The Barrington Billionaires Collection 1

by Danielle Stewart

  The idea of a happy couple made Emmitt glance down at this phone and pull up his text messages. Evie, the girl he’d pretended to be guarding, while actually watching over Jessica, had sent him a few messages he couldn’t bring himself to delete. It wasn’t like him to be sentimental or hold on to anything, but for some reason she stuck with him. It was how she’d conducted herself that he found most compelling.

  She’d traded her big acting debut for loyalty. She stood up for Jessica against a dickhead of a director who went on to trash both their careers. It made Emmitt’s blood boil to think about that asshole and what he did to Evie. The girl had done what she thought was right but now couldn’t seem to catch a break. He scrolled though the messages again.

  Evie: Sorry about the car. I’ll have it cleaned. I suck at everything.

  He chuckled a little at the memory of her dumping a full bag of Chinese food into the back seat of his rental car. She’d been running errands for West Oil since she got fired from the movie set, and she was absolutely awful at it. He conjured up the image of her tiptoeing into the office he’d taken over in the West Oil building and hiding behind her fingers while she told him about accidently knocking over the projector in the middle of a board meeting. She flushed every shade of pink and all it did was make him want to pick her up and lay her on his desk. He wanted to know if that flush covered every inch of her.

  But in an effort to keep things from being too messy, he’d left her alone. Texas was a temporary stop for him, and Evie didn’t seem like a temporary kind of girl. She wasn’t remotely prepared for a man like him. Emmitt wasn’t known for doing the right thing by people, but Evie seemed so close to falling apart, so down on her luck, he couldn’t think about being the one to finally break her.

  Chapter 2

  “I’m taking the jet,” a brash voice called in a near shout, sending Evie jumping and spilling the tray of coffee cups across the long boardroom table.

  “Shit,” she yelped, using her bare hands to try to sweep the puddle of iced coffee away from a stack of papers. Mathew shot to his feet and pulled the documents away, then lightly tapped Evie’s arm.

  “It’s fine, we’ll have the cleaning crew come up. It’s no big deal,” he assured her, but Evie wasn’t convinced.

  “But your coffee is . . .” she gasped, stepping away while still staring at the mess. “It’s basically the only thing I was qualified for and now I’d say we can rule this out too.”

  “It’s not your fault,” James West chimed in uncharacteristically, offering forgiveness. “Emmitt had to come in here yelling like he owns the place. Otherwise you wouldn’t have spilled them.”

  “First off, Evie doesn’t seem to need a reason to spill things. I assumed it was a hobby of hers. Second, I’m taking the jet,” Emmitt repeated, seeming completely unfazed by the mess or Evie’s brightly burning cheeks.

  “I heard you the first time,” James answered flatly. Evie had finally begun to get a handle on each person’s role in this weird saga she’d stepped into. James West was now the CEO of West Oil, since his father had suffered a stroke. The company had been the source of much controversy, but James was working to right the ship. Mathew was his business partner, his best friend, and as far as Evie could tell, his polar opposite. They argued about almost everything, but somehow they seemed to keep things afloat. They disagreed but seemed to care about each other in some odd way. The same could not be said for Mathew’s brother, Emmitt.

  To date, she hadn’t heard him agree with anyone on anything. What she had seen was Emmitt and James nearly come to blows twice in the last two months. Mathew was always standing between them, seeming to try to balance loyalty to his brother and to his best friend. And they all ended up losing in one way or another in the end.

  “Mathew,” Emmitt boomed, “the jet.” He directed his attention solely to his brother now and turned his back on James.

  “For what?” Mathew asked, flipping the coffee cups right side up again. Evie felt the urge to hide, the energy in the room vibrating to a dangerous crescendo. She backed up a few steps but Emmitt’s large frame was blocking the door. There was no exit that didn’t involve her shoving him aside. If that was even possible. His broad shoulders took up most of the doorframe and his tree-trunk legs were planted firmly on the ground.

  “I’m going back to Boston. I have a job up there. Have the jet ready.” His eyes never flinched, and his words never softened. If Evie or anyone else in the room was waiting around for a please or thank you, she had a feeling they’d better not hold their breath.

  “And my jet is yours to borrow like it’s a toy or something?” James chuckled humorously. “You can ask nicely.”

  “You can go fu—”

  “Can you watch your language for hell’s sake?” Mathew asked, kicking his chin over at Evie. “You two are unbelievable. I’m sick of breaking up your fights.”

  “I’m sure her delicate little ears have heard worse.” The stare that accompanied Emmitt’s words set Evie’s skin tingling. He was the most intense man she’d ever met. The brief time he’d spent as her bodyguard on the movie set before she’d been fired was still blazed in her mind. The problem was he was as brash as he was gorgeous and that was saying something, because the man was stunning.

  “Are you going to ask nicely?” James egged on again with a devilish grin.

  “Dunno,” Emmitt said unemotionally as though this were a poker game and he was holding a full house. “I can always call the Barringtons and tell them I don’t want the job. Then it wouldn’t matter what time I got back to Boston.”

  Evie knew the name. The sought-after CEO of a company James and Mathew were working hard to align with. When she wasn’t spilling coffee on people or forgetting to give them messages, she was sitting around overhearing business conversations, and she knew Emmitt was making an important play.

  “What are you talking about?” Mathew cut in before James could counter with anything. “You have a job working for Asher Barrington?”

  “Lance,” Emmitt said with a nonchalant shrug. “One of the brothers. I don’t know any details yet so don’t bother asking me. Still want to be a dick about the jet?”

  “Why you?” James asked, standing abruptly and rounding the table. “Why did they call you?”

  “Because I’m the best at what I do.”

  “Your reputation precedes you,” James agreed, “But not in a good way.”

  “That’s your perception, but if you knew anything about what I do you’d be offering me buckets of money to stay here.”

  “Like that job in Knoxville?” James asked, and Evie again felt the urge to run out the door. Instead she pushed herself to the wall and braced for the fireworks to come.

  “Every time,” Emmitt complained with a shake of his head. “You bring that up every single time. I get it, it’s a filthy job. But someone has to get shit done. I happen to be the one to get my hands dirty and then you criticize.”

  “That guy nearly died,” James barked out accusingly. “You bashed his head in.”

  “I only bash heads that need bashing,” he argued, pointing a finger that Evie thought could suddenly turn to a fist. “But we’re going in circles here. Let me say it again. I’m taking the jet.”

  “Is there any chance you’ll have one-on-one time with Asher?” Mathew asked, folding his arms skeptically over his chest and cutting in before James could throw another barb.

  “Dunno.” Emmitt shrugged again, his muscly shoulders and his arrogant attitude getting a workout this morning. “But I’m more likely to than either of you at this point.” Evie could hear her heart thudding loudly now as the three men continued to throw fuel on the fire among them.

  “We’re plenty capable. There are multiple options for us,” James countered, but there was a falter in his voice. “Mathew and Jessica are working the charity route with Sophie Barrington.”

  “We’re not working any route,” Mathew corrected quickly, waving off the accusation. “Th
e charity is a meaningful endeavor for Jessica. It just happens to possibly help us cross paths with some Barringtons. It’s not an angle. That makes us sound slimy.”

  “Whatever,” James exclaimed, exhausted by the semantics. “All I’m saying is don’t act like you’re some savior because you might be doing work for one of the Barrington brothers. Who knows what the job is? Maybe they’re looking for a guy to clean up after one of their dogs.”

  “You’re an arrogant, mother f—”

  “I should go,” Evie finally chirped out as she tried to make a move for the door. Her hands were covered in sticky cold coffee and her blond pulled-up hair had started to fall into her eyes. Sweat pooled in her red high heels, and she thought if she broke into a full run she’d slip right out of them.

  “You should,” Mathew agreed, his grimace flipping quickly to a curious smile. “You absolutely should go. Go to Boston with Emmitt.” The victorious look on his face was unsettling.

  “What?” Emmitt and Evie asked in unison, both sounding like the idea was insane.

  “Yes,” Mathew said, as he circled the room for a minute. “If there is even a chance you’re going to be a part of anything in the Barrington’s circle you’ll need something to soften your edges. You can’t just expect to be yourself.”

  “Exactly,” James agreed with a chuckle. “That would be a disaster.”

  “Evie would be perfect,” Mathew continued. “If there’s any mingling at all she’d be so endearing I know they’d almost be able to overlook your . . .” Mathew waved his hand at Emmitt without finding the right word to describe his brother’s shortcomings.

  “No,” Emmitt asserted unwaveringly. “I’m not babysitting. I did that already for you and it turned out like shit. I’m going to Boston alone.”

  “Not with my jet,” James challenged.

  “You were my easiest option, not my only option,” Emmitt boasted humorlessly. “I can rent a jet in twenty minutes; I don’t need you.”

  “Then why the fuck are you in here?” James asked, his blood-red face throbbing with anger. Evie was wondering as well. If what she’d heard about the Kalling’s wealth was true, Emmitt could get himself to Boston fairly easy. Why come and cause all this commotion over a job and jet you didn’t need?

  “Because this is fun,” Emmitt smirked as though the answer was completely obvious. The dimple on his cheek grew deeper as his wry smile broadened. “This is what I wake up for in the morning. If I can’t fuck with you, my life feels empty.”

  “Your life is empty,” James snapped, slamming a hand to his desk. “You think everything is a joke, that no one else matters. People matter, you fucking idiot. This company matters to me.”

  “Keep trying to insult me. I’ll remember that when I’m talking to Asher over a glass of Scotch and forget to bring your name up.” Emmitt’s back was arrow straight. He seemed completely unfazed by James and his bolstering.

  “Maybe an association with you wouldn’t help us at all,” James bit back, and Evie could feel the room begin to spiral again. It was suddenly cool, like a horror movie where the ghost finally makes its appearance.

  “I guess we’ll find out,” Emmitt taunted through a tight grin. “I’m taking the job no matter what. You’re better off staying on my good side just in case.”

  “Have the jet fueled up,” Mathew stated frankly as he pushed the intercom button on the phone in front of him. Luckily the river of coffee hadn’t touched it yet. “And send up the cleaning crew for a coffee spill.”

  “Another one?” the nasal voice on the other end of the intercom asked, sounding annoyed. Evie slapped a sticky hand to her forehead and tried to hide behind it.

  “Sorry,” she murmured, knowing full well no one was listening to her.

  “Don’t eat my chocolates,” James ordered as Emmitt walked wordlessly out of the boardroom. “I’m fucking serious. They all better be on the jet when it gets back here. I know how many are there. Those are worth a fortune and impossible to find.”

  Evie stood shell-shocked in the corner of the boardroom waiting for the right moment to escape. Maybe Mathew and James would dive deep into an argument about Emmitt, and she’d find it easy to slide out the door. But the moment didn’t come. Instead they were both fixed on her.

  “How quickly can you pack a bag?” Mathew asked, his soft eyes looking sorry but also desperate for her to comply. He’d spoken it like a question but there was something very final about his words.

  “For what?” she asked, as though this were a twilight zone. Clearly Emmitt had not wanted her to go with him so why was Mathew saying she should?

  “For Boston. You’re going. Just get to the jet and wait.” Mathew was straightening his tie in the reflection the full wall of windows provided.

  “He didn’t want me to go,” she pointed out. She fidgeted with the small locket that hung around her neck and wished it had magic powers to beam her away. “I think it was pretty clear I’m no use to him or anyone else. Look.” She pointed at the table covered in coffee. “There’s some pretty irrefutable evidence.”

  “I don’t care,” Mathew asserted. “The thing about Emmitt is he never knows what’s good for him. He never has. He needs you. Trust me.”

  “What am I supposed to do in Boston? I’m not sure I know what you’re asking,” Evie squeaked out. She spun her hands nervously hoping Mathew would change his mind.

  “You’re going to make that shithead look like less of a shithead,” James explained as he sank back down into his chair at the head of the boardroom table. “And that’s no easy task, but I’m sure you’re up for it.”

  “I’m not sure,” Evie whispered as she looked over helplessly at Mathew. The uncertainty of whether or not she would be good at helping wasn’t as terrible as the absolute certainty that everything she had done for the last couple months at West Oil had been a failure.

  “Just get on the jet. That’s step one,” James stressed. “If you don’t get tossed onto the tarmac and left on the asphalt you’ll be doing okay.”

  “Oh,” Evie said, imagining Emmitt’s giant hands lifting her off her feet and tossing her out the door.

  “He’s kidding,” Mathew interjected, using a hand to wave James off. The look that passed between them was one she couldn’t quite read.

  “I’m not joking,” James replied flatly. “And he knows it.”

  Evie drew in a deep centering breath and considered the alternative. She was no longer an actress. At least for now. And she clearly sucked at delivering coffee, picking up dry cleaning, and making appointments. She needed a way to get her life back on track. Boston, at the very least, would be a change of scenery. A chance at making a new plan. That was all she needed, a new plan.

  “I’ll try,” she offered, closing her lips tightly and nodding her head in an attempt to convince herself. People in her life needed her to be successful and up to this point they still believed she was glamorously working on some movie set. She didn’t have the heart, or maybe the guts, to make that phone call home.

  “Go,” James shouted, shooing her out of the room. “If you don’t get there before him he’ll never let you on the plane.”

  Her feet practically caught fire as she skittered out of the room. In over her head and completely alone, Evie let a few stray tears escape. She wiped at them feverishly with the back of her hands as she chanted some encouraging words. If nothing was going right in her life it was time to do something drastic. Like her mother used to say, “You can’t change without a challenge.” . . . and Emmitt sure as hell seemed like a challenge.

  Chapter 3

  “No,” was all Emmitt could say through gritted teeth as he boarded West Oil’s private jet. His blood boiled when he saw the silky golden hair cascading down Evie’s back as she turned away from him.

  “Don’t throw me off,” Evie croaked as she spun around quickly and sat down in the closest seat, like a child trying to win a game of musical chairs. He watched as she clutched the arm rests t
ightly, her long slim fingers were punctuated with red nail polish.

  “You aren’t coming to Boston. I don’t care what James told you. Just go.” He turned his back as he tossed his bag down. Intentionally ignoring her presence, he poured himself a drink from the most expensive bottle he could find and grabbed a handful of the chocolates James had explicitly said not to touch. Whatever protest Evie would come up with, he knew she’d be more convincing if he had to watch it head on. There was something so penetratingly sweet about that girl, and he didn’t need those long lashes batting up at him when he told her to go.

  “It’s not about James.” Evie forced assertiveness and but it came out as frantic. She sounded more desperate than brave, and he could knock down some arrogance, but a woman on the verge of tears was not as easy to shut down. “That’s not why I’m here. I need to go to Boston.”

  “What a strange coincidence.” Emmitt laughed as he finally sat on one of the plush chairs that faced her. She’d managed to get him to turn around, to care how she’d spin this story. “This morning you were busy throwing coffee around, and now you have important business in Boston? Does someone up there need a latté poured on them?”

  “I didn’t say I had business up there,” Evie corrected, her face turning crimson, which had him turning half hard. There was something about the full pink lips and her crystal blue eyes that kept him staring. “I can’t stay in Texas. I have to leave. Getting on this plane is something I have to do.”

  “Just go back to your farm, I’m sure the cows need milking. No one said you had to stay in Texas. If it’s about money, Mathew would pay your way home.” Emmitt had recalled that prior to her big break in the movies Evie was just a small-town country girl who grew up the farmer’s daughter. The vision of her in cutoff jeans and cowboy boots had his mind running wild. He’d been with a lot of women, but a farmer’s daughter was still on his bucket list.