The Billionaire's Passion

by Olivia Thorne

  Before we leave the car, Grant stuffs a thousand dollars in the glove compartment.

  “Why are you doing that?” I asked.

  “We stole it.”

  “So why aren’t you leaving more?”

  “They’ll get it back. It’s mostly for the inconvenience. It’s good karma.”

  “A cat burglar is telling me about good karma,” I mutter to myself as I open the car door and get out.

  17

  And so begins one of the strangest journeys I’ve ever taken. I will never look at a building the same way ever again.

  Grant picks a lock at a service entrance. Then we find a service elevator. From there we climb through a trapdoor in the top of the elevator (he has to boost me up). Once we get into the elevator shaft, we climb a ladder for what seems like an eternity until we enter what he says is an air conditioning duct. From there we somehow wind up in a maintenance crawlspace in a wall.

  “How did you know this was here?” I ask, then immediately answer my own question. “Because you designed the building.”

  “Nope,” he says cheerfully. “I just did some redesign work for the owner, so I know the blueprints. Photographic memory, remember?”

  “We’re breaking into this person’s apartment, and you think he’s going to help you?”

  “Well, he kind of owes me one.”

  “I hope his definition of ‘owing you one’ is the same as your definition.”

  “That makes two of us.’

  “What did you do for him?”

  “I convinced my father to be one of his first investors when his own father disowned him.”

  “Wait – so he’s not a criminal?” I ask, surprised.

  “No,” he says, offended. “Why would I go get help from a criminal?”

  “Because we’re… never mind. Did that help him a lot?”

  “Helped make him a billionaire.”

  “Oh…”

  “Plus I dropped some other clients and designed a building for him back in LA, too, a while back.”

  “I would lead with the whole ‘helped make you a billionaire’ thing rather than the ‘I designed a building for you.’”

  Grant grins. “Yeah, I think he’ll remember that part.”

  After a half hour crawling around in the bowels of the building, we finally reach our destination.

  “We’re here,” he announces.

  Except it’s a dead end.

  Just a blank wall of sheetrock.

  “What?” I ask, surprised.

  “Start kickin’.”

  “What?!”

  He suddenly slams his foot against the sheetrock.

  I want to scream, but I figure that’s probably not the wisest thing when breaking and entering.

  Not that kicking in a bunch of sheetrock is, either.

  Thirty seconds later, there’s a person-sized hole torn in the wall.

  We crawl through on our hands and knees, covered in white dust like a bakery just exploded.

  A few feet in, I lift my head and freeze. “Uh… Grant?”

  “What?” he asks, then looks up to see what I’m staring at. “Oh.”

  There’s a very surprised woman, probably mid-twenties, staring at us with wide eyes. She’s a cute brunette, fairly short, and dressed in a designer skirt suit. She looks fairly familiar… like I’ve seen her before…

  In front of her is an Asian guy in a black suit with a gun pointed at Grant’s head.

  “Facedown on the floor and spread your arms and legs out now,” the guy commands us.

  I’m spread-eagled with my nose in the carpet in 1.2 seconds flat.

  Grant? Not so much.

  “Uh… I know this looks bad, but I can explain,” Grant says, still on his hands and knees.

  “I SAID, facedown on the floor and spread your arms and legs out NOW!”

  “Is your boss here?” Grant asks. “I just need a word with him.”

  “Grant,” I whisper in a panic. “Please, just do what he says!”

  The Asian guy’s losing patience. “I swear to God, if you’re not facedown on the floor by the time I count to three – ”

  “What’s going on in here?” a deep voice calls out.

  I look up to see an incredibly gorgeous guy in a suit stride in.

  The brunette chick runs over to his side, and he steps in front of her protectively.

  “Stay back, these guys are crazy,” the Asian guy calls out. “They punched through the damn wall.”

  “Connor?” Grant calls out.

  The gorgeous guy squints in bewilderment – and then walks over like he’s trying to make out Grant’s face. Which isn’t exactly easy to do, given all the sheetrock dust all over him.

  “Connor, no!” the Asian guy and the brunette say at the same time.

  Suddenly Connor breaks into a humongous grin, pushes aside his bodyguard’s gun, and extends a hand to Grant to help him up off the floor. “You crazy son of a bitch… when I said to drop in anytime, I meant for you to use the front door.”

  18

  First we make our introductions, which are awkward to say the least. You know, given that we just broke into their home through the bedroom wall.

  The brunette’s name is Lily; she’s Connor’s fiancée. The bodyguard’s name is Johnny. Grant met them months before, but they didn’t recognize him because of the sheetrock dust.

  Speaking of which, we wipe off the worst of the white powder, but we’re not offered showers or clean clothes. There’s the unspoken threat that we might be going to the police station very soon.

  Grant tackles the elephant in the room immediately. “I’m assuming you’ve seen the news?”

  “News? What news?” Connor jokes. “You mean the national, wall-to-wall coverage?”

  “It’s not what it looks like.” Grant looks over at Lily. “Someone’s trying to destroy me through the media.”

  “I have a little bit of experience with that,” Lily sighs – and suddenly I know where I’ve seen her. She and Connor were part of a huge scandal about six months ago where they were photographed having sex outside a Las Vegas condo. It was all over the news for weeks.

  I remember the photos and blush.

  Lily sees me react, and she laughs. “Oh, so you remember it, too.”

  “Uh… yeah…”

  “Unfortunately, what we got blackmailed for was true,” Connor says. “Just not the sort of thing you want other people to see pictures of. The question is, how much of what they’re saying about you is legit?”

  Grant makes a face. “There’s a lot of… context involved.”

  “I sense a story coming on,” Connor says wryly.

  19

  Grant tells them everything – and I mean everything. From his origins as a burglar, to the two women he found captive in the house, to rappelling down the side of the skyscraper.

  The story pretty much leaves our hosts speechless.

  “…okay…” Connor says after Grant’s finished.

  Lily looks shell-shocked. “And I thought crazy drama happened to us.”

  Johnny the Asian bodyguard just looks at us like What planet did you freaks come from?

  “I know it sounds insane – ” Grant begins.

  “Yeah,” Connor agrees. “If I didn’t know you, Carlson, I would assume you and Eve here just broke out of the funny farm.”

  “But you do know me,” Grant says. “And we didn’t.”

  “Break out of the funny farm,” I clarify.

  Connor smiles at me, then turns back to Grant. “So… where do I come in?”

  “I need your help.”

  Connor sighs. “I was afraid of that.”

  “You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t incredibly important.”

  “So this is you cashing in all your favors, huh?”

  “Look… I know that what I’m asking you right now is worth a whole lot more than getting my dad to invest in you – ”

  “When I said I owed you all thos
e years ago, I meant it, Grant. But I meant more along the lines of ‘Ask me if you ever need a loan for your business.’”

  “I’m a billionaire, Connor. From a family of billionaires,” Grant says, deadpan. “I think I could get a loan if I needed one.”

  “Grant, I can’t aid and abet a criminal. It would destroy my business if it got out.”

  “I’m not a criminal.”

  Connor raises one eyebrow. Lily gives him a Whaaaat? expression. Even I stare at him in surprise.

  “I haven’t been charged or convicted in a court of law,” Grant points out.

  Connor laughs. “That’s splitting hairs.”

  “Still – ”

  “Answer me one question: is it true what they’re saying in the media? The part about the stolen artwork – is that part true?”

  Grant grits his teeth. “…yes.”

  Connor throws up his hands like Well what do you expect ME to do?

  “But I haven’t even been charged yet,” Grant protests.

  “I have a feeling that’s coming,” Connor assures him.

  “I’m not a criminal.”

  “If by ‘criminal’ you mean someone who has been convicted of a crime, then no, you’re not a criminal… but if you mean ‘someone who commits crimes,’ like stealing priceless pieces of art, then yeah, you kind of are.”

  I don’t want to… I try to resist it with all my might… but I’m overtaken by an overwhelming impulse to speak up in Grant’s defense.

  I know I sound crazy when I do it; hell, I sound crazy to myself. But I do it anyway.

  “He was going to give them back,” I say.

  “Exactly!” Grant agrees.

  “‘Scuse me officer, I was just taking this Porsche I stole for a joy ride, I was going to give it back, so it’s really not stealing at all,” Connor says.

  “He returned the first painting he ever stole to the Louvre,” I argue. “Which he stole from a thief or a black market collector, I might add.”

  “Very admirable. Unfortunately for him, he kept the other twelve.”

  “Those paintings would still be in the hands of black market collectors if it weren’t for Grant. In a way, you could say he liberated them and allowed them to be brought back to their true owners.” I pause. “…eventually.”

  “You are really reaching on this one,” Connor says.

  “Not to mention those two women would be dead, along with countless others.”

  I see Lily flinch, and I know I’ve struck a chord. I might just have an ally, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

  “Two women he saved, at the risk of his own life,” I emphasize.

  Lily looks over at Connor. I can see the sympathy in her eyes.

  Connor sighs. “Look, I’m not saying your little sideline hasn’t resulted in any good, Carlson – obviously it has – but that doesn’t absolve you of the main crimes.”

  “There are extenuating circumstances,” I insist.

  “Great, bring them up at his sentencing,” Connor shoots back.

  “He was going to return the paintings,” I repeat.

  “That’s his word against – ”

  I talk over him. “He removed the paintings from the clutches of black market collectors who would have never given the paintings up.”

  “That’s not a valid – ”

  “And he saved two women’s lives and stopped a serial killer’s rampage. That has to count for something.”

  “Jesus, Carlson, do you always take your lawyer along with you when you break into other people’s places?” Connor sighs.

  “She’s my computer hacker,” Grant says, and gives me a grin and a wink.

  “Which explains the depth of her legal reasoning,” Connor says. “Look – ”

  “If we get caught, then Epicurus knows exactly where we are,” I say. “Which will make us sitting ducks.”

  I have no idea if that’s true or not, but it seems pretty plausible.

  “My take on it is he just wants to ruin your life,” Connor says.

  “Or make it a whole lot harder to evade him,” Grant points out. “And make absolutely sure we can’t go to the police for their help.”

  “True,” Connor concedes.

  “Grant could have turned his back on those two women, walked away, and gone on with his life,” I argue. “But he put everything on the line – his life, his job, his freedom, everything – to make sure they got out safely.”

  “And I applaud him for that. But – ”

  “If you turn us in – ”

  “I’m not going to turn you in. Jesus,” Connor swears.

  “Fine. But if you turn us away – ”

  “Then it would be like if Grant walked away from those two women and let the serial killer have them,” Lily says quietly.

  The entire room goes silent.

  I’ve found my ally.

  “Lily – ” Connor says in a Come on, be reasonable tone of voice.

  “Your parents have done tons of illegal things,” Lily says. “So has Miranda. They get off scot-free all the time. And they never, ever saved women from a serial killer.”

  “It’s not the same thing,” Connor says.

  “I know. They’re awful, and they keep making billions. Grant’s not awful, and he’s going to die if we don’t do something.”

  Connor groans and collapses in his chair. “Get Eve to argue your case, Carlson. If she can convince Lily, I’m sure she can get at least one jury member to side with you, too.”

  “The question is, did she persuade you?” Grant asks.

  Connor sighs and looks over at his fiancée. She watches him expectantly.

  “Fuck it, why not,” Connor groans.

  Lily breaks out into a grin and kisses him. When she looks over at me, we share a conspiratorial smile.

  “So… what do you need,” Connor asks grumpily.

  “I need to borrow a private jet to Paris.”

  There’s a moment of silence.

  Then Connor quips, “You sure I can’t interest you in that loan?”

  19

  “Why the hell do you need my private jet to take you to Paris?” Connor asks.

  “I can’t exactly arrange my own flight, now can I?” Grant answers. “Law enforcement has probably grounded all my planes, and good luck trying to bribe a private pilot to get me out of the country.”

  Connor shrugs. “For the right price…”

  “I don’t know who I can trust. I don’t even know if I can trust my own men right now. You’re the only one I could turn to.”

  “Lucky me,” Connor sighs. “Why Paris? Why not somewhere they can’t extradite you?”

  “Because I’m not worried about being extradited; I’m worried about Epicurus. I need a country that has cutting-edge technology if Eve is going to have a shot at discovering who he is, and Mauritania or Cambodia isn’t going to cut it. Plus, I have connections in Paris. It’ll be easier to go underground there.”

  “Hm,” Connor says. “Look, I want to help you…”

  “…but?”

  “If the authorities find out, I’m in as much trouble as you are.”

  Grant scoffs. “Unlikely.”

  “Well, a shitload of trouble, then. Trouble I don’t need.”

  “How are they going to find out?”

  Connor grimaces. “I don’t know, but they generally do. And they absolutely will if I help you out. Murphy’s Law.”

  “What if I could give you an alibi?” I ask.

  Connor looks at me. “How are you going to do that?”

  “Magic.”

  20

  I’m sitting in front of a laptop Connor provided. He, Lily, Johnny, and Grant are all standing behind me as I finish typing and hit ENTER.

  “Done,” I announce.

  “Okay… so what did you just do?” Connor asks.

  “I created a record at the phone company of a seven-minute phone call between you and Grant yesterday evening at 7:02PM, before the news ab
out the art collection broke,” I explain.

  “But I didn’t give you my number,” Connor says.

  Grant shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “But – ”

  “Don’t ask.”

  I continue, “You’re going to call the cops when we’re out of here and tell them that Grant asked you for help, and that he was trying to get to Mexico. You said you couldn’t help him until today because all your planes were either in the air or grounded for maintenance.”

  “But they weren’t,” Connor said.

  “As of five minutes ago, all your internal company records show they were,” I said.

  “…you can do that?!”

  I nod.

  “Jesus,” Connor murmurs.

  Grant elbows him. “What’d I tell you?”

  I continue: “You got up late so you didn’t look at the news right away. When you did, you decided to call the cops immediately and tell them about your phone call.”

  “But for all this to work, the fake call from last night would have to be on my cell phone, too,” Connor says.

  “Look at it,” I tell him. “Under Recent Calls.”

  Connor pulls out his cell phone. Lily and Johnny both watch as he taps the screen.

  “Oh my God!” Lily cries out.

  “Whoa,” Johnny says.

  Connor looks up. “How’d you do that?”

  I smile. “Magic.”

  “Okay, so I’ve got an alibi – but that doesn’t help you out at all.”

  “I see you’ve got some sort of small jet off the books, housed at a small private airfield 30 miles away from here.”

  Connor just stares at me.

  “Why do you have a jet plane off the books?” Lily asks suspiciously.

  “In case the shit ever hits the fan, that’s why.”

  “What’d I tell you?” Grant says to me. “And he’s not even a cat burglar.”

  “How’d you find that?!” Connor asks.

  “Magic.”

  “No, seriously.”

  “Tell your guys they need to bury the jet fuel delivery manifesto better.”

  Connor shakes his head in wonder. “When this is all over, come see me. I have an ex-girlfriend I could use your help with…”