My Bereaved Billionaire: A Clean Billionaire Romance (My Billionaire A-Z Book 2)

by Katie Evergreen

  “Look, Brett, love.” She put the toilet brush back into its holder and peeled off a rubber glove so she could hold the phone properly. “I am sorry. I really miss you. Hey, maybe you could take a week off and come and help out here? We could spend some time together and it’d help me out.”

  Brett snorted down the phone. Liberty could imagine him scratching at the side of his nose with his thumbnail, a habit he did unconsciously numerous times a day, so much so that the left-hand side of his nose had a permanent red patch.

  “I can’t just abandon my job, can I? TRN needs me.”

  Brett was an account manager in a team of about fifty account managers, Liberty thought TRN could do without Brett for a week at least, but once again she didn’t tell him what she was thinking as he didn’t give her time.

  “Can’t you get back here on the weekends, at the very least?” he asked.

  Liberty left the small bathroom and sat down on the bed she’d only just stripped. Room six was the smallest room in the motel, a single room converted from the attic in the turret of the old house. It had been Liberty’s den, many years ago, and it was still her favorite place inside the motel. Her dad hadn’t changed the wallpaper in here since it had been hers, and the small flowers and intricate vines were faded away to almost nothing. The room was now vacant, but a new guest was expected later that day and Liberty still had the bed to make and the bathroom to finish, not to mention the other two rooms which needed checking once Fred and Ginger had finished.

  “I need to be here for dad,” she told Brett, wiping the sweat off her face with the back of her hand. Her skin looked luminous in the light shining through the turret window. It was as though she’d been treated to a facial, not that she’d spent the last hour with her head stuck down the toilet. “Not to mention that it’s summer season here. Pebble Cove is booked up for the next two weeks at least.”

  “Two weeks?” Brett shouted down the phone.

  Liberty didn’t have the heart to tell him that there was no way she’d be back after the two weeks, not with how slowly her dad was recovering.

  “Two weeks?” he said again, his anger now simpering disappointment. “I’m not sure I can last that long without you, baby.”

  Liberty took a deep breath and looked at the clock on the nightstand.

  “Look, Brett, I am so sorry but I really have to get on here. I’ll ring you later and we can try to sort something out, okay?”

  She could hear Brett puff out air and murmur something.

  “Okay, later. Bye.”

  He ended the call and Liberty felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. It was unfair to Brett, she had been whisked away from him and now she couldn’t say when she’d be going back. Liberty just wished she didn’t have the added pressure of making sure he was okay, as well as looking after Pebble Cove single handedly and watching out for her dad. What she really wanted was someone she could offload to, someone to take her hand and tell her it would all work out. She blinked and forced away the tears she could feel stinging her eyes.

  It will all work out, she told herself as she pulled the glove on and headed back through to the toilet.

  She’d barely entered the room when the phone rang again. Liberty thought about flushing it down the toilet and being done with it. Instead, she stopped her work once again and hammered the screen with her gloved hands.

  “I told you I can’t talk right now, but I promise to call you later,” she said with more force than she’d intended.

  “Um… uh… I’m not sure I have the right number.” The voice at the other end of the phone was most definitely not Brett’s. “Sorry, I was looking for the Pebble Cove Motel.”

  “So sorry, one moment, please?” Liberty blanched when she realized she’d answered the motel phone and not her own private cell. She pulled off her gloves, dumping them on the bed and running down to the office. The voice on the line had been like nothing she had ever heard before. He was well spoken and confident, but with a softness like frothy coffee. She cleared her throat.

  “I’m very sorry. This is the Pebble Cove Motel, Liberty Reynolds speaking, how may I be of assistance?”

  The man on the other end of the line laughed gently, but Liberty didn’t feel it was aimed at her.

  “Thank you, Liberty. Sorry If I caught you at an inopportune moment.”

  Liberty pictured herself with her arms down the toilet and laughed too.

  “Perhaps a little. Sorry.”

  “Let’s start again, shall we? My name is Nathani… Nate, my name is Nate, and I was wondering if you might be able to do me a favor, please?”

  4

  Nate sat back in his chair, now alone in the boardroom. A weird feeling was spreading through his body; warm and enveloping.

  The voice at the other end of the phone was certainly not what he’d been expecting. He’d typed Little Norwich into a search engine and scrolled through the sites representing the wonders of the tourist hot spot. It hadn’t taken long, to be honest. Little Norwich had a small list of attractions. Namely the beach, with its glorious white sands. Then there was the town square, which boasted a Main Street with rows of candy colored clapboard shops offering home wares, sweets, ice-creams, clothes, and postcards to name but a few. Nate had been taken by the homeliness of what he’d seen. Having grown up in a big city he was used to the vast landscapes being taken up with buildings and roads.

  It had only taken a few moments for him to find the one place in the town that held a remote possibility of holding a small gathering. The Pebble Cove website looked as dated as the place itself—a huge red brick building, the ground floor surrounded by a vast porch with peeling paintwork on the wooden struts, grounds that had their own path to the beach, and a turret complete with a gray tiled roof. Nate had laughed when he’d seen it, it was like something out of a fairy tale. Which was perfect, seeing as his ‘wife’ was a fairy tale of her own. The photo of the proprietor had been a man in his late 50s, weather beaten skin and a huge beaming smile. That was definitely not who he was talking to on the phone right now.

  “Nate, I apologize again for my rudeness. I thought I’d picked up my personal phone and… well… yes… what’s the favor? I’ll try my best to help.”

  Nate’s stomach did a summersault as the girl on the other end of the phone offered to help him. She had the sweetest voice he’d heard in a long time. He was used to the brash language of the business people he dealt with on a daily basis, but this was something else. Her voice was kind, soft, there were no sharp edges threatening to hurt him. She was so softly spoken, in fact, that he was having a hard time making out what she was saying with all the hubbub going on behind her. He heard a door squeak and click shut, then the noise disappeared and he was left with the wonderful voice.

  “Sorry, are you still there? Have I scared you off?” she said, her laughter tinkling through the phone line.

  Nate laughed too, clearing his throat.

  “No, sorry, I was just waiting.”

  He wasn’t sure what for but it gave him a moment’s reprieve. He cleared his throat again. This was bizarre, he was never lost for words, and he hadn’t even met this girl, he was only talking to her on the phone. He really needed to pull himself together—especially as he was supposed to be organizing a funeral gathering for his wife. Nate’s stomach dropped as he realised what he was doing. He decided to stop thinking about how lovely the voice on the phone was and start playing the part of the bereaved husband.

  “I’m in need of a function room. If you have any space available in the next week or so? It’s for a funeral gathering… it’s for my… for a… it’s for a gathering.” Nate couldn’t bring himself to say it.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” the woman replied. “Where and when is the funeral and I’ll see what availability we have. Will you be wanting any guest rooms?”

  Nate was thrown. He was so busy feeling guilty about lying to the sweet-voiced motel worker, and even guiltier about not saying w
ho the funeral gathering was for, that her questions knocked him off guard.

  “Um, it’s…” Think Nate, think. “It’s not really going to be straight after the funeral. It’s more of a gathering for the people she knew to say goodbye. The funeral is being arranged separately. So, any available days next week are good.”

  Nate ran his sweaty hands over his chin, his stubble felt rough under his fingers.

  “Oh and yes, three rooms please.” What was he saying?

  Nate heard the flicking of paper over the phone and it surprised him. He thought most businesses would do their bookings online, or at the very least on a computer. It sounded as though Pebble Cove was as dated in its ethos as it was in its pictures.

  After what felt like an eternity the girl came back to him.

  “Okay, with three rooms we can do the Wednesday? Is mid-week good with you, sir?”

  “That’s perfect, thanks.”

  She went through some mundane booking questions with him, how many people would be attending, did he want catering, that sort of thing. None of which he was prepped to answer, and all of which he answered inappropriately. But there was something about how she made him feel, even over the phone, that made him want to carry on talking to her forever.

  “Right, well I think I have all the details I need,” she said. “Shall I mail a confirmation?”

  Nate sat upright in his chair and propped his elbows on the table. There was no need to give away who he was right now. He didn’t want the woman hanging up the phone and immediately Googling his name. He didn’t want her judging him on his money any more than he wanted her judging him on his pretend life.

  “No, no need. If it’s okay with you I’ll just note it in my calendar, save paper and all that.”

  “Certainly, sir.”

  There was a moment’s silence. Nate felt a sudden and unexpected sadness at the thought that he would have to stop talking, but he couldn’t think of anything to say to keep the beautiful voice on the phone.

  “Right, well I look forward to meeting you next Wednesday then,” the woman said. “Check in any time from midday. And please call and let me know if you need anything else. Also, I’m sorry again for the way I answered the phone. I’ve only recently taken charge at Pebble Cove and it’s been a very steep learning curve. It’s not what I’m used to and I…”

  Nate heard the girl’s breath catch in her throat and all he wanted to do was wrap her in a huge hug. That was impossible, of course, so he made do with saying, “It’s okay, there’s no need to apologize. We all forget who we are once in a while. Maybe that’s the best way.”

  He cleared his throat again and stood up. He felt the need to walk around, his stomach was doing loop-the-loops. He loosened his tie and sat back down. His fidgeting was making his heart hammer. Or perhaps it was his hammering heart making him fidget. What on earth was wrong with him?

  “Thank you,” the girl said again. “Maybe you’re right. But maybe it’s not best practice while I’m at work.”

  She let out a little laugh that made the hair on Nate’s forearms stand to attention.

  “See you Wednesday,” she said, finally ending the conversation.

  “See you Wednesday, I’m looking forward to it already,” Nate said. “Goodbye, Liberty.”

  He placed his cell on the desk in front of him and stared at it for a moment, catching up with himself. That had to be the weirdest he’d ever felt whilst speaking on the phone. He’d certainly had some heated debates in his time, but nothing that had his temperature rising in a good way like she had. He smiled to himself as he thought about Wednesday. He would ask Tilly to go with him, but he had no idea who else to invite to fill the third room he’d booked. Or who would take the other thirty-eight places he’d booked for the gathering. There were, of course, other people who knew his wife was fake, but they were his family, and he certainly didn’t want any of them there. Why on earth had he not thought through what he was doing before he’d called to make the booking? He needed to make this look plausible in case any press got wind of it and decided to gate crash.

  Nate’s brain was whirring. Maybe he should just stick with putting a notice in the paper and letting people think it was all going to be private because it was too much for him to deal with. He could cancel the pretend funeral and people would be none the wiser. The only problem with that was that his staff would question what the arrangements were.

  No, there were two problems with that. The second was that he wouldn’t get to meet the owner of that wonderful voice he’d been speaking to. Nate chewed the skin around his thumbnail as he mulled over his options.

  “Nathaniel, you sly old dog,” came a voice from behind him—as familiar as it was unwelcome. “I knew you had more of the old man in you than you were willing to admit. Don’t think I’ve ever heard you flirt before. You need to practice, though, if you’re going to win over the ladies when you’re officially single. Let me show you the ropes. We can practice on, when was it you said, Wednesday? I’ll dig out something black and let your brothers and the girls know. Email me over all the details and I’ll sort out a chopper to get us all there. Arrive in style, my boy, and you’ll have her eating out of your hand.”

  Nate groaned inwardly, and probably a little outwardly too, as he turned to face the door and the man who stood there. He could see Tilly shrugging an apology through the glass walls.

  “Hi dad,” he said, wishing he could close his eyes and make it all go away.

  5

  “Oh no, what have I done?”

  Liberty pocketed the motel phone in her apron and stood, stock-still, staring at the broken file cabinet in the corner of the office.

  She had less than a week to organize an event for a funeral gathering. It had to be perfect, otherwise she’d feel as though she was disrespecting the dead. It was hard enough trying to make sure the living were well catered for in Pebble Cove right now. The thing was, the function room hadn’t been used in a long time, a very long time, and Liberty didn’t even know what condition it was in. Now she was afraid to go and check.

  Still, there was a positive aspect to the whole thing: the guy on the other end of the phone had sounded really lovely. Just the kind of guest she was happy to cater for. As well as his gorgeously relaxing voice, Liberty thought he had been very considerate, especially considering how rude she had been when she answered the phone. Her dad would have been livid—not to mention laughing his head off—had he been here to listen, rather than being stuck in a hospital bed in another town.

  That was the reason she had agreed to the booking in the first place, because they could do with the money. The hospital bills were enough to make her eyes water, and they were eating through her dad’s savings quicker than the termites were eating through the motel. It hadn’t hurt that the guy on the phone had been flirting with her. At least, she thought he had been flirting. She was a little rusty. Although Liberty wasn’t looking for a boyfriend—she already had one—it never hurt to hear someone fill her world with kindness.

  Liberty knew that Fred and Ginger would help out if needed, but she didn’t really have the staff power to pull them off the jobs she’d already allocated to them. There were rooms to get ready for the other guests. Fortunately, Wednesday had been clear in the books. Midweek tended to be a quiet time.

  She wondered who the funeral gathering was for, she should have thought to ask for a name in case they needed signs. That’s what happened at hotels, wasn’t it? They put a fancy sign out front to advertise what was going on and in which function room. Liberty snorted. Who was she kidding? There was only one function room at Pebble Cove and it was hard to miss if you came in through the front door, which everybody did because the French doors in the dining room were always locked, and the back door had been painted shut by an over enthusiastic young decorator years ago.

  A weight hit her stomach as she remembered sitting out on the back porch watching her mom with a can of paint. Most of it splashing over her
denim dungarees or the wooden step ladder she was perched on. She’d let Liberty have a go with the brush, and, at only four years old, she hadn’t been the neatest painter in the world. Together they’d covered the whole door with a vibrant coat of Salty Tears—the strangest name for a paint colour, now that Liberty thought about it. Back then she had just found it hilarious that she had turquoise hands and feet. When her dad had tried to take out the trash the following evening he couldn’t open the door because of the thick layers of paint that Liberty had so diligently applied. She had been trying to fill in the space between the door and the frame because it looked nicer without the gap.

  It was probably violating a million and one fire regulations these days. Liberty wondered if she needed to add that to her list of things to bring the motel up to the Twenty-First Century.

  “First things, first, Libs,” she said to an empty office, gathering up the will power to go and check that the function room was okay.

  It wasn’t.

  In fact, it was worse than Liberty could have imagined. Her dad was fifty-seven and it looked as though he had chucked every single thing he had accumulated throughout those years right here in the function room of the motel. He’d not even bothered to hide it all away, except for locking the door and keeping the drapes shut over the huge windows that looked out over the ocean. Not for the first time today, Liberty wanted to cry. It was too huge a task. She should call Nate back now and tell him that she couldn’t possibly hold the gathering, before it got too late and everywhere else got booked up.