A Brush with a Billionaire

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A Brush with a Billionaire Page 11

by Lorana Hoopes


  “Wait, I’m sorry,” Brent interrupted. “Did you say three more movies?”

  “Is that a problem?” the president asked. One eyebrow arched higher than the other on his face as he leaned even closer to the camera, filling up even more of the screen in front of Brent. Beside him, Julia shot him a glare which Brent ignored.

  “Well, it might be. Look, I appreciate the opportunity you gave me with Night Ranger, and I have certainly appreciated the money, but I’ve been wanting to do something different for a while now. This last weekend, I began writing a script. I don’t know if it will turn into anything, but I’d like to take some time off to finish it.”

  “I’m sorry.” Julia jumped in. “Brent was involved in an automobile accident a few days ago, and I’m afraid he may not be thinking straight.”

  “I’m thinking fine.” Brent suddenly wondered if he even wanted to keep acting. He was tired of people pushing him to take rolls he didn’t want just for the money. He hadn’t realized how unhappy he’d been until Sam had shown him how happy he could be. And the return to a small town and reminded him of the simple things he missed. Things like people knowing your name because they knew you and not just because they saw you on a movie screen. “I’m just asking for a break. Maybe I’ll feel like doing more Night Rangers in the future, but I just don’t have it in me right now.”

  “I see. Well, I can put a hold on the movie for a few months, but if you are still unsure by the end of summer, we will have to find a new Derek McCloud.”

  “Absolutely, sir. I understand.”

  “Best of luck then, and be sure to let me know what you decide.” With that the image clicked out and the screen went blank.

  “What are you doing?” Julia hissed at him.

  “Julia, I told you I was getting tired of Night Ranger. I want something that will stretch me and make me a better actor. So, find me something like that or it might be time for me to retire.”

  “It’s this girl, isn’t it?” Julia asked. “She’s bewitched you.”

  Brent chuckled. “I don’t know if I’d go so far as bewitched, but captivated me? Absolutely. I haven’t been this happy since Rachel died, and I thought you’d be happy for me.”

  “I am, but Brent, Night Ranger made you who you are.”

  “Well, it’s time I reinvent myself. Now, I’m taking Sam out on the town. Let me know when you have a real role for me.” Brent felt a little bad leaving Julia staring after him with her mouth open, but he was finally ready to move on to something better. And if something better didn’t present itself then he had a story of his own to finish.

  Sam cringed when the knock sounded at the door. She couldn’t handle one more person asking for her autograph or the story of her and Brent, but as she peeked through the spyhole - she had learned to start doing that after the third story seeker - her mood lifted. It was Brent, and she’d never been so happy to see someone in her life.

  She flung open the door and rushed into his arms.

  “Well, not quite the reaction I expected, but definitely one I enjoy.” Brent circled his arms around her.

  She pulled him in and shut the door. “It’s been crazy today. The waitress who brought my breakfast recognized me from our picture in the paper.”

  “What picture?” he asked.

  Sam chuckled. So, he’d had no idea either. “I’ll get to that. Anyway, the waitress must have told everyone she knew because I’ve had a steady stream of people knocking on the door asking for my autograph or the story of how we met or what it’s like to date a billionaire. One of them actually brought the paper with our picture in, which I kept before ushering her out.” Sam walked over to the table and picked up the newspaper. “Evidently we made the style section.”

  Brent’s eyes widened as he took in the picture of them kissing at Norma’s. “Sam, I’m so sorry. I had no idea Julia would send this out to be published.”

  “It’s okay. It comes with the territory, right?” Sam wanted him to say no, that this was unusual, that his girlfriends weren’t routinely hounded by photographers, but she knew that wasn’t the case. Just as she knew that she had been fooling herself. She wasn’t cut out for his life. She didn’t want to be in newspapers or on TV. She just wanted a simple life in a small town.

  “Yeah, it does. Still, I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “Brent, I think we made a mistake. I’m not a spotlight kind of girl. I don’t want my picture taken every time I go outside. I just want to go home.”

  “Then I’ll give it up.”

  Sam shook her head. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

  He took her hands, and his stare was honest and frank as he gazed into her eyes. “You aren’t. I’m offering.”

  “And that’s sweet, but I can’t let you do that either. Look, Brent, it was great in Soda Spurs, but that’s not who you are. This,” she motioned to the grand room, “this is who you are. Besides, it’s only been a week. I can’t let you give everything up for me when we don’t even know if we’d last.”

  His shoulders sank and defeat covered his face. “Are you sure? I can fly back and forth.”

  “But I’d still be in your limelight. And reporters would still be hounding me. One came to the shop Monday after you’d left town. There would be more if we were dating. I know some women would kill for that attention, but it’s not for me.”

  Brent nodded though he didn’t look convinced. “Okay, if that’s what you want, then I’ll take you home.”

  “It is.” But even as the words left her lips, Sam knew she would regret them.

  Chapter 18

  “Brent? Did you hear what I said?” Julia asked.

  “What?” He looked up from the script he had been reading over. It wasn’t awful, but it still didn’t have the depth he was looking for.

  She sighed clearly agitated she was having to repeat herself. “Twentieth Century Fox called and they want you to audition for a role in the next X-men movie.”

  Brent shook his head. “No, I told you no more action movies.”

  Julia raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you still doing here, Brent? It is clear your head and your heart are somewhere else. You’ve done nothing but mope and turn down every script I’ve gotten for you.”

  “It’s just…” Brent shrugged. “Nothing feels right.”

  “Nothing feels right because you don’t have Sam. I didn’t think it was possible since you’d only known the woman a week, but it is obvious you’re in love with her.”

  Brent’s head dropped onto his palm. “I know, but what am I going to do about it? She told me it wouldn’t work out, that she didn’t want me to return with her.”

  “She told you that because she didn’t want you to regret giving up fame and fortune for her, but I don’t think this life appeals to you any longer. Have you even continued writing your story?”

  “No, not since Sam left.”

  “Then that’s what you need to do. Step out of the limelight. Go back to Sulphur Springs or wherever it is Sam lives. Win her back and finish your story. I never thought I’d say this, but I think it what’s you need to do.”

  Brent’s head popped up and for the first time in a week, hope flooded his veins. “Do you think that will work? What if she won’t take me back?”

  Julia rolled her eyes. “Do some grand gesture she can’t refuse. You have the money, and she’s probably just as miserable as you are anyway.”

  Grand gesture. Yes, he could do that. He just needed to figure out what the perfect grand gesture would be. “Thanks, Julia.” He pushed back the chair and crossed the room to place a kiss on her cheek. “You’ve been amazing.”

  A blush colored her cheeks and she shook her head. “Just invite me to the wedding.”

  “I will.”

  Sam stared at the picture of Brent on the TV and sighed. What had she been thinking breaking it off? She had been nothing but miserable the last week, spending her evenings binge watching the Night Ranger movies. T
he only good thing that had happened was that her short stint of fame had brought new customers to the shop. If it kept up, she’d have enough money to cover rent for the next few months, but what good was that if she was miserable?

  A knock sounded at her door and Sam put the tub of ice cream she had been eating from on the table beside her before crossing to the door. No need to broadcast her depression to whoever was on the other side.

  She opened the door and blinked in surprise. Fanny stood in the doorway. Sam had never seen her anywhere other than her own front porch. “Hi, Fanny, what can I do for you?”

  “Nothing.” The old woman pushed past Sam and into the house. “It’s what I can do for you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sam asked. Though she hadn’t invited the woman in, she shut the door and turned to her guest.

  “You’ve been moping around for the last week. Norma says you aren’t eating much either.” She looked around the room which Sam hadn’t bothered to pick up. Her tongue clicked as her eyes landed on the ice cream container. “And ice cream doesn’t count.”

  Embarrassed, Sam grabbed the container and shoved the lid back on. Then she walked into the kitchen and placed it back in the freezer. She jumped in surprise when she turned around and Fanny was right behind her. The woman was stealthy.

  “I waited to see if you would come to your senses, but since it appears you aren’t, I’m here to help you out.”

  “Come to my senses about what?” Sam asked.

  “About Brent, you silly woman. I’m not sure what you were thinking breaking it off, but it’s clear you care about him. Now, I lost my poor Frank ten years ago and not a day goes by that I don’t miss him. I’m not going to let the two of you waste precious time when it’s clear you belong together.” Her finger poked Sam’s chest as she punctuated the last three words.

  Sam sighed. “What am I supposed to do, Fanny? I broke it off with him. He’s probably moved on by now anyway.”

  “You really are stubborn, aren’t you? That man clearly loves you. Did you not see what he did to Norma’s diner?”

  “Yes, but that was before.” Why was she protesting so much? She knew in her heart Brent hadn’t moved on. No man made a huge gesture like that if he didn’t care at least a little.

  “And this is now. So, here’s what you do. You are going to pack and drive to Houston and tell him you were wrong. Paul can cover the shop for a few days, and I’ll check on the house.”

  “Fanny, I can’t just pack up and leave,” Sam protested.

  “Yes, you can, and I’m here to help.”

  Indecision filled Sam. She did want to see Brent again, but would he want to see her? If he did, wouldn’t he have called? However, she had been the one to break it off, so maybe he was just honoring her wishes. An impulsive desire to follow Fanny’s advice filled her. “Okay. Let’s pack.”

  They had just finished packing her suitcase when a knock sounded at the door. Sam glanced up at the older woman. “Are we expecting someone else?”

  Fanny’s white hair bounced slightly as she shook her head. “Don’t look at me. I did my part.”

  Sam rolled her eyes and walked the short hallway to the front door. For the second time that evening, she pulled it open and blinked in surprise. “Brent?”

  “I know you said it wouldn’t work, but Sam, I don’t want to stay there without you.”

  Fanny entered the living room then pulling Sam’s suitcase behind her.

  Brent’s eyes flitted to the suitcase and back to Sam. “Are you going somewhere?”

  Sam smiled for the first time in a week. “Yeah, to see you. To tell you I was wrong.”

  Fanny brushed her hands together in a dusting off motion. “Well, I guess my work here is done. It’s good to see you again, Mr. McKasson. I expect I’ll be seeing more of the two of you together.”

  “What was that about?” Brent asked as he watched Fanny walk down the steps.

  “Just good friends watching out for each other. Now, come here. We have some lost time to make up for.” She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him into the house. As the door clicked shut behind him, she leaned up and met his lips with her own.

  Chapter 19

  Sam stared at the bill and sighed. Everything had been going so well the last month: Brent had found a rental house to live in until his house was built, business had been steady the first week or so he had been back in town, and of course dating a billionaire came with its own set of benefits. Just yesterday he had rented a helicopter and flown them out to Corpus Christi for the day. She had been too tired to open the mail when they’d gotten home last night, so she’d attacked it this morning and now she wished she hadn’t.

  A knock sounded at the door. Brent. They were planning to have a late breakfast together, and she wasn’t even dressed yet. Sam dropped the bill and hurried to the front door to let him in.

  “Good late morning.” His eyebrow arched on his forehead. “Is this a new fashion statement?”

  Sam swatted his arm. “Come in. I overslept this morning thanks to our late night last night, and then I got caught up catching up on mail. I just need a few minutes.”

  As Brent wandered to the kitchen, probably for some coffee, Sam scurried into the bedroom. She had just enough time for a quick shower if she hurried, so she turned on the water and then peeled off her clothes.

  Fifteen minutes later, Sam re-entered the kitchen, clean and wearing a pink sundress.

  “Sam? What is this?” Brent asked, holding up the letter.

  Sam sighed. “The landlord is raising my rent at the shop.”

  Brent shook his head. “Sam, this is double what you were paying. He can’t raise it like that.”

  “It’s nothing. I’ll take care of it.” Sam swiped the letter from his fingers.

  “Sam, I can help. I’ll talk to him.”

  “No, I’ll do it.”

  “Why won’t you let me help you?” Exasperation colored Brent’s voice.

  “Because you aren’t trying to help. You’re trying to take over.”

  Brent’s eyes closed, and he took a deep breath. “Sam, I’m a billionaire. I know that sounds abstract. It does even to me sometimes, but what it means is that I have the money to help you. I have so much money I wouldn’t miss the amount to buy your shop and get you some advertising. Imagine what you could do if you got some more clients. Remember how nice it was to be busy?”

  Sam did remember. It had been great for a week or two when she and Brent were hot news, but since he had stepped out of the limelight, the press had found other people to follow and they had been forgotten. “Yes, I remember, and I know how much a billion is, Brent. I just… I need to do this on my own. I can’t have some man taking care of me.”

  Brent flinched as if the words had hit him like a punch. “Is that what I am to you? Just some man?”

  Sam bit her lip. Those weren’t exactly the words she meant, but they had only been dating for a little over a month. She loved him, but she was still scared to rely solely on him. What if she took his money and then they broke up? She would feel like she owed him, and she didn’t want to feel indebted to anyone. Not after Greg.

  “I thought we were more than that, Sam. I gave up acting for you. I moved here for you. Here.” He waved his arm around the room. “Soda Springs. For you.”

  “I didn’t ask you to give up acting or to move here,” Sam shot back. “I’m not like your other girlfriends, Brent. You can’t just buy my affection.” Sam knew she should stop, but she couldn’t keep the words from falling out of her mouth.

  “I wasn’t trying to buy you off.” A sadness filled Brent’s voice and tugged on Sam’s heart. “I took you out yesterday because I wanted to share an amazing day with you, and I’m offering to help you now because I can. And because you are a great mechanic. And because you’ve been working too hard.”

  Sam crossed her arms and leaned away from him. “I don’t want your help. I was fine before you waltzed into t
own. I opened this shop by myself and I’ll take care of this by myself.”

  Brent shrugged and rose from the chair. “If that’s the way you feel, Sam, then I’ll get out of your hair.”

  They stared at each other. Sam didn’t mean the words and she didn’t think Brent did either, but neither one of them seemed willing to apologize first.

  “You should go,” she said, pointing to the door. “I’ve got work to do.”

  Brent opened his mouth as if he were going to speak, but Sam folded her arms across her chest and put on her stoic face.

  With a sigh, Brent nodded and left her house. Sam fell into the chair and dropped her head into her hands. Why couldn’t she just accept help? Why did she always have to push people away?

  Brent left Sam’s place unsure exactly where he was going, but knowing he needed to find someone to talk to. He didn’t think Sam had meant the words any more than he had, but they were both stubborn and they needed time to cool off. This was the first time they had really argued, and of course it had to be over money.

  When he’d first moved to Soda Spurs, Sam had objected the first few dates they’d gone on when he picked up the tab. She had wanted to alternate who paid the check, but there was no way he was doing that. He understood money was tighter for her. It had taken some finagling, but he had finally convinced her that since they were dating, he should be allowed to pick up the check. He loved that she was independent, but he hated it at the same time.

  This was bigger though. Brent knew the money from Sam’s mother’s death had bought most of the equipment, but she’d had to lease the rest, along with the building. She had told him she was barely paying the bills, and now with the increase, the amount was more than Sam was bringing in. Soda Spurs was a small town, and most people walked. There just wasn’t enough business for her.

  He had more than enough money to buy her shop outright, and he wanted Sam back. Playful Sam who played music trivia with him. Loving Sam who rubbed his shoulders when they were sore from writing. And faithful Sam who prayed with him each night and accompanied him to church on Sunday. She was all these things and more, and he wanted her back.

 

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