stared at my own reflection in the shiny sink. The question was what did I want?

  #

  My heart sank as I pulled into the driveway. I could tell that Tommy hadn't watered the plants while I was gone, so still dressed in my flight clothes, I yanked the hose off the hook on the side of the house and connected it to the spigot. I was dead tired from the flight, but this made me angry enough to do something about it before going inside. I hoped it would give me time to calm down and get into a rational mindset.

  I knew that part of the reason I was angry at Tommy had nothing to do with him, but I was still pissed at him for neglecting the house while I was gone, and honestly, I was dreading what I might find inside. It took me fifteen minutes to soak the ground, and when I was done, I could see that the plants were going to make it. He must have watered at some point or they'd have been beyond help. Or at least, that's what I told myself.

  Nothing prepared me for what I found when I gathered my things and went inside the house. It looked like a bomb had gone off in the kitchen. There were fast food wrappers and chip bags all over the counters and a thin layer of what must have been cereal crunched under my shoes as I walked over to the sink to shut off the dripping faucet. Something smelled rancid and I followed my nose to a bowl on the kitchen table. It was full of what I could only guess was baked beans, covered with a thin layer of mold. I held my breath as I grabbed the edge of the bowl and carried it over to the sink and turn on the hot water.

  "This is disgusting," I muttered as I squirted some soap into the bowl and let it fill with hot sudsy water.

  "Oh hey, Em, you're home!" Tommy called from the backyard. I could tell he was already partly drunk just by the tone of his voice.

  "Yeah, I flew in a few hours ago," I said, trying to keep my tone even and calm.

  "I'm glad you're back, this place isn't the same when you're gone," he called. "Hey, come see what I'm working on!"

  "A damn mess?" I muttered, irritated that he hadn't even apologized for the disaster, but as I walked out the backdoor I saw that the kitchen was the least of the mess. I gasped and put a hand over my mouth.

  "I know, pretty awesome, isn't it?" he laughed happily as he raised a bottle to his lips and drank deeply. The backyard was covered in auto parts and on blocks. In the space that was supposed to be our patio was a huge truck with its engine half removed and spread out on a table that ran along the side fence. Our backyard looked like a junkyard.

  I looked around taking it all in and then I turned and ran into the house crying.

  "Em, what's wrong, babe?" Tommy called as he followed me into the house. "Why are you so upset? I've got a side job I'm working on. It's gonna bring in a big paycheck when I'm done with it!"

  "Like all the other jobs you've done that have ended up costing us money?" I yelled at him. "Great! You've got a hobby and I have to work overtime to pay for it!"

  "What the hell-" Tommy said with a stunned look on his face. "What's gotten into you? You on your period?"

  "Oh my God, I don't even believe you," I said as I turned to face him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I looked at him. "You are so blind! You can't even see what's happened!"

  "Em, what are you talking about?" he asked.

  "I'm talking about the fact that you have spent the past three years wallowing in your grief and drinking to try and erase the fact that you will never play pro ball," I yelled. "I'm talking about the fact that the man I married was someone who had goals and a plan for how he was going to accomplish his dreams and that man has almost completely disappeared! I'm talking about the fact that I'm sick of coming home to a house that looks like a bomb went off in it and a husband who has been on a three day bender and can't even remember to WATER THE PLANTS!"

  "That's a low blow, Em," he said quietly.

  "Yeah, well, the truth hurts," I shot back angrily. He wasn't going to own up to his failings and I sure as hell wasn't going to let him blame it all on me. I looked at him for a long time waiting for him to say something, but he'd had too much to drink and couldn't formulate a sober thought. I nodded, grabbed my flight bag, and headed to the bedroom where I quickly grabbed some clothes and threw them into a duffle bag.

  "Where are you going?" he asked quietly.

  "I'm going to my mother's for a few days," I said in a terse voice. "You figure out what it is you want to do about...this, and then let me know."

  "Em, don't leave, please?" he begged. "Stay. We'll work it out. I promise."

  "Tommy, you're an alcoholic and you have a serious problem," I said as I looked him in the eye. "I've loved you since I was fifteen, but I'm not going to stay married to a man who wants to perpetually be fifteen. I want a life. I want to be married to a grown-up who does grown-up things. The way things are right now? I don't want this life."

  "That's so cold," he said sadly. "Really cold, you know."

  "You made your bed," I told him, mustering up as much haughtiness as I could. "Now lie in it or don't, it's not my choice. It's yours."

  "Fine!" he yelled in a drunken voice. "You're going to be sorry you cut and run. You'll see! I'm going to make it big and you'll be sad that you didn't stay with me!"

  I shook my head as I tossed a few extra things into my bag, zipped it up, and threw it over my shoulder before grabbing the handle of my travel bag and dragging it back out the front door to my car. I loaded my things in the trunk and stood looking at the house for a few moments before I pulled the keys out of my purse and climbed into my car.

  "Em! Em! EMILY! DON'T LEAVE!" Tommy yelled as he stood in the doorway looking like a lost little boy. My heart ached as I looked at him. I wanted to run back in and make everything okay. I knew that's what he was expecting me to do, but in my heart, I knew it wasn't the right thing to do. I knew it wouldn't solve anything and I knew the problem would just continue and I knew that if it did, I wasn't going to be happy. If change was still possible, and I had my doubts, then this was the only way to show Tommy I was serious about it.

  I turned the key and started the engine. I looked up at Tommy in the doorway and sighed as I gave a sad little wave, then I backed out of the driveway and headed to across town to my mother's house.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Austin

  At eight o'clock, the front buzzer rang and I went to the door to let my guest inside.

  "Well, hello handsome." Anna grinned as she walked through the door carrying bags of food. She had obviously been to the stylist that day because there was not a hair out of place on her shiny blonde head. She was wearing a cream-colored halter-top that showed off her arms and cleavage to their best advantage and she'd paired it with a pair of skintight jeans that looked like they'd been painted on. The effect was upper west side boho chic and she pulled it off without a hitch. She promptly set the bags on the dining room table before crossing the room back to me. She reached up and wrapped her arms around my neck to pull me close so that she could plant a soft kiss on my lips.

  "Hello, beautiful." I grinned as I wrapped my arms around her and marveled at how fit and toned she was. I had no idea how she kept everything so tight and firm, but there wasn't an ounce of fat on her body – but then, that was Anna. Nothing extra on her. "How have you been?"

  "Me? Oh, I've been just fine, babe!" she smiled as she let go of me and moved to the kitchen, pulling out plates and silverware. She often knew the places I stayed better than I did. "What about you? How are things down under?"

  "Oh ugh," I groaned. "It's a mess, and I don't know how to fix it because I can't find the source of the leak!"

  "Huh, that sucks, babe," she sympathized. "Did you hir
e a private investigator to do some digging?"

  "No, but I'm tempted to do that," I said as she began dishing up the food. She'd picked up a mix of Mediterranean dishes that she knew I'd like, and while she dished it up, I grabbed a two frosty bottles of Brooklyn Ale and popped the caps. "Why? Do you know anyone down under who does that kind of work?"

  "No, but I know someone who would be happy to go undercover for the price of a luxury suite at the Marks in Sydney," she laughed.

  "Who? You?" I said surprised that she'd offer to do something she knew nothing about.

  "No, silly, I'm not trained to do that kind of thing, but I do have a friend who is," she said more seriously. "I'm just saying that if you can't figure out who is leaking the information, then maybe you need to employ sneakier methods for getting to the bottom of it."

  "And nothing is sneakier than sending a beautiful woman in to do the job, right?" I grinned.

  "Well, you asked." She shrugged as she brought the bottle to her lips and drank. I sat down next to her and began eating.

  "We'll see what happens," I said. "What else is new with you? What's going on with what's-his-name?"

  "Who?" she asked.

  "The guy you were headed out to dinner with the last time we ‘rolled in the hay,’ as you so eloquently put it," I laughed.

  "Oh him?" she said. "He was a nice dinner date, but definitely not the one. He was rude to the wait staff and you know how little patience I have with that."

  "I know, you have exacting standards for your men," I said seriously.

  "Austin, don't mock me!" she cried. "I'm serious! Manners and kindness are a huge deal to me. It says a lot about a man when he treats the staff as if they are less than human, and I don't want to raise a family with someone who has so little respect for others."

  "I see your point, and I'm just teasing, you know that," I said with a warm smile. "I'm glad you have high standards, you deserve only the best."

  "I deserve you," she laughed. "But since you and I aren't that kind of duo, I'll have to settle for one of the lesser men in the world."

  "Oh stop it," I grumbled good-naturedly. "I'm not that great. Well, maybe just a little great."

  "Jackass," she laughed. "Speaking of which, what about you? What have you found out there? Is there anyone special in your sights?"

  I didn't want to tell Anna about Emily, but it seemed dishonest not to tell her, so I spent the rest of dinner replaying the events that had taken place in Sydney. When I was done, Anna looked at me thoughtfully.

  "She's either not that into you or..." she trailed off.

  "Or what? Don't hold back! Tell me!" I urged. Much like Honey, Anna knew the ins and outs of things, and I wanted to hear what she had to say.

  "Either that or she's in a really crappy marriage and doesn't have the guts to leave," Anna announced.

  "What the hell?" I said. "I checked her employee files, she claims single on her tax forms."

  "That doesn't mean squat," she waved me off. "Lots of people claim single exemptions on tax forms for a wide variety of reasons. I'm just saying that she's married or something like it, and she's not happy, but she's not going to tell you that."

  "How do you know these things?" I said in amazement.

  "I don't know, probably because I've spent a lifetime watching other people do some of the weirdest things imaginable," she said as she speared a piece of chicken schwarma and popped it into her mouth. "Not much surprises me anymore, babe."

  "So what do I do?" I asked.

  "There's not much you can do," she said, tilting her head as she smiled at me. "If you pursue her, you're going to scare her off and come away looking like a billionaire douchebag. Let her do what she needs to in order to figure out her home life and then see what happens. I mean, if that's the issue. I could be totally wrong. It's been known to happen."

  I laughed out loud as she said this. Anna was very rarely wrong about anything. I sat there staring at her until she looked over at me and waved her hand in my face.

  "Yoo hoo, dream boy!" she called. "Anybody in there?"

  I grinned sheepishly as I stood up and reached out and took her hand, pulling her toward me. It felt good to hold her, but something wasn't right.

  "Austin," she said as she looked up at me and rested a hand on my cheek. "How about we just curl up on the couch and watch a movie tonight? Is that okay with you?"

  "Sure, if you want to," I said surprised that she didn't want to head into the bedroom since that's usually what we did after dining together. "I mean, if that's okay with you."

  "Look at me," she said. I looked down at her smiling at me and I couldn't help but smile back. "I'm not here just for the wild hot sex, though that is awfully nice if I do say so myself. I'm here because we're friends and I like being around you, sex or no sex. So, tonight, let's just hang out and be friends who watch a movie, okay?"

  "Okay, then," I said visibly relieved. I would have taken Anna to bed if she'd wanted to, I mean, I'm a man and I have needs, but she wasn't who I really wanted to be with and she knew it. And, because she was my friend, she was willing to let go of that part of our relationship until I had figured things out. I looked at her again and then pulled her tightly against my chest. "You're the best, Anna."

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said as she returned the hug. "Tell Mr. Right to get his ass over here and figure that out, will you?"

  As we stood in the dining room holding tightly to what we'd once been and what we were now becoming, I knew right then and there that Emily Warner was different from all of the other women I'd ever dated. She was special and I was going to have to figure out what was keeping her away from me.

  Chapter Thirty

  Emily

  I pulled into the driveway at my mother's house, turned off the car's engine, and put my head on the steering wheel and for the first time that day, I cried. The tears fell hot and fast as I felt my heart breaking. I knew down deep that Tommy wasn't going to change and that no amount of fighting was going to make this marriage work.

  I felt like a failure. I was a grown woman running back home to her mother despite the fact that, on my wedding day, I'd sworn up and down that I knew what I was doing and I was sure it would work. My mother had been skeptical, but she had believed me because I'd always been true to my word. I felt like I was letting us both down.

  I took a deep breath, wiped my eyes, and put a bright smile on my face as I grabbed my bags and headed in to my mother's house. If I was going to take time to think about whether my marriage was over, I was going to do it in a place where I felt safe and loved.

  "Emily!" my mother exclaimed as I walked through the door dragging my bags. "Are you hungry, honey? I've got tons of leftovers from the banquet. I can fix you a plate real quick."

  "Mom," I said and then dropped the bags and stood in the doorway feeling completely lost. My mother looked confused for a moment, and then she did what she does best – she kicked into action and began taking care of me.

  "Now, don't just stand in the doorway staring at me." She smiled as she grabbed the handle of my travel bag. "Grab that duffle and bring it back to your room. You're in luck, I put fresh sheets on all the beds today whether they needed them or not!"

  I was relieved not to have to think about anything, so I followed her orders feeling intensely grateful that she wasn't asking any questions – yet. My mother pulled my bag into the back room and then went to get me some fluffy towels saying, "You look like you could use a nice long hot shower."

  I stood in the middle of the room, unsure about what to do next. I knew that once I took my traveling clothes off, I'd be admitting that things had changed and I didn't know how, so I was trying to hold on to what was still the same for as long as I could.

  "Oh Emily, get out of those clothes so I can toss them in the washer for you," my mother said as she came back from the bathroom where she'd turned the taps on and started a shower for me. "You get cleaned up and I'll make you a plate. When you're ready, come to
the kitchen and eat, okay?"

  "Oh Mom," I began.

  "No, you shower first and let me make you some food, then we'll talk about what's got you so riled up that you show up unannounced." Then she continued more softly, "I'm glad you're here, baby. Now get to the shower before all the hot water runs out!"

  I laughed as I pulled off all of my clothes. I felt like I'd been in them for days, and it was freeing to hand them over to my mother for laundering. I grabbed underwear, a t-shirt, and a pair of shorts out of my duffle bag and made my way to the shower were I stood under the pounding water until it began to run cold.

  I studied myself in the mirror as I dried off. I was twenty-three, but the past couple of days had made me feel like I was a decade older. So, I put on the best smile I had and went out to talk with my mother.

  #

  "Mom, I'm hungry!" I called as I walked into the kitchen to find her setting the table. "I thought you were just making me a plate."

  "Well, I got going and thought why not just whip up a meal for both of us," she laughed. The table was set with butter, jam, honey and syrup and my mother was at the stove watching over three skillets as she whipped up creamy scrambled eggs, browned greasy sausages and a fluffy stack of pancakes – breakfast for dinner was my mother’s specialty. The smell was intoxicating and my stomach started growling as I sat down and took a sip of juice.

  "So, talk to me, baby," she said as she slid the spatula under a bubbly pancake and quickly flipped it. "Tell me why you're spending the night at your mother's house and not at your own."

  "Mom, I don't know what to do anymore," I blurted. "Tommy has changed so much and I can't take care of him anymore."

  "What do you mean?" she asked.

  "I mean, he slid into a depression after the injury and he's never come out of it," I said. "I've tried everything I can think of to get him help, but he's decided that drinking and rebuilding cars in the back yard is the answer. I'm sick of it."

 

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