Billionaire by the Sea

by Traci Hall

  Despite almost drowning, Michael’s time with Maggie had been the most restful he could recall spending with another person. As good as the hours spent searching the stars, looking into the heavens for his brother. His mother. He doubted his aunt would be in traditional heaven, but he looked for her anyway.

  “I will count down. Ten, five, two…one. Are you relaxed, Michael?”

  “Yes.” His body felt like he was floating. Womb-like, he imagined. Kind of like sleeping on the rocking boat.

  “Good. I’d like to ask you some questions.”

  His mind resisted, automatically, it seemed.

  “Just relax,” Elroy reminded in a soothing tone. After a few minutes of weightlessness, Elroy said, “I’d like you to remember yesterday. Do you remember what happened?”

  “I met Maggie.” His voice sounded low-keyed but normal to his own ears. Nothing to worry about.

  “Where did you meet her?”

  “She saved me. On the beach. I thought she was going to steal my watch.”

  He felt her shift and hoped she was smiling.

  “She saved you?”

  “I was on the beach,” Michael repeated. “No clothes, except my boxers. We found my pants on the pier.” He remembered feeling the cold ocean water, the dark night, the chilled wind. Saltwater lapping his face. “My watch glows in the moonlight. I knew to go west.” Mark told him, in his head.

  “Where were you?”

  “Overboard.” He struggled to bring the evening into focus. Damn it.

  “You were on a boat?”

  “Yes. The Diamond Girl.” Michael rocked back and forth on the couch. “I had an offer to merge my company with Mr. Moriaki for billions. Kayla said Micro Technology was not really my baby.” Kayla. She was in danger. Laughing close to his face, helping him. Telling him he should sell.

  “Who is Kayla?”

  “My assistant. My right-hand man. Like Bob Roberts, but prettier. He runs my business, she runs it all.”

  Big brown eyes, fake mink lashes. Not personal, she’d said. Business.

  “Is she worried about you?”

  “She was crying. On TV.” Don’t cry. But he remembered her laughing. Laughing at him as he stumbled up the stairs. Into the railing. “She thought I was drunk, I bet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She was with me, her and Ryo took me away from the dinner guests. So I wouldn’t embarrass myself, or her. Poor Kayla.”

  “Who is Ryo?”

  “Moriaki’s son. He liked Kayla, I could tell. She liked him too. They were flirting. Kissing.” Kissing? He frowned, trying to remember more.

  “You’re doing fine,” Elroy intoned. “Just fine. Breathe deep. Exhale.”

  Michael realized his body was tensed and followed Elroy’s instructions. Memories skipped away and he knew if he couldn’t find answers he’d go crazy. In, out. In, out. He remembered the feel of falling over the side of the yacht, his head spinning out of control on the way down. “I was sick,” he said. “Before I hit the water. That hurt, and it was so cold.” He shivered, his teeth chattering.

  “Sick is good,” Elroy said. “Perhaps it’s what allowed you to survive. To remember how to inflate your pants into a life preserver. That was very smart.”

  “My brother Mark is special ops. He taught me.” Michael touched his watch, the gift from his brother that meant everything. “He saved me, like Maggie. He brought me to Maggie.”

  “Mark is deceased?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Me too. The twinkle of stars above flashed and glittered. “I floated on my back. West. I tried to stay awake. There was something I had to remember. About Kayla. And Ryo.” His mind didn’t want to cooperate. A single tear made its way down his cheek.

  “They were with you on the deck when you went overboard?”

  “Helping me.” He stated the words but in his bones he knew that wasn’t true. Pain, sharp and straight to the heart, made him sit up and gasp. Eyes tightly closed he felt Kayla’s hands on his back, walking him toward the rail. Her pretty hair flew in front of her face. Ryo held his left arm.

  Feeling good yet? Ryo asked.

  I don’t want him to feel it at all, Kayla said.

  I handled it. And then Kayla’s hands shoved in the center of his back. Thanks for nothing, Boss. He’d fallen, head first, sick.

  Betrayed by someone he’d trusted. Not Kayla! Why? His chest ached and he tasted water at the back of his throat. Blood from where he’d bitten the inside of his cheek.

  “And you are coming out, three, two and one. Michael, breathe. In. Out. Whatever happened, you can tell us here. In Maggie’s house. You’re safe.”

  Maggie joined him on the couch, her arm around his back, her touch immediately warming the cold ache in his heart. “Michael? Are you all right?”

  “She pushed me over. Kayla. With Ryo.” He fisted his hands and looked at Elroy. “I don’t know why.”

  What reason could she have had? He’d trusted her!

  Chapter Ten

  Maggie, glued to Michael’s side, jumped when her cell phone rang.

  “Your lawyers?” She gave him the phone and tried to leave him so that he could have privacy, but he kept his hand on her leg, holding her in place.

  “Stay. I’m putting it on speaker.” He answered. “This is Michael Livingston.”

  “You’re really alive? I have security questions that you must answer,” the man said.

  “Good.” Michael cleared his throat. “The question is ‘what is my mother’s middle name’. The answer is that she didn’t have one. Jessup? Make sure Forbes is on the line too. I’ve got you on speaker here with the woman who found me.”

  “Why didn’t you call sooner? Go to the police?”

  “It’s complicated.” Michael’s tone sharpened. “It was an attempted murder.”

  “What?” The man called Forbes burst out, “Slow down. Give us details. Michael, how soon can you get into our office?”

  “I have no identification, no credit cards, and my accounts have been frozen. I need some help before I can do anything.”

  “We can handle all of that. It might take a few hours. Is there an address we can send it to?”

  Maggie nodded to Michael’s unspoken question.

  “Yes,” Michael said. Maggie gave the address.

  “Is this the lady that found you on the beach?” Jessup, a man with a higher pitch than his partner, asked.

  “I’m Maggie,” she said. “Maggie Kohl.”

  “Thank you. Would you care to tell us why you didn’t call the police? An ambulance? Take Mr. Livingston to the hospital?”

  Maggie heard the concern beneath the anger and understood where it was coming from. These very powerful men had been blind-sided and were now scrambling to make things right.

  “Jessup. She’s not responsible.” Michael’s voice turned ten degrees chillier and she got an insight to the powerful man in the boardroom.

  “Of course not,” Forbes said. “But who is?”

  Maggie heard the pain as Michael said, “Kayla Spence.”

  “Your assistant?” Jessup thundered.

  “And the heir to the Moriaki fortune, Ryo Moriaki. I don’t know how much the elder knew about what happened, but I was drugged and pushed overboard. Rohypnol, so I don’t have full recall of what happened. With the aid of a hypnotherapist I was able to remember some. I think it has to do with the merger they proposed. I didn’t want to sign.”

  “Kayla Spence was just named as the new CEO,” Forbes announced. “Maybe that’s why?”

  “I don’t know.” Michael swallowed hard and her heart went out to him. “Maybe she’ll tell me when they arrest her.”

  “You’re sure it was her?” Jessup asked.

  “Yes.”

  “We need you here, and we can make a formal statement together. Come up with a plan. They are still searching for your body in Miami. You are in Ft. Lauderdale?”

  �
��Yes.”

  “Moriaki was in on it too then, if it was his yacht. He’s saying he was south the entire night.”

  “I knew you guys could make sense of this.” Michael was so tense Maggie worried he’d snap in two.

  “Thank you, Maggie,” Jessup said. “We will send a packet of new documentation—driver’s license, cash, a plane ticket, and clothes. This afternoon. You’ll be home in time for dinner, Michael.”

  “Thank God.” Forbes coughed lightly as if to clear his throat. “It was a miracle.”

  “It was Maggie,” Michael said. “See you tonight. Thanks.”

  He ended the call and Maggie blinked away tears. “I am so sorry, Michael.”

  “I just want to know why. I paid her an excellent salary, plus bonuses. I thought we were friends.”

  Maggie didn’t have any answers.

  Uncle Elroy left, wishing Michael luck. He kissed Maggie’s cheek good-bye. “I think he cares for you, Maggie.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “It’s just a drama thing. Our lives will go back to normal, and he will forget all about me.”

  The idea stung. She knew she would never forget about Michael Livingston.

  Michael rose abruptly, full of conflicted energy. “Maggie, where can we go blow off some steam?”

  “I paddleboard.”

  He was afraid of that. Hadn’t she been on her way to do just that the morning she found him? The ocean didn’t seem like a good place to be, after all that had happened. “No lap pool around?” Adrenalin rushed through his veins and if he didn’t do something he’d explode.

  “The ocean,” she said, her eyes flashing. “I’ll be with you.”

  “Fine.” He couldn’t let his fear keep him from the water. From a woman he cared very much about.

  “Does that mean you want to try?”

  “Okay.” He wanted to spend every hour with Maggie—it had the essence of a last day, as if they wouldn’t see each other after this, and that added to his confusion.

  Within fifteen minutes, they were each pulling a paddleboard toward the ocean. Retracing the steps she’d taken when she’d found him only two days ago. Sun-screened, shaded, and baseball-capped—Michael wore her dad’s old swim trunks without care for the closet full of designer suits back in Utah.

  She was an amazing teacher. Patient, relaxed, calm. Even when he fell in, he didn’t panic—she was right there, encouraging him. The sky was blue, the breeze a reprieve from the sunshine. The board required balance and concentration and riding the small waves became easier as the hours passed. Through it all, Michael kept his gaze on Maggie. Tall, lithe, blonde and care-free, he wanted her, forever. Because of the way he’d been raised, he didn’t do casual relationships. He’d been waiting for the right woman. Her laugh sparked his, her joy soothed his hurts. She was the missing piece of his heart. Had fate somehow steered him toward his soulmate?

  If he shared his thoughts, she’d laugh at him for sure. Nobody fell in love this fast—but he had.

  Later, they each rested on their boards in a shaded area by the Intracoastal. Mangroves rooted themselves in the sandy soil, their branches in the water, the green leaves rustling in a gentle breeze.

  “We have giant lakes,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Perfect for paddle-boarding.”

  Maggie tilted her head and smiled openly, her fingers interlaced with his. “Are you suggesting a visit?”

  The water was so shallow that he could easily see the white sand at the bottom and the tiny fish darting around their feet. “A person can like both the mountains and the ocean.”

  She laughed softly. “True.”

  He got up from his board to sit on hers. They’d been sneaking kisses like newlyweds all day, and he hungered for her however she could share herself with him. “I know this is quick. I know it makes no logical sense. But I want to be together.”

  Her fine blonde brow arched in question.

  Michael kissed her deeply, his hand on the warm, firm flesh of her upper thigh.

  “Just hear me out,” he said, once he pulled back from their merged mouths. “I am a risk taker—you have to be, in business. The secret to my success is knowing when to press forward.” He stared into her blue-green eyes. Her golden blonde lashes were real, without mascara. Just beautifully Maggie.

  “That doesn’t sound very romantic, does it?” He bowed his head, wishing for pretty words to convince her to be with him.

  “I’m listening, Michael.” She lifted his chin and kissed his mouth, her eyes wide open and filled with, dare he hope, love? “I can’t stop touching you. I need to be near you, too.” They were face to face on her paddleboard, knee to knee on the bobbing water.

  “I can move here,” he said. “Open a Micro Technologies office. I’m ready to grow the business, and why not Ft. Lauderdale?” He didn’t care about Kayla, or the Moriakis, knowing his lawyers would ensure justice was done.

  “You would do that?” She sounded incredulous.

  He skimmed his palm over the warm skin of her shoulder. “I want to be with you—no matter what it costs. I’d give you everything, Maggie.”

  “I believe you. It sounds crazy, but I feel it in my heart.” She put her hand over his bare chest and he wondered if she could feel the pounding of his heart, it beat so hard and fast for her. “We fit. I’ll go to Utah with you, too. We don’t have to figure out the details right this second. We are, in this moment, in love.”

  Of course she would understand—she was his other half. Relieved, his shoulders relaxed at the sensuous curve of her mouth. “Thank you for rescuing me that day on the beach.”

  “Oh, Michael.” She flipped the paddleboard so they both landed in the water, and Maggie came up spluttering, her mouth on his, her arms around his neck. “I told you the ocean would be fun, didn’t I?”

  As he held her close, their hands entwined, Michael knew he’d earned the greatest riches of all—Maggie’s heart.

  SANTA BABY

  by the Sea

  April

  Dillon Bakersfield pocketed the key to the hotel room he had to share with his buddy, Keelson Davey. “Just remember that we’re staying at the Sea Grape Hotel, okay?”

  “I grabbed a piece of stationary from the desk with the address in case I get too drunk and have to be returned to sender.” Davey grinned with an “aw, shucks” expression that went with his boy-next-door looks and pulled the folded paper from his back jeans’ pocket as proof.

  Just docked in Jacksonville after a four-month deployment up to Bahrain, Guam and Singapore, and along the Pacific coast, the brothers-in-arms were in town for some offshore diving this sliver of beach was famous for. It being a weekend, and Season in South Florida, they were lucky to get rooms at all.

  Johnny Mack and Scott Chapman came out of their room to join him and Davey on the second floor landing. The warm spring evening held a touch of humidity saved by the breeze off the water. “The woman at the registration desk mentioned a bunch of bars, about three blocks down.” Mack, the only blond of the four, stuck his key in the side pocket of his cargo shorts. “She gave me a ten percent off coupon.”

  “Cool,” Chapman said, sliding on his Ray Bans. Probably out of habit, Dillon figured, since the sun was close to setting. “I’m ready for a drink.”

  “Bakersfield, you drive worse than you fly,” Davey joked. “Didn’t think that was possible.”

  Dillon shoved past Davey toward the stairs down to the street. “My truck is the only one of our vehicles that would fit us all, and our dive equipment, so suck it up, buttercup.” There was no hiding the fact that despite t-shirts, shorts or jeans, the four men were military. Matching haircuts gave it away.

  “We made the four and a half hour drive in under four. I say that’s excellent driving.” Chapman added, “And without a ticket.”

  Jacksonville to Ft. Lauderdale was a straight shot south on I-95, so it had been an easy ride. Dillon kept on the sidewalk to the right, along the strip of hotels, but gestured
to the turquoise ocean on their left, visible between breaks in the sea grape hedge. “There’s the beach. The coral reef is a hundred yards out.”

  Born and raised in Jacksonville, he’d grown up on the Atlantic Ocean and the Saint John’s River but the Gulf was just a few hours across the state. He’d spent his youth surfing, scuba diving, snorkeling. Joining the Navy right out of high school had made sense, what with the Naval base there heavily recruiting. He’d tested to be a Navy Seal but fell in love with flying helicopters. Taking off and landing on the aircraft carriers or destroyers took precision and skill, and offered a thrill he’d never found anywhere else.

  “Hear that?” Davey asked, cupping his hand around his ear. “Sounds like Jimmy Buffet. And that means tequila.”

  The synthesizer music grew louder as they neared a long pier that had a covered bar with panoramic ocean views on either side. Palm trees surrounded the wooden deck, with cheerful tiki torches flickering at the corners.

  They’d reached a roundabout in the center of town where it looked like a stage was being put up for live music, probably later on that night. In between the two streets of restaurants and tourist shops was a paved area with chairs and benches. Alternating yellow, blue, green and pink, the seats were all filled with folks drinking and eating ice cream. Families with little kids played giant Jenga or Connect 4.

  Dillon preferred adult entertainments and faced the bar. “If the diving sucks tomorrow, we can always go to Miami, or Key Largo.”

  “Nude beach?” Chapman asked hopefully.

  “If we wanted to go the Keys, we could be there in four hours,” Mack said. Like Dillon, he was a Florida native. Their state was thin, but long.

  “Even with the way Bakersfield drives?” Davey asked. “I smell burgers. I’m starving.” He thumped his flat stomach.

  “You are always starving,” Dillon said dismissively. “Drinks first. For Anderson.” He pointed toward a dude with purple dreadlocks playing the keyboard. “That’s where the music is coming from. Should we try it?”

  “We’re following you,” Chapman said.