Enchanted: (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #8): A Fake Fiancée Romance

by Ainsley St Claire

  Jim joins me for the meeting. Greer has asked someone she knows and trusts to make the introduction. “Vanessa Morgan?”

  “William.” She holds me by my upper arm and brings me in for air kisses. “So wonderful to meet you.”

  “Thank you for making the introduction and helping us out.” Since my team at Bettencourt Industries isn’t in the loop, Vanessa and her team will act as our team until it can be handed off.

  We’re getting to know one another when a deep baritone voice says, “Vanessa! So wonderful to see you.”

  “Jeremy, I’d like you to meet William Bettencourt.”

  He extends his hand and I shake it firmly. “Please join me and my team in the conference room.”

  I follow him down the hall and am shocked. There’s an army of ten people at our disposal. When Greer wants all the stops pulled out, she pulls them out! They make introductions, and I only catch what some of them do: media relations, corporate governance, brand management, and several others.

  As we take our seat, we’re provided with coffee and water. Jeremy turns to me. “You have the floor. I was told you have a problem.”

  I walk them through how I came to be the majority shareholder, my father’s sudden death and the suspected murder, the safe-deposit box in San Francisco, and my meeting with the FBI. No one asks any questions as I share with them what Bettencourt Industries is currently facing and that I can’t go to anyone in the company currently because I don’t know who they’re going to arrest.

  When I’m finished, the woman across the table from me breaks the silence. “Wow. I’m Liz Crown, and I’ll be heading this up and be your point of contact. I’m sure we have a lot of questions, so bear with us.”

  I nod. “I’ll do my best to answer them.”

  “You know the names of five of the twenty-plus pedophiles—one is your CEO and three sit on your board. There could be others you can’t identify.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “William, I’m Neil Rube, and I’m with research. That’s good news because they may not make it a flashy arrest if they want them to turn others in.”

  “I got the impression from the FBI they could name most of the perpetrators. I could be wrong.”

  “I’m Adam Warner with media relations. This will be a significant bust for the FBI; they’re most likely going to go big. We’ll want to plan for that. We can get you on all the morning shows and really play up your backstory about your dad dying to protect the children despite what it would do to the company.”

  “That’s great. That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”

  The meeting runs for four hours. I’m drained but finally feel exhilarated. I have a path, and it leads to a light at the end of the tunnel. We agree to multiple meetings over the next few days, a few here, but most will be over video conferencing.

  Jeremy walks us out. “Are you staying in The City tonight?”

  “No, I’ll head back to Philly tonight.”

  “Would you like a drink before you go?”

  “Thank you, but I’ll have to pass.” As tired as I am, I’m just interested in getting back to my hotel in Philadelphia.

  “Next time then.” He turns to Vanessa. “I’m looking forward to working with you again. Maybe I’ll be able to convince you to finally bring your team over.”

  “We’ll see.” We get onto the elevator, and she walks us down. “I love that man, but they work too hard. Crisis management firms like this run on high-octane fuel all the time. I don’t mind spurts of busy, but I like to be at home with my husband a lot more.”

  “I agree,” I share.

  She walks us to our waiting car and says, “This is going to work out. It will have a few hard days, but it’ll all be fine.”

  “Thanks, Vanessa. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

  Jim and I make our way back to the heliport, and I ask, “You were very quiet in there. What did you think?”

  “I didn’t have much to say, but I do think we need to play down your dad’s death just in case he’s alive.”

  “Agreed.”

  Chapter twenty-nine

  Quinn

  Today’s my last day here at SHN. Nobody but Mason knows that I’m leaving for good, they just think I’m taking some time off. He’s offered to take me to lunch today. I know he’s hoping to change my mind, but I can’t. My apartment is empty. Everything I own that doesn’t fit into my suitcase is gone or given away, minus the last few boxes, which will be picked up by the Boys and Girls Club.

  My landlord was beyond livid when I gave him notice. I figure he has over a month rent since I gave him essentially six weeks’ notice. He’ll have someone living here within a week, and he’ll come out ahead. Rentals move quickly in The City.

  I’ve wrapped up all of the notes on my open clients here at the office and indicated what may need to be done next. My responsibilities have been dispersed among my team, but I’ve left detailed instructions with Emerson just in case someone wins the lottery and never returns to work. I met today with her and walked her through everything.

  “I’m really sorry to do this to you,” I say.

  “You don’t worry about us, or me for that matter. You worry about your dad. I know I look like I’m going to go any day now,” she rubs her big pregnant belly, “but I’m all good. You go home. Take care of your dad. We’ll be here when you’re ready to come back. Maybe you being away for a little while will get Mason to figure out how much we need you in a partnership role, and maybe William will realize he needs to pee or get off the pot and make your relationship more serious. None of this sneaking around BS.”

  I adore Emerson, but William will move on quickly. If he wants his dad’s company, he’ll need to marry soon. “I am not looking for a serious relationship from William.”

  “Everyone else thinks the two of you look really good together. You should reconsider your position—well, maybe after your dad gets to feeling better.”

  “William has a lot going on right now,” I confide in her.

  “Yes, he does. I don’t know all of the details, but I do know some, and I don’t envy where he’s at. Boy, did his dad leave him with quite the quagmire.”

  I nod enthusiastically. “That he did. And just wait, it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better.” I give her a big hug. As I walk out of her office, my team has come in from all over the Bay Area. They’ve brought my favorite pistachio macarons, and they promise to keep in touch. Emerson insists, “It’ll only be for a couple of months.”

  She doesn’t know that I’m not coming back. As I wrap things up, I write a note to William. My cell phone is a company cell phone, and I told Mason that William was looking for a new phone, and since my phone is newer than his, I’ll leave my phone for him.

  Dear William,

  Thank you for everything. I’ll miss you most of all.

  Quinn

  I attach it to my cell phone and hide it in his top desk drawer so he’ll see it when he returns. I’m trying not to cry, but it’s getting so hard. As I fight back the tears, the phone suddenly rings; I see CeCe is calling.

  “Hey, lady! Would you like to join me at Quince tonight for dinner? I see they have a roast duck on the tasting menu, and it will be highly decadent? My treat?”

  “I wish I could. I’m flying out first thing in the morning, and I have a ton to get done. Thank you so much for your generous offer.”

  “Can I give you a ride to the airport? Please, let me do something. I’m not going to see you for a few months, and you’re going to fall in love and get a tan.”

  I laugh so hard. “First, that’s very sweet of you. I’ve got a ride all set up. Second, I won’t have time to meet anyone. And third, you know I have two shades—white and red. There is no such thing as tan.”

  We’re both giggling at this point. How do I tell her how much she means to me without telling her I don’t plan on coming back? Everyone thinks they’ll just call or email me while I’m gone, but I
won’t be giving them my new phone number. I just think a clean break is best for all of us—particularly me. I’ll miss them so much, but their lives will move on, and they’ll forget me quickly.

  CeCe resigns herself that I’m not going to budge. “We’re going to miss you. Who can I dish the dirt on about Mason and Annabelle?”

  “I think just about everyone here would do that.”

  “Can we come for a visit?”

  “Of course. That sounds fun. Once I get settled, we’ll figure something out.” I hate lying to her, but the truth is, it’s too embarrassing to be moving home to my dad’s because I’m broke. And she could write a check for the debt and go shopping at Cartier for a diamond tiara. No, it’s important for me to have a clean break. Putting the phone back in the drawer, I leave, shutting the lights off, and walk back to my cubicle for the last time.

  No one is quite sure where my dad lives. They think Fort Lauderdale or Miami, but in reality, he lives closer to the Alabama border at the top of the Gulf in Pensacola.

  When people have moved on to their other things, I casually leave. I really am embarrassed that I’m moving home. I’m thirty-one years old. I walk home for the last time. My hands are buried in my pockets. It’s a cool and brisk summer evening, typical San Francisco. I fight back the tears. What did Mark Twain say again? “The coldest summer… no, coldest winter I ever spent was summer in San Francisco.” He sure did coin that correctly.

  When I open my apartment door, I see not much is left. I have a blanket and pillow for my last night, and in the morning, I’ll put it outside for someone who is homeless. I’ll enjoy my last night here in San Francisco, drinking a decent California wine from a paper cup and sleeping on the floor.

  It’s kind of strange being without a cell phone, no television, internet, radio, nothing. I’m totally broken off from the world. At least I still have my Kindle. I open it up and read my book until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. Every time I read these steamy novels, I think of William and all the things that I love doing with him. By far, he’s the one I will miss the most.

  Chapter thirty

  Quinn

  I have an early flight into Atlanta. At least it’s direct. My seat is in the back of the airplane next to the window. As the plane speeds down the runway, the tears fall hard. When the wheels leave the ground, we do one last turn away from San Francisco, and I watch the Bay Bridge become tiny behind me. The lady next to me starts up a conversation and spends the next six hours telling me all about her daughter, her amazing husband, and their new grandchildren. Putting my own issues behind me, I enjoy the pictures and the conversation.

  When we land, I collect my things and head to the rideshare that will take me to a used car dealership. I bought the car last week online. It’s a sensible silver Toyota Camry. My dad should be able to fit in the front seat as I shuttle him from appointment to appointment. It was easier than renting a car to drive off the lot. Before leaving Atlanta, I pick up a pay-as-you-go cell phone and activate it. I need something in case I get lost or stranded.

  It’s rush hour, so I find a diner and order myself a cheeseburger and fries for dinner, and I pull out my Kindle and read for two hours to let the traffic pass. The drive is roughly five hours, and there’s no use in extending the drive if I don’t have to.

  Driving to my dad’s house, I go through the various stages of grief. I deny that the move is going to bother me. That being there for my dad is the real reason I’m moving home. Then I remember the colossal amount of debt I have. Selling all my things didn’t even make one month’s payment in my loans. Mason was kind and paid out my bonus early, so that will give me time to find a job.

  I move to anger. I’m mad that the cost of education is so high in the United States. Sure, I could have transferred to another less expensive school as an undergraduate when my dad got sick, but we thought he’d recover quickly. We had no idea how long it would take for him to get better, and we didn’t think he’d blow through all his savings and investments. And sure, I could have gone to a much less expensive business school, but Stanford is one of the best and comes with a healthy price tag.

  Then bargaining begins. I think, if I can find a good job, I can get my loans paid off in five years and I can always move back to San Francisco, or I can move to another large city like New York or Chicago and start over. Being in Florida and climbing out of debt and being here for my dad is really all that matters.

  Crossing over the Florida state line, the depression hits. It’s hot and humid, and I swear I hear the buzz of a mosquito around my head. I’m driving eighty-five miles an hour and a mosquito flies into my car. They love me. That’s another thing to hate about Florida. There are hurricanes, and their state bird is the mosquito. When I looked, I didn’t see one exciting job. What if I’ve moved for nothing? What if the only job I can find is being a barista at a coffee shop, and then I’ll barely make the interest payments.

  As I enter the town of Pensacola, I realize it isn’t going to be so bad. There is a Marine air station here, so there will be cute pilots to look at. I’ll figure it all out. I don’t have to figure it out tonight, tomorrow, or even next week. Everything will somehow work out.

  The outside light is on. It’s after one and my dad’s waiting up for me. I knock, and he rips the door open. “Quinnie!” He scoops me into a giant hug like I’m a little girl, and I feel so safe being home. Yes, Florida is now home.

  “Daddy, you shouldn’t have waited up for me.”

  “I sleep quite fine in my chair, so who says I waited up for you?” He holds me back and says, “Look at you. You look positively beautiful. Just like your mother.”

  I pull him in for another hug. I don’t ever want to let go. “You look pretty good yourself.” He looks a little older, but he looks pretty healthy, and that makes me feel good. Maggie is all excited that there is a new person in the house. Getting down on one knee, I give her lots of love. “Why, hello there. Aren’t you the sweetest thing? I bet you bring in all the ladies with that lopsided grin and those big brown eyes.”

  “I don’t know about the ladies, but she does bring in the people. She’s just a happy dog. I love that about her. She makes me happy.” He picks up my bag. “What do you have in here? Lead pipes?”

  “Just my clothes.”

  “How long are you staying?”

  “For a while. I’m taking some time away from San Francisco. I put my things in storage, and I thought I’d find a job here locally.”

  “Did you get fired?”

  “No, Dad! San Francisco is just too expensive. I want to own a house one day. I want to be debt free.”

  “All right, we’ll talk about that in the morning.”

  “I don’t want to keep you up, but after a long day of travel, I’m exhausted.”

  “Here’s your room.” He puts my suitcase down and gives me one last hug. “I’m so glad you’re here, no matter how long you plan on staying.”

  I step in, and it is beautifully decorated in shade of dark purple and gray. He’s had help. Maybe there’s hope for his love life after all. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Lying in bed, I can’t believe I’m here in Florida. I can’t believe I had to move home to dig myself out of debt, and I realize the stages of grief have started again. I cry, and I dream of William. I miss him so damn much.

  It will get easier. It must.

  Chapter thirty-one

  William

  I haven’t talked to Quinn in over a week. I finally broke down and asked Mason where she was, and he was evasive. Something’s up. I’ve been getting minor updates from the FBI, so I know they are getting close.

  I just wish Quinn was here to hold my hand. She calms me down when I don’t even know that I’m anxious, and right now I’m very anxious.

  The phone rings and the number’s blocked. I glance at the clock and see it’s after three in the morning. My heart beats a little faster knowing this must be her calling me. “Hey.”

  “Thi
s is Agent McGraw.”

  I sit up straight. “Yes?”

  “We’ve contacted the media. They’ll be meeting us here at our offices in ten minutes, and we’ll make forty-seven arrests in the Philadelphia area and another hundred and eighty-three across the country.”

  My heart stops. How can it be that there are so many despicable people who’d trade the innocence of a young girl for a second of pleasure? The bile in my stomach starts to rise. I think I’m going to be sick. “Thank you, Agent McGraw.”

  “We wouldn’t be here without your dad and you. We’ll talk again.”

  Unfortunately, I know he’s right. I’ll be a star witness in all the various cases. What a mess.

  He hangs up the phone, and I immediately contact my crisis manager. She answers, sounding alert. “Liz, they’ll begin making arrests within the hour. They’ve contacted the media, and it will begin to go out shortly.”

  “I’m on it. We’ll have a message out to your shareholders the second it hits the wires. Most likely we’ll start a round of interviews with you with some of the morning shows. When can you be here?”

  “I’ll make it to you within three hours.” We’ve put a smooth plan in place. I call Jim and his team and let them know we need to get moving. Then I call Vanessa, who will meet me at the heliport and will be with me all day.

  I lie back in my bed and stare at the ceiling. My stomach hurts, and my heart beats triple time. That means our stock is going to take a tumble. This is it. I’m convinced these are the motherfuckers who killed my father, and I’m grateful they are going to pay.

  I meet Jim downstairs twenty minutes later. “Let the fun begin.”

  I’m exhausted by the time I fall into bed at the Ritz-Carlton later that night. I did four morning shows, had a call with the stockholders, we did a press junket with print media, and I didn’t have one minute to myself in over thirty hours. Vanessa and Accurate Communications ensure that my father was the hero and that I, too, was a hero. Putting the young girls above the company meant more and stock prices be damned. We actually closed three dollars a share higher.