The TROUBLE With BILLIONAIRES: Book 1 (15 page)

BOOK: The TROUBLE With BILLIONAIRES: Book 1
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“Not officially. I know none of the administration staff are working. But on your way up to Dr. Giordano, just ask her to help quiet the room when it’s time for him to speak. The problem with celebrities is that they don’t want to share the room with anyone else.”

Leave it to Russell to find a complaint in a near flawless party.

“I will, but isn’t that a job for the event manager? What are we paying him for if we’re doing all the work?”

“You would think, but Conrad has managed to charm the event manager so much and put him so at ease, the guy has forgotten he has a job to do,” Russell grumbled.

Conrad. He still perplexed me. As far as I could tell, he hadn’t done anything untrustworthy regarding the product launch—much to my relief. However, I couldn’t simply forget the sticky note, not when it had been so strategically placed.

After doing what Russell asked, I went up the stairs and found Dr. Giordano in his private suite—the guest of honor. I knew instantly that he was outside of his element. He fidgeted nervously with a bow tie, which hung slightly to the side.

“Here,” I said, fixing it. “We’re quite the distance from your farmhouse.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Is there someone watching over your donkey?”

Dr. Giordano grimaced. “That old thing? He can take care of himself. Much better than I, apparently.”

“You seem to be doing pretty well. We’re only here because of you.”

He nodded. “In many ways, we’re only here because of you.”

I stepped back and brushed off his shoulders. “What do you mean by that?”

“Signor Jackman never would have agreed to my terms without your persuasion.”

“Well, he would have been a fool not to. Based on the crowd gathered on the streets, your telescope is going to fly off the shelves tomorrow.”

“That’s all I wanted.”

We continued to chat until I heard Russell signal on my earpiece to bring Dr. Giordano down. A warm applause waited for him when he stepped onto the stage.

“Clearly, you recognize the man of the hour,” the CEO of Cepheus Scientific said, speaking into the microphone. Her long gray-streaked hair was pinned up in a classic French bun. “So with the greatest of honor, I introduce to you Dr. Francesco Giordano.”

Again, the audience cheered. Dr. Giordano took his turn at the microphone, fidgeting with it as he had his bow tie. While we waited for him to speak, I looked out over the crowd, trying to find Rawn. Mellissa and Annie were suspiciously close to Logan Mitchell’s table. On the opposite side of the room stood Conrad and Ms. Goldstein. But there was no Rawn.

A sudden flush across my body caused me to stagger. It wasn’t the good kind of flush. It was the massively lightheaded, I’m-about-to-faint kind. Standing in the unlit corner of the stage, there was nowhere to sit, so I began flapping my hand to cool myself off, recovering right as Dr. Giordano started his speech.

“I’m not a sad man,” he began, “but as happy as I am to see so many here for the launch of my telescope, I have to admit that I’m sad today. Alessandra Giordano was my wife. But as an individual, she was so much more. I worshiped her. She was kind and she was clever, and she was also patient. Such patience was mandatory to live a life with me. But overall, she was a little insane, a meteor burning through life. And I loved her more for it. We didn’t have children; all we had was each other. It was enough. She was enough. But then she left. Not by choice, but that is the risk of mortality. She left, and I was left with nothing to remind me of her. Until I realized that with so many stars in the sky, it was impossible that Alessandra wasn’t up there with them. And so here’s my telescope. When you look through the lens, look for my Alessandra.”

 

***

 

“Why don’t you get something to eat,” Russell said as I returned to the station having just seen the fashion model safely to her limo out back. She had been an incredibly down to earth woman, and the first real celebrity I had ever talked to.

“Thanks,” I said. “What about you? You’ll be leaving soon.”

“We both know that’s not going to happen, so go eat. The sooner you do, the sooner you can come back and help. I have another to-do list for you.”

Of course he did.

I went to the buffet, my stomach growling. The food smelled amazing. There was Cajun shrimp and sushi and gourmet mushroom rolls—a fusion of all the foods under the sun. I even had Captain Mark ship up some of his cheesy casserole.

Thank goodness we left baby eel off the menu.

I could feel the void in my stomach, but the rich aroma that surrounded me made me nauseated, as delicious as it was, so I went outside to the garden to get some fresh air.

The garden really was splendid, with fairy lights in the shape of stars that hung around the trellises, tall hedges, and statues. The soft moonlight made the colors within the garden glow, from the lavender to the roses, their petals slowly giving way to the cool late autumn air. It was nearly winter now.

“Man, you guys really went into a lot of detail,” a man said.

I turned and nearly wet myself. It was Logan Mitchell! Knowing Annie would kill me if she missed this opportunity to talk with him, I tried to send her psychic best friend signals to come out to the garden.

Annie! Logan’s here! And he looks good! Come seduce him, you brassy vixen.

“The meteor shower won’t start for another hour or so,” I said, because it was the only thing I could think to say. “You should have received your complimentary telescope as part of your gift bag. The meteors move too fast across the sky to view them in 3D, but it should still make for interesting viewing.”

My god, was I really speaking to Logan Mitchell as if I were a robot manufactured in the lab at Cepheus Scientific?

He seemed amused. “Would you like to take a walk around the garden with me? I have a feeling you are much better company than some of the others I’ve been talking with tonight. Their interests…don’t suit me. Not anymore.”

I was confused at first by what he meant, and then I remembered. After almost overdosing last year, Logan had spent his time in and out of rehab.

“Sure,” I said, although I still felt weak. “A quick walk. Then I have to return to my post.”

“I saw you on the stage,” Logan noted as we passed through the tall hedges, the mansion house disappearing behind us. “Are you related to the Italian guy that gave the speech?”

With his gray hair and olive skin, and my dark honey-colored hair, the idea of me and Dr. Giordano being related was highly comical. I nearly laughed, holding back only out of fear of hurting Logan’s feelings. I didn’t know what trying to be sober after a heavy addiction felt like, but I assumed it made emotions run high.

“No,” I said. “I’m not related to the inventor. I am an assistant at Cepheus Scientific.” When he frowned out of a lack of understanding, I added, “The company manufacturing the telescope. We’re hosting the party tonight.”

Logan scratched his head, embarrassed. I didn’t realize celebrities got embarrassed, especially hot ones like him.

“Yeah, sorry. I have a short attention span. I go to so many of these things, it’s hard to keep track.”

“That’s understandable,” I said. “And enviable. I’d love to be jetting off to one red carpet event after the next.”

“Trust me, you wouldn’t. So many invitations takes the excitement out of everything. I know that sounds ungrateful, but it’s the reality of being on screen.”

I liked the way he avoided calling himself a movie star. “Did you work with a lot of scientists when you did the space travel movie?”

Logan chuckled. “Not at all. Just a lot of special effects people. I think NASA named it one of the most implausible science movies of all time.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be. It’s broken box office records. Because of that movie, I’ve been offered a hundred more.” He stopped. “Hey, are you okay? You’re shaking.”

Engrossed in our conversation, I hadn’t noticed. But now that he had called it out, my hand did seem to be having trouble remaining still.

“Here, sit,” he said, guiding me to the side of a fountain. It was a replica of Botticelli’s Venus.

Filling my hand with the cold water from the fountain, I splashed my face, trying to regain control of my body, pushing away the fear that was growing at the pit of my stomach.

Please no
, I prayed, looking up at the stars—to my sister.
I know I have no right to ask, but please, not me too.

“You’ve gone pale,” Logan said, setting a hand on my cheek, testing for a fever. “Should I call for a doctor?”

Just then, Rawn broke through the hedges. “What is this?” he demanded, irate.

“I was just trying to help,” Logan began, but I cut him off, realizing how bad it looked.

“It’s okay, Logan. You don’t have to explain. Do you mind giving us a minute?”

He looked uncertainly at Rawn, then back at me. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I will be,” I assured him.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll be inside if you need anything.”

“She won’t,” Rawn snapped.

When Logan was gone, he turned back to me, full of hurt and fury. “I was upstairs conferencing with the CEO when I saw you go into the garden with him. Is this another midnight lover of yours? A new fantasy—to fuck a movie star during the meteor shower?”

Luke. This was about Luke. I should have known better than to think Rawn had handled me telling him about Luke so well.

I should have explained, told Rawn that he hadn’t walked in on Logan making a move on me, that the actor was merely concerned I wasn’t well, which I wasn’t. But I didn’t. Trust went both ways. If I started spilling out excuses now, I was afraid I’d always have to.

“What does it matter to you, anyway?” I challenged, converting my fear over my health into an irrational anger. “You’ve told me yourself you won’t commit to me, that you can never give me what I deserve. That I can never fully have you. So why play jealous now when, one day, you plan to let me go?”

The fury in Rawn died instantly, but my own did not.

“Madison, I know being with me is complicated, but you must know… I love you.”

“Do you?” I countered, standing to meet him, not allowing myself to process his words. “Because you have a poor way of showing it.”

It wasn’t true. He had showed me his love many times. With the trip to Hawaii. His endless nights pleasing me in bed. But I didn’t acknowledge it. This relationship had gone on long enough. I knew it wasn’t meant to last a lifetime. Not Rawn’s lifetime, anyway. Based on what was happening with my body tonight, it was time to bring the relationship to an end.

“Madison,” Rawn began, full of conviction.

I didn’t hear what else he had to say. The world suddenly went black around me as I collapsed to the ground.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

Struggling to open my eyes, I was vaguely aware that I was in Rawn’s arms. And that he was walking into a hospital.

It’s happening…

Unable to speak, I nestled my head into the warmth of his chest, comforted by his strength. I needed it. I wasn’t sure I had much strength of my own.

“She needs help,” Rawn called out to a nurse.

“You’ll have to sign her in,” the nurse instructed. My eyes were closed, so I could not see her face, but I could hear the impatience in her voice.

“She’s barely conscious,” Rawn told her. “She collapsed…”

“Mr. Jackman,” another female said, interrupting. “Please follow me. We’ll look after her straight away.”

“Thank you,” Rawn said. “I don’t mean to take you away from your other patients, Dr. Phelps. I’m just afraid of losing her.”

“We won’t let that happen. And no need to apologize. Half the reason the patients here receive the excellent care that they do is thanks to the large benefaction we receive from Cepheus Scientific every year.”

Rawn walked fast. In my semi-conscious state, I could smell the sharp bleach from the cleaning supplies, and I could hear the sound of a metal stretcher clanking as it was pushed down the hall, away from us.

“Tell me what happened,” Dr. Phelps prompted.

“I don’t know. We were outside in the garden of the mansion house, and she collapsed.”

“What was she doing right before she collapsed? Was she dancing or doing anything equally strenuous?”

“No,” Rawn answered. “But we were arguing.”

The guilt in his voice killed me.
Don’t
, I wanted to say.
This isn’t your fault. I pushed you away. I didn’t want you to go through this.

“Any known ailments she suffers from? Any allergies? Any diseases?”

“I don’t think so. She’s never mentioned any. But we haven’t known each other long.”

I should have told him the night in Hawaii, when I knew his feelings for me were real.

Knowing it was important, I tried to speak.

“Shhh now,” Rawn told me. “Save your energy.”

I wanted to obey, but I couldn’t. They both had to know. So I tried again. This time, the doctor understood.

“MS,” she said. “She has MS.”

 

***

 

Multiple sclerosis. I hated the word. It had caused enough destruction in my life. It had taken my sister…

“You’re awake,” Rawn said, entering the hospital room with flowers.

“Just barely,” I told him, smiling weakly. “Have you been here all night?” From my window, the sun was rising.

“Of course,” he said, his tone casual, as if the answer was obvious. “I would never leave you here alone.”

I was touched, so much so that it took me a moment before I could speak again. “What about my family? Do they know I’m here?”

“No,” Rawn admitted. “I don’t know where your phone is. The only person who knows you’re here is me. I jumped in a car with you as soon as you collapsed. I was afraid an ambulance would take too long.”

“It’s okay,” I said, settling into my pillow. “It’s for the best. I don’t want anyone to worry.”

Setting the flowers down, he sat next to me on the bed. “Because of your sister?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened.”

I didn’t want to. It was too painful. And it raised too many fears about my own future.

When I turned my head to look out the window without responding, he said, “Let me tell you something painful about me first. Then maybe you’ll feel more comfortable sharing about yourself. As you know, I’m quite close to my father. I admire him greatly. Perhaps it’s because, even as a boy, I saw the value of his work. He was helping humanity progress, evolve. I thought him a hero. Whenever he missed any of my baseball games, and he did, a lot, I didn’t mind. To me, it would have been like resenting Superman because he had a planet to save. I knew why he spent long hours away from home.

“My mom was not so understanding. Not as the years went by. Initially, I think she just missed him. They had been best friends when they married. I know because I’ve seen the photos. They were so in love. And you can’t hide love from a photo. But as the years went on, my mother grew lonely. She didn’t want another man. She just wanted him back—my father. She was greatly unhappy, but she refused to divorce him. Her faith didn’t allow it. So she drank. She lost herself in a bottle to numb out the sense of abandonment she felt regarding my father’s frequent absence.

“Alcohol nearly destroyed her. It did destroy her, for many years. I watched it do so. To me, every bottle of wine in the house, every beer can, was the enemy. It went on for years until, thankfully, my aunt from California stepped in. She was a widow, so she had some idea of what my mother was going through. She helped her sober up, and then she encouraged her to join all sorts of groups, from yachting to book club, anything that helped her loneliness lessen. It was almost as if my mother was going through a grieving process. She was grieving the marriage she no longer had. But my aunt helped. And eventually, my mother found her peace. But it wasn’t a happy ending. Just a resolution. At least until my father retired. Now, things are better.”

I absorbed everything he said, as if his words were water. “You played baseball?” I asked, smiling.

He returned my smile. “That’s what you took from that story?”

It wasn’t. I’d gotten everything from that story. Rawn Jackman suddenly made a whole lot more sense. “That’s why you don’t want to hurt the one you love by promising what you can’t give her.”

“It’s why I don’t want to hurt you,” he corrected. “You’re the one I love.”

“And I love you,” I proclaimed sincerely. “It’s why I started pushing you away last night. I knew I was feeling ill. Logan knew it, too. He was only trying to make sure I was okay. But when you found us sitting next to the fountain together, I used it as an opportunity to let you go so that you didn’t have to go through this.” I spread my hands out, indicating the hospital room.

He looked relieved. “You could have told me. I wouldn’t have left you.”

“But I might one day leave you. I could have the same fate as my sister.”

“I’m still not going anywhere. But help me to understand. If you’re not ready to talk about your sister, tell me what MS is. Don’t hold back the details. I’m a grown man. I can handle it.”

Yes you are
, I thought. Even as I lay sick in the hospital, Rawn still managed to turn me on. I had met many handsome men in recent days, but he was by far the sexiest.

“MS isn’t necessarily hereditary, but you can be genetically predisposed to it. My great-grandmother had multiple sclerosis, so it was in our family. Not much is known about it. At least not as much as what needs to be known. Fundamentally, it’s a disease that makes the immune system attack the nerve fibers of the nervous system, which disrupts communication between the brain and the spinal cord. It can cause tremors, spasms, weakness, vision problems… There are lots of symptoms.”

“How were you diagnosed?” Rawn asked, taking my hand.

I didn’t want to recall that time, but I did. “When I was eighteen, I was constantly tired. It was my senior year of high school, and I had always been a good student with no history of attendance problems, but I just could not get myself up for class. At first, my parents thought I was experiencing a personal issue at school, perhaps with a boy or bullies. Or they thought I was depressed because I was missing my sister, Allison, who was away at college. My sister and I had always been close, two birds in the same tree top. I did miss her, but I wasn’t depressed. Something was physically wrong with me. When I was finally able to convince my parents of this, they took me to the doctor. I went through a lot of tests, including an MRI, which showed lesions in my brain indicative of MS.”

“So you were diagnosed before your sister?”

He was easing me into discussing Allison, but I didn’t mind. Now that I was talking about my history and MS, I was ready to tell him everything. “I only have a mild case. The fatigue comes and goes, but it’s manageable. I live in constant fear my MS will progress, but so far I’ve been lucky. My sister wasn’t. A year after I was diagnosed, she started to experience the same fatigue. And then she temporarily lost vision in one eye, followed by nightly spasms. It got so bad, she had to defer her year at school and come home. This was two years ago. She was twenty-one, the age I am now. Her symptoms got worse, until one night she had trouble breathing.” I stopped, tears filling my eyes.

“Take your time,” Rawn said softly, squeezing my hand.

When I could speak again, I continued. “The doctors said she had a rare form of MS, one that was severe and progressed rapidly. Allison was confined to a wheelchair and hooked up to an oxygen tube. God, she was so brave. She refused to cry. Instead, she made us watch comedies and listen to Christmas songs. She said that they were the most cheerful.”

“She sounds wonderful,” Rawn said.

“She was. But her positive outlook wasn’t enough. She got pneumonia, which compromised her system… She didn’t recover. She died in the hospital due to complications.”

Now that the story was out, I let my tears flow freely. Rawn took me into his arms. “I only have a mild case of MS, but I constantly worry the same thing will happen to me. I don’t want to die.” I shuddered in his arms. “I want to live until I’m a fiery granny like Betty White. But it’s not my choice.”

There was no comfort Rawn could give, but it was okay. Him holding me was enough. I didn’t know how long he held me. It felt like years. He never let go, not until the door to my room burst open.

Annie stormed in, still wearing her red dress—my red dress—looking frantic. “Oh thank god,” she gasped, pushing Rawn out of the way so she could hug me. “Girl, you scared me.”

“How did you find me?” I asked, a fresh wave of tears falling. I loved Rawn, but Annie was a steady face. She’d seen me through everything.

“I had assumed you left with Rawn, but when I went to collect my stuff from the coat room, I saw your purse was still there, so I asked around. No one seemed to know anything until I talked to a limo driver. He said his buddy had driven you to the hospital. So I came.”

I hoped Annie knew just how much I loved her. I held her tight, telling her so. Then I asked, “The party just ended?”

“It’s still going,” she informed me. “Russell is too afraid to kick the celebrities out. The cast of that space movie won’t leave. Except for Logan Mitchell,” she said sadly. “He’s vanished.” She shook her head. “But never mind all that. Is it…”

Annie had never been able to say the disease out loud. Not since Allison died. I suspected that she was afraid it would somehow make it worse.

“It’s not your MS,” Dr. Phelps said, walking into the room. I recognized her voice. Now that I was fully awake, I could see she was a middle-aged brunette with kind but tired eyes. “Hi, Madison, I don’t know if you remember me from last night?”

“I do, Dr. Phelps. Thank you for seeing me so quickly.”

“No worries,” she said, checking my IV. “Your test results are in. There’s nothing too abnormal. You were severely dehydrated, but the IV is taking care of that. I believe your episode last night to be a mix of dehydration, poor diet, and exhaustion. Nothing directly related to your MS. Just working for a busy company like Cepheus Scientific. But because of your MS, you do have to manage yourself better. You can’t become a vampire like Mr. Jackman here.”

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t,” he said, gazing at me with the greatest of affection. “I’ll take care of her.”

“Ew,” Annie groaned next to me. “This is too sweet to handle. Does that mean you’re coming home?”

“I’d like to keep her here for one more night,” Dr. Phelps said. “For observations. And to make sure she has a chance to rest.”

“I think that’s wise,” Rawn agreed. “She won’t be going anywhere.”

“No,” I said, looking at him with purpose. “I won’t.”

Dr. Phelps smirked into my file before she left the room, but I didn’t mind. It was a perfect moment in an imperfect setting. I was elated that my MS wasn’t progressing. And I was happy to have Rawn by my side. It was bittersweet. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I recognized that Rawn had not yet taken back his vow not to commit himself to the one he loved…to me. But I pushed it aside to enjoy this one, glorious moment.

“I told you that you had to stop worrying so much about your medical bills,” Annie said, walking to the flowers so that Rawn could reclaim his seat by my side. She picked out a white blossom from the bouquet and put it behind her ear. “You put yourself under too much pressure sometimes. The bills are getting paid. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself to the company just yet.”

“Annie!” I protested. I didn’t want Rawn to know about my family’s debts.

“What?” she asked innocently. “I just assumed he knew.”

“Well, he didn’t,” I hissed between my teeth, even though Rawn was right next to me.

Rawn looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or lecture me. “So that’s why you graduated early? You wanted to work so you could pay off medical bills?”

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