Barefoot Bay: The Billionaire's Convenient Secret (Kindle Worlds Novella) (11 page)

“How could you, Josh? Or is it Joshua?” she corrected, because everyone in the world knew him by his full name. “How could you lie to me like that?”

“I never lied.” Josh’s jaw flexed. The hand that had cupped hers withdrew, and the air around him took on a crystalline quality, as if the temperature had plummeted. “Not once.”

“Maybe not in so many words, but you pretended to be someone you aren’t. You let me think you needed my help when you don’t.” She had to make him understand what he’d done. She’d given him her heart and put her career on the line for him. She had trusted him. The owners of other mini-marts had done the same. And for what? Josh could buy and sell their stores ten times over and never even notice a dip in his financial statements. “Was this all some kind of game to you?”

“Never,” he said firmly. “You know I’d never do that.”

Laughter bordering on tears slipped out as she retreated to her side of the booth. “The truth is, I don’t know whether you would or you wouldn’t. I don’t know you at all. Not the real you.” Josh, or Joshua, or whatever he called himself, was the latest in a long line of men who had lied to her, beginning with her dad. He’d insisted he could make a go of farming right up to the very minute the sheriff evicted them from their land. “I want you to leave now.”

She thought her tone conveyed that the matter was not open for discussion, but Josh only leaned closer. “You don’t mean that. We love each other. We can work this out.”

“No, Josh. I don’t think we can,” she insisted. She forced herself to say what had to be said. “You lied to me. I can’t trust you. It’s over between us.”

For one brief instant, pain flashed across Josh’s face as the impact of what she was saying hit home. Before she could take another breath, before she could retract her words, his expression shuttered. Casually, he swiped his napkin across his lips and let the cloth drop to the table.

“And the meeting tomorrow?” he asked, a hurt that didn’t show on his face filling his voice. “You’ll still go, won’t you? You won’t let all the work we’ve done be for nothing.”

She took a deep breath and clamped her teeth down on her lower lip. No matter what had happened between her and Josh, Favor Oil’s plan to take over the mini-marts was still wrong. “I’ll think about it,” she said finally. “Now please leave before I make a scene.”

Heaven help her, a part of her wanted him to stay. To sweep her into his arms and swear that as long as they loved each other, everything would be okay. But she guessed he had too much pride. Either that, or he didn’t really love her. Because, other than a slight rounding of his shoulders, he edged out of the booth.

“I’ll pick you up in the morning, then,” he said and walked away as if he didn’t care. She held her breath, wishing he’d come back, until his footsteps faded into the distance. When she was sure he was really gone, she caught the attention of the waiter lingering in the shadows. One fat tear slid down her cheek and splashed onto the cake as she signaled for the bill. She stared down at the puddle of melting ice cream and wished she’d never come to Mimosa Key.

Chapter Six

Dammit. The truth had literally been on the tip of his tongue before Nate interrupted him. All he’d needed was five more minutes. Five more lousy minutes, and he’d have come clean about himself. But did he get them? That would be a big fat
no
.

Dammit. Dammit. Damn. It.

Stalking out of Junonia, Josh muttered enough curses that the valet eyed him from a safe distance. Not that he blamed the kid. Or anyone else, for that matter. Even on Mimosa Key, something like this was bound to happen. So, yeah, he’d known his good ol’ boy charade wouldn’t hold up much longer. But it had felt so right to go on pretending he and Charlie were simply a normal couple out on a nice, normal date that he’d waited just a little bit too long to be completely honest with her.

Now he’d made a mess of things and hurt the one person in the world he’d never meant to harm. The pain he’d seen on Charlie’s face as the truth sank in had cut him like a pair of pruning shears. But he refused to believe it was over between them. Yeah, he’d walked way, a move he’d regretted before his feet hit the pavers outside Junonia. And he’d do anything, spend the rest of his life trying to make up for his mistake…if she’d give him a chance.

Which brought him around to those pesky five minutes again. That was all he needed. Five minutes to apologize. Five minutes to shower Charlie with roses, to ply her with champagne and caviar, to explain why he’d needed her to fall in love with the man who worked behind the counter at his aunt’s convenience store before she discovered the side of him that drew women like magnets and rattled nerves in boardrooms.

She’d give him that much time, wouldn’t she?

He nodded. She had to. He ran a hand through his hair for the umpteenth time since Charlie had kicked him out of the restaurant. Once they were on their way to Orlando, they’d be trapped in the car together for two hours. Surely, in that amount of time, he could convince her to give him a second chance.

Now that the blinders were off, though, there wasn’t much point in continuing to fly under the radar. Steering his aunt’s old sedan onto the main road, he speed-dialed his assistant in Atlanta. In seconds, he’d arranged for a car and driver to pick him up at Charity’s in the morning. By the time he disconnected, he’d been assured that a selection of suits and the necessary accoutrements along with a very special item from his safe-deposit box would be delivered well before his scheduled departure. As for tonight, he’d spend it rehearsing the most important, five-minute speech of his life.

But at Casa Blanca the next morning, a thin young woman bustled out of the Rockrose carrying an armload of linens just as his foot hit the first step leading to the deck surrounding the villa. Josh crossed quickly to the door and held it for her.

“Could you let Ms. Oak know her ride’s here?” he asked as she stuffed towels and sheets into a laundry bag hanging from her cart.

“There’s no one inside.” The girl, Robyn, according to her name tag, consulted a slip of paper on a sturdy clipboard. “Says here the Rockrose is vacant till next week.”

“You’re sure?” He peered through the open doorway. Not a trace remained of the presentation he and Charlie had slaved over. The blankets and pillows were missing from the couch. Her laptop had disappeared. His heart sank.

“Maybe she’ll meet you in the lobby?” Robyn’s eyes were hopeful.

“Yeah. That must be it.” He stopped himself before he gave the woman his signature salute. “Thanks,” he said, turning away before she saw his heart break. He’d stop by the registration desk and check with Lacey, but he knew he was too late. He’d missed his chance to make amends. Charlie was gone.

“Where to, Mr. McLean?” the driver asked when Josh slid onto the backseat a short while later.

“Orlando. The W&B offices.” His heart might be broken in two, but he had no choice. To save his aunt’s business and those of the other mini-mart owners, he had to attend the meeting.

Would Charlie be there?

Realizing their breakup might have prompted a complete change of heart, he gulped. If she didn’t show, he’d have to present their case on his own even though, without Charlie at his side, without her notes and facts and figures, his chance of success was less than that of a California red in a French wine tasting.

Clearly, he needed a backup plan.

Putting his emotions on hold for the moment, he slipped his phone from a coat pocket and scrolled through his contacts to select a number. “Steve,” he said when an old friend picked up the call on the first ring.

“Josh, you son of a gun. It’s been too long. What’s up?”

He didn’t bother shooting the breeze but got straight to the point. All those late nights he’d spent helping his college roommate understand the fine points of econometrics were about to pay dividends. Following graduation, Steve had blazed a trail through the corporate ranks of Shell Oil, making him the right man to resolve at least one of Josh’s problems. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh, yeah? What can I do for you?”

“Remember a couple of years ago, when gas prices went through the roof?” On the other side of tinted windows, a doting father pushed a baby stroller along the sidewalk in downtown Mimosa Key. Josh’s stomach clenched. Yesterday, he’d dared to dream of children and a future with Charlie. A mere twenty-four hours later, the years ahead stretched bleak and lonely. He swallowed and turned his attention to the conversation.

“How could I forget?” Steve asked. “We’re still digging out from that one. Once gas hit three-fifty a gallon, people started car pools. They bought bicycles or turned to public transportation. Demand fell, and we lost some of our most productive franchises.”

“Tell me about it. My aunt’s was one of them. Favor Oil gave her what looked like a better offer at the time. Now, though, Favor is applying pressure, and she’s about to lose everything. I was hoping you’d look into getting her Shell Oil contract renewed.” The car tires set up a rhythmic beat as the driver headed across the bridge spanning the bay to Naples.

“We’re talking about your aunt Charity, Charity Grambling, on Mimosa Key, right?” Steve didn’t wait for an answer. From the other end of the line came the sound of fingers typing on a keyboard. A thirty-second eternity later, his friend said the words Josh had been hoping to hear. “That station was one of our biggest performers. We were sorry to lose it.”

Josh smiled tightly at the first piece of good news he’d heard since Charlie called it quits between them. “So you think you could bring her back on board?”

“She’d have to pay the franchise fees.” Even among friends, business was business.

“Send the bill to me. I’ll take care of it.” After Steve’s awestruck whistle filled his ear, he added, “She’s my aunt. What can I say?” He’d do anything for the people he loved.

“In that case, consider her back in the Shell Oil fold.”

The news was better than he’d expected and certainly worth celebrating, but his concerns about Charlie outweighed everything else—even the Super Min’s fate. In all likelihood, the woman he’d loved and lost would lose her job over the Favor Oil account. Since he was at least partly responsible, he had an obligation to square things for her, whether she ever forgave him or not. He tightened his hold on the phone. “There’s one more thing. I’m going to send you Charlotte Oak’s résumé. She’s a, ah, a good friend who’s gone out on a very thin limb to help my aunt.”

“And you can’t hire her yourself?” An incredulous note crept into Steve’s voice. He, like practically everyone else in America, had seen the
Forbes
article. “Surely you have an opening for her somewhere.”

“She, um…” The words lodged in Josh’s throat, and he cleared it. “We’re not exactly speaking at the moment.”

“Oh.” Such a simple word but one that was freighted with understanding. “I guess you want this pretty bad, huh?” Asking a favor for a close relative was one thing, but anything more was a line Josh had never crossed.

“Yeah,” he admitted, not proud of the role he’d played in ruining Charlie’s career.

“Bad enough to part with, say, a certain Romanée-Conti?” Into the silence that followed, Steve added, “I’ll pay the going rate for it, of course.”

Josh winced. “You drive a hard bargain.” But not an unexpected one. Steve had been angling to get his hands on that particular bottle of pinot noir ever since Josh outbid him when it came up at auction. “Yeah, the Romanée-Conti is yours.”

“Okay, then. Tell her she’s got the job.”

“That’s not what I’m asking, and you know it,” Josh corrected. “She’ll want to be taken on her own merit. She’d have my hide otherwise.” If she ever spoke to him again, that was.

“Just so you know, I’d hire anyone you recommended, sight unseen. The DRC is just icing on the cake,” Steve said, referring to the tiny corner of France known for its outstanding wines. “But we’ll do it your way. I’ll bring her in, interview her, take her through all the hoops. As a matter of fact, I’ve been looking for a new assistant here in the Houston office.”

Josh’s heart, which had been rolling around in his stomach, sank even lower. Houston was so very far away from his home base, but there was nothing for it. He owed Charlie this opportunity. “I’ll have the wine crated and delivered by the end of the week,” he said, sealing the deal while he mentally penciled in a trip to his vault to oversee the transfer. Little did Steve know, he’d do more than part with a single bottle, no matter how much it cost, if it meant making amends with the woman he loved.

For that, he’d empty his entire wine cellar.

As they sped through an area where the skeletal remains of an old orange grove stretched for miles, Josh shook his head at the irony of his situation. Over the years, he’d come close to walking down the aisle a couple of times, but he’d never once considered sharing a glass of Romanée-Conti with his bride…until he met Charlie. Now that he’d finally found a woman worthy of cracking open one of the world’s most expensive wines, he’d lost them both.

Unable to delay the inevitable heartache any longer, he leaned his head against the leather seat. Through all the sleepless hours last night, he’d held the pain at bay by convincing himself he’d win Charlie back. But when she hadn’t been there waiting for him at the Rockrose this morning, he’d known. Known deep in his soul that he’d lost her forever. Pain rippled through his chest. His eyes closed. Tears dampened his cheeks.

By the time the driver pulled to the curb in downtown Orlando two hours later, he’d regained enough control to make it through the presentation, though he suspected a breakdown was in his near future. Inside a building filled with gilt and glass, he forced himself to march across W&B’s marble floor. He approached an imposing reception desk, his footsteps keeping time with the thudding regularity of his broken heart. He was so caught up in a sense of loss, he nearly missed the way a pleasant enough admin turned on the charm the moment she heard his name. Almost, but not quite. Straightening, he allowed himself one brief moment of regret for the anonymity he’d left behind on Mimosa Key before his instincts for self-preservation kicked in.

“I’m sure I can find the conference room if you’ll just point me in the right direction,” he said, preferring his own self-pitying company to that of yet another predatory shark.

“Oh, I couldn’t let you go alone, Joshua. You don’t mind if I call you Joshua, do you? You can call me Belinda.” A pair of patently false eyelashes batted at him. Grasping fingers clutched his upper arm as Belinda steered him toward a bank of elevators. “If there’s anything I can do for you while you’re here”—the woman who’d plastered herself to his side raised a suggestive eyebrow—“anything at all, just ask for me.”

Apparently oblivious to the bevy of briefcase-toting workers already on their car, Belinda chattered nonstop the whole ride while Josh concentrated on edging away whenever she crowded too close. By the time they reached the top floor, he’d had enough of her shenanigans and stepped smartly from the elevator. Turning, he extricated himself from Belinda’s clinging fingers.

“I can take it from here,” he said, body-blocking her path. He shuddered the instant the doors closed in her face and fanned the air where Belinda’s cloying perfume lingered. With the meeting due to start in a few minutes, he squared his shoulders. Striding into the partners’ conference room, he swept the long, polished wood surface with a single glance. Wait staff bustled about placing elegant blue bottles and tall tumblers before empty chairs while his hope that Charlie might be waiting for him ebbed.

He started when a soft cough drew his attention to the far corner. Turning slowly, he felt his heart lurch. “Charlie,” he breathed as relief rushed over him. “I’m so glad to see you. I was afraid you wouldn’t be here.”

“Of course, I’m here. I wouldn’t let what happened between us stand in the way of doing the right thing.” Rising, she skimmed a hand over a short, black skirt that hugged her curves. “I have to at least try to save the Super Min and all the other mini-marts.”

She’d come, but not for him. The realization created a yawning emptiness in his gut. Still, he had to apologize. He owed her that much.

“Charlie, I’m sorry for the way we left things. I never meant to hurt you.” He wanted to reach out, to take her into his arms. When there was no softening in her posture, when she remained as stiff and unyielding as a vineyard trellis, his fingers curled into themselves.