Billionaires in New York Boxed Set: Billionaires in the City Books 1-3

by Laura Burton

  “Do you like music?” Edward blurted out, as they returned to the entrance. Catherine’s dark brows shot up as she looked back at him with amusement. Then Edward broke out into nervous laughter.

  “Right. You’re a singer. Of course, you like music,” he said, mostly to himself. He tapped his forehead and sighed. “My friend Sam, he is performing tomorrow night at his club. I’d love to take you,” he said. A bubble of anxiety rose in his chest as he anticipated her reply. Catherine looked furtively across the room and chewed her bottom lip. He wondered what it would feel like to caress that lip with his thumb.

  “I don’t know,” she began shyly. Edward took both of her hands.

  “I’ll send you the details and you can have a think about it. No pressure,” he said. He tried to sound casual but squeezed her hands a little too tightly to be convincing. Catherine kissed his cheek before she turned to leave.

  “I’ll think about it. Thank you for this,” she held up her phone. “And for the flowers. I enjoyed spending time with you today.” She made to leave, and Edward’s heart sank. He automatically grabbed her arm and her eyes darted to him with alarm.

  “Sorry,” he said quickly as he loosened his grip. “I really enjoyed spending time with you too,” he said lamely, letting go.

  Smooth, Edward. You sound like a loser.

  Catherine’s lashes fluttered. Small lines creased next to her eyes and her gorgeous lips curved upwards.

  “Bye Edward.”

  And then she left. Leaving him alone at the glass doors.

  Edward watched her disappear down the street. He had a smile planted on his face and his stomach tightened. Then something caught his eye, a dark figure to his left. His eyes flitted to it and his throat constricted. The bright red hair looked like flames atop the narrow head and Edward’s hands balled into fists as he watched the man lick his lips, staring in the direction Catherine had walked.

  “You,” he said curtly after he pushed through the door. The red-haired man’s dark eyes glinted at him.

  “We need to talk.”

  Edward sat across from Calvin in the busy coffee shop, holding his drink so tightly his hands were starting to sweat. Calvin had remained cool and even mannered as he reclined in the back of his chair, one skinny leg crossed over the other. His beady eyes stayed on Edward. Like a cat toying with its prey.

  “Are you following Catherine?” Edward asked bluntly, getting straight to the point. From the moment he saw him outside the art gallery he was ready to pummel the creep into the sidewalk, he didn’t care what anyone thought. But Calvin suggested taking their conversation somewhere private. The coffee shop was hardly quiet. Edward imagined jumping up from his chair and flipping the table, hot drinks splashing over the bystanders as he threw punches into Calvin’s scrawny frame. That would still cause quite a scene. But at least their conversation would not be easily overheard. It took all of Edward’s restraint not to play out the scenarios in his head. His kind-natured brother, David appeared across his minds’ eye, like an angel on his shoulder.

  “Hear him out, maybe this is all just a big mis-understanding. Then you’ll feel like a jerk, won’t you?”

  Edward lowered his drink and dragged his sweaty palms across his jeans. Calvin did not answer his question, he merely took a long sip of his drink and blinked slowly.

  “Well?” Edward pressed him. Calvin’s nostrils flared as he took a breath.

  “Who do you think you are? Talking to me like this?” he asked in an eerily calm voice. “I was merely on my way to meet a friend.”

  “A likely tale,” Edward said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Calvin inclined his head and dabbed his thin lips with a napkin.

  “Tell me about you.” He laced his fingers and rested his elbows delicately on the table, his chin sitting carefully in his hands. “What are your intentions with my girlfriend?”

  “Ex-girlfriend,” Edward corrected through gritted teeth. There was nothing he wanted more than to wipe that smug smile off Calvin’s face. He reckoned he could knock him off his chair with just one swing.

  “You do know it’s only been five weeks since our little… break.”

  “Is that what you’re calling it?” Edward asked, folding his arms. Great, he thought, an ex-boyfriend in denial was not what he needed.

  “Oh please. Catherine was overwhelmed with the upcoming tour. She just needed a little space, is all. Now she’s home, she’ll be crawling back to me.”

  Edward dug his nails into the palms of his hands as he clamped his jaw shut.

  “Catherine does not crawl. Not to you. Not to anyone.”

  Calvin’s lips grew wide as they arched up towards his ears, taking over his whole face. Edward knew he was playing with him. Pushing his buttons to get him to retaliate. That would be perfect, to get him to lash out in public, with all these witnesses. So that he could spin a story that Edward was somehow the dangerous lunatic who needed to be protected from. Edward could see right through this man. Problem was, his anger was reaching boiling point and he really wanted to act on it.

  “You are to stop seeing Catherine Fisher. You have no business talking to her. She’s mine. Do you understand?” Calvin explained in a condescending manner.

  “Oh, and what are you going to do about it?” Edward asked, daring Calvin to make a move. He was primed and ready for confrontation. The hairs on his arms were raised and the air seemed to sizzle against his burning skin.

  Calvin leaned across the table and looked Edward hard in the eye. His dark irises bore into him.

  “If you do not leave her alone, consequences will be inevitable.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “You know what it means.”

  Calvin rose to his feet, brushed off his pant legs and marched out of the coffee shop with a pleasant smile across his face. A seething Edward was left to stew over their conversation alone. He pulled his phone of out his pocket with a shaking hand and put it to his ear.

  “Sam, it’s me. We have a problem.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Nothing Can Go Wrong

  “Louis, I’ve been thinking about your offer, and I’ve decided I would love to work for you full-time.” Catherine beamed at herself in the mirror of her bathroom as she listened to Louis’ happy exclamations on the other end of the phone.

  Her heart had been skipping as she made her way home from the art gallery. She was in a blissfully joyful mood. She smiled at strangers. Stroked the neighbor’s cat. She even said, ‘good evening’ to her grumpy landlord as he took out the trash.

  Life was good. With Edward around, who needed to worry about jealous ex-boyfriends? And the video he made for Johnny melted all of her worries. She was certain her family would love Edward, and he seemed to tick all of the boxes. Funny, sweet, genuine and completely down-to-earth. Not to mention, drop dead gorgeous. Catherine hung up the phone, threw it on the bed, twirled on the spot and squealed to herself.

  It was settled. She would stay in New York, sign up to a show at Lincoln Center, keep seeing Edward and maybe one day, she’d take him home to her family and introduce him as her fiancé. The thought made her giddy.

  Catherine pulled a clasp out of her hair and allowed it to fall in thick waves to her shoulders. Then she collapsed onto her double bed with a contented sigh.

  “Nothing can go wrong,” she said breathlessly.

  The doorbell rang.

  Catherine was floating as she grinned ear to ear walking to the front door.

  “Hello Cathy.”

  Catherine gasped as she found herself pulled into a tight hug. Johnny’s friendly smile flooded her view as they broke apart. She closed her door and beamed at him.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, delighted. Johnny rarely turned up on her doorstep, alone.

  “I took the subway,” he said simply as he looked around.

  “I like this picture. Is it new?” he looked up at a painting on the wall. It was of a British seaside town.
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br />   “Yes, it was a gift while I was on tour.”

  Johnny asked Catherine endless questions about who gave her the gift, and where it was made. Could she take him next time? He followed her into the small kitchen as they talked, and Catherine prepared hot chocolate for them both.

  “Did you get a picture of Edward?” Johnny asked as she passed him his drink. The question sparked a memory of Edward’s cheek grazing hers and the waft of musky cologne washing over her as he recorded a video. She grabbed her purse and pulled out her phone. Johnny clapped with excitement and walked over to her; his head stooped low, eyeing her phone.

  “Here you go,” she said, as she pressed play on the video. Catherine couldn’t help but grin as she watched Edward speaking to the camera, standing so closely to her. Then she cringed at the awkward way she just stood there, frozen and unable to speak. Johnny placed a warm hand on her shoulder and tilted his head as he surveyed her face closely.

  “He’s a really nice man,” he said. “He should be your boyfriend.”

  “You got that, from a thirty-second video?” Catherine put her phone away and walked back to the counter to retrieve her drink. Johnny followed, wagging a finger.

  “He’s nice. I can feel it.”

  Catherine sighed.

  “You think everyone is nice, Johnny. We have to be careful this time.”

  Johnny opened his mouth to speak but a rat-a-tat-tat on the front door had him close it again. Catherine put her drink down and walked across the living room area to reach the door.

  “Who is it Cathy? Is it Edward?” Johnny asked. Catherine hummed as she peered through the spy hole. All she could see was the street bustling with cars and pedestrians walking by.

  “No one’s there,” she said surprised.

  “Maybe they left you something,” Johnny suggested. Catherine unbolted the door and pulled it open. It was true, there was no one standing on her steps, nor were they hiding in one of the laurel bushes to the side. She peered left and right to catch a glimpse of a person running away. But she saw no one. Then, her eyes lowered to her feet and her breath caught in her chest.

  “What is it?”

  Catherine stood frozen as Johnny swaggered to her side, his heavy breathing grew louder as he passed by and knelt down. When he stood, he turned and held out a single rose to her.

  “I’ve never seen a black rose before,” he said mildly. As if there was nothing disturbing about the unexpected gift. But Catherine was not looking at the color of its petals. Her eyes were staring at the small tag, fixed to the thorny stem. She pulled the tag and studied the calligraphy writing on it.

  Be home. Tonight. 11pm. Calvin.

  Johnny had to leave for a job interview, much to Catherine’s relief. He did not see anything strange or sinister about the rose and she did not want to raise concern. Catherine needed time alone to sit and think. After they said their goodbyes, she sat on the edge of her bed with her head in her hands and groaned.

  He’s not going to give me up.

  If there was a time Catherine wished magic was real, when she could wave a wand and make all ex-boyfriends disappear, it was now. She wondered why he wouldn’t leave her alone. And why send a creepy message to say he was going to drop by that evening? Most normal people would pick up the phone or send an email. Of course, he couldn’t do that because she had blocked his number and social media profiles.

  I ended things too abruptly.

  When Calvin showed his aggressive side, she simply cut him off and told him it was over. Then she went on tour and thought that by the time she returned home, he would have gotten the hint.

  Not only was he now showing up wherever she went, he was also coming to her apartment and leaving weird gifts. His words echoed across her mind.

  “You still have something of mine.”

  Catherine searched her apartment for anything that looked like it belonged to Calvin. A watch. Keys. Hoodie. He never stayed over, they hadn’t taken their relationship to the next level so it couldn’t have been a toothbrush or family heirloom. She struggled to work out what he could have left behind and her fruitless attempts to find something left her collapsed in a tired heap on the couch with books and clutter scattered around her.

  The phone vibrated on the carpet and she moaned into the scratchy cushion.

  “Go away.”

  As if to obey her command, the phone promptly stopped. Catherine lifted her head and padded her hand on the floor to grab it. Her fingers curled around the phone and with a heavy sigh she sat up and looked at the screen. She pressed a button to return the call and studied her fingernails as the phone rang.

  “Anthony, sorry I missed your call. I was…” she glanced around her messy apartment. “Cleaning up. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, fine.” Anthony sounded a little too breathless to sound convincing. “Listen, remember the friends I introduced you to the other night?”

  Catherine’s stomach lurched.

  “Yes,” she replied hesitantly. “What about them?”

  Anthony cleared his throat.

  “Sam owns a club, you see. And I know you’ve been looking for work. I was thinking, I could put in a word and––”

  “Oh no,” Catherine cut in sharply. “Ant, I’m an opera singer. I don’t––”

  “Now, hold on. Don’t write it off just yet. This club is not like normal clubs. It’s––you know––fancy.”

  “Fancy?” Catherine repeated. “I’ve never heard you use that word to describe anything before.”

  “I’ve already spoken to him and set something up. You’re not busy tonight, right?”

  “You what?” Catherine exploded, jumping to her feet. This was just like Anthony, to stick his nose in where it didn’t belong.

  “Come on, it would be good for you to be a little more open-minded. It’s about time you try something new.”

  Catherine threw her hand in the air with a dark laugh.

  “Funny you should say that,” she began, pacing the room. “I have been trying something––or someone––new.”

  There was a silence that followed. Catherine imagined Anthony’s dark eyes flitting around with his brows furrowed as he considered the meaning behind her words.

  “I didn’t want to know that,” he said frankly.

  “I’ve taken a full-time job at Lincoln Center. And I’m seeing someone new, is what I meant.” She bit her lip. It had only been a few days, but saying it aloud made it sound so much more serious that it was.

  “Lincoln Center…” Anthony hummed. “Good for you. Well, come and see Sam tonight anyway, he’s expecting you. As for this fella you’re seeing, anyone I know?”

  Catherine chewed her lip for a moment, then exhaled.

  “His name is Edward, you know––”

  “What! I’m going to kill him.”

  Catherine opened her mouth to reply but the phone fell silent. She stared at it in stunned silence, her ears ringing. That was the last reaction she expected from Anthony. Now she knew she had no choice but go to Sam’s club, before Anthony got his hands on Edward.

  Chapter Twelve

  Things Just Got Complicated

  “It’s become complicated, Sam.” Edward dragged his hand through his hair and slumped his shoulders in defeat. Sam was on his back as he lifted weights with heavy puffs of air and groaned as he lowered the bar to its stand.

  “Talk to me,” he said, sitting up and taking his flask.

  “I’ve already blown the budget – which was stupid and unrealistic by the way – and I can’t lie to Catherine. She’s also got more baggage than I think I can deal with.”

  Sam snorted.

  “You blew the budget? You’re only four days in.”

  Edward nodded towards a carefully wrapped package in the corner of the room. Sam rolled his eyes.

  “I see,” he said before taking a swig.

  “I met with her ex––”

  A spray of water drenched Edward as Sam spat out his drink.<
br />
  “You – did – what?” he said dramatically as Edward scrunched his face and wiped his eyes. “I told you not to get involved. But you can’t help yourself, can you? Eddie, you are a lost cause.”

  Edward shrugged.

  “I wanted to punch his lights out,” he said, his fist clenching automatically at the memory. “He’s a lousy, good-for-nothing, low-life.”

  “Why did you meet him?”

  “Sam, he’s been following her. She’s afraid of him and I wanted to––”

  “Put the fear of God in him?” Sam cocked a brow at him and gave Edward a wry smile.

  “Something like that.”

  “So, what happened?”

  Edward recounted his conversation with Calvin as Sam did bicep curls on the bench. He nodded along in thought and grunted as Edward finished.

  “That’s it now. Right? You’re going to leave her alone.”

  Edward scoffed and got to his feet. His private gym had already been cluttered with Sam’s belongings. Socks littered the floor, empty bottles sat like trophies beside the equipment and a pile of workout clothes sat wrinkled on his exercise bike.

  “Look, about this deal,” he began frankly. Sam wagged a finger at him.

  “We shook on it. A gentleman’s agreement. Don’t try to weasel your way out of this one,” he said, his eyes gleaming. Edward sighed.

  “Fine, keep the penthouse. I’ll buy a new one. But for goodness sake, get a maid, will you?”

  “Great minds have messy houses,” Sam said wisely. Edward scratched the back of his neck. The sight of all the clutter in his penthouse suite made him anxious.

  “The deal is off, but I don’t want her to know who I am.” He gave Sam a hard look. “So, keep your mouth shut.”

  Sam gave a salute and looked at him with amusement.

  “You’re still worried she’ll only love you for money? This is Anthony’s cousin we’re talking about.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Edward strode over to the window and rested his hands on his hips.