WILD OPEN HEARTS: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy

by Nolan, Kathryn

  What the hell had just happened?

  One second, Beck was tenderly stroking through my hair in a way that left me breathless.

  The next? We were awkwardly at an impasse again in front of my house—Beck’s walls all the way back up. And me, unsure of what I’d done, or not done, or how to fix it. The shift was alive and well tonight, as I walked through my driveway beneath a dark canopy of stars, salt on the breeze. Because I’d been proud, excited, to show off Bluewater and the amazing things that we’d done. But wouldn’t I feel the same way that Beck did if I was dating a man so much wealthier than I was—like so much more?

  Wouldn’t a neighborhood of super rich people, no matter how funky or loving or beautiful, make me feel guarded?

  “Pssst. Moon.” I turned, jumping, to find Emily slipping out from the small path that encircled my courtyard.

  “Is having that much sex with Derek every day making you quieter?” I teased, laughing breathlessly. “You could have killed me. I could have died and come back reincarnated as like a cheeseburger.”

  “The horror,” Emily mused. “Can I come in?”

  “Please,” I said, wrapping her into a side-hug. I flicked on the colorful lights and lamps that adorned my living room. Put the kettle on and lit a tray of candles. I made Emily a cup of chamomile tea, grateful for the distraction. Beck’s words had left me unsettled. It didn’t feel like an argument, necessarily. It just felt… complicated.

  “What’s up, beautiful?” I asked, handing her a small, teal coffee mug. “Where are Cameron and Daisy? And Derek?”

  Her lips quirked. “Daisy is on a spontaneous trip to Bali with, I believe, a European prince.”

  I snorted into my own mug.

  “Cameron’s with Jude. Derek has a late meeting. I thought I’d come over because, you know, the picture that’s floating around. With Beck.”

  “Wait, what?” I reached for my phone, stowed safely in my bag. When I pulled it out, my screen was filled with notifications and missed calls from Jasmine. “Oh my god, my phone’s been on silent this whole time.”

  I tapped open the screen, frantically searching. Emily placed a steadying hand on my arm.

  “Moon,” she said. “Where were you that you had your phone on silent for the first time in a decade?”

  I looked at my friend. “I was having a beer with Beck at Lummus Park after we rescued a stray dog together.”

  Understanding flooded her features. A tiny smile. “The picture makes more sense now. And I’ll preface this by saying it’s only floating around gossip blogs and lifestyle websites. I don’t think it’s a setback. I’m sure Jasmine does though.”

  A text from Jasmine. Three, actually. The last one: This photo is going to be an issue with our Fischer Home Goods meeting tomorrow.

  “Oh, shit,” I muttered.

  I finally found it—I’d been tagged on Instagram. It looked like a classic paparazzi shot, the picture focused on my face.

  “Oh my god, I see what you mean,” I said, fingers flying to my mouth.

  Emily laid her head against my shoulder. “I actually think it’s very cute,” she admitted.

  In it, I looked like I’m about to make passionate love to Beck’s face. It must have been snapped just before we almost kissed—we’d been so wrapped up in the moment, it would have taken a lot for us to be distracted.

  Heat flared across my body as I was wrenched back to that moment in time. Because I’d been on the other end of Beck’s expression—had born witness to the carnal hunger in his eyes. Although his fingers in my hair had been utterly tender.

  It was the kindness in the way he’d stroked my hair that felt especially persistent in the face of the awkward interaction we’d had. There was a glow in my heart that was starting to feel like Beck. And if my parents had taught me anything, it was to trust that glow, that nudge from the universe insisting that you’d found something beautiful.

  This extravagance will never come for me—not in this lifetime, not in any others.

  I had never used to care about things like mansions and infinity pools and personal security. But becoming a billionaire had literally expanded all of the areas in my life. It was only natural to grow into them. And I’d resented his insinuation I should be ashamed—men had been allowed to flaunt their excessive wealth since the dawn of time. I felt proud to take up that space, to exert the power of my hard work and success.

  I still felt off though.

  “Did you see the caption?” Emily asked. “I can always talk to Derek, see if he can get it removed.”

  I shook my head, preoccupied. It read: Disgraced CEO Luna da Rosa seen here canoodling with the Executive Director of Lucky Dog, the nonprofit she has been publicly supporting since news broke of the animal cruelty scandal. Beck Mason’s parents are Georgie and Rip Mason, notorious for their violent club fights, extortion, and racketeering activities out of the Miami Devils MC.

  “This is a… complication,” I said lamely, echoing my fears from the beginning. Emily’s head was near my own, fingers landing on the complication in question.

  “I have to say, as your best friend, this looks like a very fun complication, Moon,” she said. I touched my lips, remembered the pressure of Beck’s thumb there. The joy of reaching forward, wrapping my arms around Sunshine. Knowing she was going to get that second chance, would find love and happiness.

  “I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching since the Ferris Mark news,” I admitted to her. “I’m not even sure I actually see this as a complication anymore, even though I know it is from a business standpoint.”

  The devil on my shoulder stirred and I shushed it.

  “What’s going to happen with the Fischer meeting?” she asked, tucking her legs underneath her.

  “They’re skittish because of the cost of pulling all of those damaged products. And the cost of Wild Heart’s damaged reputation. There’s another cosmetics line that’s cruelty-free and scandal-free and it’s looking like they’re going to drop us in favor of them.”

  “Assholes,” she said. “Although you know its only business. It’s awful being on the end of it, but all of us know what that’s like. I hate Fischer for doing this to you, Moon, but I fully believe it’s not personal for them. And that you’ll find an even better storefront partner. I mean, you’re Luna da Rosa. You always find a way.”

  “It feels personal though,” I said quietly. “Maybe that’s the ultimate downfall of making myself the face of Wild Heart. All of that personal branding. I made a massive professional mistake that I’m working to fix but the public is taking it out on me personally.”

  Emily squeezed my hand. “You know I went through something similar. At the end of the day, you have to go with what feels right, which is terrifying. Because you can lose everything.”

  “No kidding,” I said.

  She tapped the photo. “This seems pretty right, don’t you think?”

  I thought about that little girl in the photo now taped to my computer. What would she do?

  “It really does,” I said.

  And I owe Beck an apology, I realized.

  A brightly-colored parrot flew through the room, taking advantage of the back patio doors I’d left wide open. He flapped his rainbow wings once before settling on the top of the couch.

  I cooed, running my finger down his feathers. “A visit from Frank? If this isn’t a sign from the universe, I don’t know what is.” Frank was a free-range parrot who’d taken up residence in Bluewater a few years ago. He was sweet as sugar—but his previous owner had taught him to curse like a sailor.

  “Evening, shitheads,” Frank squawked.

  “Frank is very wise,” Emily said. “And I think he’d agree that you like Beck and should ask him on a date and smoosh his face and have all of his babies.”

  I dropped my head back on her shoulder. “Oh god, is it that obvious?”

  “That you like-like Beck?” She laughed. “Yes. Yes, it is. And from the look of this picture, I’d
say he likes you too.”

  I didn’t disagree—Beck and I had a connection. An intimacy, an honesty—that was why I’d pushed him to spill tonight. We’d already sparred enough to breach those walls, to hand each other parcels of vulnerability like rare jewels. I owed him that much in return after how I’d made him feel tonight, intentional or not.

  “Fuckfaces,” Frank added.

  “So wise,” Emily grinned.

  * * *

  Two hours later, after conquering the majority of my inbox and doing a wind-down meditation by the pool, I pulled up the picture again. The one of me and Beck. I didn’t stare at the two of us, our body language, the sweet way his fingers were curled in my hair.

  I read the comments.

  Every single one.

  People seemed to hate the Mason family as much as they hated—or pretended to hate—me. Beck’s family had certainly been behind their fair share of fraud and money laundering, so of course the implications about the two of us were strange and far-fetched: Beck was seducing me for my money, which he was funneling to his parents. I was using Beck to get to his parents who I was paying to “take out” my enemies. The money I raised for Beck was going to his nonprofit, which was nothing more than a front. Beck was a criminal, therefore I was a criminal. My bohemian, love-and-light persona was a sham because would someone like me willingly associate with a family filled with violence?

  My fingers pressed to my brow. That wasn’t necessarily a totally off-the-wall question.

  Because I didn’t know.

  The Luna who was more obsessed with her money than her values liked fitness instructors who also believed in what I believed in.

  This new Luna—trying to navigate life after being exposed so painfully to the public—liked men like Beck, who were not vegan and had no money… but who had hope.

  Did that make any sense?

  I clicked over to my Instagram profile—the picture of me and Sunshine was still there, and it felt like it’d been taken a year ago instead of this afternoon. I pulled it up and experienced that same pinch in my gut. But I read the comments, every single one. And for the most part?

  They were positive.

  Even Jasmine had mentioned it in one of her many increasingly frantic text messages. That picture of you and the stray is solid gold!! People love dogs, Luna. Keep playing that angle. Are there any other dogs you can rescue and can you film it next time?

  The issue being that Beck wasn’t an angle.

  What I’d done wasn’t an angle.

  Using it to improve my reputation, however, was.

  I deleted the picture.

  31

  Beck

  The next morning I got to Lucky Dog early. My nerves were heightened. It reminded me of how I used to be as a kid. Jumpy. After leaving Luna, I was restless all night—I felt guilty and kind of pissed.

  It wasn’t comfortable.

  Nor was the call I’d gotten from Elián, telling me about the picture of Luna and I that was online. Beck Mason’s parents are the infamous Georgie and Rip Mason, notorious for their violent club fights, extortion and racketeering out of the Miami Devils MC.

  Yeah, no shit.

  And the thing Rip and Georgie hated more than the cops was media attention.

  I’d inspected the campus as the sun rose, relieved to find the dogs fine, happy, unaffected. But at half-past six, I wasn’t surprised when I heard the familiar roar of motorcycles, racing down the road right outside Lucky Dog. My ear picked out four, maybe five bikes. I’d stood outside my trailer, clutching a cup of coffee and scowled at the noise. There were plenty of riders who enjoyed the cool morning air. It didn’t mean it was the Devils.

  And when they’d ridden past, tires squealing, I thought I saw leather jackets on all five of them. Skulls on the back of each.

  But I couldn’t be sure.

  I didn’t fucking like it. Them coming here, to me, I could handle.

  What if they came for Luna?

  Which was why when I saw—and then heard—Luna’s car crunching over the gravel in our driveway, I thought I was dreaming.

  She was real though. It was barely seven in the morning and Luna was striding toward me with a cup of coffee in her hand and a bag that smelled delicious. She was makeup-less and smiling at me in the sunshine.

  A dream, indeed.

  “An apology coffee,” she said, pressing it into my hands. “And apology donuts.”

  “What are you apologizing for?” I asked.

  “Can I come in?” she asked, biting her lip.

  I opened the door to my office, tilted my head to invite her inside. She slid past me, keeping our bodies apart, and settled on the old couch along the back wall.

  “From Carbs ’n Coffee,” she said. “I figured you for a classic old-fashioned donut and black coffee.”

  Impressed, I opened the bag. Held out a piece for her. “I ate two vegan ones on the way over.”

  I settled on the edge of my desk. “Thank you,” I said.

  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I felt really weird when you left last night. And as you know, I’m trying to correct my mistakes, analyze my actions more. And I…” She paused, took a deep breath. “I think taking you to the enclave without talking to you about it first was an unnecessary power dynamic shift. To be clear, I’m not apologizing for my success. I earned that mansion.”

  “I kind of… wanted you to.”

  “I know you did,” she said, smiling more broadly than I expected. “Operating in this world as a billionaire is one thing. Doing it as a woman is another. I take that responsibility seriously and I never want to feel ashamed for achieving something that men get to do all the time.”

  I sipped the coffee, turning this over. “I agree. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, really,” she said. “Because beyond that, on a personal level, I get why it made you pissed off or uncomfortable or whatever. Like I was throwing it in your face. I’d never, ever do that to you on purpose, Beck. But I was probably doing it unconsciously.”

  “I think I was kind of being a dick though,” I admitted.

  “And I think I was kind of being insensitive though,” she said, eyebrow lifted.

  I took another sip, my eyes on her luminous ones. “Would you call this the nice kind of impasse?”

  “I think so.” She bit her lip. “I’m really sorry, Beck.”

  “I’m sorry, Luna,” I said.

  “Friends again?” She held her hand out, indicating for me to shake. I shook it like we had that first day. And like that first day, my fingers wrapped around her small wrist, her palm touching mine like a shock. The interesting kind. I let my thumb stroke across her inner wrist. Her breathing hitched.

  “Friends,” I said roughly. Tried not to indulge the fantasy that called to me with Luna looking so pretty in my office. Of sinking to my knees and spreading her bare legs. Showing her with my mouth how much I appreciated her honesty.

  “Tell me about Bluewater,” I said instead. “I want to know about where you live.”

  “You sure you’re interested?” she asked.

  I nodded. Sipped.

  “My three best friends are also billionaires,” she said. “We wanted a place that was for us. We wanted to be neighbors so we could see each other all the time. Daisy, who’s a real estate mogul, created a design that was pretty epic. So now we live with a bunch of weird and kooky rich people.” She smiled. “At the end of the day, the four of us at least have each other, to listen when we’re victims of misogyny or harassment or manipulation from our male peers. Friends help. Feeling safe helps.” Luna leaned in like she was sharing a secret. “Also we accidentally designed the bay that our four houses face to look like a uterus.”

  I coughed around my coffee. “You’re serious?”

  “Totally,” she said. “And our street? It’s one of the ovaries.”

  I laughed for real, releasing a day’s worth of odd tension. She giggled, sitting back against the couc
h. “I’m not joking. I live on a street shaped like an ovary with my three best friends. As you know, celebrating the beauty of the female form is a priority of mine.”

  If someone had told me a month ago that I’d be sitting with an extremely rich woman, joking about ovaries and drinking a coffee she’d brought me… I would have called that person a damned liar.

  “To have friends like that, family like that,” I said, “well, you’re lucky. They don’t seem to use money like a weapon.”

  Luna tilted her head. “I’m extremely lucky, yes. Did your parents use money like a weapon?”

  I cleared my throat. “If we didn’t have enough, and we almost never did, it was easy to get a fourteen-year-old to go out and get some for you.”

  Her face darkened. “Was that where your arrests came from?”

  “Not always,” I admitted. “I guess sometimes I wanted my parents to… notice me.”

  That sentence landed like a thud between us. But Luna didn’t make a cheesy oh, poor you sound or spew some Hallmark bullshit. “Then I’m happy you have a new family now. Lucky Dog. Wes and Jem and Elián. The dogs. All of their adoptive humans. And if you ever need more family, we’ve got extra room at Bluewater.”

  Her smile lit up every dark shadow in my heart.

  “I’ll keep that offer in mind,” I said, voice thick.

  “Like you said, money can be used for evil. It can also be used for good. I’ve let my money control me. I want to change that, starting with Lucky Dog. Thank you for letting me have that experience here. For helping me learn.”

  “Of course,” I replied.

  Luna looked at the watch on her wrist, sighed. “As much as I’d love to stay here all day, I’ve got a crucial meeting in two hours I need to prepare for.”

  Luna stood gingerly, making her way toward me like she wasn’t entirely sure about it. The tips of her toes touched the tips of my shoes. I was still leaning against the desk, which put me closer to eye-level with the rainbow billionaire, who was suddenly stepping into my space, fingers resting lightly on my ribcage. I felt the soft brush of her lips on my cheek, those same lips hovering at my ear. My fingers gripped the desk as her closeness set my entire body on fucking fire.