Billionaire Beast (Billionaires - Book #12)

by Claire Adams

  That’s why I owe so much to Danna.

  I’d still take care of her just because she’s my sister and my twin and she’s sick, but ever since she helped me see the other side of what happened to Mom and Dad, I’ve been very protective of her.

  Sitting on the couch now, Danna’s talking about something which, even hearing it, I can’t begin to pronounce.

  “…it’s supposed to make relapses less frequent and less severe,” she says. “It’s really a wonder more people don’t know about it.”

  “Where do you get this stuff?” I ask.

  “Oh, my friend Jade knows the holistic healer that discovered it,” she says. “She’s going to introduce me to him tomorrow—he’s coming over here. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m still not quite ready to get out on the town and everything.”

  “I wish you’d stop doing that,” I tell her.

  “Doing what?” she asks.

  “Getting your hopes up every time some charlatan tells you they’ve got the cure for MS,” I tell her.

  I may be protective of her, but that doesn’t mean that I’m always nice about it.

  “I never said it was a cure,” she says. “I’m just saying that, you know, if this stuff can even make things a little easier, wouldn’t that be worth it?”

  “You don’t know what this stuff is,” I tell her.

  “Of course I do,” she says, “it’s [enter word I cannot pronounce or spell here].”

  “And where does it come from? Is it a plant or is it some kind of chemical? Have you done any independent research on it to see what kind of effects it might actually have that people other than your friend’s guru have documented?” I ask. “Danna, you can’t keep doing this. Every time something turns out to be a waste of money, it knocks your legs out from under you, and I’m sick of seeing it.”

  “It’s not like that,” she says. “Everyone’s body reacts differently.”

  Danna’s not the hippie type, but after an episode, she’s always on the lookout for something, anything, that might make things easier. I don’t begrudge her that, but at the same time, it’s hard to see her so disappointed.

  “People’s bodies react differently to some degree,” I tell her, “but something that’s actually as profound a medicine as that crap you’ve already tried doesn’t just work for a handful of people you’ve never met. They work for most people.”

  “They worked for me a little bit,” she says. “For a few days at least, I think most of them made some kind of difference.”

  “Yeah,” I tell her, “it’s called the placebo effect.”

  “Why are you being such a dick about this?” she asks.

  “I’m not,” I tell her. “I’m just trying to get you to understand that sometimes the answers just aren’t easy. Sometimes there’s just not some secret formula that’s going to make everything in the world better.”

  “You’re an asshole,” she says, getting up from the couch, “you know that?”

  “Danna, calm down,” I tell her, but she’s already walking out of the room.

  I could get up and chase her, but what would be the point? We’re not going to agree on this and we’re going to end up pissing each other off.

  As long as the stuff she’s taking isn’t actually going to harm her, I’m all right with it in principle, but every time something new doesn’t work out it’s like she just got the diagnosis.

  The doorbell rings and Danna yells, “I’ll get it!”

  I hear the door open and I hear distant voices, but I can’t tell what’s being said or who’s at the door.

  The door closes after about a minute and I don’t hear anything about it.

  I get up and find Danna in her room, scrolling through online dating profiles on her computer.

  “Who was at the door?” I ask.

  “That actress,” she says. “What’s her name?”

  “Which actress?” I ask.

  “The one you’re working with right now,” she says, scratching the back of her head, “the main one.”

  “Emma?” I ask. “The one that I’m dating?”

  “Yeah,” Danna says. “She said she came by because you hadn’t been to the set today. She said they’d worked everything out, so you’d be fine, but that she was worried about you.”

  “Why didn’t you let her in?” I ask.

  “I wasn’t in the mood for company,” she says. “You’ve kind of spoiled my afternoon.”

  “Why didn’t you at least let me know that she was at the door?” I ask.

  “We were talking,” she says. “We were busy.”

  “What were you talking about?” I ask.

  Danna smiles.

  “What did you do?” I ask.

  Danna’s a good person, but sometimes she lashes out in some pretty strange and often destructive ways.

  “I probably shouldn’t have,” Danna giggles, “but when I opened the door and saw that surprised look on her face because it was me she saw and not you on the other side of it, I just had to.”

  “What did you do?” I ask again.

  “I was just messing around with her,” Danna says.

  “Yeah, you were messing around with her because you’re pissed off at me,” I say. “What did you say to her?”

  “I just told her that I was a long lost love of yours and that we’ve decided to reconnect,” she says.

  “You’re kidding,” I laugh.

  “Nope,” she says.

  “You’re kidding,” I repeat. “She knows I have a sister and that you live with me. She wouldn’t have bought it.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think she was really remembering the whole twin sister thing when I was talking to her,” Danna says. “After that, I’m thinking about taking up a career in acting, to be honest with you. It was one hell of a performance. I really had her going.”

  “But you told her that you were just joking, right?” I ask.

  Danna doesn’t answer.

  “You told her that you’re my sister, right?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I was planning to get around to that, but the way she just stormed off, I never had a chance,” she says.

  “What the hell is your problem?” I ask. “Things have already been strained with Emma and me. We really didn’t need this right now.”

  “Well, maybe you’ll think about that the next time you go off on me for trying to find things that might actually help me get better,” she says.

  Now, this I can’t believe.

  “What is your problem?” I ask her. “I tell you that stuff that hasn’t worked for you in the past hasn’t worked for you in the past and you use that as an excuse to try and fuck with my relationship—the first relationship I’ve really even had since Jamie.”

  “This isn’t about that,” Danna says. “I’m sure Emma’s a very nice girl.”

  I pull out my phone. “I want you to call her,” I tell Danna. “I’ll put in the number, but I want you to explain that you’re my sister and that you were just playing a practical joke on her and then I want you to apologize.”

  “You can want whatever you like,” Danna says, “but that don’t mean it’s gonna happen.”

  “Why do you have to make everything more complicated?” I ask her. “Whenever you come across something that’s working or something that people are trying to make work, you’ve just got to shit on it?”

  “I don’t do that,” she says. “I played one stupid joke and you’re freaking out about it.”

  “It’s not just one stupid joke,” I tell her. “I am so sick of these little moods you get in when you’re miffed at me.”

  “Miffed?” she asks. “Who are you, my third grade English teacher?”

  “Danna, I really didn’t need this right now,” I tell her.

  “Mrs. Porter!” Danna announces. “That was her name.”

  “Yeah,” I tell her, “I know. I was in your class. I want you to apologize and I want you to mean it. Then,” I tell her, “I want you to offer t
o take her to dinner to show her that you’re really sorry.”

  “And what, pray tell, are you going to do if I don’t?” she asks.

  “First off, will you grow up?” I ask. “Second off, I’m starting to think that maybe you living here is going to be a bad idea.”

  “You’re going to kick me out if I don’t apologize to your girlfriend?” she asks.

  “Danna, there are things I can help you with and things that I can’t help you with. You’re recovering from your last episode and I think now just might be a good time for us to start looking for a place for you to keep as your own,” I tell her.

  Would I really kick my sister out of my house?

  I know I wouldn’t do it for screwing with Emma, although I am pretty pissed about that.

  If anything, I think I’m just trying to get her to pull her head out of her ass and start listening to me.

  Phone in hand, I pull up Emma’s number and I press the call button.

  I hand the phone to Danna and says, “Be nice.”

  Danna rolls her eyes at me.

  “Yeah, is this Emma?” she asks. “Yeah, hey, this is Danna, Damian’s sister. I played a bit of a trick on you and it was kind of mean…yeah, that was me. It’s just one of those things where I thought it would be funny, but it ended up going too far, and I just wanted to tell you that I’m really sorry and that Damian had nothing to do with it.”

  I tap Danna on the shoulder and whisper, “Dinner.”

  Danna rolls her eyes at me again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dinner and the Perils of the Trade

  Emma

  I’m sitting in the restaurant, and just like with the radio interview, I’ve made the mistake of arriving too early. At least this time, the only consequence is that I have to sit at the table alone for a few minutes.

  It gives me a little time to reflect on what’s about to happen, though.

  Danna is Damian’s twin sister, and although she was kind enough to call, apologize, and invite me out to dinner with her and her brother, I really get the feeling that she doesn’t really like me. A joke’s a joke, but it wasn’t too hard to see that the mea culpa was coerced.

  When the two of them come into the restaurant, I see her first.

  The guy working the front points Damian and Danna in my direction, and I get ready for whatever’s about to happen.

  “Hey there,” Danna says, for the first time as herself to me in person. “I’m glad you could make it. Have you been waiting long?”

  Half an hour.

  “No,” I answer.

  I’ve really got to stop getting to things early. It just creates a lot of waiting.

  We sit down and share a few pleasantries. Danna apologizes again and I pretend like it didn’t bother me, and that after I found out what was really going on, I found the whole thing really funny.

  “So, you’re not going to believe this—Damian, I forgot to tell this earlier,” Danna says out of the blue. “Today, you got another letter from that crazy lady,” she says. “Apparently, wedding plans are moving forward.”

  I smile and chuckle because I don’t know that’s not what I’m supposed to do.

  “She didn’t leave anything but the note this time, did she?” Damian asks.

  “No,” Danna says. “She just wrote the whole thing using what may or may not be paint all over the road outside the house. I figured you’d see it when you got home, but I figured it might not be a bad idea if you’ve got a bit of a heads-up about it. She’s starting to sound a little desperate.”

  “You’re not joking?” I ask.

  “Sadly,” Damian says, “no. For the last couple of months, there’s been this woman who’s been sending me notes and leaving me weird crap—”

  “Those flowers were pretty cool,” Danna says.

  “Yeah, but the bag full of bloody tofu wasn’t,” he says.

  “Bloody tofu?” I ask. “Flowers? Do you even know this woman?”

  “No,” Damian says. “She’s never stuck around long enough for anyone to catch her in the act.”

  “Why wouldn’t you tell me about this?” I ask.

  “We’ve already taken all of the precautions that we can,” he says. “I just didn’t want to worry you.”

  “How can I not be worried?” I ask. “You’ve got a stalker.”

  I’m starting to feel like a nag again, but I haven’t told you about the phone call I got while I was waiting for Damian and Danna to get here. I’ll give you more on that in a little bit.

  “She’s very persistent,” Danna laughs.

  I just ignore her, but Damian seems pretty irritated by his twin’s amusement.

  “Do they think they’re going to be able to get it off the road or are there going to be pictures of that all over the news tonight?” he asks.

  “I wouldn’t worry about that,” I tell him.

  “Why?” he asks.

  “I’m sure they’ll get rid of it after they’ve taken pictures for evidence and all that,” Danna says.

  “I just don’t know why you didn’t tell me about this before, Damian,” I say. “I’m not mad or anything, I would just like to know when the guy I’m dating is being harassed by some crazy stalker.”

  “I think we throw the word ‘crazy’ around all too much these days,” Danna says.

  “Is there any way you could keep your ridiculous sense of humor to yourself?” Damian asks her.

  “Hey,” I tell him. “It’s all right. Calm down.”

  “Well, you two decide what you want. I’m going to pop into the little girl’s room,” Danna says.

  “Do you want us to order you something if the waiter gets here before you’re back?” I ask.

  “That’s all right,” she says, and gets up from the table.

  “So, how long has she been stalking you?” I ask.

  “Like I said,” he says, “it’s been a couple of months. She’s been quiet for a little bit, though. I was kind of hoping she’d moved on or something.”

  “And you’ve never seen her face-to-face?” I ask.

  “If I have,” he says, “I didn’t know it.”

  “There’s a creepy thought,” I tell him.

  We chat a little and when the waiter gets to the table we order our food. We don’t order anything for Danna because she didn’t tell us what she wanted.

  Come to think of it, she has been in the bathroom for a pretty long time.

  Danna has MS. Damian told me about that. I wonder if she’s okay.

  “I’m going to go freshen up while we wait for our meal,” I tell him. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay,” he says. “While you’re in there, would you mind checking on Danna? I’m sure she’s fine and everything, but—is that weird to ask?”

  “Not at all,” I tell him. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  So, I head to the bathroom, only Danna’s not in there. I walk back out and look around the restaurant in case I missed her, but she’s nowhere around.

  Not really seeing the purpose in checking outside, I walk back to the table.

  “Is she doing all right?” Damian asks.

  “She wasn’t in there,” I tell him.

  “She took off?” he asks.

  “It would appear that way,” I tell him.

  “Fantastic,” he says. “I don’t know what her problem is lately.”

  “Do you need to go after her?” I ask.

  “No,” he says. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s just pissed at the world right now, I think. Oh well. Hey,” he says, “things still messed up with your dad?”

  “No,” I tell him. “And I’d really rather not talk about that.”

  “All right,” he says.

  For a few glorious seconds, I think that we’ve moved on and we’re going to spend the rest of the evening discussing other things, but Damian just can’t let go.

  “I just wanted to let you know that I understand why you wouldn’t want to talk to him,” he s
ays. “But at the same time, that was what, like 10 years ago?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell him.

  “Did it go on after that?” he asks. “How old were you when it stopped?”

  “Damian,” I warn him, “let it go.”

  “I’m telling you that I understand,” he says. “Only that it might be time to revisit the idea of getting back in touch with him. It doesn’t even have to be on this trip or anything, you could just start calling each other every once in a while, you know, try to rebuild a foundation of trust and—”

  “Damian,” I say in a very calm, quiet voice, very aware of the fact that after the phone call a few minutes before Damian arrived, people in the restaurant are starting to become much more aware of my presence, “for the love of God, take the hint and drop it. This is not something I want to talk about here and it’s not something I’m going to talk about here. Suffice it to say that my dad didn’t stop damaging the world when he stopped hurting us.”

  “Okay,” Damian says. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so obsessed with the idea of you and your father reconciling.”

  I glance around and those that aren’t actually staring at me are being nudged by their dinner companions who are.

  Exactly how something like this spread in a restaurant is beyond me, but there’s no mistaking that I’ve become the focus of the whole place. It’s so bad that even Damian starts to notice it.

  “I guess we should have thought about whether or not we should do the dining in public thing right now while there’s so much press about us,” he says.

  “That’s not it,” I tell him.

  “What is it then?” he asks.

  “Before you got here, I got a call,” I start. “It was Ben. He told me that he’d already spent the last money I sent him on a down payment for something and that he needed me to send him more. I told him that I was sick of being at his beck and call while he blackmails me, so I told him I wasn’t going to do it.”

  “What’d he say?” Damian asks.

  “What do you think he said?” I ask, and casually gesture toward the sea of faces that are looking between their phones and me.