The Lucky Billionaire (Destination Billionaire Romance)

by Lewis, Jeanette

  “No Rodeo Drive?” Misty said, disappointment evident in her tone.

  “What’s Rodeo Drive?” Ty asked.

  “What? C’mon . . . Pretty Woman? Julia Roberts and the shopping montage?” Misty prodded him in the back with her finger.

  He vaguely remembered hearing a song about it, but drew a blank at the movie. “Sorry, not ringing any bells.” Ty swung into a parking space.

  “Rodeo Drive is where all the top designers are,” Misty said with authority.

  “Oh, then I’m glad we’re missing it,” Ty replied. “I’m not buying anything from some snooty designer.”

  A small smile hovered on Holland’s lips as she got out of the car. “This place has plenty of designers too,” she said. “I just thought we’d find more here in your style.”

  “That is definitely not my style,” Ty declared, pointing to a display of rhinestone skulls and studded leather jackets in the window of Lace+Bones.

  “Of course not. Give me some credit.” Holland gave him a mischievous smile and led the way to the white stone facade of Barneys New York.

  “Mercy,” Misty drawled in her best Roy Orbison impression.

  Ty would rather face a diamondback rattler with nothing but a peashooter than follow Holland into the store. Inside was cool, almost cold, and that wasn’t just the temperature of the air. Two clerks looked up when they entered and appeared to be having had a silent staring contest where the loser had to wait on them.

  If Holland noticed, she gave no sign. She marched to the men’s section and began pulling suit jackets off the rack.

  “May I help you?” One of the clerks approached them, having evidentially lost the contest. She couldn’t have been more than twenty. Her platinum blond hair hung in rippling waves to her waist, and her makeup was so thick Ty bet he could have scraped it off with a credit card.

  “I’m Holland Morrissey with Enlighten Images. We need clothes for him.” Holland tipped her head toward Ty, but her eyes never left the clerk’s.

  Either the agency had name recognition, or Holland won some kind of telepathic battle, because the clerk was suddenly all smiles. “Of course. Why don’t I get a dressing room started for you?”

  Holland moved closer to Ty and reached up to hold a navy suit jacket under his chin. She narrowed her green eyes and caught the tip of her tongue between her teeth as she evaluated the color against his skin. The smell of her perfume washed over him, a sharp, cool scent that reminded him of an ocean breeze.

  His pulse picked up at her nearness. He picked up the sleeve of the jacket and glanced at the tag.

  “Six hundred dollars?” he gasped in a whisper. “This suit is six hundred dollars?”

  “This is a separate,” Holland said. She replaced the jacket on the rack and reached for a gray one. “We’ll look at suits too, but I think you’ll get more use out of separates.”

  “What the heck is a separate?” Ty asked.

  “Just what it sounds like. The jacket is separate from the pants. That way we can mix and match,” Holland explained. She held the gray one to his face.

  “Wait a second . . . just that jacket is six hundred dollars?” Ty dodged out of the way and grabbed the price tag. “This one is seven-fifty,” he said almost accusingly.

  “Whoa,” Misty said, clearly as horrified as her brother.

  The clerk made a grab for the jacket. “I can put that in a room for you if you’d like.”

  “No way,” Ty said forcefully. “I’m not paying that much for something I’m only wearing once.”

  Holland’s smile slipped a little as she turned to the clerk. “Could you give us just a minute, please?”

  The clerk slid gracefully out of range, and Holland whirled on Ty. “You’re a billionaire and you’re whining about seven hundred dollars?” she hissed. “In the time we’ve been arguing, you’ve probably earned enough in interest to buy every jacket in this store.”

  Ty squared his shoulders. “That’s not the point. Just because I can afford it doesn’t mean I need it.”

  “Why did you hire me if you’re not going to do what I tell you?” she whispered, her tone strained.

  “She’s got a point,” Misty said. From the look on her face, Ty gathered she was enjoying the show.

  “I am going to do what you tell me, if it’s reasonable,” he told Holland. “But I’ve seen jackets just like that at Kohl’s for less than a hundred bucks.”

  Holland gasped as if he’d just cursed in church. “No, you have not.” She clutched the jacket protectively to her chest.

  “Are you two about done? Because I really need to sit down,” Misty said.

  Ty locked eyes with Holland. She pressed her lips together stubbornly and hugged the absurdly expensive jacket.

  He sighed. “Fine. But I still think it’s stupid.”

  Holland relaxed. “You’ll thank me later, because you are going to look fantastic on TV.”

  What followed was a nightmare. Ty was used to buying clothes in twenty minutes or less—in and out, grab what you need and be done with it.

  But Holland made him try on practically everything in the store. Every time he came out of the dressing room, she studied his outfit as carefully as if she were picking the championship ewe at the county fair. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant to have Holland’s undivided attention, but he’d have rather it for something other than his ability to act like a mannequin.

  At one point, he looked over in bewilderment at Misty, who was sitting nearby. Her helpless shrug told him she was equally confused.

  “So we have the charcoal suit with the pinstriped shirt and the plum tie, and the hickory jacket with the navy trousers, white shirt, and the blue tie,” Misty told Holland. She’d been given the task of organizing Holland’s “maybe” piles.

  “What do you think?” Holland asked.

  It took Ty a moment to realize she was talking to him. “Um, sure. Whatever you say,” he replied, relieved the ordeal was almost over.

  Only it wasn’t.

  “You’ll need put those back on,” Holland said. “We’ll need the measurements for tailoring.”

  Misty giggled from her seat on a comfortable sofa. They’d even given her a footstool and a soda. “Hang in there, big brother,” she said, toasting him with her can of Fanta orange.

  Ty gritted his teeth and turned obediently back to the dressing room.

  * * *

  The bill came to over four grand and Holland watched Ty swipe his credit card with a sense of satisfaction. Ty might balk at the cost, but she’d prove it was worth every penny; he was going to look amazing. The only fly in the ointment was when he’d refused to buy the crocodile leather belt she’d picked to go with the hickory jacket. It would have been perfect, but when Ty saw the four-hundred-dollar price tag and started scowling, she knew she’d pushed far enough.

  “We’ll have these delivered to your office by tomorrow afternoon,” the clerk told Holland as she handed over the receipt.

  “Almost five thousand dollars and I’m walking out of here empty-handed,” Ty grumbled as they left the store.

  “They have to be tailored,” Holland insisted. “If you’re going to spend that kind of money, you deserve a perfect fit.” Though part of her had to admit, the fit had been pretty nearly perfect already. She cast an appreciative glance over his tall, lanky frame. The guy could cut a fine figure when he wanted to, she’d give him that.

  “I don’t know where I’ll ever wear it again,” he said.

  “You don’t need to wear it again; you need to wear it now. That’s all that matters.”

  “I’m starving,” Misty announced. “Shall we find a late lunch or an early dinner or whatever it is?”

  “Are you hungry?” Ty turned his brown eyes on Holland.

  “Not really, but if you are, we could use the break to go over your interview questions,” she said. “And since you’ve been such a good sport, it’s my treat.”

  They reached the mall’s café, and Ty
and Holland found a table while Misty was in the restroom.

  “What would you say to a little more shopping?” Ty asked. “For Misty,” he added quickly when Holland glanced at him in surprise. “She’d love to be spoiled a little bit.”

  The pale yellow sundress Misty was wearing didn’t do much for her complexion. Holland could definitely recommend a switch to jewel tones and some updated makeup.

  “I’ll pay you extra,” Ty offered at her hesitation.

  “It’s not that,” Holland said. “I just don’t want to wear her out.”

  “Why don’t we ask her when she gets back,” Ty suggested.

  Misty was delighted. She hurried them through lunch and bounced by Holland’s side as they made their way to the maternity section of Barneys. This time it was Ty who scored the comfy chair and the soda while Holland and Misty scoured the racks.

  “We can text you when we’re done if you’d rather not wait,” Holland offered.

  Ty stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles with a satisfied sigh. “No worries. As long as it’s not me parading around like a model, I’m good.”

  They locked eyes, and Holland’s pulse picked up. This called for a challenge. Throwing Ty a saucy smile, she made her way to one section in particular.

  “Try this one,” she said a few minutes later as she knocked on Misty’s dressing room door. The silky peacock-blue fabric slid like a waterfall through her fingers as she passed the dress over the door.

  “Gorgeous!” Misty squealed from inside.

  “Make sure you come out and show us,” Holland instructed.

  When Misty came around the corner a few minutes later, Holland was unable to suppress a gasp of excitement. The rich blue color of the dress made Misty’s skin glow and her eyes startlingly bright. The dress hung in soft flowing folds that draped gently over her protruding stomach to her knees, and the short sleeves and sweetheart neckline drew attention to her face.

  “You look incredible!” Holland squealed.

  Misty beamed as she twirled in the dress, making the skirt flare. “It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.” Her face fell. “But it’s too expensive. I just wanted you to see.”

  “How much?” Ty asked. He sat with his elbows propped on the arms of the chair, his fingers steepled just under his chin.

  “Too much,” Misty said, shaking her head. “Plus I’d only be able to wear it for a few more weeks until the baby comes.”

  “How much?” Ty asked again, more forcefully.

  “Four hundred dollars,” Misty whispered.

  “Get it,” Ty said.

  “What? No way. I don’t even have anyplace I’d wear it.”

  “Just get it,” Ty said with a sigh. “You look amazing and you know it. It’s like that dress was made just for you.”

  Misty gave a happy little squeal and clapped her hands. As she disappeared around the corner, Ty’s eyes flickered to Holland’s. He knew what she’d done.

  “But seven-fifty is way too much for a jacket?” Holland teased.

  Ty shrugged helplessly. “You saw her; how can I say no to that face?”

  “I can make you an appointment for a cut and highlights,” Holland offered after Misty came out of the dressing room.

  “Go for it,” Ty told her. “Mom and Dad aren’t going to recognize either of us.”

  “Yes they will; we’ll go for subtlety,” Holland assured him. “I’ll schedule Misty’s appointment at the same time I make yours. And you are getting highlights, so don’t even try to argue with me about it,” she told Ty.

  He gave her a pained expression.

  4

  Friday morning came too fast, and at six-thirty a.m., Ty found himself on the set of Channel Five’s Good Day LA. It was almost identical to the set from last time, only this leggy blonde was perched on a tall stool instead of an easy chair. Terri McGruber’s eyes had roved over him appreciatively when they met, and while he didn’t much like the slightly naughty expression on her face, he had to admit he felt much more confident this time.

  He shot a glance at Holland, who stood to one side, deep in conversation with the producer. She was definitely earning her fee. He hadn’t expected her to show up at the taping, but she’d insisted.

  Speaking of earning her fee, Ty’s gaze moved on to Misty, who sat at the back of the studio again. As much as Holland’s touch had changed him, Ty had to admit that she’d done an even more remarkable job with Misty. The blue maternity dress flattered rather than hid his sister’s figure, making her look like what she was—an attractive young woman who happened to be pregnant. Her ponytail was gone, replaced by soft waves that she’d taken great pains to style, and whatever changes to her makeup Holland had shown her were clearly working. Pregnant or not, she looked fantastic, and Ty hadn’t missed the glances directed at her from some of the studio’s male employees.

  Speaking of fantastic, Holland looked gorgeous as usual. Today she wore a simple navy business suit with some kind of frilly white blouse underneath. His fingers itched to touch the soft black waves of hair that framed her face. The studio’s male employees were looking at her too, but in this case, Ty’s feelings were much less of the brotherly pride sort. In fact, he kind of wanted to march over and tell some of them off.

  As if she felt him watching, Holland glanced up, and their eyes met. For a moment it was as if they were the only two people in the room. The studio noise faded as he took in her exquisite face and her beautiful eyes, shining as if she had a secret just for him. His pulse began hammering. How did she put so much into just a look?

  “We’re back in thirty seconds,” Terri told him. “Are you ready?”

  Ty yanked himself back to reality. “Yeah.”

  “Wait!” Holland zoomed over, bringing the scent of her breezy ocean perfume. She reached out to smooth a piece of his hair back. “You doing okay?” she asked.

  He nodded, trying to focus on taking deep breaths. The sensation of her fingers in his hair was not helping the pulse situation.

  “Smile!” she whispered before hurrying away.

  Ty swallowed hard and tried for focus. The music began and he watched the screens mounted on the front of the camera as the picture swooped across the studio to zero in on Terri.

  “Today we’re talking with Ty Epperson, recent winner of Idaho’s billion-dollar lottery. Yes, you heard that right. Billion,” she chirped. “So Ty, one day you’re herding sheep, the next you’re a billionaire. That’s got to be quite an adjustment.”

  Focus on the interviewer, not the camera. Ty heard Holland’s voice in his head and tried to smile. “Yeah, a pretty big adjustment.”

  “What’s been the biggest change in your life so far?”

  They’d practiced this. “Well, I’ve started a foundation to address land ownership in the western US and specifically central Idaho.” Did that really just come from him? It sounded almost . . . good.

  Terri was nodding. “That sounds like a worthy cause. What will your focus be?”

  Another of the questions they’d practiced. Ty’s confidence grew. He talked about land ownership, development, how the land would be better managed by small, local governments than one centralized in Washington—the answers seemed to come effortlessly. He risked a glance at one of the screens and realized he looked . . . not quite relaxed, but at least much better than he had at the first interview. At least he didn’t look like he was facing a firing squad. And Holland’s help definitely made a difference. The lights glinted off the highlights in his hair and caught the brown of his eyes. He made a mental note to thank her and pictured her giving him her saucy little grin.

  “Is there a website where viewers can get more information?” Terri asked when Ty finished speaking.

  Ty gave the website and allowed himself a careful sigh of relief. It was almost over.

  “I’m sure our viewers are interested in your cause,” Terri said, giving him a sly look. “But I happen to know that quite a few a
re also clamoring for more information about you. What about it, Ty? Do you have a girlfriend?”

  His stomach dropped. “Uh . . . what?”

  “Is there someone special in your life?” Terri pressed.

  Off camera, Holland was shaking her head vigorously and drawing one hand across her throat. She was signaling stop, but to who—him or Terri? And was he just supposed to sit here and ignore the question, grinning at Terri like an idiot?

  “I . . . I’d rather not talk about that,” he finally stammered, giving Terri a thin smile.

  “Well, that’s certainly your call.” Terri mugged for the camera. “But I’m willing to bet Hailey, Idaho, is jumping with women who are anxious to find out more about this very lucky new billionaire.”

  The screens flashed to commercial, and Ty sagged in relief. Aside from that little bit near the end, it had gone pretty well. He’d take it.

  Holland did not seem to share his perspective. She stomped across the studio, her high heels hammering on the black painted floor. “Terri, I thought we agreed to stick to the script,” she said tightly.

  Terri shrugged. “We always try to go for a personal angle. It makes the stories better.”

  Holland clamped her lips together, and Ty almost grinned. She looked kind of . . . well, there was no other word for it . . . Holland was adorable standing there with her hands planted on her hips, green eyes flashing.

  “Time’s up,” the producer hollered. After one last stern look at Terri, Holland marched off the stage. Ty thanked Terri and hurried to follow.

  Two down, one more to go.

  * * *

  The third interview was the best one yet. Holland could feel Ty’s relief as they left the studio.

  “Let’s go somewhere for lunch and celebrate,” he suggested on the way to the car.

  “It’s ten o’clock in the morning,” Holland pointed out.

  “Okay, brunch then. I don’t care. I’ll bet Misty’s hungry.”

  “Duh! I’m always hungry,” Misty agreed. “How about seafood?”

  Ty turned so he was walking backward in front of them. His brown eyes sparkled, and the weight of the world seemed to be off his shoulders. He even walked happier. “Seafood sounds fabulous,” he agreed. “This is your town; what do you recommend, Ms. Morrissey?”