The Billionaire's Voice (The Sinclairs #4)

by J. S. Scott

  “My fan club,” he answered glumly. “Can I have a beer? And no milk. I already ate.”

  He watched as she pulled out a frosted mug and brought him whatever they had on tap. Not that he was picky. He could tell by the lightness of the liquid in the glass that it wasn’t a dark, bitter brew, which was the only kind he really didn’t like.

  She set the mug down in front of him, placing a napkin underneath.

  “You look better,” she observed, reaching out to turn his face toward her.

  “I’m a fast healer,” he answered flatly, letting her examine his features. Her touch was impersonal but light and soft, so he let her check him out as long as she wanted.

  Unfortunately, she dropped her hand almost immediately, and he was kind of disappointed. “Not busy tonight?”

  The joint was empty except for him. He seemed to be the only customer.

  She shrugged and crossed her arms in front of her. “It’s late, and it’s after Labor Day. The town gets quiet during the off-season. You missed the crowd. There must have been six or seven people here earlier,” she informed him sarcastically.

  Julian smirked, amused that she could throw out those kinds of comments with a perfectly straight face.

  He motioned toward the chair across from him. “Then sit. Have a beer with me.”

  “I don’t mingle with customers.”

  “Bullshit. You probably know most of the people in this town.”

  “Okay. Maybe I just don’t want to talk to you,” she answered tartly.

  He shook his head. “That’s not it. It’s because I kissed you the other day, and now you’re uncomfortable.”

  “Is not,” she denied emphatically.

  “It was an amazing kiss, by the way,” he drawled.

  “Not that great. I’ve had better,” she protested. “And if you have a fan club, why bother kissing me at all?”

  “Because I didn’t want to kiss anybody in my fan club,” he answered, locking eyes with her. “I wanted to kiss you.”

  He watched, amused, as she opened her mouth and then snapped it shut. It was the first time she’d ever looked the least bit flustered.

  She wrinkled her brow and looked at him quizzically. “Why? You have women dropping at your feet.”

  “Not the right kind of woman.” He took a slug of beer and motioned for her to sit again.

  She turned, her ponytail swaying as she made her way to the back of the bar and pulled out a chilled Diet Coke, came back to the table, and sat across from him. “I’m not really joining you. My feet hurt.” She popped the lid on the can and took a long gulp of the soda. “Besides, I’m done cleaning up, and I can’t lock up until you leave or it hits closing time.” She hesitated before she asked, “Are you really being bothered here in town? Most people are pretty used to seeing the Sinclair brothers, and you guys have been here before. We usually mind our own business.”

  “Usually nobody bothers any of us. But these girls all look young,” he admitted disgustedly.

  “Like how young?”

  He shrugged. “Probably just old enough to drink.”

  “And you’re so old?” Kristin said teasingly as she picked up his sunglasses. “Honestly, I think wearing sunglasses at night is probably a dead giveaway that you’re hiding.” She shook her head sadly and picked up the hat. “And since when are you a Patriots fan? You live in California.”

  He snatched the cap from Kristin’s hand. “I didn’t just buy that. I grew up on the East Coast. I don’t like California teams. I’ve always been a Pats fan.”

  She gave him a doubtful look. “Okay. But I’d definitely lose the sunglasses at night.”

  Julian had been trying to stay on the down low for so long that he hadn’t even thought about wearing the glasses after dark. Usually, if he was going out after the sun set, it was for a work function, so it didn’t matter if he was recognized. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

  “Does it ever get old? Being famous, I mean? It has to suck not being able to go anywhere without bodyguards in a crowd.” She took another sip of her soda and looked at him questioningly.

  It got old really fast, and Julian had been over it almost from the start. He hadn’t gotten into the business for stardom or fame. He was in it because he loved movies and telling a good story. “It’s part of the job. Even if it’s something I hate, there’s parts of every job that people aren’t going to like. If you’re successful, you don’t have much of a choice except to deal with it.”

  She looked surprised. “You really don’t like having women panting after you?”

  He leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “I wouldn’t say that. If you wanted to pant after me, I wouldn’t run away,” he answered in a low, husky tone. “Hell, I’d love to let you catch me.”

  Kristin rolled her eyes at him and snorted. “Dream on, Hotshot. I never have liked being part of a crowd of groupies.”

  He smirked at her, enjoying her denial. Julian actually liked Kristin. He always had. She spoke her mind, and she definitely didn’t worship famous people. Honestly, he didn’t think she gave a damn whether he was famous or not.

  “Do you like my movies?” he asked curiously.

  She didn’t speak for a moment, finally answering, “I only saw your first one. But yeah, I liked it. You deserved to be awarded for it. You’re an amazing actor, and you brought life into the character, made the movie seem . . . real. I haven’t seen the others.”

  “Don’t bother with the most recent one,” he warned her. “But you might like the second one.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to see it. What’s wrong with the last one?”

  “Not enough heart,” he answered stoically. “If people like special effects, it’s good. But it doesn’t have much emotional substance.”

  “And that bothers you? It was a big-budget movie.”

  “That might be the problem. Too much money on bling and not enough guts in the screenplay.” When he’d signed on to do the film, he’d hoped that once it was produced, it would come to life. But it hadn’t turned out much different from the screenplay, which was all lights, stunts, and sound.

  “Why do it if you didn’t like it?” Kristin questioned.

  “I guess I was hopeful that it would turn out differently. It had a huge budget, but most of it got spent on the effects. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a fun flick. The action is nonstop, but it’s not something that will touch anybody here.” He put his hand on his heart.

  “Sometimes, maybe that’s okay. People go to movies to escape from their lives in lots of situations. I know some people will love that. A few hours of fun on the big screen is still important. It’s escapism.” Kristin’s tone was sincere.

  Julian studied her face, realizing she was actually being honest with him, and he started to wonder if she wasn’t right. He’d enjoyed doing something different. Even though he didn’t see it as something that might touch people on a deep level, maybe it wasn’t always necessary to be touched that deeply. “So sometimes it’s just okay to be entertained?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Underneath your sarcasm, you’re pretty insightful, Red.”

  “I hate that name,” she said through gritted teeth.

  Julian saw a glimpse of hurt cross her beautiful face, and he was instantly regretful that he’d ruined an actual discussion between them. “I’m sorry, Kristin. I was teasing. I never meant to be mean.”

  She shrugged it off, but Julian could tell that he’d touched a nerve with her. Unfortunately, just as he wanted to expand on his apology, he spotted his Amesport fan club. “Shit! Here they come. How in the hell did they find me?”

  Kristin shot out of her chair and grabbed his hand, tugging him across the room and then behind the bar. “Get down,” she hissed as she put her elbows on the worn counter.

  Julian felt ridiculous as he crouched behind the bar, but he didn’t feel like interacting with a crowd of hysterical young women tonight. He’d alread
y tried to reason with them, and they’d practically ripped his clothes from his body. They weren’t polite, and they were far from reasonable.

  “Ladies? Can I help you?” Kristin asked casually as the crowd of young women came through the door.

  “We’re looking for Julian Sinclair!” a high, excited voice exclaimed.

  Kristin shook her head. “Sorry. I can’t help you. And we don’t chase people down like rabbits in this town. The Sinclairs are part of this community, and we respect the whole family for what they’ve done to help Amesport.”

  The same overenthusiastic woman answered. “Oh, we don’t live here. We’re just here to find Julian. We heard he was here. We’re his biggest fans.”

  “If you care about him that much, then you’d let him have his privacy. I understand he’s dating a woman in this town, and I don’t think he’d appreciate you screwing that up for him.”

  There was a chorus of groans as the women were notified that he might be off the eligible-bachelor market.

  “He’s getting married?” another female asked in a disappointed voice.

  Kristin shrugged. “He might be. Look, ladies, Julian Sinclair is just a man like any other. You don’t even know him. Maybe he’s not worth going crazy over. Personally, I think you have to know a guy to actually like him.”

  “But he’s so hot.”

  “He’s amazing.”

  “He’s gorgeous.”

  Kristin broke into the barrage of compliments. “I’ve heard he can also be a real dickhead,” she told the women with an enormous eye-roll. “Being handsome could never make up for that.”

  “Sometimes it can,” one of the females whined. “But if he’s off the market, I guess we should give up. We have to get back home anyway. Our parents are going to be pissed that we took off a few days at the college to drive to Amesport.”

  “I’m sure they won’t be happy,” Kristin told them ominously. “But the fewer days you miss, the easier it will be for you.”

  The young women left looking heartbroken. Kristin strolled over to the door as the last girl left, flipped the sign to “Closed,” then turned the lock on the door.

  Julian rose up and watched her as she sauntered back to the bar. “You heard I was a dickhead?” he asked, amused. “And who am I marrying here in Amesport?”

  “Nobody. But you wanted them off your back. It worked. They’re going home now that they think you’re off the market.”

  Julian frowned. “Did somebody actually say they thought I was a dickhead?”

  “Nope. I made that up myself. But I’m sure somebody has said it somewhere.”

  He laughed because he couldn’t stop himself. Kristin was about the crankiest woman he’d ever met, but he liked her style. No bullshit. No pretension. As he recovered, he admitted, “I owe you. Thanks.”

  “Don’t think I won’t collect,” she warned him. “It’s not like you’re even a friend.”

  Still smiling, he strode over to his table. He put his sunglasses on the visor of his cap and jammed it back on his head. “I look forward to you collecting, Kristin. Anything you want is yours. You were amazing—except maybe for the dickhead part.”

  He walked over to the door, unlocked it, and then cracked it open. “But you’re very right about one thing.” He turned and looked at her, not missing the fact that she looked flushed.

  She put her hands on her hips. “And what’s that?”

  His gaze roamed hungrily over her flame-colored hair, her soft skin, and her curvaceous body as he answered mysteriously, “I am definitely just a man.”

  There was no answer, and Julian didn’t expect one as he walked through the door and closed it softly behind him.

  CHAPTER 13

  “Xander overdosed. He’s in the hospital,” Julian informed Micah as he arrived back at the guesthouse.

  Having just dropped back in to the guesthouse for a few minutes to get some stuff this morning, Micah had been certain he’d be back to Tessa before she woke up. Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen now.

  He looked at his brother, dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt just like him, Julian’s usual humor totally absent from his expression.

  “When? How bad is he?” It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but every time, Micah hoped it would never happen again.

  “He’ll live, but he’ll need to stay a few days in the hospital. They want him to be discharged to rehab. They tried to call you, but they couldn’t reach you. They got to me through my publicist.”

  “Damn! I just got a new phone, and I asked for a new number. I killed my old phone during a climb with Tessa. My executives don’t even have it yet. Tessa is the only one who has the new one. I should have been pickier about who I gave it out to over the years. I was getting calls from people I don’t even remember.”

  “What do you think about rehab? I think he might need it,” Julian said huskily.

  Micah took a deep breath, knowing it was time to clue his middle brother in on a few things. “He’s gone the rehab route, and it isn’t his first overdose. He checks out of rehab the minute he’s allowed to go, and he won’t talk to anybody about getting help. Something’s going on with him, Julian, but I have no idea how to get through to him,” Micah rasped in a frustrated voice.

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I wanted you to have your time. These are your moments, everything you’ve worked for in the past decade,” Micah answered in a low tone.

  “But Xander’s my brother,” Julian argued. “If he’s in trouble, I want to help.”

  Micah exploded. “Don’t you think I haven’t fucking tried? I’m probably in California once a week, but I have a company to run, and Xander isn’t doing a damn thing to help himself. He’s addicted to prescription narcotics, the same drugs he used to keep his pain stable right after the murders. He drinks his hard alcohol straight from the bottle, uses it to wash down the pills until he’s unconscious. He doesn’t want help, Julian. I’ve tried.”

  “Then he needs to try again or he’s going to die,” Julian barked.

  “If he goes to rehab, he just leaves within a few days. The doctors say he has to want to kick the substance abuse. I don’t know what happened to him, but there’s more haunting him than he’s ever admitted. I know he watched Mom and Dad die right before his eyes, but it’s more than that. He’s scarred inside and out.” Feeling defeated, Micah turned away from Julian to go pack his bag. “I’ll go. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Micah stumbled as his vision filled with an ominous aura of color, and he automatically slapped his hand on the back of his neck.

  Shit! Not now. This couldn’t happen right now.

  Julian was next to Micah as he froze before entering the hallway.

  “Hey, bro, you okay? What’s wrong? Damn, you’re as white as a sheet.” Julian put his hand under Micah’s bicep. “You almost fell.”

  “I saw colors. I’m going to go lie down for a little while,” Micah admitted hoarsely, knowing he didn’t have long to explain.

  “The migraines are back?” Julian said anxiously. “I thought you outgrew them. I thought you hadn’t experienced them in years.”

  “I thought so, too,” Micah grumbled. “They started again not long ago. I came here because the doctor suggested some downtime. My executives are handling the business right now.”

  “You’re not eating right, not taking care of yourself, and you’re babysitting our baby brother, aren’t you?” Julian said angrily as he steered Micah toward the bedroom his brother had been using in the guesthouse. “Do you have pills?”

  “Yeah. They help some. I’ll sleep on the way to California.”

  Julian followed him. “You’re not going. Get your ass in a dark place and I’ll go deal with Xander. Looks like it’s my turn. Has it been that bad? Be straight with me, Micah.”

  “Yeah. It’s that bad. This is his third overdose, and most of the time he won’t answer messages. I have to go there to see if he’s ok
ay. He’s usually drunk and high as a kite on drugs. We need to cut off his source. The docs aren’t giving them to him, but he’s getting them somehow.” Micah collapsed on the bed, a dull ache starting behind his eye and shooting through the side of his head.

  Julian looked at the prescription bottle at the side of Micah’s bed before shaking out the tablets while going to get water from the bathroom. He returned and handed Micah the pills and a glass of water.

  Julian made a few calls to arrange his transportation to California, then told Micah, “I’ll be tempted to kick Xander’s ass, but I want to understand why he’s doing this. He was always the nicest out of the three of us. He didn’t drink much, and he sure as hell didn’t do drugs. What the fuck happened to him?”

  “Bring him here,” Micah demanded. “He needs a different scene. I don’t know if he’ll agree, but try.”

  “I’ll do more than try. I’ll drag his ass back here whether he likes it or not.”

  “Be careful. He bites now,” Micah warned, knowing Xander was beyond surly.

  “Then I’ll fucking bite him back,” Julian growled. “I’m sorry I have to go, Micah. I know you’ll be miserable. Anything else you need?”

  “Text Tessa for me. Her cell is in my phone. I can’t be with her today. Maybe tomorrow.” Gritting his teeth at the intense pain that shot through the right side of his head, Micah tried to stay aware of his surroundings and function a little longer.

  “Call me as soon as you can,” Julian said quietly and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Micah buried his head under the pillow, knowing Julian would take care of things. As kids, his brothers had seen him go through this many times. Julian knew he’d be back to normal in a day or two.

  As he finally gave in to the pain, Micah hoped that Julian could get through to Xander, do what he himself had failed to do: straighten Xander’s ass out for good.

  Tessa was getting her morning coffee when she noticed she had a text from Micah. For some reason, he must have left early this morning and hadn’t returned yet.

  She used a finger to open the text as she took her first sip of coffee.