Battling the Billionaire

by Kate Ashgrove

  Jenna kept her mouth shut, hoping she would leave.

  “Or maybe you’re more of a revenge girl. If I found out a man was pursuing me because it made his company look good I’d be after more than his brains.” She held out the bottle, watching Jenna, as if waiting for her reaction.

  Jenna ignored the offer, trying to keep a neutral expression as the comment sunk in. It was all starting to make sense. Why else would a handsome billionaire make such an effort to gain the affection of a girl like Jenna, who gave herself haircuts and bought her makeup at the dollar store? Her chest tightened, and the motion in the room suddenly made her queasy.

  Peyton gave Jenna a pitying look. “Don’t be too hard on Devy. The whole PR stunt was my father’s idea, and Devon sees him as a father figure of sorts. In fact, if he had his way, he’d make it official.” She ended with an embarrassed laugh. “You know what a charmer he can be, but I have to admit I’ve been hesitant to encourage him.”

  So Peyton wasn’t just an ex. Jenna’s eyes burned, but she refused to let the tears fall. She looked at Peyton’s full red lips, her perfectly highlighted hair, and the diamonds that nearly slipped into her exposed and rather enhanced cleavage. She was definitely the right type of woman for a billionaire bachelor.

  “You might say I’m like you,” Peyton said.

  Jenna’s upper lip curled. She was nothing like this woman.

  “There are more important things in life than romance. For you it’s your cause.” Peyton’s fingers flitted around, indicating the chaos around them. “For me it’s my job.” She took a swig of champagne, looking considerably less ladylike than when Jenna had first met her. “But work doesn’t keep you warm on a cold night, and it doesn’t look hot in a pair of tight Gucci jeans.” Peyton raised one hand, pinching what Jenna could only assume was an invisible bottom. She wondered how much, exactly, Peyton had had to drink.

  “It must be some consolation that it wasn’t all fake,” Peyton continued. “Devon really has changed. It’s cute how excited he’s become about all this charity work.”

  Jenna gritted her teeth. “Glad I could make him more appealing for you.”

  “You’ve done me and this company a great service, not to mention all those lower class people we just threw millions of dollars at.”

  Jenna’s stomach clenched, and she thought she was going to be sick again. After all her efforts, she’d ended up doing TrueLife a favor. It was true that a lot of people would benefit from their donations, but would the suffering ever end for the people whose claims would continue to be denied?

  Her trust in Devon was slipping away. She couldn’t really believe he’d found proof of TrueLife’s wrongdoing and intended to go public with it? He’d be risking everything.

  She wanted to believe Devon really cared about all those people he’d helped, but then again she’d thought he cared about her, too. It was hard to tell the ruse from reality. She hated to take Peyton’s word for it, but it didn’t matter anyway. This evening had sealed it. Devon Ward was no longer a part of her life.

  “It looks like you’re back where you started,” Peyton said. “Except that you succeeded in getting your mother the medical care she needed. And if I’m right about you, you’d rather be engaging in tacky protests than slinking around on a billionaire’s arm anyway, so you’ve lost nothing.”

  Peyton flipper her hair and walked away as Tali grabbed Jenna’s arm. “Come on! We need to get out of here!”

  Jenna let Tali pull her away. Before they reached the exit, a little dog bounded by, yapping frantically. Jenna stopped short, scooping Romeo up into her arms before following after Tali. Just because Devon was a creep didn’t mean the dog deserved to be left behind.

  Jenna pushed down the hurt, blinking her dry eyes and inviting numbness to take over. Peyton was right, wasn’t she? Assuming nobody got arrested, Jenna had lost nothing.

  Jenna tried to keep up with Tali, her ankles nearly twisting as she hurried along the driveway. Before they reached Tali’s car, two police cars pulled up, their lights flashing red and blue. Tali swore under her breath, jerking to a stop. They turned to run back, but the officers were faster. Before Jenna knew it, she was being read her Miranda rights, hands cuffed behind her back as Romeo barked at her feet.

  Chapter 22

  Devon

  Devon cracked the last egg, then transferred the yolk back and forth between the broken shell until the last of the white had slipped into the bowl. After setting the yolk aside, he turned on the hand mixer. He tried to focus on the contents, waiting for soft, white peaks to form, but before he knew it his mind had wandered to other things, like the way Jenna felt in his arms, the softness of her lips. For a moment he’d been stupid enough to believe she was finally his—but that was before the zombie apocalypse had descended on her command, destroying the event he’d planned just for her.

  Devon smashed his fist into an eggshell resting on the counter, and sharp slivers cut into his skin. It felt so good he took another shell fragment and tossed it against the ceiling, enjoying the crack and the bits of white confetti that nearly fell into the soft foam. In his distraction he butted the mixer against the side of the bowl and had to grab hold of it to keep it from crashing to the floor.

  “Mr. Devon!”

  Devon started, turning to see Carmen standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. He turned off the mixer, biting his lip as she surveyed the room with stern eyes.

  “Why aren’t you making a mess in your own kitchen?”

  He gave her a pathetic smile. “Because there’s no one who dares to yell at me there. It’s surprisingly therapeutic. Takes me back to my childhood.”

  Carmen walked around the room, pausing to examine a large white tray filled with multicolored macarons. Her brows raised in what looked like approval. “These must have taken hours.”

  Devon shrugged.

  Carmen eyed him shrewdly. “Remember your junior year of high school, when that silly girl turned you down for the prom? You made four dozen muffins.”

  “Yeah.” Devon lifted the mixer to test whether the whites were stiff enough. “Cranberry orange. You taught me to make those after Dad didn’t make it to my baseball championship.” He remembered how the task had make him feel better. This time was different. No matter how much he baked, the heavy, suffocating feeling of grief didn’t lift.

  Carmen clucked her tongue. “So it’s my fault you destroy the kitchen every time you get your heart broken?” She paused, her expression softening as she surveyed the room again. “I guess your attempts to get her back didn’t go so well?”

  “You could say that.” Devon pressed his palm against his forehead as if he could push away all memory of Jenna, but it was no good. He’d thought he’d found the one woman who’d actually felt something for him, who didn’t have an ulterior motive. Had she been manipulating him the whole time, pulling back and giving in just enough to make him believe she was struggling with her attraction to him? Was she trying to see how much she could get out of him before slamming him with one more big, humiliating protest? He knew she was passionate about her cause, but he had a hard time believing Jenna could be that conniving.

  “She must be something special.”

  “You only post bail for the special people in your life.” Devon scowled, turning away from Carmen to shuffle across the kitchen and drop into a chair at the large table. “And not every girl sends an army of the undead as a thank you for throwing her a party.”

  Carmen tapped her foot, her arms crossed across her matronly chest. “You sure you didn’t deserve it?”

  Devon closed his eyes, pinching between his brows. Since the party, he’d only allowed himself to focus on how Jenna had betrayed him. Not the fact that she’d been right the entire time about the suffering TrueLife had caused while he’d stuck his fingers in his ears and hummed like a stubborn child.

  She’d been right about everything. Devon had been too busy trying to numb the wounds his father had inf
licted, wanting so badly to believe he hadn’t spread his poison outside of their dysfunctional household. Wanting to believe his own name was worth something. He hadn’t been able to see the truth about Charles, either. He’d probably only supported Devon going to Europe because he’d wanted him out of the way, and when he’d needed him back, he’d only had to pull the strings and Devon had come. Devon had thought he’d actually cared about him, but he’d only been using him.

  As it turned out, Devon was really bad at knowing who to trust. But then, had he been worthy of Jenna’s trust? She’d laid everything out to begin with. The protest shouldn’t have been a surprise. She’d asked him for help. He’d ignored her pleas. He’d seen the truth too late, and she’d acted out of desperation. In addition to that, he’d used her at Charles’s command. A sick feeling crept into his stomach, and he dropped his head onto the table. Like father figure, like son.

  He heard Carmen come closer. “You need to talk to her.”

  Devon sat up, rubbing his aching eyes. “I think she made her feelings very clear. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.” He looked away. “And the feeling is mutual,” he mumbled.

  “Sure it is. That’s why the staff was sent home yesterday with several plates full of cookies and pastries. You’ve been holed up in here for days. It usually only takes one to get it out of your system.”

  “I’m worried about Mom,” he said. “I wanted to make sure she was eating.”

  “Your mother wouldn’t touch any of this with a ten-foot pole. It’s part of her never-eat-anything-that-gives-her-joy diet.” Carmen came closer, leaning down to look Devon in the face. “Of course she’s worried about what’s going to happen. But she’s going to be okay, you know. She’s a strong woman. Don’t tell her I said so.”

  “No, that peaceful look is the result of thousands of dollars worth of Botox. She’s barely come out of her room. And it’s my fault her dog’s being held hostage.”

  Fine, so Romeo was probably not being held hostage. Jenna had sent a text, letting him know she had him, but he hadn’t heard anything further. The more he thought about how he’d wronged Jenna, the more he was convinced she’d never want to see his face again. So he’d left it alone for now. But sooner or later, his mother was going to need her dog. He might be the only company she had after she became a social outcast.

  Carmen waved her hand at Devon, as if giving up on him. “Your mother will go to Park City, hole away in the cabin and at the spa, and she’ll come out looking twelve years younger. You’ll still be here trashing my kitchen.” She pointed at him. “Sooner or later you’re going to have to face up to whatever it is you’ve done, and when you do, I am not cleaning up this mess.”

  She walked away, leaving Devon staring at the piles of mixing bowls and measuring cups, and the ingredients spread across the countertop. If he hurried, he could finish that chocolate soufflé, and still have time to cook up some soupe à l'oignon for his mother to ignore at dinner time.

  Maybe Carmen was right. Maybe he should go shower and shave and put on some clothes that weren’t covered in flour and frosting and at least try to talk to Jenna. But he couldn’t look her in the face after how stupid he’d been. He couldn’t stand one more look of pity from her. So he’d stay here another day, nurse his wounds, and cook things nobody wanted. And tomorrow, after the press conference, he’d watch the rest of his life fall apart.

  Chapter 23

  Jenna

  Jenna grabbed another toothbrush and stuck it inside the personal care bag she was assembling. She couldn’t believe her boss had sent her home early. Maybe she did look like she needed rest, but that didn’t mean she was going to get it. When she’d tried lying down, all she could think about was the disastrous evening with Devon, and of course the fact that she was losing two hours of pay.

  So she’d stopped by the women’s shelter instead, to see if there was anything to do there. They’d ended up driving over several boxes of personal care items, so she could distract herself with putting kits together.

  The problem was, no amount of stuffing miniature toothpaste and shampoo into baggies could make Jenna forget the way Tali had practically had to drag her kicking and screaming from the police station when she’d found out where the bail money had come from. True, Devon was probably the only one she knew who could afford to post her bail, but she would have preferred to rot there.

  Romeo leaped over her legs, yapping at her until she stopped what she was doing and grabbed the stuffed toy she’d bought at the thrift store. She threw it across the room and watched him run for it. Romeo danced back to her, quivering as he laid the toy on the floor next to her. She ran her hand over his silky fur, wishing she could hold onto him a little bit longer. But sooner or later she was going to have to figure out a way to return him to Devon without having to talk to him.

  There was a bang on the front door. It opened, and Tali stood there glaring. “Why didn’t you answer any of my five million phone calls?”

  “Because I didn’t want to talk,” Jenna said, sealing a bag.

  Tali looked around, eyes wide, at the items spilled all over the floor. She kicked at a Twinkie box. When she picked it up, only two fell out onto the floor. She gave Jenna a judgmental look.

  “Gertie brought them. I’m not ashamed.”

  Tali sighed. She used her foot to clear a spot on the floor next to Jenna and plunked down next to her. “This is my fault. I encouraged you to date the guy.”

  “You encouraged me to use the guy.”

  “Same thing.” Tali tucked Jenna’s hair behind her ear. “You want to get out of here and throw blood-filled water balloons at TrueLife?”

  “Gross. And I’m not allowed to go near that place. Neither are you.”

  “Is there a court date? I haven’t heard anything.”

  Jenna shook her head. “Still waiting for that anvil to fall. It was just a little piece of advice a cop gave me before I left the police station. Made sense, so ...”

  Tali smiled her dangerous smile. “They didn’t say anything about his personal property. Stan’s kind of fond of me, you know. If we could trick him into bringing the limo—”

  “Tali, you are the best friend a girl could ever hope to have. I mean, you got arrested for me, even if I did tell you to call it off. But I think it’s best to lie low for a while. We’re lucky we’re not still in jail.”

  “Really?” Tali’s eyes widened. “After what he did to you? You should be taking it up a notch.”

  “We can’t win, Tali.” Jenna’s eyes filled with tears. “I mean, maybe my Mom’s fine as long as he doesn’t take everything back, which most people would absolutely do.” Jenna stared at the dog, who had retreated in Tali’s presence. Why hadn’t he taken it all back if he’d just been using her all along? Probably because it would be bad PR. Her rags to riches story made him look like a saint, even if there were plenty of people still suffering.

  “That doesn’t sound like you.” Tali’s voice was quieter than usual.

  Jenna shrugged. “It just feels pointless to try to fight it. Nobody cares what we think. We’re nothing.”

  “That’s not true.” Tali’s voice rose. “If you didn’t matter, he wouldn’t have bothered fake-dating you.”

  Jenna winced.

  “Sorry, but it’s true, right? You made them nervous. And don’t tell me you didn’t make a difference to all those charities TrueLife is supporting. You may not have won your battle, not yet anyway, but you fought a heck of a fight.”

  “You know he told me he’d found evidence against TrueLife, and he was going to go public with it all. That was right before—” Jenna buried her head in Tali’s shoulder. “Tali, he was an amazing kisser.” She hated herself for admitting it, but it was true, and it only made her angrier. Why couldn’t he have been a terrible kisser?

  “That son of a—” Tali threw the stuffed toy against the wall.

  Jenna didn’t know what she was hoping for. That Tali would tell her what she
wanted to hear? That maybe Devon had been telling her the truth, and she should give him a chance to come through on his promise? She’d already been so naïve. She teared up again, remembering the crushing guilt she’d felt for not trusting that he’d find his way to the truth. When the zombies had crashed the party, the idea that he’d would never forgive her had paralyzed her. And all along he’d been playing, laughing about her with Peyton. She’d fallen for his sweet talk and kind gestures and hopeful glances. She’d believed he cared about her, and about people whose situations were more dire than her own. She’d believed he wanted to be nothing like his father. She’d been stupid.

  “Tali, grab me one of those Twinkies and you can have the last one,” she coaxed.

  Tali sighed, reaching for them. “You know, Prince Charming wasn’t all he was cracked up to be, either,” she said. “That guy just wanted a trophy wife with tiny feet. He had issues, if you ask me.”

  Chapter 24

  Devon

  Devon walked into Charles’s office. Charles was pouring scotch into a tumbler. He held out the bottle, an invitation. Devon shook his head.

  Charles took a sip and leaned back in his seat. His eyes sparkled with laughter. “That was some show the other night. Looks like she got the best of you. What did you do, break her heart?”

  Devon swallowed, hoping Charles didn’t see the pain his comment inflicted. “Charles, I’ve come to give you a heads up. Allegations that have been made against this company are currently being investigated, and changes are going to be made.”

  Charles’s features hardened, just slightly, but mirth still danced in his eyes. He leaned forward, playfully sloshing the amber liquid around in his glass. “Oh, this is worse than I thought. Surely you knew better than to fall for the girl.”

  “This is no joking matter, Charles.”

  “I’m sure she’s been filling your head with stories, batting her eyes at you and maybe shedding a tear or two.”