Hit the Billionaire Jackpot

by Misty Evans

  There was a pause and a chuckle. “Yeah, I’m sending you more pictures. I got that new tattoo on my ass. You’re going to go shittin’ crazy when you see it.”

  The video ended. A soft voice dubbed over the end said, “Booker Jones, footage for TMZ” and the date.

  The paparazzi. One of them had slipped it in her coat instead of selling it. She thought back. The afternoon in the casino when Hawke had ambushed her and one of the paps had bumped into her. Why had he given it to her?

  Jenna sat in stunned silence. She’d known Hawke was a douchbag, but this? This made her want to scream, and then cry, and then scream again.

  He’d been using her. Using her kids.

  Who weren’t 'freaky sick kids’, goddamn him. What a horrible thing to say.

  “I’m offended on so many levels,” Wanda said, “I think I need a shower to get the ick-factor off.”

  “You and me, both.”

  Her foundation was stupid, she was an ugly bitch, and he’d been playing to the cameras in order to keep himself from going to jail.

  Bile rising, she told the computer to make a copy of the video, and then she ejected the USB. She was taking this to the board.

  And then she had an idea. A truly awful idea that could make or break her.

  She pocketed the USB and grabbed her dry cleaning. “I’m going to work from home,” she told Wanda.

  “You sure? I’m sorry, honey, but running away from problems doesn’t help solve them.”

  “Oh, I’m not running away, Wanda.” She gave her an evil grin. “This ugly bitch is about to show Hawke Thorn she knows how to work the press as well as he does.”

  20

  Pain. Jacob's teeth rattled and he tasted the brine of blood on his tongue. Fuck, that hurt.

  “Wake up, Swinton. You keep making this easy and I’ll kick your ass. As it is, you'll be black and blue, but at least you can try to fight back.”

  Jacob glared at his trainer, Marcus. “Fuck you.”

  “Oh, ho, ho. You kiss you mother with that mouth pretty boy? I thought you British boys knew how to swear inventively. 'Fuck you' is so boring.”

  Jacob swung wildly, but missed. Marcus was right. He was fighting with anger, emotional pain. It was fucking with his head. He glared at his trainer and sometimes-friend. “No, Mummy abhors kisses. But I kiss your mother with it.”

  Marcus grinned. “Ah, so you learned to trash talk in that prep school of yours. The young royals teach you that at Eaton or some shit?” Marcus landed a sidekick that sent pain into his lower back.

  “Fuck a wanker.”

  Marcus grinned. “Now, that's more like it. Start fighting, or you can get to having your ass beat.”

  Jacob shook his head and shifted his feet, trying to calm his brain, looking for an opening. “And the princes haven’t got a clue what to do with a 'your mama' joke.”

  His friend smiled and aimed a straight punch, which he just barely dodged. But he still dodged it. Focus. Focus.

  He hadn’t slept a wink since that last night in Vegas. He wasn’t proud of it, but after seeing Jenna in that asshole's arms, he'd needed to burn it out of his brain. The easiest way he knew to do that was alcohol. A lot of alcohol.

  Well and proper drunk...that had been his state that night...and he'd stayed that way for a solid two days. Shit, he'd missed several meetings. For the first time in the six years since taking over endowment duties from his mother, he'd taken a day off. Or rather the day had taken him. He didn’t remember a thing about it.

  He'd come back and tried everything he could to stay busy. Training two hours a day. Meeting with his families. Going into overdrive with foundation business and funding and working donors. He'd pulled in over three hundred thousand in one day alone. He'd been in a hell of a mood and no one had been eager to say no to him. He hated scaring donors into giving money, but fuck it, all for a good cause.

  He'd managed to only think about Jenna about once every minute, so that was progress, right? He'd managed to not call her, but he had to figure out a long-term solution. He couldn’t see her every day. He considered assigning someone else to deal with 3 Wishes, yet he was on the fucking board. His mother certainly wasn't going to do it.

  He had to step down. Swinton would still give money, but no way he was going to sit there staring at Jenna in meetings and mentally seeing her in Hawke's arms over and over again.

  After the punishing workout he climbed into his car to make the drive to the office. He knew what he had to do. Seeing her again wasn't an option he was willing to entertain.

  On his way, he turned onto Washington and drove past Mission Hills, passing the hospital on his left and 3 Wishes on his right. He told himself the pang in his chest was from his workout and not his feelings for Jenna.

  His car’s Bluetooth rang and he groaned when he saw Abigail’s name pop up on the display. He pressed the accept call button. “I can’t talk right now, Sis. I'm on my way to the office. I need to deal with the 3 Wishes situation.”

  “Aww, big brother, you're not seriously going to go through with this, are you? I mean, maybe you should talk to her. If you just—”

  “No. I need to do this. I can’t see her.”

  “Look, I know what the press is saying, but you can’t believe everything they print. They don’t know her.”

  “Neither did I, apparently.”

  “Damn it, Jacob. You are so damn stubborn. You have the woman of your dreams right in front of you. She’s perfect for you. You need to talk to her.”

  He ran a hand through his still-damp hair. “I talked to her. I've been talking to her. From the beginning she told me what she wanted. I’m the one who wasn’t listening. I turned her into this hot sex kitten for another man and I'm confused when she chooses him? The guy she said she wanted from the get-go? No. She told me what she wanted, and then she showed me. I’ve decided to start listening.”

  “Ew. Please no with the sex-kitten.”

  He smirked. “Fine, whatever. But from the moment she saw Hawke, hell, from even before that, she's had this huge crush on him. He was her ultimate guy and she can’t seem to shake the image. The fame and glamour is much more appealing than—” He cut himself off before he could say something stupid. It wasn’t love. Couldn’t be. After all, he didn’t really know her did he? The woman he thought he'd been falling for wasn't a fame whore. She was the kind of woman who said “Let all the fucks fly.” Who wore Chuck Taylors and preferred sweats. This woman wanted to be the rocker's girlfriend. So, no, he didn’t know her at all.

  “More appealing than what, big brother?”

  “Nothing. Listen. I'm here. I'll call you back.”

  “Jacob, come on. I get it. You’re hurt or mad, or both, and you want to blame her and maybe you should, but don’t turn your back on this. She could be really special. Not all of us have a chance at love. Don’t throw yours away.”

  His heart pinched. He understood what she wasn’t saying. She didn’t think she'd ever get the chance, and maybe she wouldn’t. Just moving from the kitchen to the sitting room caused her extreme pain. There was no telling the kind of strain attempting to date would put on her body. “You can’t force someone to love you, Abigail. It's not how it works. I'll call you later.”

  Once in the office, he sat down at his computer. He knew what he needed to say, but actually typing the words proved to be harder than expected. He cared about the work. Swinton had supported 3 Wishes for several years. Cared about each and every child. But he couldn’t work with Jenna. It just wasn’t happening.

  Fuck it. Just get it done, mate.

  It is with bittersweet sadness that I must step down from the board of the 3 Wishes foundation. I am proud of the work that 3 Wishes has done and hope to continue with the Swinton Endowment’s support of the Foundation. However, due to…

  What the fuck was he supposed to say here? Due to me wanting to rip off the head of the president’s new boyfriend I cannot continue in good faith to be impartial? No.
Not appropriate. Instead, he continued:

  ...alternate obligations, I find I must step down from such a hands-on position. The Swinton Endowment would be happy to supply an alternative board member for consideration. My resignation will be effective in thirty days.

  He’d iron out all loose ends, but then he was done with it. And he’d have his assistant correspond with Jenna. It was easier that way. Cleaner. Meanwhile, the Donor of the Year dinner was out of the question. Jenna and Hawke with an E in the same room with him? There was no way that was happening.

  His finger hovered over the send button. If you do this, it’s final.

  Final. Yeah, that’s what he needed.

  He’d never before understood why his mother insisted on emotional distance. This was why. It was safer. Less messy. He had a renewed respect for her now, and what she'd endured with his father. The media, the scrutiny. It could make a sane person lose it. It was no easy thing having the world privy to his personal life. Especially as his heart was breaking. As he hit send and essentially walked away from 3 Wishes, he walked away from his heart.

  * * *

  The knock at the door surprised Jacob. He'd taken the afternoon and opted to work from his condo. He'd never been happier to live in a doorman building than the last few days since returning from Vegas. There was no way the paparazzi were making it past the doorman.

  When he opened it he was surprised to find Ruth and Calen on the other side. He'd thrown an intimate party here once for all of his families. They’d been given all access passes to come over at will. “Hi, guys. What are—Is everything okay?”

  Ruth nodded. Calen looked sullen and upset. “We're sorry to bother you.”

  He shook his head. “Nonsense. Come in. I meant what I said. Open invitation. I didn’t even know you guys were in the city.”

  “Yeah, we had some things to take care of.” Ruth’s gaze shifted.

  Things? “You could have called. I would have sent the plane or something. I told you to use it at your will. You should have—”

  Calen’s lower lip quivered. “Jenna said you weren't coming to the donor dinner.”

  Her name sent a spear of splintering pain through him. “Jenna? What do you know about Jenna?”

  “She invited us to the donor dinner.” Ruth said.

  He shook his head. “But how? She doesn’t know anything about you guys. I kept your anonymity.”

  Ruth reached out and patted his hand. “Yes, I know. It’s a long story. But we'll be there, and we insist you go. You’re the whole reason we're going.”

  Calen's chin tipped up. “I need you to go.”

  Jacob sighed. “Look, Calen, it's complicated, but I can’t. As of the end of the month, I won’t be on the board anymore, and it's best I don't go.”

  The kid wasn't giving in. “You said if I ever needed you, like really needed you, no matter what, you'd be there. This is important. I need to you to be there.”

  Jacob stared at the kid. “I'm sorry, Calen.”

  “Why? Or was that promise just bullshit?”

  Ruth turned a raised eyebrow and pursed her lips at her son. He muttered an apology.

  “I'm sorry, Jacob. It’s just very important. Calen's been working on something, and well, you’re going to want to see it. You do a lot for us. We recognize that, and we don’t like asking you for things. And so far we haven’t. You’ve been too generous, but this time I'm asking. We both are. We’re asking you to go to the dinner.”

  Calen's eyes softened. “Please, Jacob.”

  Fuck. He really was going to have to work on thickening the brick wall around his heart. “Fine. For a little bit, but then I’m going to want answers to some questions.”

  Calen grinned. “Thank you. You won't regret it.”

  Not true, but what the hell. He was a masochist apparently. He'd figure out some way to guard his heart between now and then.

  21

  The dinner was in full swing.

  Jenna made the rounds in a dress Jacob had picked for her eons ago during her first dress-for-success lesson. The deep V of the neckline and the shimmering ice blue color of the long skirt made her feel like a mermaid.

  God, she missed him, and he was being totally asinine. He’d quit the board—should have seen that one coming, Jen—and withdrew himself from the Donor of the Year nominations. Everything she’d done in anticipation of having him here tonight was in jeopardy.

  Ruth had been her secret weapon. Ruth and Calen. They swore they’d convinced Jacob to show, and every few seconds Jenna stole a peek at the main entrance, waiting and hoping he would get there before her speech.

  She had the video ready to go. Booker Jones had also received a call. He’d done her a favor and now she wanted to return it. When he’d heard her idea he’d jumped on the train, getting a local cable channel to broadcast the award ceremony live.

  All in, Jenna reminded herself, clasping her shaking fingers. She had five minutes until the official start of the dinner. Her mouth was as dry as cotton and her feet were already killing her in a pair of three-inch pumps. She’d forgone the wedges, which didn’t seem dressy enough, and now she was sorry.

  “Stunning!” Van declared as she caught up to Jenna. She was dressed in beautiful red chiffon, not a hair out of place in her elegant up-do. “Everything, including you.”

  Jenna accepted a hug from her and a follow-up hug from her brother as Alex gave her his serious face. “I know the past month has been hell on you, Jen, but you’re doing a great job. We’re all proud of you.”

  That was debatable. Jenna snuck a glance over her shoulder at her parents sitting at their reserved table. Board members were hovering, probably telling them all kinds of stories that weren’t too flattering. “Thanks, Alex. I appreciate it.”

  “The floral arrangements, the food…” Van gave her a you-did-good nod. “Even the seating arrangements with the volunteers and a few of the families interspersed with the press, it’s all perfect.”

  Except me, Jenna thought. She could have the perfect hair, makeup, and dress, and she was still a failure; she didn’t have Jacob.

  “Where’s Hawke?” Alex asked. “I want to punch him in the nose.”

  Wait till you see my video. “He’s always late. I suspect tonight will be no exception.”

  “Bastard,” Van said under her breath. “He likes to make an entrance so all eyes are on him. Good thing he doesn’t work for me. I’d bust his balls for being late.”

  Alex stroked her arm. “You’d bust his balls for a lot of things, I bet.”

  “Damn right.”

  Wanda was peeking out from the curtain on stage, waving at Jenna. “That’s my cue. I’ve got to go.”

  Another hug from Van. “Knock ’em dead, kid. Remember to look them in the eye and don’t touch your hair.”

  Jenna smiled. “I’ll remember.”

  She stole one last glance at the main entrance. No Jacob.

  Well, she’d have to hope he was at least watching the live broadcast.

  Promptly on the hour, Jenna took the stage. It took nearly a minute to get everyone quiet and seated so she could begin.

  She used the standard opening to the event, welcoming everyone and thanking them all for coming.

  Then she launched into what 3 Wishes had accomplished in the past year, the addition of volunteers, the amount donations had increased, and their goals for the coming year. As she spoke, a slideshow of 3 Wishes kids and their families played on the giant screen behind her. Photos from wish fulfillments showed kids riding horses, playing golf, meeting their heroes, and smiling. There were always lots of smiles.

  During the annual DOTY dinner, the 3 Wishes Foundation also handed out awards to the Volunteer of the Year and Kid of the Year. Each group had already had their own dinner, but recognizing them at the DOTY dinner was an important piece of the program Jenna had added. Without donors, they would have no 3 Wishes Foundation, but the money wasn’t the only thing keeping the doors open. The volunte
ers, kids, and her staff were also integral to the success of the organization.

  After recognizing all of them, Jenna sipped her water. The lights made her hot, and she felt slightly woozy. She kept checking that blasted main entrance, but so far there had been no new arrivals.

  You can’t back out now.

  She caught Ruth’s eye in the crowd. Ruth gave her a sad smile, knowing who Jenna was looking for. Then she raised both thumbs in encouragement.

  Shoulders back. No slouching. “If everyone would please bear with me for a moment, I need to make an announcement.”

  A commotion broke out at the entrance. Everyone’s head swiveled. Jenna found herself rising up on her toes to get a better look…

  And saw blond hair blowing out around Hawke’s head as he ascended the stairs at a fast clip.

  He stopped at the top, looked around for a moment at the crowd, and spread his arms wide. “Did you start the party without me?”

  People laughed. The paps snapped pictures.

  Hawke strode forward, his manager, publicist, and personal assistant dogging along at his heels. He didn’t need to be told where to sit. He assumed the empty table at the front was reserved for him and his entourage.

  He winked up at Jenna as he jerked a chair out and plopped into it. “Excuse the interruption, J. Traffic was a bitch. Go on, go on. I can’t wait to find out who the Donor of the Year is!”

  He was drunk. Again. She could smell the booze on him from up on stage.

  After everything, why did that surprise her? Before she could stop herself, words spilled from her mouth. “You don’t have a decent bone in your body, do you?”

  He laughed as if it were a joke and glanced around. “I raised a hundred K for your foundation. I think that proves I’m full of decent bones, don’t you?”

  Jenna drew a breath. Appear tall and confident. Do not walk down there and slap him.

  She straightened her spine, cleared her throat. “I have decided in light of recent events—”

  Members of the press had left their seats and crowded around the back with their cameras, trying to capture the right picture or maybe a better angle of the both of them. They all assumed he was receiving the award.