The Billionaire's Heart (Secret Billionaire's Club Book 1)

by Tracey Pedersen

  I knew one day she’d meet someone in her personal life, but I was selfish at work and hung onto her. I didn’t consider that she might leave me. I thought I’d have to endure seeing her laughing with someone else at company barbecues, holding his hand while I stewed in the corner. I planned to pine for her at the Christmas party each December. Hell, I did that last year when she brought along that Heath guy. I was jealous as fuck, but not once did it occur to me she might not be here to pine for.

  I can’t remember the last person who resigned from Mass Media. We have a waiting list of candidates willing to settle for any role they can get to soak up the experience we offer. Our name on a resume can open doors for the future, and it occurs to me that Kendra knows that.

  She doesn’t say anything which I take to mean she’s made up her mind and won’t be convinced to stay. I blink and gulp my wine. She doesn’t drop her eyes. Kendra Snow isn’t intimidated by me, even in this moment when she’s upsetting my carefully laid out vision of the future. She’s always been courageous, even standing up to my mother on the rare occasion she’s visited the office and caused a fuss.

  The recent memory of Kendra blocking the doorway to my office as my mother loudly berates her springs to mind, and a tiny kernel of an idea springs to life.

  Maybe all is not lost since tonight is meant to be all about romance.

  The couples around us are testament to that. Maybe there’s a chance to salvage something, even if it serves only to assuage my lust. At the very least I can get her out of my system and report to Danny that I gave this dating game my best shot.

  “Back to my first question, then. Would you like dinner?”

  “I didn’t eat yet, but I can’t stay.” I hear her words, but I want to believe her eyes are saying something else. There’s a suspicious glisten to them. If she’s on the verge of tears there could be a simple reason, like the stress of resigning. I want to believe it’s something else, though, and I resolve to test my theory. I don’t even have to take the first step because she shows her cards a moment later when she says, “Imagine if your date shows up in the middle of the starter. You’ve already attracted the attention of half the restaurant. You don’t need two women vying for one seat at dinner.” She glances around, then her eyes settle on me. Her tone is bleak when she murmurs, “I would hate to have to be the one to leave.”

  She’s not saying no because she doesn’t want to stay. She’s saying no because she doesn’t want to be embarrassed, or to embarrass me. Even as she’s turning my business life upside down, she’s still thinking of me.

  The clarity of my situation washes over me. This is my only chance with her. I haven’t been on a date in six months and she needs to know why.

  All at once the circumstances that brought me to this restaurant rush into my head.

  NEW YEAR’S EVE, six weeks prior…

  My unlikely best friend Danny shoves his hand into the bag and grins at each of us.

  I can't believe he's making us do this. If anyone should be against marriage, it’s him. His rock god of a father is on his fourth union, and Danny has probably lost track of how many siblings he has by now. Still, he pulls out a folded piece of paper with a look on his face that says he's never had so much fun.

  “Here we go,” he laughs. “Who’s writing this down?” He looks around the space intent on finding a victim to join his game. “Sam! You like spreadsheets. How about you make the list?”

  “I'm not even sure this is a good idea.” Despite his words, Sam pulls out his phone and makes a big show of peering at the screen to start his task. “Which means it’s an even worse idea to put it in writing.”

  “Sam is right,” I hear myself say. “We do all this hard work, deprive ourselves of some pretty sweet experiences to keep our wealth private, and now you want to make a game of our dating lives? It’s a terrible idea.”

  Merek and Cross, who can be relied upon to always have my back, nod their heads in agreement, before Everett, our resident battle strategist says, “I’m not fucking getting married. Ever.”

  “Oh, come on, Everett.” Danny laughs and pulls out another paper from the bag. “You have the most to gain from marriage of any of us. I’d marry the elderly tea lady at my dad’s record company if it meant a ten-figure sum landing in my bank account.” He grins, but Everett is unamused, his boot slapping on the floor of the rooftop where we’re having our private party. The table he was tempted to kick survives unscathed. Danny makes a face and reads the name on the paper. “So, Sam.” He nods at Sam to start typing. “First name was Sayer. Second name is,” he tips his head, “Everett. You’re welcome.”

  “Oh, piss off,” Everett explodes out of his chair, his face turning red, his glare piercing a nonchalant Danny. “Why is my name even in there? I told you no.”

  “One for all, and all for one. There might be nine of us, but we’re sworn musketeers in the secret billionaire club.” Danny’s tone is lilting, his grin stretched wide.

  “God, you’re infantile. Stop calling us that.” Everett crosses the open space and, with the slam of the fire door, none of us is in any doubt what he thinks of this game. I consider following him down off the roof, but I’ve known him long enough to give him time to cool down.

  “You can’t blame Ev,” Cole says. “We’re intent on staying out of the limelight. His best chance of doing that is to remain single.”

  “He’s military. If anyone needs a woman, it’s him.”

  “There’s no shortage of willing ladies when you’re in uniform,” Merek says. Each of us nods, as though we have any experience outside what little Everett has shared about his life in the army.

  Cole, the only one among us to have earned a public award, and who threatened our anonymity in his Oscar acceptance speech, shrugs and sits in the seat Everett vacated. “Keep pulling the names out Danny. If you’re insisting we each have to have a date by a certain holiday, and make a proper effort, then I need to plan for mine. I have so many damn offers, I could cover for every single one of you losers.”

  Chapter Five - Kendra

  “You’re right.”

  Sayer is out of his chair and pulling me from mine before I can say another word. I grab the folder from the table before he takes my hand—my hand, my God, why is he holding my hand? He throws a wad of notes at the maître ‘d, who manages to hide his scowl as soon as it appears. A few moments later we burst into the cool foyer of a hotel and he pulls me toward the valet.

  “What are you doing? Where are we—?”

  “You said you didn’t want it to be awkward, so I fixed it. If she shows up, she can buy her own meal.” He looks down at our hands and squeezes tighter, laughing to himself. “Who knew Valentine’s Day could end so well?”

  “What does that mean?” I’m exasperated and excited. Hesitant, but eager to know what he has in mind. I know I should pull my hand away and tell him I’m going home. That I have obligations, and places to be. That I have to wash my hair, perhaps.

  It’s my turn to laugh as I imagine the look on his face were I to use that lame excuse. He’d frown. His lips would compress, and he’d tilt his head in that way he has that always makes my heart flutter. Three years ago, I had no idea that look would grow to have such an effect on me. I didn’t know him the way I do now. I saw only a powerful man who mixed in circles I admired in the social pages of the glossy magazines. I saw his mother, whose ostentatious jewellery and haughty attitude told everyone around her she was not to be trifled with. Jacqueline Smith terrified me, and I couldn’t imagine her ever cooing over an infant Sayer. I didn’t know who this man was inside when the cameras were put away and everyone had gone home. I do now.

  A trip to China in my ninth month of work changed everything. We spent a hectic ten days in meetings during the day, exploring the city at night, and I realized I’d made a mistake. I’d made assumptions about him hitting on his staff that weren’t true. He’d been a perfect gentleman, not once overstepping the boundary of our profess
ional relationship. I’d imagined the scandal of him hooking up with his secretary would mean I couldn’t find another job in a quality firm. Since that trip I’ve regretted every single day that I said no to his early advance. Even the prospect of being forever stuck with his mother can’t lessen my attraction to him.

  He can never know, though. The week after he asked me out, he was photographed with an up and coming television star and they ended up dating for months. At the time I was relieved, figuring he’d forgotten all about me. These days when he starts up with someone, I have an awful few weeks until I get used to ignoring them together. Organizing dinner for tonight, Valentine’s Day of all days, I knew this was the last time I could endure the jealousy. No more pining for someone out of my reach. I’m done torturing myself. Done.

  Sayer pulls out his phone and makes a call. “This is Sayer Smith. Do you have a table for two available?” He grins and nods as the valet brings his car. “Excellent, I’ll be there in ten minutes. Please have the table ready as I don’t want to wait.” His tone leaves no doubt that he expects what he’s asked for.

  Where has he managed to book a table at such short notice? Most restaurants would be fully booked on Valentine’s Day, but I guess the Smith family name is working its charm tonight. I don’t bother to ask where we’re going as he opens the passenger door of his BMW and motions for me to get in. Ten minutes from now my question will be answered. I’ve always been able to wait for a surprise to be revealed.

  He skips around the front of the car before sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. His mood is contagious, and I find myself smiling even as I shake my head and look out the window.

  What has gotten into him?

  When we pull into the foyer of the Casino he says, “Wait there,” before jumping out of the car and handing the keys to the valet. I frown, wondering what he’s up to, then he opens my door and holds out his hand. “My lady. Our table awaits.”

  “Gawd,” I laugh, rolling my eyes as he helps me out. “Who even are you tonight?”

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out, but I’ll let you in on a secret.” He pulls me close, switching hands to hold mine in his left, while his other arm wraps around my shoulders. His breath tickles my ear as he leans in. “I’m the same guy I’ve always been. The one who’s always held a candle for you.”

  Shivers skitter down my spine, even though the night is balmy. Panic seizes my throat and any words I might have said freeze on my tongue.

  Did he admit he’s still interested in me?

  When I rushed from the office tonight, hoping to get the contracts signed before his date appeared, I could not have known the night would take a sharp left turn like this one. All at once I’m doubting my decision to resign, wondering if I’ve made another huge mistake. Mistakes appear to be a common theme in my relationship with my boss.

  Chapter Six - Sayer

  Our table is ready. I don’t expect anything less.

  I tip the restaurant concierge and keep hold of Kendra’s hand as he leads us to the rear of the cosy space. She glances around, worry etched on her face, and I know she’s checking who might see us. Normally I would do the same, but she doesn’t work for me anymore, and besides, what the fuck do I care what people think? As long as they don’t find out the one important fact I keep to myself, then I don’t care about anything else.

  It’s not like that secret won’t get out one day. Eventually one of us, Danny, Cole, or maybe even Wyatt will make a mistake, and the world will discover that those Fortune 500 lists and internet searches they rely on to report who has what, don’t tell the true story. The longer we can keep out of the spotlight, though, the better things will be for us.

  I grin as I take my seat across from her. I really fucking hope it’s Everett who outs us when the time comes. I’d savour his misery so much more than if loud mouth Danny bragged to someone about inventing a secret billionaire’s club.

  “What are you smiling at?” Kendra’s eyes are on me and I grin wider, putting my hand out with an expectant air. I don’t want her too far away. She hesitates and looks around again, before placing her hand in mine. I can’t help but stare as I twist my fingers around hers.

  A calm settles over me before I reply. “I’m enjoying the company of a beautiful woman. Is that a crime?”

  “A woman dressed for the office, now in a restaurant where a bottle of wine costs as much as her weekly pay check.”

  “Be that as it may—” I wait as the waiter appears and hands us each a menu. He takes our drink orders, his eyebrow peaking ever so slowly when I order a beer. Yeah, that’s right mate, the wealthy don’t always drink the finest whisky. When he’s gone, I continue, “You fit in. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “Maybe.” Our fingers are still entwined, and her eyes are drawn to them, again and again. “My car is at the hotel.”

  “Charge the parking to me.”

  “I’ll need it to get home.”

  “I’ll drop you off.” I give her fingers a squeeze. “If you still want to go home after dinner.”

  “What are my other options?”

  I look her in the eye, holding tight to her hand. “Do I have to spell it out?”

  She stares at me, reclining in her chair, uncertainty sitting plainly on her face. Our drinks arrive and I release her hand, allowing her to lift her glass to her lips. Kendra takes a fortifying taste and sighs. She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, whether tasting the bubbles or thinking hard, I can’t tell. I give her a moment and when she doesn’t speak, I decide to take the bull by the horns. If I don’t make my intentions clear the night will get away from us and I’ll be home alone, with contracts and gym time, kicking myself over this lost opportunity.

  “Can I be straight with you?” I keep my voice low. We may be in the most expensive restaurant this side of the river, but I still don’t want to share my business with anyone here. Gossip has a way of making it to the press with uncanny regularity. I’ve learned that first hand.

  “Please. I’d like to know what you’re thinking.”

  “I’m not going to try to convince you to stay at Mass.”

  “Good, because I’ve already resigned.”

  “Come on. You know that letter could find its way into the shredder and we’d never need to speak of it again.”

  “No.” Her voice is hoarse. “It can’t.”

  “Okay. If you’re determined to leave, I’d like you to come home with me tonight.”

  She straightens a little in her chair. “Why?”

  “Why do you think?” I frown to myself. I’m rarely unsure but I have to wonder if I’m speaking another language. Does she have no idea what I mean? Maybe this is a terrible idea and she’ll be screaming sexual harassment later, instead of my name dropping from her lips for other reasons.

  “I wouldn’t even dare to assume without you spelling it out in detail.”

  I chuckle and her eyes widen. She takes another drink and I reach out to capture her fingers again. She gulps and stares at our hands, a shiver running up her arm.

  “I want you to spend the night with me.”

  As the words leave my lips her eyes shoot up to meet mine. I nod and watch as her lips part. If she says no, I’m in for an uncomfortable night. Watching those parted lips, I make a mental note to go easy on the beer. I don’t want to have to walk to the restroom in front of all these people, not while she’s having this effect on me.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say, yes.” I watch as indecision flits across her face. She stares at the tablecloth, rolls her head to the side and then nods to herself. Crap! She’s going to refuse. “I’ve waited a long time to ask you again.”

  Her eyebrows rise as a thought strikes her. “I’ll need a reference. I don’t want to jeopardize that.”

  “You won’t.” I resist letting the hurt appear on my face. I don’t do emotion, as a rule. Does she think I won’t give her a reference if we sleep to
gether? “This has nothing to do with your job prospects, and everything to do with you and me.”

  “Why me?”

  “I’m not going to answer that, mostly because I can’t. Who knows what attracts one person to another? I know that I’ve behaved myself, like you asked, and now I’d like to do the opposite of behave myself around you.”

  Our food arrives and we both fall silent. Until she asks another question. “So, you’re attracted to me?” A smirk lingers at the corner of her mouth. I nod and I can only guess that she’s pleased.

  I take a bite of my steak, enjoying the flavour as I wait for her to convince herself that giving in to me is the best idea. At the office she struggles to give in when we disagree, and this moment is no different. Kendra Snow likes to get her own way almost as much as I do.

  After a few minutes of silence, where she tries the salad and chews with a thoughtful look on her face, she picks up her glass. “Maybe you need someone to be your one who got away.” She sips her champagne and watches me over the rim of the crystal flute. Her eyes are bright with excitement, contradicting her words.

  I sip my beer and stare back, hoping my own eyes look as full of anticipation as hers. “I’d prefer if you were the one who said she’d stay.”

  “Ooh, we’re rhyming now. Like song lyrics.” She laughs and it strikes me that Kendra never giggles. She always gives a full laugh like she appreciates whatever it is I’m saying. A giggle comes across as flirtatious, and I should know, I’m the recipient of enough of those. A laugh says there’s more to her and she’s not hanging on my every word. She’s like a breath of fresh air, which is part of the reason I’ve hung onto her all this time.

  “Kendra.” I let the words roll off my tongue, my tone low so she has to lean forward to hear. “If you come home with me, I guarantee we’ll make music together.”