Alice And The Billionaire's Wonderland (Once Upon A Billionaire Book 3)

by Catelyn Meadows

  Suzie chewed her lip and practically leaped in place.

  “That I can do,” Adelie said. Some of the pressure the sight of the contract gave her released, and she took it from him.

  Two days. She’d be touring Wonderland with its mouthwatering owner, and then she’d have to decide if she was ready to be in the public eye.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Adelie drummed her fingers on the dining table and stared. All those words. Usually, she loved reading, but that was fiction. Escape. This was more like a thesis paper on the benefits of filing a tax return. She had zero desire to read it, and once she signed, once she dotted every I and crossed every T, there would be no going back.

  Seated on the chair beside her, Suzie passed her a mug of warm cider and gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “It’s okay,” she said with the same tone she always used when something seemed too big to tackle. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Really?” It was exactly what Adelie wanted. An opening to back out.

  “Sure,” Suzie went on, relaxing in her chair and throwing an arm across the back. “It’s only a quarter of a million dollars you’re skipping out on. He’ll just find some other girl who’s more willing.”

  Adelie tugged on the sleeves of her sweater. She didn’t like the words some other girl.

  “You’ll see someone else’s face on the news or in the theme park every time you pass it. And every time you pass it, you’ll think: Hmm. That could have been me. Right, Fletch?”

  Suzie rotated as her boyfriend, Fletcher, entered the kitchen with a newspaper tucked under his arm. His orange hair curled like a sponge. He was tall and gangly in a completely adorable way that made Suzie squirm.

  “Huh?” Fletcher said, clueless.

  Adelie rolled her eyes. “I get it. We need the money.”

  “Yes, we do.” Suzie patted the contract like she would an obedient dog. Fletcher settled himself into the open seat beside her, and she slid him the remaining mug of cider.

  “Thanks, babe,” he said, crinkling open his newspaper and taking a sip. Adelie chuckled. Anyone who didn’t know any better would think he lived here with them, he was over so often.

  Suzie went on. “Not only that, but you know what I think? I think you need this.”

  “Yeah, like I need a bullet to the head.”

  Suzie leaned in, resting her elbows on the table, a feat which would have gotten her dismissed if it’d happened during dinner while they’d been growing up. “I’m serious. This is completely out of your comfort zone, but you’re doing it, Addy. That takes gusto.”

  “Gusto?”

  “Exactly. You know what Grandma always said. ‘It’s character-building to do one thing you don’t like every day.’ Look at all the character you’ll be building.”

  “You’re right,” Adelie said with pluck, cottoning on to her sister’s enthusiastic sarcasm. Oddly enough, her little pep talk was working. Her shoulders relaxed. She stopped fiddling with the end of her sleeves. “This is going to be good for me.”

  “What is?” Fletcher pried himself from his paper long enough to ask.

  Suzie waved him off, keeping her attention on Adelie and promising to explain later.

  How could this be good for her, though? Part of her still felt the way she had when she’d gone with some friends to a spook alley in high school. The pressure had been high. Everyone had laughed, prodding her, poking fun, taunting her to go. She’d been downright terrified, but she’d given in to the peer pressure. She’d gone through every frightening, too-dark inch of that freak show. When she’d arrived on the other side, she could have kissed every speck of light around.

  Her friends had been wrong. Adelie hadn’t gotten tougher. In fact, she’d sworn off creepy anything and had stuck to it.

  Something told her this situation was going to be similar. Granted, she couldn’t pass this chance up and risk finding someone else’s face in Wonderland as a reminder of her lack of courage.

  She had to do this. But that didn’t mean anything about her was going to change.

  ***

  Adelie stood at Wonderland’s gates Sunday morning. The wrought iron curled in a quirky, mysterious way, implying darkness and mystery and yet playfulness within. Circles in the center of either side of the gate swirled with fancy Ws that connected to leaves and adjoining top hats.

  A man in a plain uniform held a broom in one hand and a long-handled dustpan in the other. He shuffled his way over the pave stones that made up the front of the park, sweeping litter and other garbage that had drifted into Wonderland.

  Rides that had taxied and spun within were now sleeping. The park wasn’t open on Sundays, which was perfect for her. She wouldn’t have to deal with Mr. Hatter pressuring her to ride anything. Just a tour, that was all this was.

  She would see the park. Get a better grasp of his intentions for its remodel. And then she would make her decision.

  Adelie clutched her messenger bag—and the contract within it—and began to pace. He’d just said Sunday. No specific time. She probably should have clarified before leaving, but she had felt too self-conscious to contact him. She’d stewed over it the entire time during church, and now that she was here, she wondered if she should have called him sooner than a quick message of, Hey, I'm heading over in a few minutes.

  How did she even know he got it? He hadn’t responded.

  Adelie could see several others working their way through the park’s innards, stopping to wipe windows on the buildings, or to adjust the straps on tarps covering kiosks or change out garbage bags. She was starting to think she shouldn’t have come at all when a smaller, regular-sized gate swung open twenty feet down the brick wall to her right.

  Mr. Hatter stepped through, wearing jeans and a button-up shirt beneath a black leather jacket. His hair was tousled, his lips quirked, and with his left hand skimming his jeans pocket, he looked like the one who should be posing for pictures.

  “Hey, there,” he said. “I wasn’t sure you were going to come.”

  She stepped toward him, her boots crunching on the sidewalk. “Hi, Mr. Hatter. Did you get my text?”

  “Just a few minutes ago,” he said. “Sorry about that. And please, call me Maddox.”

  She managed an agreeable nod.

  “So, Adelie, are you ready?” he asked.

  “R-ready?” She hated that she stammered whenever she was nervous or caught off-guard. It had always been an oddity of hers. Something she’d battled from the time she was young, even when she and Suzie had still lived with their parents.

  “Yeah, the tour. Want to start at the beginning? Make our way through the park? I’ll give you the inside scoop.”

  “That sounds good,” she said. “Why don’t you show me where the changes are going to be? You know, where you’re going to put me. My pictures. I mean, where you’re putting me. The pictures of me.” Ugh. Could she get any more awkward?

  Mr. Hatter’s smile stretched only by a fraction, but enough to be noticeable.

  “The beginning sounds great,” she amended.

  “The Rabbit Hole it is.” Hands in his pockets, he invited her in and locked the door behind her.

  It was hard to believe the park had been as crowded as it was the day of the scavenger hunt. Silence enveloped everything eerily now, in that way things that should have life and motion, but didn’t. Adelie longed to break that silence. She asked the first question that came to her mind.

  “Your name. Is it really your name? Hatter is legitimate?”

  “It is,” he said. “My mom named me Maddox because Alice's Adventures in Wonderland was her favorite book. In fact, this—” He gestured. “Is all for her.”

  Adelie stopped for a moment to admire the flowerbeds, trees, and towering rides. The smells of popcorn and caramel were missing today. She was surprised she’d noticed, considering how distracted she’d been the last time she was here. She hadn’t taken much time to really see everything Friday, either.


  “Really? That’s such an amazing thing to do for your mom. Does she love to come here?”

  Maddox lowered his head. “She passed away, I’m afraid. It’s one reason I did it, as a tribute to her memory.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it. That’s so hard. Both of my parents are gone too,” Adelie said, falling into step with him once more. Why had she brought that up? She didn’t want to go into her family’s difficult past—not now, not ever. And especially not with him. In fact, part of her wanted to forget she’d had parents at all.

  Maddox led the way up the stairs toward the entry point for The Rabbit Hole drop. No lines. Just directly to the front. She remembered some of her frustration with the lines, regretting how surly and distracted she’d been. Part of her wished for a do-over. How would it be to jump on any ride you want whenever you wanted?

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said.

  “Yeah, I was raised by my grandparents. That’s one reason I’m doing this. I want to save their house.”

  He whistled. “Must be some house.”

  “It is,” she said, unable to help her smile. “It’s got this perfect craftsman look to it, and I have so many memories there.”

  “I’d like to see it sometime,” he said.

  Adelie paused. “You would?”

  “Sure. If you care about it that much, then it must be amazing. All right, here we go.” He gestured to the sign at the front of the ride near the railing meant to separate those who were waiting from those taking their turns.

  It was a lighthearted version of Alice on her hands and knees, staring into a hole in the side of a bank. “This is the sign we’ll be redoing. I want to hail back to as many of the original images from the book as possible. We’d like to capture you looking stunned and amazed as you’re falling slowly down a well.”

  The idea made her muscles twitch.

  “I see,” she said. “How exactly are you going to capture me falling?”

  Maddox lifted his arms and mimed the movement, astonished facial expression and all. The combined actions were so endearing, she laughed.

  “You’re onto something. Why not just don a wig and do the pictures yourself?” she said.

  “And miss the chance of seeing you?” He winked, kinking her insides. “Come on. Pool of Tears is next.”

  They meandered through, stopping by the water ride she and Suzie had experienced. She was grateful the towering, quick-drop ride was closed. She’d ridden it Friday to obtain the next clue, and once was enough. They stopped next at the Caucus Race ride, made up of animals that spun and moved at slow speeds.

  “To dry off,” Maddox added as he pointed them out.

  Adelie chuckled to herself, remembering the ride’s slow-spin progression and the young kids and their parents who’d smiled in delight. It was the perfect sort of ride for little kids.

  “It’s nice of you to gear some rides to kids,” she said.

  “People from every walk of life love the book. And if not the book, then Disney’s rendition of the story. I wanted to make sure the park could be a family place.”

  “Is that why you’re not open on Sunday?”

  “An old-fashioned notion, I guess,” he said, stopping before the Odds N' Ends store across from the Ever After Sweet Shoppe. “Mind if I make a confession?”

  She swallowed. “What do you mean?”

  “I saw you in the shop Friday,” he said, gesturing toward Odds N' Ends with its sweeping striped awning. “You stole my breath, right from the start.”

  Talk about stealing breath. Her lips parted. She was captivated by his confession, by the sincerity in his eyes. What did that mean? Who talked like this anyway, especially to someone he just met?

  “I—I don’t know what to say.”

  The corner of his mouth tipped. “I knew from that moment I needed you as my Alice.”

  She shook the stardust from her eyes. Right. Alice. He was only talking about his park.

  Adelie drew in a long breath and stepped away from him, waiting for her head to clear. Don't get in over your head, she told herself, staring at the brick. She needed a focal point, to get herself back on track away from the cloud he’d momentarily led her on.

  Maddox pointed to the store’s windows.

  “See? Even here, you’ll be on posters and displays in the store windows. Even the bags in the stores will have some version of you on them.”

  Butterflies rolled in her stomach but were soon forgotten as thunder crackled through the sky overhead. March was the season for spring showers. Seconds later, a single drop kissed Adelie’s cheek. She blinked upward, struck by the mass of gray clouds that closed in overhead. They hadn’t been there when she’d first arrived.

  “Uh-oh,” Maddox said. “Looks like we might have to cut things short unless you want to get caught in a deluge.”

  “Spring rain,” Adelie said with a chuckle. More drops trickled down, wetting her hair and shoulders. Without further warning, the rain increased its tempo, drumming down against the rooftops and tinkling against what sounded like tin. She lifted her messenger bag above her head as puddles at their feet quickly formed.

  “Here,” Maddox called in the din. He put a hand on the small of her back, and the two ran toward the carousel about twenty feet away.

  Adelie followed Maddox, who wove his way through the iron maze for patrons to line up within. He opened the final gate, allowing her through first to hurry up the step and onto the dormant carousel, taking shelter beneath its circus-tent-like roof.

  The air was still brisk, and the rain made a symphony of noise on the roof, but at least she wasn’t getting any more soaked than she already was. Adelie lowered her bag, wiped wet hair and rain from her eyes, and caught her racing breath.

  Rain dripped from Maddox’s hair, which had fallen into his eyes. He raked his hands through, whipping it clear of his forehead. In his leather jacket, with his watch peeking through the end of his sleeve, the action made him appear like a supermodel. Tantalizing, but off-limits.

  “Here we go,” he said, resting a hand on the back of a seahorse. “We’ll just wait it out.”

  “This is actually really great,” Adelie said, reining in her racing heart and glancing at the carousel.

  “It is?”

  She gestured to the surrounding animals; the mice, cats, flamingoes, and then up at the inner workings of the poles leading to their gears in the roof. This ride hadn’t been part of Friday’s challenge, which was a shame. She would have loved a ride.

  “How often does anyone get a carousel all to themselves?”

  “You’ve got your pick,” Maddox said, gesturing to the animals.

  The prospect was enchanting. Despite the cold, warmth radiated through her at his invitation.

  “No horses?” she asked. “All carousels have horses.”

  “Not this one.” He gripped the pole holding a fat hedgehog to the upper and lower gears.

  “Makes sense,” she said, wandering on the wide, circular platform and inspecting each ornate creature. “Wonderland doesn’t conform to any norms.”

  “Exactly,” Maddox said, walking with her as she wove between a pair of elaborate fish. “Which one will it be?”

  “This one,” Adelie said, stopped beside a brilliantly colored peacock. Peacocks were the kind of bird that demanded respect and attention, yet they kept to themselves. She liked that.

  “Well?” He inclined his head. “Are you going to get on?”

  A blush claimed her cheeks. She lowered her head, hoping to hide it. “It’s not moving.”

  The corner of his lip quirked. “Isn’t it?”

  Adelie fought a smile and lifted a foot, climbing onto the peacock. She gripped the pole with one hand to steady herself until she inserted her feet into the stirrups on either side. Seated as she was, it put her on eye-level with Maddox.

  Rain hammered against the carousel roof and created a curtain around them. For only a moment, Adelie didn’t notice the playful landscape
s painted on the carousel’s center pivot. Her feet nestled in the stirrups, her hand gripped the peacock’s reins, and her heart tapped out a rapid rhythm in her chest.

  Maddox hadn’t found his own creature as she thought he would. He remained close and directed his gaze at her. Lifting a hand, he gently wiped a raindrop from her cheek. His touch sizzled straight into her skin.

  He sees me as his Alice, she reminded herself. Nothing more.

  “Would you believe I’ve never been on a carousel before?” she asked.

  His hand rested on the peacock’s fiberglass beak. “How is that even possible?”

  She tried to play it off as something totally normal. “I’ve never really been anywhere like this. To a theme park, I mean.”

  “Where are you from?” he asked.

  “Here,” she said. “Westville. I’ve lived here my whole life. I just—” How could she tell him she didn’t get out much, and that it was by choice? She might as well proclaim she opted to live the most boring life possible because it meant less risk.

  “If I knew how it worked, I’d start it for you,” he said, still standing close to her.

  Adelie swallowed. She’d never had attention like this before, not from boys at school or men in her college classes—the ones that were in person or online, like she was taking right now. She’d never even been kissed, either. The prospect had been non-existent. But here, in the rain, on a carousel that for all the world was singing its own melody and spinning right off with her imagination, a kiss suddenly became an option.

  He was so handsome. And he was looking at her, resting his hand close to hers, her knee brushing his side.

  The rain slowed. Her mind cleared in the subsequent quiet. What was she doing thinking of kissing him?

  “Looks like things are clearing up out there,” he said.

  “Yeah. I should probably get going.”

  But she didn’t move, and for a long moment, neither did he. He lingered there, capturing her with his pale green eyes.

  Finally, he cleared his throat and stepped back, glancing around as if only just remembering where he was. “Right,” he said, offering her a hand as she slid down.