“Explain,” he practically hissed.
“I should have asked, but I wanted to protect you. I did a little digging. Jane has almost two hundred thousand dollars in student debt. She was playing you. I offered her the check as a test, to prove to you what she really wanted from you. I told her she could keep the check if she left you alone. She agreed.”
Jane wouldn’t. She wasn’t this kind of woman. None of Michelle’s words rang true, but even the possibility of it coupled with the bank notification shook Hamilton’s faith.
Shrugging a shoulder, Michelle gave him a pitying expression. “I really am sorry, Hamilton. She was only interested in what you could do for her.”
Hamilton suddenly felt like he was burning up under his tux, which was still slightly damp in places from his swim in the ocean with Jane. Now, even that memory felt slightly discolored. As though his doubts that were starting to unfold had already changed the past events, making them less pure. He hated that.
Turning away from Michelle, he strode to the bathroom, where he removed his jacket and splashed cold water on his face.
Closing his eyes, Hamilton pictured Jane as she had looked in her dress earlier. He remembered the way her eyes lit when she smiled and the sound of her laugh. He felt her in his arms as they danced, and her lips under his, warm and soft and willing. She filled his world with color.
Jane had protested when Hamilton had mentioned paying for her student loans. But she accepted the money from Michelle.
Michelle offered her a check.
His mind kept tripping over this fact.
To test Jane.
To protect Hamilton.
That’s what Michelle had said.
Do I not believe her?
He had never had a reason not to believe Michelle. And yet … he didn’t. In that moment, it felt like the pieces of a bigger puzzle slid and locked right into place, revealing a picture he’d been staring at for a long time without seeing it.
Michelle appeared in the bathroom doorway. Hamilton met her eyes in the mirror. She suddenly looked like a stranger.
“Don’t worry,” Michelle said. “Monday morning, I’ll call the bank first thing and explain that there was a mix-up. I’ll make sure you don’t lose the money.”
“I’m not worried about … the money.” Hamilton moved past her, crossing the room to stare out at the twinkling lights of a few ships at sea.
Could it all have been an act? Had Jane been just like other women he’d dated, only better at hiding it?
What does your gut say?
His gut said Jane was exactly who he thought she was.
Michelle, on the other hand …
“Where is Jane now? I need to see her.”
Michelle crossed her arms, barely hiding an irritated expression. “Gone. I followed her to the ferry. She took all her things and left.”
That was the truth. Hamilton nodded. “Could you excuse me? I’m too tired to talk more about this. We can discuss it in the morning.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? I’m happy to stay.”
Her voice was soothing, placating. How long had Michelle been this way? How long had Hamilton missed the cues? Jane had sensed it that first day, telling him that his clothes could have been managed more simply. Michelle liked for him to be dependent on her. She liked staying close.
She had come here, after he’d said not to.
She had spoken to Mrs. Morgan about him.
She had offered Jane a check without authorization.
Was she even telling the truth about what happened tonight?
“No. I’ll be fine,” Hamilton said. “I’ll speak to you in the morning.”
Michelle pursed her lips but nodded, leaving the suite. As soon as the door closed with a soft snick, Hamilton picked up the phone and called Mrs. Morgan again. He would deal with Michelle later. After breaking his trust, she couldn’t stay on in her position. Not after this betrayal. He’d give her a generous enough severance package. But she wouldn’t work for him again.
“Mr. Brevard,” Mrs. Morgan said. “Is there something else you need?”
“Where’s Jane?” Now that he knew she’d gone, he didn’t need to worry about protecting her.
“I had to fire her. You understand. I thought you would already know. Your assistant met her down by the ferry, according to my security team.”
By the ferry, not at her bungalow. This tiny detail, this little lie, really did confirm the unsettled feeling he had about Michelle.
And if she lied to him, what had she said to Jane?
“I have to find her. Could you p-please give me her number or … address?”
There was a brief pause. “I’m not allowed by law to give out personal information of my employees.”
He sighed. This was a fact. One that he knew. It was going to take more work and more time than he wanted to spend. He needed to find Jane now.
“How long ago did the ferry l-leave?”
“They should be just docking in the next few minutes.” Mrs. Morgan cleared her throat. “I’d be happy to let you take the helicopter. I can have the pilot ready almost immediately.”
“Yes. I’ll … be there.”
“Good. Mr. Brevard? You know that I had to fire Ms. Wright. I must hold employees to the contract. But the goal of La Vida truly is your happiness. I do hope that you’ve found it. Don’t let her get away. The pilot will be waiting.”
As Hamilton hung up the phone, he hardly had time to be shocked. Mrs. Morgan, the cold, almost terrifying woman, actually had a sense of romance. And a heart.
More importantly, she had a helicopter waiting for him.
12
Jane
As the ferry neared the dock, Jane went inside the small cabin and slumped next to Marisa on a bench. She had known that it was over when they boarded the boat, felt it more acutely when they had pulled away from the island, but nearing the mainland, reality crashed over her like a rogue wave.
“I think I’ve got a line on a new job for us, chica.” Marisa nudged Jane’s shoulder just as the engine made a grinding noise and the boat began to slow.
“Already?”
“While you were moping on the deck, I was googling.”
Jane shook her head when Marisa tried to show her a listing on the phone. “Can we wait until tomorrow? I’m not ready to think about this.”
They both stood as the ferry jolted into the dock and then stilled. Marisa gave Jane a quick hug that had her groaning.
“Don’t break my ribs, please.”
“No promises.” She released Jane and then gave her a pointed look. “You’re going to be okay.”
“I know.”
“You don’t look like you know. Look, it was a really lame thing for Hamilton not to see you off. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be with you. I mean, he gave you that check!”
Jane lifted one shoulder. “I just feel … used. Or, like he paid me off. I shouldn’t have let you deposit the money. I feel sick about all of it.”
“Stop. That man is head over heels for you.”
“So, why didn’t he come say goodbye? Why send his sexy assistant?” Jane tried but couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice.
“Jealousy isn’t a good look for you. Let’s go, chica. Hamilton will find you. I know it.”
Rolling her wheeled bag behind her, Jane followed Marisa out of the cabin and toward the gangplank. When the captain cut the engine, a loud mechanical whir startled her. Marisa looked back at Jane, then up at the sky. Eyes wide, she grabbed Jane’s arm and pointed with her other hand.
A helicopter was closing in on them from the direction of La Vida, flying fairly low over the water and headed for the landing pad in the large gated parking lot just outside the ferry.
Jane wished that she could have kept her heart steady. That she wouldn’t have hoped it was Hamilton. She didn’t know if she could take more disappointment tonight.
Her hair whipped around her face a
s she followed Marisa down to the dock. The helicopter touched down, and the blades began to slow.
Marisa grinned back at Jane. “I told you not to worry.”
Shaking her head, Jane said, “I’m sure it’s not him. It’s probably—”
“Jane!”
Hamilton jumped down from the helicopter and began sprinting across the parking lot toward the dock. He was still wearing his tux, only without the jacket and tie.
Marisa tugged at the handle of Jane’s bag and then tilted her head. “I told you not to worry. Now, go get your man!”
With a huge smile on her face and her eyes feeling damp, Jane began running to meet him. Hamilton reached the gate first, pushing through it until they were only a car’s length apart. That’s when Jane stumbled.
But before she could go down, strong arms wrapped around her, and a familiar scent. Hamilton pulled her up, crushing her to his chest. Jane clutched at him, breathing heavy and trying to pull back the stupid tears that were likely ruining the makeup Marisa had so carefully applied before the masquerade ball. That felt like a memory from a distant time.
“I’m so glad I c-caught you,” Hamilton said.
“When you sent your assistant, I was so worried. When she gave me the check, she made it sound like—”
Hamilton pulled back suddenly until they were almost nose to nose, his big palms resting on her cheeks. He shook his head. “I didn’t send her.”
Jane’s eyes went wide. “The check. I knew I shouldn’t have deposited that check! Did you even know?”
“No. But I was planning to … take care of your student loans whether you w-wanted me to or not.”
“Hamilton—”
“D-do you want to stand here and argue about … money?”
Slowly, Jane shook her head. “That’s the last thing I want to do.”
A smile eased its way onto Hamilton’s face, starting small and then taking over completely. “What d-do you want to do?”
“This.”
Jane pressed her lips to his, tightening her hold on his back. His mouth was warm and soft, tasting of cinnamon. One of his hands slid to the back of her neck, holding her in place as though Hamilton thought she might escape.
No chance of that. None at all.
Breaking the kiss, Hamilton smiled down at her in the moonlight. “I think we’ve f-found our happy ending.”
“Not quite,” Jane said, sliding her hands up his back. “I’d say this is more of a happy beginning.”
Epilogue
Hamilton
Why are waiting room chairs so uncomfortable?
Making them more comfortable wasn’t going to make people want to stay longer at the hospital or anything. No one wanted to be there. Even when they weren’t sick but just waiting for the genetic counselor, like Hamilton was. He shifted again in the chair, trying to find any spot that might have more padding.
Do they want me to be on edge? Maybe it’s psychological. The chairs make us so uncomfortable that by the time we get in there to hear the results, we’re just happy to not be out here.
“Sorry I’m late.”
Jane sat down in the chair next to his, leaning over to kiss his cheek. He turned at the last minute, capturing her lips and making her giggle.
“Hamilton,” she hissed, pulling back.
He grinned and kissed her forehead. “Sorry. Can’t help … myself.”
It really was true. He would never get enough of his wife. Not after a year of marriage. Not after ten. Assuming he had ten more years.
The pit of fear he’d been fighting for a long time yawned open right in the center of his chest cavity. As though sensing the shift, Jane squeezed his hand.
Still whispering, she said, “You know that it’s going to be fine. Whatever they tell us. You’re still you. Perfectly imperfect. And mine.”
Jane still had that way about her, the ability to soothe and calm him, or to light him up. Whatever he needed at any given time. She knew, like she had a direct view right into his brain. Or maybe it was his heart. Maybe both.
“Where … were you?” he asked.
She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. How are you doing?”
“You know. Fine. N-not fine.” Bending closer so his lips grazed her ear, something he’d learned quickly that she loved, Hamilton said in a low voice, “I know something that might help me … feel better.”
“Anything.”
“Kiss me again.”
The shove surprised him, though it really shouldn’t have. It was so very Jane. He laughed, feeling his anxiety slip away, moment by moment.
“Mr. Brevard? Hamilton Brevard?”
He jolted to his feet, the worry crashing right back into him. Jane stood, pressing so close that she was practically attached to his body. “That’s us,” she said.
Hamilton let her tug him along, trying to keep the panic from rising in his throat. It would be fine. He would be fine. They would be fine.
The walk to the genetic counselor’s office didn’t feel like it existed. When Hamilton sank into a chair that was no more comfortable, it was a surprise. He couldn’t remember the hallways or doorways or any conversation between the nurse who led them back. Had he said a word?
Jane squeezed his hand, grounding him again. She made sure to catch his eye and mouthed, It’s going to be fine.
Hamilton held on to her hand like the lifeline it was while the doctor gave them a polite greeting and then launched right into the results of his genetic testing.
After his father’s early death and his mother’s early-onset Alzheimer’s, he couldn’t not know. Even if the results weren’t conclusive. Even if, as Jane pointed out, results or no results, anyone could die of any old thing, any old time.
His wife might bring him joy and laughter, but she wasn’t averse to speaking the truth.
“Hamilton?”
His joy-bringing, color-sharing, truth-speaking wife elbowed him. The genetic counselor had his hands clasped on the desk.
“What did I … miss?”
“Everything looks good,” the counselor said. “No markers or anything else that you need to worry about. You’re as clear as any of us can be.”
No markers.
Good.
Clear.
The words hit him first like a gentle rain, then like a pounding storm. It was perhaps the best feeling in the world. Jane leaned close, resting her head on his shoulder. A happy sigh escaped her lips.
Okay. The second-best feeling in the world.
Hamilton might have said words. He may have shaken the counselor’s hand. He probably kissed Jane. But until they made it outside and the sun hit his face, the gravity of the moment didn’t really hit him.
Just outside the building, he pulled away from Jane and began pacing in front of the building. “I’m okay. It’s okay. I don’t have to f-feel this hanging … over me.”
He stopped in front of Jane, who was watching him with a mix of amusement and happiness on her face. Gently, he cupped her cheeks.
“I know I didn’t want to discuss it b-before now, but we could talk about having … children, Jane.”
Her eyes seemed to brighten as he watched, and she bit her lip, holding back a smile. “Is that something you want?”
“Want? Yes. I have no idea what kind of … father I’d be. But now, yes.”
Jane laughed. “Well, that’s a relief. Otherwise, this conversation might have been a little awkward.”
Hamilton froze. “What conversation?”
“The one where I tell you that I was also at a doctor’s office earlier. Confirming that I already am, in fact, pregnant.”
His gaze dropped from her eyes, which now leaked tears, past her wide smile, all the way down to her stomach, which looked no different than it had before.
Of course, it didn’t. He knew enough to know that she wouldn’t be showing yet.
“Good news or bad news? I can’t quite tell from your expression,” Jane said.
&nbs
p; “The best news,” Hamilton managed to say, despite the way his throat seemed to tighten. “The best news I’ve … ever heard. Other than when you told me yes.”
NEXT UP: Find out if Colt (the man Hamilton met by the pool) can find love in the middle of reality television in The Billionaire Love Match! Or snag all five Billionaire books in the Billionaire Surprise complete set!
Keep reading if you’d like to try the first few chapters of Colt’s story…
Chapter 1
Casey ducked into the bathroom, leaning against the door. She could hear the pounding of the club’s music outside but was listening for something else—the sound of her ex shouting her name.
Nothing. She had lost him.
She sighed heavily and examined herself in the mirror, wondering how this happened. Lucas somehow found out she was at this event, despite the fact that Casey had been actively trying to avoid him for the last two months. They hadn’t dated for long before she saw his possessive side. Which went into overdrive when she called it quits. He moved quickly from annoying to aggravating and now to obsessive.
How did he even get in? This was an invite-only event for the finalists in the matchmaking reality show she had applied to be on. The month-long shooting schedule keeping her in seclusion was one of the big draws of the show. Not that she expected to make it.
Her makeup still looked great, though the winged eyeliner was a bit much. Her roommate, Amanda, was a makeup artist and had convinced Casey that she needed to step it up a bit.
“I probably won’t even get picked for the show,” Casey had said. “This is overkill. I don’t want to look desperate.”
Amanda had given her a look. “You could never look desperate,” she’d said. “Stop undervaluing my skills and your good looks. Speaking of, there’s no way you aren’t getting picked. You’ve got a gorgeous face and a rocking body. And before you say it, your butt is NOT too big.”
“It’s not supposed to be about looks,” Casey protested. “This show is a matchmaking show. They had us fill out about ten billion questionnaires, lie detectors, and do six different interviews. No one mentioned needing a rocking body. Or a big booty.”
Maid for the Billionaire Page 8