Billionaire's Match

by Walker, Kylie

  Dayton

  "Looking snappy. What's the occasion?" Mike asked. He handed me a cup of coffee and gave my pressed shirt an appraising look. "Did you actually pick up an iron."

  I ground my teeth, but it was no use ignoring him. Mike knew me better than anyone. "Mrs. Upton pressed it for me," I admitted.

  Mike laughed. "She must have been over the moon!"

  "She wondered if I was going to a funeral."

  Mike almost spilled his coffee as he bent over laughing. My housekeeper, Mrs. Upton, had been underutilized for years, and Mike was right: she had almost fainted when I called the main house to request wardrobe help.

  "What was her second guess, a hearing at the courthouse?" Mike asked.

  I pushed past Mike and flipped through a few files while standing in front of the small window of our trailer office. "Very funny," I muttered.

  "What'd you tell her? That you're dressing nicer to attract the attention of a fashionable lady?"

  I scowled. "Who says that's why? I am the boss; I thought it was time to start dressing like it."

  "Or you're on the lookout for a certain tenant's daughter in the hopes she notices you're not a total slob," Mike said.

  I brushed off a fresh smudge I'd gotten from our well-used filing cabinets and sighed. Jessa had been stopping by two or three times a week. She always claimed to be meeting her father, though he was hardly ever in his office. Or she was showing me antique listings that she could have easily sent over email. Either way, I had gotten into the habit of looking for her mid-morning.

  I took another step and turned to Mike. "Jessa's been really helpful getting some authentic finishing’s for the renovation."

  "So you haven't told her about your family's vast collection?" Mike knew the answer but watched me curiously.

  I ground my teeth again. "No. And she doesn't need to know."

  "Why not? I would think Jessa Lauren is the one person in the world that would understand your family," Mike said.

  I shook my head. "As soon as she found out I was that Miller," I gestured to the building's nameplate, "all she would be interested in is my money. I've gone down that road too many times before."

  "Yeah, she does strike me as a little shallow." Mike's tone was cautious.

  I had to put my coffee down for fear I would crush the mug. "You shouldn't judge people by how they look."

  "Says the man in a fresh-pressed shirt," Mike replied. "She judged you the first time she met you, and she couldn't be more wrong. How's that not shallow?"

  I struggled to explain. "She's different. Seriously, man. Jessa's aware of her status; she doesn't take it for granted. And she doesn't hide her thoughts behind her money and privilege."

  "Hmmm, you two have had more time to talk than I realized," Mike said.

  I groaned. "Is it so bad that I'm interested in someone?"

  "Hey, man, I'm just trying to stop you from going headlong into heartbreak."

  I punched my friend in the shoulder. "Well, you don't have to worry. I'm not heading anywhere with Jessa. She's engaged, remember?"

  Mike snorted. "You know that sleaze ball spit on Marcus' shoe, right? Told him he wasn't allowed to walk through the lobby in his work boots. And Marcus was the one that reset the mosaic on the floor!"

  "Robert Duncan did that?" I asked.

  "You're not surprised."

  I shook my head. "I knew him a little way back when. He's definitely the kind of guy that thinks he can spit on anyone under his tax bracket."

  "Well, if he does it again I'll fix his pretty face." Mike thumped a thick fist into his palm.

  "No, I think that pleasure should be mine," I growled.

  It was impossible to think that Jessa was engaged and downright disgusting to know she was attached to Robert. I paced the small office trailer.

  Why couldn't I have met her sooner?

  Jessa was on the edge of an elite life, but I knew, better than anyone, that money and privilege could not make a person happy. I wanted to warn her, pull her back, give her a chance to find her own way. But that was ridiculous; the best I could do was have another pleasant conversation with her when I saw her.

  More than my physical attraction, Jessa had struck a chord with me. She didn't come right out and say it, but her comments always hinted at the confusion she felt. She knew her current trajectory would make her miserable, but she didn't believe she had any other choice. She didn't know who she would be outside her family and fortune.

  I once felt exactly the same way.

  Growing up, I was nothing but a product of my family. I wasn't even called by my first name. I was Miller or the Miller's son; that ultra-rich kid whose family owned a major part of the prime real estate of the United States. My family fortune overshadowed me until I almost faded away.

  I knew I had stood right where Jessa was, and I wanted to reach out and help her. It wasn't easy to walk away from a life like that, but she was starting to realize it was no way to live.

  Jessa deserved to truly live.

  She was open with me about feeling lost. We'd chatted about school, college, and careers. She had a degree in art history but had never even considered doing anything with it. She'd never been encouraged to work or to find a purpose. In Jessa's world, her purpose was to look pretty, wear new fashions, and marry well.

  Just like my purpose had been to inherit billions and live a life of leisure. Any move to discover my own worth only tarnished my family's reputation. I was a placeholder, only fit to uphold the family name, nothing else was expected of me.

  The only difference between Jessa and I was that I had rebelled. My mother still referred to it as a 'breakdown' and blamed it on overwhelming grief that followed my father's passing. That was the great and sympathetic tale she told her jet-set as they sat on Italian veranda's and sipped Napoleon brandy.

  The truth was I only had one way out of the life in front of me: jail. Serving time in prison assured that my social circle would never look at me again. It was also supposed to get me cut out of the will, but my mother wasn't fooled. She left me as heir just to get back at me for the slight embarrassment I caused her.

  That money sat untouched, but it weighed on me every day like my mother knew it would.

  Jessa, on the other hand, had said 'yes' to Robert. She was obediently following the path her parents' had cleared. It was obvious her father had arranged the engagement. Uniting the Duncans and Laurens would elevate both families into American royalty. Jessa felt trapped, but she was too good, too dutiful even to be able to articulate the feeling.

  I wanted to scream it at her, but it was her life, not mine.

  After serving my time, I had defied my mother and found a vocation. On construction sites, no one cared where I came from, only if I could hammer a nail straight. I worked anonymously for years until I met Mike. He was repairing the infrastructure on one of my family buildings and connected the dots almost the moment he saw me.

  Not much got past him.

  "Speak of the devil," Mike said.

  Robert popped out of Jessa's limousine and strolled around to her side of the long car. He waited for Jeffers to open the door even though he was right there and capable. Jessa got out with a tight look on her lips.

  Mike gave a short sigh. "The happy couple."

  I watched with clenched fists as Robert spat some insult at Jeffers. Jessa looked over her shoulder, sending a sympathetic glance to her long-time driver. Then Robert noticed and grabbed her elbow hard. He hauled her towards the front steps.

  Anger flooded my body. "I should go out there."

  Mike shifted in front of the door. "I thought you were allergic to drama. Getting between that jerk and his fiancée is more trouble than its worth."

  My friend was right, but I shoved past him and jumped down the trailer steps. Robert was still holding Jessa's elbow in a bruising grip and sniping something into her ear.

  "Ms. Lauren, so nice to see you again," I called out. "I hear congratulation
s are in order."

  I strolled over and held out a hand to Robert. I planned to crush his weak grip and give him a quick warning, but Jessa's fiancé pulled back from my hand in disgust.

  "Is this the worker you were talking about?" he asked Jessa.

  She gave me a pained look and nodded. "I thought it best if I helped get the right finishings. Father loves a job done right," she said.

  "And you think it's your job?" Robert gave a disgusted snort. "Honestly, Jessa, what a stupid notion. I'm sure your father will be horrified to hear you've been associating with these types."

  He shifted Jessa sharply to his other side, away from me. I heard her stifle a yelp of pain and suddenly my vision darkened.

  "Let the lady go," I snarled.

  "The nerve," Robert said to her. I was a non-entity, and he spit on the sidewalk near my shoe to prove it.

  I had his collar bunched tightly in my fist within seconds, his breath cut off before my vision cleared. Mike had appeared and stood between a dead-pale Jessa and her choking fiancé.

  "Must be Halloween. The ghouls are out," Mike joked.

  I let go of Robert. "Watch how you treat the lady because I'm watching you," I spat in a low growl near his shoe.

  Robert smoothed down his shirt, still refusing to acknowledge me. He turned to Jessa and snapped, "I'm going to speak with your father about all of this. Are you coming?"

  Jessa nodded. Robert held out his arm, and she cautiously took it. As he started up the steps, she looked back at me. I couldn't meet her eyes.

  If Jessa didn't want to be saved, there was nothing I could do.

  Chapter 5

  Jessa

  I wished the front steps would crumble and the ground would swallow me whole. Instead of a bright, hot blush of embarrassment, my cheeks felt like cold marble. I felt frozen all over, and if Robert hadn't hauled me along by my arm, I wouldn't have been able to move.

  I knew he was a snob; I had seen it before in the way he treated wait-staff and even acquaintances that did not have as much money. But the cruelty I felt in his grip, and his cutting disregard for Dayton was more than I could stand.

  But what could I do?

  My heart sank when I looked back and saw that Dayton had turned away. He was right; there was nothing more for him to do. It was my choice, but I was frozen from the inside out.

  If I reprimanded Robert in public, he would find some way to punish me later. Already he dragged me towards my father to demand some kind of recompense for my disloyal behavior.

  Robert believed people were either part of his world or needed to get out of his way.

  That thought sparked a burning hope. Maybe I could get Robert to back out of our engagement. My heart hammered and I tried to find the words that would push him over the edge and set me free.

  Then I looked up and saw my mother emerge from the office building. Her hand shook as she slipped on a pair of dark Armani sunglasses, but she wasn't fast enough to hide her puffy eyes.

  "Ah, Mrs. Lauren," Robert called out. "Perhaps you can help clear something up for your daughter."

  My mother held up her hand. "Not now, Robert dear. I hate to put you off, but I need Jessa right now."

  Robert scowled and pinched my arm tighter to him. "This will not stand. That worker, that maggot of a man down there--"

  "Don't think twice about him," my mother said. "Darling, I had a reservation at Manning's for brunch; do you think you could use it? I hate to break up your morning with Jessa, but I simply cannot do without her."

  Robert huffed, but the temptation of an exclusive restaurant reservation distracted him.

  "I was planning to meet the Brewers. Only you will do as a substitute," my mother said. She was a genius of diplomacy, appealing to Robert's snobbery as well as his inflated sense of worth.

  He smiled and dropped my arm. "For you, Mrs. Lauren, anything," he said. Then he turned to me. "Will talk about all of this later. First I'll discuss it with your father."

  My mother whipped her hand in a dismissive wave. "Mr. Lauren is not here. Best get to the restaurant. You have the best taste in champagne, much better than Mr. Brewer's, and I know I can count on you to choose the best from the menu."

  Robert frowned, both flattered and frustrated that his ire would not be vindicated immediately. Still, he dropped a slight bow to my mother and headed back down the steps.

  I was relieved to see that Dayton's friend had herded him back inside their trailer office and out of sight. I watched as Robert trotted down the steps, already yelling at Jeffers, and felt the icy grip in my chest loosened just a bit.

  "Oh, Mother, thank you," I smiled. "Did you see--"

  "Jessa, please. I don't have it in me to hear about silly lovers' quarrels this morning," my mother replied.

  "What's the matter?"

  My mother shook her head and pulled me into my father's office building. Estrella Lauren was known for her poise, but she leaned on me heavily as we headed for the elevators.

  "Father's not here?" I asked as she pushed the button for the penthouse.

  Estrella shook her head, her dark sunglasses still firmly in place. "He moved his meeting to his yacht. Or so they tell me."

  I felt a clutch in my chest. My father loved his yacht as a status symbol, but he got seasick even at the dock. It was possible that it was the truth, but something sounded off. Between that news and my mother's puffy eyes, I felt a sudden stab of worry.

  Was my parents' marriage in trouble?

  The elevator doors opened on the penthouse office, and my mother swept us past the receptionist. She ignored my father's personal assistant completely and shut the heavy office doors loudly behind us.

  "Mother, you're worrying me. What's the matter?" I asked again.

  Estrella took off her sunglasses and tossed them on my father's wide mahogany desk. She then went to the window and peered out over San Francisco's Financial District.

  "What was that little scene with you and Robert?" my mother asked.

  Tears stung my eyes. "Nothing. He was upset that I have been working to furnish the renovations with authentic finishings."

  "You're working?" my mother asked. She spun around and looked at me. "It seemed a bit more dramatic than that."

  "Dayton, I mean, the foreman, didn't like the way Robert was speaking to me and he stepped in."

  "Robert has a cruel streak." My mother sighed. "Everyone can see it though he thinks he's so subtle."

  The tears I had blinked back spilled over. "It was horrible, Mother. I've never felt so inconsequential in my life."

  My mother caught me up in a rare embrace. "Inconsequential. Oh, my dear, I know how you feel."

  Before I could ask what she meant, my mother released me. Then the buzzer on my father's desk went off and made us both jump.

  "There's a Dayton Miller here to see you," my father's assistant announced.

  My mother smoothed the fair skin under her eyes and then stabbed the intercom button with one perfectly manicured finger. "Show him in."

  I only had time enough to turn around and swipe my tears away before Dayton strode into the office.

  "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to interrupt," Dayton said. "I thought Mr. Lauren would want to speak with me."

  "About the incident outside?" my mother asked. "You've come to apologize?"

  I turned around and hoped Dayton wouldn't notice my eyes. His head was down, examining the carpet as he stood in front of my mother. His fists were clenched, but he was clearly there to make an apology.

  Then he looked up.

  There was no doubt he saw the faint traces of tears on my cheeks because Dayton let out a low growl. My mother's hand flew to her chest in surprise. All I could do was stand miserable and embarrassed behind her.

  Dayton skirted around my mother. "Are you all right, Jessa?" he asked.

  I nodded, mortified.

  "Liar," he said. He gently took my arm and examined my bruised elbow. Then he spun to my mother and snarled, "
did you know he treats her this way?"

  My mother dropped her hand to her side in indignation. "Certainly not. Robert is a well-bred man, and we thought he was a good match for Jessa, but as of today, he is on notice."

  "Notice?" Dayton snorted. "He'll be on a respirator if he touches her again."

  My mother surprised us both with a sudden smile. "Mr. Miller, was it? I think you'll agree we could all use a drink. Would you be so kind?"

  He narrowed his eyes at my mother but gave her a slight nod and headed to the bar cart my father kept in the corner of his expansive office.

  When he was out of earshot, my mother asked, "this is the man you've been working with?"

  "It's not like that, Mother," I insisted.

  "Well, perhaps it should be. He seems quite devoted to you."

  I was shocked. More than Robert's inexcusable behavior, more than the bruising on my arm, and more than Dayton's fierce response, my mother's quiet suggestion shocked me to my core. Estrella Lauren had never sided with anyone outside her social circle.

  "Please, call me Dayton." He returned with three crystal glasses of aged Scotch.

  "A bit bracing before lunch but I think we could all use it," my mother said. She raised a glass to Dayton. "Here's to common decency."

  I took a sip of my drink and coughed as it heated my esophagus. It joined a spreading warmth in my chest that I hadn't noticed before. Just being near Dayton had thawed the cold grip.

  "I should still apologize for losing my cool," Dayton said.

  My mother smiled and gestured to the soft leather sofas that formed a sitting room on one side of my father's office. "I'd rather hear you tell me about the renovations. I hear my Jessa has a part in all this commotion."

  "You should be proud, Mrs. Lauren. Jessa has tracked down some truly amazing pieces for the building. Including a chandelier whose wiring doesn't have to be held together with electrical tape," Dayton said and then smiled at me.

  My cheeks warmed. "You should thank my mother. Her contacts at Sotheby's have made my job very easy."

  "To the Lauren ladies." Dayton raised his glass.

  "Please, call me Estrella," my mother said.