The Billionaire's Heart: Always Mine (A Billionaire Love Story Book 1)

by J. S. Brent

  “No. He’s alone.”

  “Take it.”

  ***

  Luke sat down. A sniper? The odds were highly unlikely.

  “How am I going to do this?” Luke looked around.

  Something felt off. Wrong off, not off balance off. But…wait…

  Luke dove to the ground after hearing something almost completely silent.

  Something whizzed past his head. He discreetly followed the path with his eyes as the item flew past him. Well then. There is a sniper. I have to tell Adrian.

  The feeling that was going through Luke’s veins had to be none other than his old friend adrenaline. It just couldn’t leave him alone.

  But he didn’t blame it. He couldn’t. There were just some situations that would cause an adrenaline rush that were all part of the right hand man job. He’d have to get used to it if he wanted to continue to be Adrian’s right hand man in the future.

  For the moment, however, he just had to warn Adrian and hope it all went well from there. After Adrian knew…Luke could do little more to help him control the situation unless he was given instructions.

  With a sigh, Luke began to walk back to the football field. He’d heard the half time whistle while Adrian had been talking to him. That was just a few moments ago.

  Shaking hard from the adrenaline, Luke sat down for a moment on the bleachers, out of sight of the trees. He had to calm down before he told Adrian.

  Geek Love

  by

  T. Scott

  Chapter One

  “Did you hear about the Fitzpatrick girl?” The beautiful woman with red hair said to me, almost yelling as I took an emery board to her almost perfect, cat-like, nails.

  “No,” I replied, half laughing.

  She slapped her other almost perfect hand down on the glass counter that separated us and rolled her eyes as if whatever she was talking about had been national news.

  “How long have you lived in this town?” she said, nearly yelling in my face, “I mean, I know it’s not a small town, but you look like you could be from here.”

  “Thanks,” I replied halfheartedly, not wanting to chip her nails as I filed away.

  “OK, well since you obviously don’t know I’ll tell you,” she laughed.

  The woman crossed her long legs that were sheathed in black Cuban stocking and began to regale me with a tale of local gossip that I really had no interest in listening to. I laughed when she laughed, gasped when she gasped, threw in an “oh my god” when it was appropriate and sighed when I had to, all the while not taking my eyes off of her fingers.

  I really could have done without the gossip that day, but it was my job. I had noticed that some of the other women working in the salon had more of an attitude with their customers, but being new I wanted to be as polite as possible. So I glued myself in my chair, filed the women’s nails and listened to their mindless banter. Maybe I was just nervous and new, maybe it was just being back home, maybe it was breaking up with my fiancé, but I felt as if I could have tuned out the entire apocalypse if I wanted to.

  “OH!” the woman screamed as I applied a fresh coat of crimson polish, making me jostle and almost get some on the soft, pale skin of her fingers.

  I gasped and recoiled my arm, my heart jumping into my chest as I look for any sign of imperfection. She looked at her hand, examining it, then laughed a nice full laugh.

  “I’m sorry sweetheart,” she said in her cracked voice through her laughter. She took her un-manicured hand and placed it on mine, trying to comfort me.

  “I can be a little loud sometimes,” she squeezed my hand and smiled.

  “Oh, no” I said, squeezing back, “You’ll have to excuse me, I only started working here last week, I’m just trying really hard not to mess up.”

  The woman looked at her nails, her green eyes radiant underneath the buzzing florescent lights.

  “Oh sweetie, you’re doing a fine job,” she placed her hand back on the table as I dipped the brush back in the polish and sat straight up in my chair, bracing myself for more of the local gossip.

  “So, as I was saying,” she began, her loud voice echoing throughout the salon, “she was seen that night with her husband’s brother…”

  I let her voice trail off in my mind, and tried to go into my own thoughts as the chorus of slander played out all around me.

  Four years ago I would have listened tentatively, would have wanted to know every detail about the goings on of my surrounding, but not anymore. I had just returned home from college only two weeks after graduation, and was still trying desperately to re-familiarize myself back in my home city. I had found a loft apartment down town, and was lucky enough to have found a job at one of the local clothing boutiques and the nail salon. My apartment was not “nice” by most people’s standards, but after living in a dormitory for a year, and then my ex, it was more like my own little paradise than it was a slum. The neighbors fought, there was a barking dog down the block and the pipes rattled when I turned on the hot water, but it was mine.

  “Ya know darlin’” my father had said on the phone to me as I cried, it was the night I had found Jack cheating on me, “you’re always welcome to come and live with us.”

  The mere thought of moving back in with my family at the age of twenty-two sent shivers down my spine. Jack and I had been engaged for a year at that point. A date had been set and invitations sent out. I had flown in my best friend to help me pick out the perfect dress, which we did with tears of joy rolling down our faces. I had the perfect ring, the perfect little rented house, we talked about having children; we were going to have three. Then it happened one night.

  It’s all for the best, I thought to myself as I applied a clear top coat to her nails. You were only twenty, you had no business being engaged, none the less married.

  The image of them in our bed raced through my mind. A shiver went down my spine making my hands shake and almost dropping the brush.

  “You OK, sweetie?” The beautiful woman said, noticing my error.

  “Yea-yeah,” I stuttered, gripping the brush, “just a little cold in here, that’s all.

  The woman looked up at the ceiling and sighed, slapping her one, now perfectly manicured hand against her knee.

  “Well no wonder sugar!” she yelled, pointing up, “they got you sitting underneath the cooling vent, you must be freezing.”

  I laughed reassuringly as I shifted my weight in my chair. She reached around to the back of her chair and pulled out her fur-trimmed cardigan and placed it on the glass countertop.

  “Here ya’ go baby,” she said, pushing the cloth over the table.

  I pushed the cloth back and tried to give her my warmest smile. It was nice to be treated so well by a customer, over the past two weeks most of the women I had worked with either wouldn’t say a word to me, or howled over their cell phones the entire time, only stopping to snap their fingers at me, lest I be making an error. This woman was obviously well off too. Well, more well off than most of the women I had met so far. I had seen her car pull up outside of the salon. It was a car that was lavish, but not to the point of being tacky, its polished black wheels setting off the scartchless ,eggshell of the frame. She wore a tight red pencil skirt with a button up black shirt tucked in at the waist, her shiny black heels ticked on the marble as she crossed the room, her storm of red locks trailing behind her. She had a natural ease about her, a natural kindness that I did not find with all of my other customers.

  Yet another sign of old money, I thought to myself, wondering what it must have been like to grow up with those kind of riches.

  She took her cardigan back and shook her head at me, disapprovingly.

  “I think I’ll be OK,” I laughed.

  “Suit yourself,” She shrugged, placing the cardigan back over the chair, “but I would talk to you your boss about that, no reason for you to freeze indoors all day.”

  I pulled her hand closer to me and began to paint her ring finger, w
hich was adorned with a diamond that was large enough to make her hand feel heavier than the other.

  “OK, well as I was saying,” she began again, bushing her large, auburn locks to the side of her perfectly angular face.

  I stared into the ring as it caught beams of sun that streamed through the window. It was mesmerizing; seeming almost yellow and pink at the same time. I wondered what it must have been like to have such wealth. I had been struggling only in my first two weeks back home to make my car payments and rent, not to mention my student loans. This woman wore a rock on her finger that probably cost more than 100 students tuition. I tried to focus on her nails and not think about it.

  I remembered the day Jack had proposed to me. It was a clear, autumn day and the leaves blew down the street we lived on. There was a slight chill in the air, just enough so you could wear your favorite sweater, enjoy a cup of cider and snuggle up in an armchair, your cold nose tucked into your favorite scarf.

  “And then he said,” the woman voice trailed off as I got lost in my own thoughts.

  He had proposed to me by the lake at the end of our street; my favorite place to go and sit when my mind got too heavy. The golden beams of sun danced off the water as he got down on one knee. I felt my heart go into my throat as he pulled the small, black velvet box from his sports coat.

  “YES!” I screamed before he could even let the words escape his mouth.

  He stood up and pushed the small, silver, jeweled ring onto my finger; it had fit perfectly. We stood in each other’s arms as the sun set around us, and stayed like that until dark.

  “Honey, you OK,” The woman’s voice broke my concentration.

  I jumped and looked at her. I had gotten so caught up in my own memories I had just been staring off at her ring for I don’t know how long. I stuttered and coughed as I tried to clear the fog from my head.

  “Oh, I-I’m so sorry, but that’s some ring you have on there,” I said smiling, my voice fake and plastic.

  The woman smiled and stretched out her hand, shoving the large rock under my nose.

  “You like it?” she said smiling, looking pleased with herself, “I got it from a former lover.”

  “Former?” I asked, wanting to know more.

  She nodded and smiled, almost looking bashful.

  “Yes, the gentleman have always loved me,” she examined her ring before placing her hand back on the table.

  We sat in silence as I placed a florescent light over her nails, trying to dry them.

  She sighed before breaking the silence, “So, what about you, I bet you the guys are lined up and down the street for you miss…..” her voice trailed off, “I’m sorry, I-I never got your name.”

  I laughed and pushed the light closer to her hand. She talked so fast I was surprised she wasn’t out of breath. Nonetheless catch my name.

  “Beth, my name is Beth,” I said with a smile, not wanting her to feel bad about her little indiscretion.

  She smiled back and then looked at the job I was doing on her nails, seeming pleased.

  “Well Beth,” she began, “why don’t you tell me about the man, or MEN! In your life?”

  I laughed and shook my head, wanting so bad to change the subject. It was bad enough I could barely make a move without thinking about him, but to have to talk about it was a completely different beast.

  “Well,” I started, trying to come up with a lie, “I just moved back here, so it’s the single life for me for just now.”

  There Beth, I thought, you don’t have to lie, you just don’t have to tell them.

  “Well honey!” She exclaimed, examining her fingers, “good for you! No reason to need a man in your life, that is unless you want one.”

  I nodded my head and smiled, hoping she would notice how uncomfortable I was with the conversation as I kept my head down.

  “Just when you do find yourself wanting a man in your life, make sure he’s good enough for you. No reason to waste your precious time on someone who really doesn’t care about you,” she folded her legs and looked out the window for a bloated moment and I sighed a breath of relief in my head, thinking she had run out of thing to say.

  “What am I going on about,” she laughed and looked back at me, I braced myself, “You’re just a child, what you can’t be any older than, what, 21,22 at the most?”

  “22” I grumbled, finishing her pinky nail and ready to run out of the salon and never come back.

  “Oh, 22! Well then, you’ve got a long way to go Beth. If there were anything I’ve regretted in my life it was wasting time on people who would never love me as much as I loved them, and that’s the truth.”

  Her words made my hair stand on edge, maybe she did know what she was talking about. I finished her last nail and wanted to jump from my seat, eager to end the conversation before she asked anymore questions.

  “I’ll-I’ll” I stuttered, getting up from my chair. “I’ll go get your bill, may I get you anything to drink?”

  She laughed and waved her hands in her face, “Just tell your boss to put it on my bill, tell them Misty was here, she’ll know.”

  I nodded my head, not wanting to contest what she said. She pulled out a cellphone and dialed a number, carefully lifting the phone to her ear, not wanting to mess up her nails. I turned and made my way towards reception, wanting to give her privacy.

  “Yes, hello, Adam, I’m ready to be picked up,” her loud voice boomed from behind me.

  I walked over to reception and asked her to take a note for me that her manicure would be going on her bill.

  “Oh, you got Misty?” The girl said.

  I hadn’t yet learned her name, but something told me that she was even younger than I was, a blank look of innocence radiated in her eyes like a calf.

  “Yes, she-she’s something,” I laughed.

  “Oh yeah, she’s great,” she leaned over the desk at me and motioned me towards her, I put my face to hers as she whispered into my ear, “super good tipper too-no matter how well you did, she’s well,” she rubbed her fingers together, the international symbol of riches.

  I turned around and looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was listening in on our conversation. Misty sat cross-legged at my table, staring out the window waiting for her car, the long, elegant fingers of her right hand still placed underneath the fluorescent bulb.

  “Also,” the receptionist said as she grabbed my hand, a wide grin spreading across her face, “maybe if you take her on as a regular, you’ll be able to meet Adam!” The girl shrugged her shoulders and let out a small girlish squeal of excitement. I pulled my hand back and pushed my curly, brown hair behind my ear.

  I wanted to be nice to the young girl, all of the other women who worked there seemed to treat her like a common work horse, perhaps because of her age. I also didn’t want to be seen being unprofessional. I looked at her as she was waiting for me to answer her, her eyes like that of a puppy, hungry for attention.

  God, I thought to myself, this must be exactly what I looked like the first week of college, so desperate. I felt pins go into my heart as I looked at her, and after a couple of moments I caved, leaning back into her.

  “Adam, you say,” I said as I smiled back to her, her eyes lighting up as I expressed interest in what she had to say.

  She leaned in and slipped her fingers around my wrists, her hands warm and smooth to the touch.

  “Oh, Beth!” she exclaimed, for a moment I felt a twinge of guilt for never have learning her name. How could I not have learned it by now, I heard her say it at least 50 times a day as she answered the phone. “I think he’ll be picking her up today, he’s literally the-,” she stopped short and recoiled her hands from mine and sat straight up in her chair, her eyes darting back and forth.

  “Hey,” I said leaning into her, she looked up and shook her head furiously, motioning for the door.

  Before I could turn my head the doorbells rang. He walked through the door with an almost sweeping motion, his head he
ld high, his eyes shielded by sunglasses. I swallowed hard as I stared at him and tried to breath; I had never seen anyone like him in my entire life. He had short blond hair that was softly gelled back, framing his perfect face, a small five o’clock shadow darkened his features, but only slightly. He stood tall, his massive broad shoulders covered with a white, button up work shirt with the sleeves folded up, exposing his muscular forearms. His tight fitted pinstriped pants showed his shaped thighs. His shoes were black leather, obviously expensive. Over his arm he carried a suit jacket matching his pants, with his other hand he reached up and removed his sunglasses. The mere sight of him made my knees weak and took the air completely out of the room. I swear a hush permeated the establishment as he stood there, not even noticing the impression he was having on the women around him. His Azure eyes glanced over the salon, I could feel the room become tense as he stood before us. He looked like a living Greek god. I heard the receptionist try to stutter something, but it all came out as gibberish.

  “oh yoohoo!!” A voice pieced through the room, sending the air back into our lungs.

  Misty stood up, waving at the man, smiling a big, generous smile.

  “Adam, right here darling!” She waved at him, only a mere 20 feet away.

  I looked at him and saw him roll his eyes, as if he were getting embarrassed by his mother. He did look a bit younger than her, especially when he was blushing as she gathered her things from my desk. His massive body and whiskers made him look manly, but I could see a bit of boyishness behind his large, blue, almond shaped eyes. She couldn’t have been much older than him, 7 maybe 10 years at the max, but it was enough to make me guess what their relationship was. Misty came running up to him and stood on her tippy toes, kissing him on both cheek, he almost recoiled.

  “Oh, are we in a bad mood today,” Misty said in a baby voice, pinching his cheek, teasing him. He took her hand and removed it from his face.

  “Not now, Misty,” he growled as he took her cardigan and pushed it over his shoulders. His voice was low dark, sounding like it should have come out of a large cat and not a man.