Millionaire Hero (Freeman Brothers Book 4)

by Natasha L. Black

  But I couldn’t really avoid everybody until then. Puffing out a breath, I picked my phone up and read Lindsey’s messages again. I sighed and answered.

  I’ll be there after work. But I’m not going to be able to stay for long.

  Yay! The answer came seconds later. That’s fine. You don’t have to. We’ll just be happy to see you.

  Ugh. There it was. “We.” There was no longer a distinction between Lindsey and Vince, apparently.

  It was both convenient and inconvenient for them that I played dual roles in their lives. As Lindsey’s best friend and Vince’s brother, I was a built-in third wheel. Remy made that easier, rounding everything out and turning visits into family gatherings rather than just a couple and an extra. But when he was spending time with his father rather than with Lindsey, I was on the third wheel. They could both have one of their closest people with them by extending just one invitation.

  But her best friend and his brother being only one person did have a certain drawback to them. They couldn’t hook me up with myself. She couldn’t tell her best friend that her boyfriend had a single brother, and he couldn’t tell his lingering single brother his girlfriend’s best friend was single. I came all in one package.

  Setting my phone aside, I noticed a headache beginning behind my eyes. I reached for my coffee mug, but it was empty, so I got up for a refill before diving back into my work for the afternoon. It included a couple of meetings and a nearly endless stream of emails, calls, and paperwork.

  Nothing but glamor was coming from over here.

  I was headed for the promise of fresh coffee when my office door opened. I paused and watched a woman step in. She was beautiful but looked sad and worried.

  “I’m sorry to just come in,” she said.

  Shaking my head, I set my mug down and crossed the room to shake her hand. “It’s alright. Nick Freeman. What can I do for you?”

  Her expression twisted, her eyes darted to the side, and she let out a short exhale as she seemed to wrestle with some sort of internal debate. She wriggled her shoulders and stood up a bit straighter before meeting my eyes again with a determined look.

  “I need you to help me find a way to undo what my ex did and get my money back,” she said.

  It was firm, straightforward, and unflinching. But it told me just about nothing. I had so many questions and thoughts of what I was going to do after getting the nagging need for coffee out of my mind.

  “Come on in,” I said. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

  She nodded and closed the door behind her before stepping further into the office. “That sounds good. Thank you.”

  I went back to the coffee bar and pulled open the cabinet lined with bags of coffee. “Do you have a favorite flavor?”

  She looked at it and lifted her eyebrows. “Wow. That’s some serious commitment.”

  There were few things in my life that word could apply to, but apparently coffee was one of them.

  “Everybody is entitled to a vice.”

  “What are you having?” she asked.

  “A limited-edition grind from my favorite roaster. S’mores flavored.”

  She shrugged, the sad expression on her face not changing. “What the heck. I was a Girl Scout. Lay it on me.”

  I scooped the fragrant grounds into the machine and dispensed two cups. Augmenting hers with her requested cream and sugar, I carried the mugs over to the desk, handed her one, and invited her to sit down.

  “So, tell me your story.”

  3

  Bryn

  The cup of hot coffee held between my hands was comforting, but I still shook with anger, frustration, and sadness. Coming here wasn’t something I’d planned all the way out. It was a sudden decision made after Trish recommended it to me. I hadn’t gone into all the details of the situation with her but told her enough for her to give me Nick Freeman’s name and tell me to go see him.

  I probably should have called and made an appointment. That was what people did when they needed to speak to professionals about sticky, potentially catastrophic financial issues. And yet, there I was, sitting across the desk from him after just letting myself into his office. Not a great look. But there was no receptionist or secretary acting as gatekeeper, and my brain was too full of churning emotions and tangled thoughts to think through my behavior all the way.

  At least he reacted well. He could have tossed me out and told me to make an appointment. Instead, Mr. Freeman, who was not the silver-haired, stern-faced man I was anticipating and rather a perfect vision of a Greek god with dark kempt hair and captivating eyes of the same color, made me coffee and gave me the floor to tell him what was going on.

  I took a deep breath and dove in.

  “When my mother died a few years ago, she left me an inheritance. It wasn’t a massive fortune or anything, but it was her entire life savings. She had been putting it aside for me throughout my entire life. I was her only child, and we spent most of my life just the two of us. She worked extremely hard to provide for me, and she made the account to make sure I would have something to build a future on,” I said.

  “I’m sorry to hear about your mother,” Nick said, catching me off guard with his compassion.

  “Thank you,” I said, stumbling slightly over the words. “After I got the account, I made the decision not to touch it. I didn’t want to live off that money or use it on anything frivolous. I wanted to keep it aside as a nest egg so I could use it for a house, a big important expense, or emergencies. Something other than just siphoning off of it when I wanted extra money.”

  “That’s a very wise decision. Did you ever consider investing it?” he asked.

  “Well,” I said, “that’s actually what I’m getting to. Since I had no intention of using it, I didn’t check on it regularly. I didn’t think I needed to. But then I found out my ex had somehow gotten a hold of the account and drained all the money out of it. He invested it without telling me and managed to lose it all. I spoke with some other investors, but they all told me the same thing. Essentially, there is nothing I can do short of reporting my ex and getting him arrested. But that’s not going to get me my money back. So, that’s why I came to you, Mr. Freeman.”

  “Call me Nick. And you are?” he asked.

  Heat burned across my cheeks as I realized I hadn’t even bothered to introduce myself to him when I came barging in. “Bryn. Bryn Stephens.”

  “Good to meet you, Bryn. So, why is it you came to me exactly?” he asked.

  “Because you’re basically my last hope,” I said, choosing honesty over smoothness. “A friend of a friend told me you are pretty ruthless when it comes to business. That’s exactly what I need. I am at the end of my rope here. That money was everything I had to build my future. It was my connection to my mother. And he stole it from me. Every cent of it. I can’t just let it go.”

  Nick folded his hands on the desk in front of him and nodded, the look in his eyes thoughtful. I stayed quiet, wanting to see if what I’d heard from Trish was correct. She’d reassured me Nick Freeman was the guy I needed. He was fierce and smart and didn’t take crap from anyone. Considering that I had gotten into this mess because I had apparently taken too much crap from Justin, that characteristic was appreciated.

  Letting Justin get away with what he did wasn’t an option for me. I didn’t know what I was going to do about it. The other investors I spoke with didn’t give me any hope at all. Even when they admitted what he did was shady beyond belief and also illegal, there was hesitation. It was like they could absolutely admit Justin did something very wrong and left me in a bind, but they didn’t see much hope in there being a resolution.

  That was what brought me to Freeman Investments. I wanted an expert who would be able to look at exactly what happened and give me an honest, no-bull assessment of exactly what Justin did and what could be done about it. So, I sat and waited while Nick seemed to process through everything he told me. Finally, he gave a nod.

 
“Give me everything you have. All the information you found and anything else that might be applicable to the situation. Make sure you include the name of the investor he went to,” he said.

  I reached down into the bag I put at my feet when I sat down and pulled out a manila folder. Setting it down on the desk in front of me, I slid it across to him. Leaning down like that brought my face close to the mug of coffee, and I inhaled a deep breath of the sweet fragrance. It smelled amazing, and I took a sip.

  “Mmmmm, this is delicious,” I said.

  I looked up and saw Nick with his hand on the folder, one eyebrow quirked up at me questioningly. I shrugged. “I hoped you would be able to help me, so I wanted to be ready. I brought the papers I found in his desk and everything else I was able to get from my bank. The information for the investor is in there.”

  “Well, that definitely saves some time,” he said. “I’ll look over all of this and let you know what I find out.”

  I stood and set the coffee mug down on the desk, extending my hand to him. “Thank you. I really appreciate you doing this. I put one of my cards in the folder so you can call me.”

  “I don’t want to bother you at work. What are your hours?”

  “I work from home,” I told him. “Web coding. You can get me anytime. I’m always available.”

  Nick pulled the folder toward himself and opened it.

  I stood there for a few seconds, waiting for him to make a comment about the papers, or just tell me when he might be getting in touch with me. He stayed buried in the folder, and after a few moments, I slipped out of the office.

  My shoulders felt like a huge weight had been lifted off them when I headed back out to my car. I was still stressed and angry, but things were looking up. Nick was clearly the right guy. He had taken me seriously and was already digging through the information I gave him. It felt like if there was anybody who was going to be able to help me, it would be him.

  I couldn’t wait to thank Trish.

  Getting into my car, I took a few seconds to just breathe and try to calm down. All the emotions of what was going on and the meeting I just had suddenly crashed in on me.

  Tears stung in my eyes, and my chest felt heavy. It was overwhelming and scary, but I also couldn’t stop going over the last conversation with Justin in my mind. He was so cold, so unfeeling. As soon as I called him out on his nonsense and pointed out I knew what he was doing, all the charm was gone. He stopped pretending to have any feelings for me or to want the future we’d been talking about.

  He’d said I was stupid, and in so many ways, that’s how I felt. Not because I didn’t handle the money the way he thought I should have. As soon as I inherited it, I went over my options and thought about what I wanted to do. At the time, leaving it right where Mom put it, secure in the bank, was the best plan. There was no risk if it just sat there, and I was the only one with access to the account, so it was protected. At least, that was what I thought.

  And that was the problem. I felt stupid because of how much trust and care I poured into Justin. The entire time we were together, I fawned on him. I worked hard and provided for myself, and when he realized that, he jumped right on the bandwagon. He fed me a line about wanting to follow his dreams and be an entrepreneur. He lured me into believing in the vision he built of our future. He’d get successful, and we’d have a beautiful, carefree life together.

  I clung to that. Even as he moved into my house and didn’t contribute to the mortgage. Even as I covered the vast majority of the expenses while he limped along with filler jobs he promised were propping up his business. Even when he said he needed to take some time away from work so he could put laser focus on making his business happen. Through all of it, I believed in him. I supported and trusted him.

  And he hung me out to dry.

  That thought took away the sadness and replaced it with another surge of searing anger. I much preferred that. Anger was far better than sadness, and I could use that anger to push me through whatever needed to be done.

  But now all there was to do was wait.

  4

  Nick

  I read through the papers in the folder, trying to get an idea of what exactly had happened. The story Bryn gave seemed fairly straightforward, but I wanted the details. It wasn’t as simple as just clearing out an account and handing over all the money to someone, then it disappeared. That seemed to be the perception a lot of people had of investments. I blamed old TV shows and movies that depicted cluttered, paper-strewn trading floors, screaming investors, and those bleak calls when people found out every cent they had was gone.

  That wasn’t how it actually played out. Her ex had certainly stolen the money from her but losing it in bad investments was trickier. This could go in several different directions, and if I was really going to help her, I needed to figure out what happened.

  After going over the papers, I looked up to ask Bryn a question. She wasn’t standing there, and I realized she’d left. That was fine. I had her number and could get in touch with her if I really needed to. It would be better if I went over everything and got more information before I spoke to her again, anyway.

  Putting the folder aside, I took out my phone to text Gabe. My business partner in the investment firm, Gabe was not just somebody I worked with, but also one of my closest friends. He had been out of the office for the last two weeks after his wife, Cynthia, got seriously injured in an accident. He needed to stay at home with her to help her recover and take care of their son.

  Just checking in, I texted him. How is everybody?

  It took far longer for him to respond than it did Lindsey earlier in the day. I was wading through my inbox and sifting things around to try to get my schedule for the next few days in order when he finally messaged me back.

  He assured me that things were going well and that his wife was healing. I had been tempted to tell him about Bryn. It was an interesting situation I knew he would have liked to sink his teeth into if he was still at the office. But because of everything that was going on with him, I didn’t want him to worry about it. A side job wasn’t something he needed to have on his mind. I would leave him out of it unless it became a big thing I couldn’t unravel on my own.

  As it was, he was still trying to keep up with some of his main clients from home. He had shifted the majority of his accounts over to me, so he didn’t have to think about them while he was on leave. A lot of the less intense work was being handled by junior members of the staff while I managed the more involved elements. But his longest-running clients wanted to deal with him and only him. Which left him scrambling trying to handle it all.

  I felt for him. I wanted to do something for him even though I had no idea what would be helpful. Because that was the ongoing feeling and nothing else came to mind, I ordered him a massive amount of Chinese food to be delivered later that evening, then pre-ordered a pizza for a couple of days later. A basket of cookies, brownies, muffins, and fruit rounded out the care package.

  That done, my eyes wandered back over to the folder. My curiosity almost got the best of me, but I set it aside. I had my own clients to deal with, and time was getting slim before the first meeting of the afternoon. I had to put the file away for after hours.

  Just like I told Lindsey I would be, I ended up staying at the office a couple of hours late. She was already texting and calling to bug me when I was trying to wrap up the last work I was going to do for the day. Finally, I gave in and headed for Vince’s house.

  Remy was sitting on the porch swing next to Vince when I pulled up. The sound of my tires on the driveway made him lift his head and turn toward the driveway. I got out and called to him.

  “Hey, Remy.”

  His face lit up when he heard my voice. “Nick!”

  The little boy wriggled like he wanted to get down off the porch swing, but Vince held him back.

  “No, buddy. You can’t get down. Remember your leg. You need to rest it,” my brother said.

&nbs
p; Remy was recovering after a topple off the back porch of his father’s house resulted in a broken leg and sprained arm. It was a lot for a three-year-old to deal with. Even more frustrating for a blind three-year-old eager to explore the world around him.

  “I want Nick,” Remy said.

  I had to admit, that warmed my heart. Lindsey told me she often talked about me when she spent time with her son before she had more custody of him, so he had been hearing about me since he was born. I had only been a tangible part of his life for a short time, but we’d already formed a bond. It was amazing to see him connect so strongly with my brother and to also feel connected to him in a special way.

  Vince smiled and scooped the little boy up. Arranging him so the leg protected by a cast wasn’t disturbed, he carried him down the steps to me. I took him into my arms for a hug.

  “So, what’s for dinner tonight?” I asked.

  “Mama made ‘a-sa-na’,” he told me, trying hard to say “lasagna.” “And garlic bread.”

  His face screwed up, and he stuck his little tongue out in expression of his disgust toward garlic. I laughed.

  “I love garlic bread,” I told him. “Maybe I’ll just eat all the extra.”

  “Ewww, no kisses!” he said.

  Vince cackled as we walked into the house. Lindsey poked her head out of the kitchen and gave us a questioning look. “What is that all about?”

  “Nothing,” I grumbled.

  Vince shook his head. “Your son is just too smart for his own good.”

  I gave him a look but he just grinned.

  “I’m glad you could join us tonight,” Lindsey said. “Though I don’t know why wouldn’t have been able to. Not like you’ve got a whole lot else going on.”

  “And there it is,” I said, rolling my eyes and dropping down onto one of the stools at the kitchen island.