The Barrington Billionaires Collection 1

by Danielle Stewart

  Aria instantly thought of the psychic reading Gwen had given them. Monroe really was a man of two worlds. Only one could truly sustain him. “I’m happy you found someone who treats you well,” Aria offered. “James seems like one of the good ones.”

  “I take one hundred percent of the credit for that,” Libby explained seriously. “The man didn’t know how to stop being angry long enough to dabble in any other emotion. I think men assume they’ll become successful and everything else will fall into place. Once they make their millions, they can stop being an ass and start being happy. That isn’t how happiness works. It’s not some trail you hike and someday find the end, kick up your feet, and relax. The trail is what it’s all about.”

  “I don’t know if I’m more upset with him or myself for thinking he could be the answer to my problems,” Aria admitted as the sea climbed closer to their feet with every wave.

  “What do you know for sure? When you close your eyes and you hear the gulls and the waves and feel the wind on your cheeks, what do you know to be true?”

  “I’m all right,” she whispered, closing her eyes tightly. “I know I can get back up. I can keep going.”

  “Then everything else will work itself out in the end.”

  Chapter 26

  “Are you still with me?” Mathew Kalling asked as he leaned in to get Monroe’s attention. He was the COO of West Oil and apparently best friends with James. Someone had droned on, telling Monroe the story of their history, but he couldn’t remember it. No more than he could remember what he and Mathew had been talking about.

  “Yeah,” he stuttered out. “I’m listening.” Monroe tapped his fingers on the rich wood of the long conference table and took a long sip of coffee.

  “Listen,” Mathew said, turning toward James, who sat at the head of the table, “we all get it wrong sometimes. I won’t hold it against you. You thought this guy had the golden touch and yet I can’t get him to stay awake in a strategy meeting. Why don’t we call it? Time of death on this partnership, nine thirty a.m.”

  “I’m listening,” Monroe repeated, this time with a bite in his voice. “This isn’t hard. We found a stellar plot of land at a reasonable price. It has everything we need if we want to build on it, and if we don’t we’ll resell it after the tax changes apply on the island.”

  Mathew huffed and yanked off his glasses. “If you think it’s that simple, you are not what we were promised by Asher Barrington. James, maybe this is a test. Maybe Asher wants to see how we handle this. You know he’s not above a tactic like this.”

  “He has a broken heart.” James leaned back in his large leather chair. “The kid screwed up something good, and now he’s sitting here wondering how it all went wrong.”

  “That’s not it,” Monroe barked. “I’m fine. You’re beating a dead horse here.”

  “You’re a consultant,” Mathew challenged. “We’re paying you to consult on top of the money we’ll pay for our half of the deal. Start consulting. Stop crying in your coffee.”

  “The testosterone levels in this room are off the charts,” Libby said from the doorway. “I’m going to have to turn the hose on you soon.”

  “I’m behaving,” James defended. “It’s these two who can’t seem to get their act together. Save that icy stare for them.”

  “It’s your circus,” Libby said, tossing her hands up. “You’re in charge of the clowns. I came to tell Monroe that company I was talking about came through. They’re interested, and they will follow up.”

  “Good,” Monroe replied, lighting a little with a glimmer of hope. “Have them keep me posted.”

  “So business with Libby you can do.” Mathew chuckled. “But I can’t get you to look at these land survey contracts.”

  “Here,” Monroe said, pointing to the map. “This area is off limits. It butts up to the main road. You’d think that’s a selling point, but not for a resort. If we buy this land and build, we’ll regret being so close to this main strip. All the land on that road will be bought up by smaller companies, and they’ll put T-shirt shops and trinket stores up, and we’ll be lumped in with them. Being a few more miles down the road will give guests a sense of exclusivity.”

  “See, was that so hard?” Mathew asked, sliding the map back to him and making notes.

  “I need some air,” Monroe said, shooting to his feet.

  “Just call her,” James suggested as Monroe headed out of the conference room. “Every day you don’t is a wasted day.”

  “I’m not calling her,” Monroe bit back. “Not until I have something worthy of listening to. And I may never have that. She deserves better.”

  Chapter 27

  “Do you have a moment to speak with me?” A man with fire-red hair and a smattering of freckles stood expectantly in front of Aria. “I’ll only need a few minutes.”

  “Do you need some towels?” Aria asked, a chilling feeling filling her stomach. Today she was covering for the shorthanded pool staff. The resort was completely booked, and the sun was blazing hot. That meant the pool would be overrun with guests who were short on patience. They wanted their frozen drinks a minute after they ordered them. Chairs were in high demand and folks were looking to the staff to help them find prime locations.

  “No, I don’t need any towels. I need to speak with you about your work schedule. My name is Randolph. I’m with the National Fairness Action Group. Some information has been brought to my attention, and you’ve been identified as someone I should talk to.”

  “I . . . ah,” Aria stuttered, “I can’t talk right now. I’m on my shift.”

  “When will you be done?” Randolph asked, his kind eyes made larger by the magnification of his thick glasses.

  “About ten hours from now,” Aria huffed. “I’ll be free to talk then. I’m not looking for any trouble though.”

  “I can assure you we aren’t looking to cause you any problems. We only want to confirm some information we’ve been provided.”

  “And then what?” Aria asked, dumping the wet towels she’d gathered into the large laundry bin.

  “What do you mean?” Randolph asked, taken aback by her frustrated tone.

  “I mean you get all the information you want. I show you the truth and then what does the National Fairness Action Group do? What happens then?” Aria began pushing the laundry bin toward the employee elevator. The sun beat down on Randolph’s bright red hair and his freckled face was beading with sweat.

  “We’re an NGO,” Randolph said as though that answered the question. “We gather information. We surface it to those who may be able to make an impact. We facilitate legislation. Our network of lawyers investigates any laws that have been broken.”

  “But you don’t have any real authority,” Aria said, turning her back to him as she pressed the button for the elevator.

  “I was told you’d be one of our strongest allies in this endeavor,” Randolph said in a hushed voice as other people passed. “I was led to believe you were the champion of this cause.”

  “I’m sorry,” Aria whispered. “I’m short on faith right now. I’m not giving merit to the idea that anyone can help, no matter what I do or say. You’re another empty hope right now.”

  “We have changed things,” Randolph argued, now his passion showing through. “Our reports shed light on a similar disparity in Dubai’s service industry. Changes are being made. Consumers, now that they are aware, are making choices that impact a business’s bottom line. Nothing drives them to change quicker than hitting their wallets.”

  “I’m just tired,” she muttered as the elevator doors open. “I’m not sure I have the energy to be the champion of any cause.”

  “I understand,” Randolph said, his face softening again. “In ten hours when your shift is over, I’ll find you. I hope you find the energy. You’re the linchpin. We need you.”

  “Who told you I was so important?” Aria asked, sliding a hand in front of the elevator door so it wouldn’t close before she could ge
t the answer.

  “Libby James,” Randolph explained quickly. “She wouldn’t stop until we got involved. She’s persistent. Isn’t she who you thought tipped us off?”

  Aria pulled her arm back and let the elevator doors shut. The idea that Monroe would have been the one fluttered away. “I figured.”

  Chapter 28

  “You’ve done good,” Randolph cheered as he clinked his glass of beer onto her glass of water. “The investigation is strong. I know there’s been great risk to you, and yet you keep going. Thank you for that.”

  “It’s been a long month,” Aria agreed. “But I’m glad you have what you need. What do you think will happen next?”

  “We have more than expected. Everything has been distributed to all our channels. Immigration lawyers, civil liberty teams, media outlets.”

  The idea of the media put a lump in her throat. “But I won’t be mentioned right? I don’t want to have anything to do with the media coverage or any kind of attention.”

  “You may change your mind.” Randolph smirked. “I’ve seen movies made about this stuff, and you’d be a good contender for the heroine in this story. Your people love you, they trust you, and that’s why they spoke out. At a minimum this story will get mass media coverage and the Carle De Blu will be face a trial in the court of public opinion. Pressure on them will be severe. If we are lucky other groups will get involved and offer solutions to employees on an individual basis. True solutions with longevity.”

  “You think they’ll be forced to shut their doors?” Aria asked, moving her food on her plate absentmindedly.

  “In my experience someone will buy it. It’s not easy money, but people like to attach their names to broken things so they can fix them. Then they take all the credit.”

  “I’ve known that in my life,” Aria replied flatly. “Thank you for all your help. I know Libby had to really hound you to get here, but I’m glad you came.”

  “Speaking of which,” Randolph said, bobbing his pointy shoulders up and down as he laughed, “I have a surprise for you.”

  Libby was crossing the restaurant’s dining room with a wide grin on her face. “I heard the good news. Things are rolling now.”

  Aria popped to her feet and accepted the affection of bubbly Libby. “What are you doing here?”

  “Well,” she said, her eyes darting away, “the boys had some business down this way, and I insisted they take me.

  “Join us,” Randolph said, pulling out a chair at the table for her. “I’ll get the wine list.”

  “No wine for me,” Libby said, patting her belly. “This island is apparently good for fertility. The last time we were here we made a little present.”

  “You’re pregnant?” Aria asked, lighting joyfully as she took Libby’s hand. “That’s great news.”

  “It’s very early,” Libby cautioned, “but we’re so excited.”

  Randolph’s phone rang, and he groaned. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me. I have to take this call.”

  When he was out of earshot Libby leaned in and whispered, “Good, I was hoping I could get you alone. I’m so excited about the news I’ve been getting from Randolph. It sounds very promising.”

  “It is,” Aria agreed. “I can’t thank you enough for the persistence you showed in getting them to come here. It means a lot to me.”

  “You’re thanking the wrong person,” she said, with glittery mischief in her eyes. “I only did what Monroe asked me to. He was relentless in his pursuit of action here. He’s insisted on being kept up to speed on all progress, and when they hit a snag, whether financial or technical, he stepped in to assist. This was his baby. He just wanted me to be the go-between so you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.”

  “Uncomfortable?” Aria asked, still processing what she was being told.

  “Uncomfortable, furious, homicidal . . . he wasn’t really sure how you would react to the news that he was driving all of this.”

  “I don’t feel any of those things,” Aria admitted, leaning back in her chair as she tried to assess exactly how she felt. Part of her assumed Monroe had moved on. Their time together was just a short-lived fling he’d quickly put behind him.

  “He’s been a mess,” Libby interjected. “I’m not supposed to tell you that part. James specifically told me I should stay out of the personal side of this. But Monroe is not bouncing back. He refused to come on this trip for fear of upsetting you. They’re looking at potential land sites, and they intend to make a purchase or two this week. Even with all that, he’s staying away.”

  “It may be self-preservation,” Aria suggested. “If he thinks I’m upset, he doesn’t want to deal with it.”

  “He thinks he cracked a little bit of you, and if he comes back, he’ll break you completely. He told me that in those exact words. The anguish on his face. It’s not something he could fake. Maybe it’s these damn pregnancy hormones, but I’m telling you, the man is in pain. It’s like he’s mourning.”

  “There’s nothing to mourn. It was a fling. Something that happened and then ended.”

  “You don’t believe that, and neither do I. It’s something you’re telling yourself.”

  “Sometimes it’s all we have. The lies we tell ourselves to keep the truth at bay. I know what I felt for Monroe. I know what I hoped would happen, what I dreamed would happen. But it didn’t and it won’t.”

  “Go back with me,” Libby pleaded. “Go back to Texas and talk to him. I know you can settle this if you try. He’s done so much behind the scenes to make sure you’re all right.”

  “Tell him thank you,” Aria said coolly. “There are many people here who will be helped by his actions. I’m grateful.”

  “But you won’t go speak to him?” Libby asked, the hopefulness in her eyes extinguishing as Aria continued sit rigidly.

  “A lot of people didn’t know what they were getting into when they chose this place. Regret instantly filled their hearts. If they could do it over again, they’d never come. That’s not how I feel. No matter how bad it has been here, I don’t regret the choices I’ve made. I never will. Being with Monroe distracted me. It gave me a taste of everything I’m missing. What it didn’t do was change my life’s circumstances. All it did was make me feel worse. I won’t put myself through that again.”

  “There’s always a way,” Libby pressed, but Aria stood up quickly.

  “For billionaires maybe. But not everything can be repaired. What I don’t want is for Monroe to feel guilty for how he left things. He has no debt to pay to me or anyone else. Tell him to move on. Tell him to forgive himself. He did nothing wrong.”

  “He was afraid you might say that,” Libby said, a pained look on her face. “In that case he wanted me to give you something.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a folder. “Monroe said you can keep it or put it in the trash. It’s up to you. I don’t know what’s in it, but I hope whatever it is, you keep it. I’m not sure what makes you certain you deserve so little out of life, but I hope something changes your mind someday.”

  Aria reluctantly took the large envelope and clutched it to her chest. She couldn’t imagine what he might have gifted her. Especially considering it was only supposed to be given to her if she refused to talk with him. “I should go,” Aria apologized. “I am so grateful for your offer and your friendship. You’re going to be a wonderful mother, Libby.”

  “I hope my mother is around to see it,” she said, blinking the tears away. “She has dementia. It’s bad. She lost so much in her life. Hurt by so many people, and every time she got back on her feet something knocked her down. I’m finally in a position to give her the best care in the world. A billionaire with every option at my fingertips.”

  “That’s good,” Aria offered, but Libby didn’t seem relieved.

  “Yet even with all that money, I can’t get her to remember my name most days. She might hold this baby and think she’s young again, and it’s me she’s holding. Or she might not live long enough to g
et the chance. If my mother was handed a gift all those years ago, I know she’d have taken it. And if she had, some of the years she spent suffering would have washed away. She can look back and say she struggled her whole life. But you,” Libby said, reaching out for Aria’s hand, “you have a lot of life left to live.”

  Chapter 29

  Aria sat alone in her lumpy bunk staring at the envelope. She’d shaken it, felt around the edges, and even smelled it. She had no idea what it might hold. Opening it felt like too big a task. No matter what was inside she was sure it held a choice. Like he said, either use it or toss it in the trash.

  Lifting it again, she finally put her finger beneath the flap and ripped it across the top. Tipping and spilling the contents she reached first for the handwritten letter with her name at the top.

  Dear Aria,

  If you have this, it means Libby couldn’t convince you to change your mind. I respect that and you more than I can explain in just one letter. I’ve sat across from important people many times in my life. I’ve thought them to be strong and wise, yet they all pale in comparison to the awe I felt sitting across from you.

  For a while I tried to sort out who held all the blame in this. Somedays it was all on my shoulders. Other days I thought it was the circumstances we were victims of. Now I realize there is no blame at all. Because blame doesn’t change things. Knowing who hurt you doesn’t make you feel any less pain.

  That realization won’t stop me from saying I’m sorry though. I truly am sorry for leaving things unsaid and unexplained. I’ve never been good at transparency. It’s always made me feel too exposed. But I should have known I was safe to tell you everything.

  The only thing I could think to give you is what you’ve actually been asking for this whole time. Peace. In this package you’ll find the information for a man on the island who will provide you with everything you need to start fresh. Pick a new name. Get a passport. He’s already been paid. You’ll have a whole new background, and you’ll be free of the worry of being found out.