The Billionaires Sub (2 page)

I took a few minutes to unpack, as much to make myself feel like this was less of a vacation and more of a semi-permanent thing, then headed to the bathroom to wash off the long flight. Well, long for me anyway. It’d been my first time on a plane.

As I showered, I wondered about Juliette’s life out here. She’d told me that her catering business had taken off the past two years, and since she had several full-time employees as well as a part-time wait staff, I’d assumed she’d been telling the truth. What I couldn’t understand was how in the world she’d managed to make enough to afford a place like this. I’d done my research. Cost of living in California was quite a bit higher than Ohio. It seemed that Juliette was much more successful than anyone in our family had realized.

Or, at least, that’s what I was hoping.

Chapter Two

Juliette strolled into her apartment sometime later that evening. I woke to a dimly lit room, hearing a somewhat familiar voice calling my name. It took me a minute to orient myself, my brain fogged by the nap and the jet-lag. I was in the process of sitting up and getting ready to call out when the door opened.

“There you are.”

I scowled as I squinted against the brighter light coming in through the hallway. I ran my hand through my hair, sure it looked like a rat’s nest after sleeping on it wet. I was also pretty sure I’d drooled at some point.

Juliette, on the other hand, looked exactly like I remembered. Completely put together and gorgeous. I knew in my head that we looked alike, but a part of me always thought of myself as the frumpy sister. No matter how much I tried, I’d never pull off looking that collected.

“What time is it?” I muttered as I fumbled for my phone.

“Uh, about six. Wanna get some take-out?” Juliette turned and headed back down the hall.

I stood and stumbled into the bathroom, still trying to clear my head. I splashed some cold water on my face, and by the time I joined Juliette in the kitchen, I was feeling a bit more like myself. She was rummaging in the fridge, humming a tune I didn’t recognize. I leaned against the counter and waited for her to surface.

“What do you think?” Juliette asked as she straightened. “Chinese, Thai or something else?”

I shook my head and laughed. “You’re telling me the head of a catering company comes home and eats that junk?”

Juliette grinned, her eyes sparkling. “Not all the time. But it is a special occasion.”

I laughed again. “So special occasions get take-out?”

She held out a menu. “I remember how you used to beg Mom and Dad to let you have take-out on your birthday.”

“But Mom always insisted on making spaghetti and meatballs, with homemade pasta sauce,” I continued the memory.

“And she’d insist it was your favorite.”

I took the menu and looked down at it as I finished, “But it was RJ’s favorite.”

A moment of silence fell between us, full of what we didn’t say. That our parents always seemed to remember RJ’s favorites, and he never seemed to notice or care if they made those sorts of mistakes. Our parents loved us, but it had always been clear who the favorite child was.

“So, Chinese, Thai or something else?” Juliette asked, cutting into the memory before it got to be something more.

“Which is the best?” I asked, trying to appear as if I was reading the options instead of avoiding looking at my sister. I’d known it’d be a bit awkward at first, since we hadn’t seen each other in so long. I just hoped the awkwardness wouldn’t last.

And it didn’t. Once we got our food, we headed out to the balcony to eat, and I got a chance to soak in the amazing view. We talked over the meal, the sweet and sour chicken doing well to fill up any pauses, and by the time Juliette brought out a second bottle of wine, it was clear I’d made the right decision coming here.

We didn’t stay up late even though it was Saturday night. Juliette had had a long day dealing with one of her food providers, and I was still adjusting to the three-hour time difference. The next morning, however, I was all caught up and ready to check out the city I’d heard and read so much about.

My sister took me around to all of her favorite spots, showing me not only the classic Hollywood sights, but all of the little places I never would’ve seen if I’d just been visiting on my own. These were the kinds of places that people who planned to live here needed to know.

By the time we got back to the apartment, I was a little sunburnt, a lot tired, and looking forward to the morning. Excited to start a new chapter in my life.

***

I woke early, still affected from my jet lag no doubt, but I would have woken early anyway. Today was my introduction to the managing job. Juliette had a kitchen with a small storefront a few miles from her place. We walked to her business though Juliette assured me we’d both be tired enough to take a cab back tonight. Emmalyn, Juliette’s assistant, showed up a few minutes after we got there, but the rest of the staff didn’t come in until later.

After Juliette had shown me around, she left me in the office to go through everything her previous business manager had left behind, both the things that he’d done before leaving, and the stuff piling up since then. There were plenty of both.

I didn’t get through everything that first day, or the next. In fact, I didn’t even finish up until the middle of Thursday. And even then, I wasn’t entirely done, just done enough that I was able to take a break to help Juliette get ready for the huge party she was catering up in the Hollywood Hills tomorrow evening.

I hadn’t realized how much was actually involved in running a catering business, at least a full-time one. I’d gone to school for business and had grown up in a family that had a business, so I, of course, had a theoretical idea of how things worked. But I’d also listened to my parents talk for years about how Juliette was wasting her life, how she’d never be able to make a real living because that wasn’t the sort of business that could thrive.

Not like an auto parts store that had been around for four generations.

I didn’t know if it was because Juliette had started her business in California and things were different out here, or if my parents had simply deluded themselves into thinking that Juliette was throwing her life away because she’d left home, if they actually wanted her to fail simply so they could be proven right.

Either way, they were wrong.

The catering job Friday evening was for a hundred people, which I thought sounded like a huge deal. But as I talked more with Juliette, I realized that she’d been catering events that size and bigger for a little over a year. Not that it made this one any less important. As she pointed out, in this city, one bad review could make or break anyone’s career. She always had to be on point.

And from what I could see, she was. I may have been taking the position of business manager, but she wasn’t just the public face of the business, or even just the creative force behind it. Juliette did everything. She wanted to know the budget, wanted to know where every penny went. She worked with the chefs to create the menu, then cooked alongside them. She tasted the new dishes, critiqued them. Even things as small as making sure all of the uniforms and linens were ready, she double-checked. And it was clear that it wasn’t just because it was my first week.

My sister was definitely a control freak.

I just hoped that wasn’t why the previous business manager had quit.

Then again, Juliette and I seemed to work well together. I was organized and had no problem directing people to do what I needed them to do, but I also had no problem taking direction when it was obvious someone else knew more about a situation than I did. I’d been told in college that I had a strange combination of confidence and humility.

Friday morning demonstrated Juliette’s...enthusiasm for control. She was into everything, high energy, going from one thing to another. Everything appeared to be going smoothly, so while she was busy, she wasn’t freaking out about anything. In fact, she seemed to thrive on it.

“You go with the first car,” she said as she handed me a red three-ring binder.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Your copy of the itinerary, and everything else needed to make tonight work.” Juliette held up another binder, that one black. “I always have a back-up in case something happens to mine.”

“You’re sure you want me to go first?” I asked.

She nodded. “One of the two of us has to be there when everything arrives, and I need to pick up the last of the centerpieces.”

“I could do that,” I offered, trying to sound like I wanted to help instead of being so nervous I was sure my hands would’ve been shaking if I hadn’t been gripping the binder so tightly.

“No, you and Emmalyn go ahead. I’ll meet you there. I should only be about forty minutes behind you.” She glanced over my shoulder to where I knew Emmalyn was standing. “Emmalyn, be sure to help my sister out with anything she needs.”

I had a feeling Emmalyn wasn’t too happy with that instruction, but she simply agreed and headed to the company car. I followed, reluctantly getting into the passenger’s seat. Until I got my California driver’s license, Juliette didn’t want me driving under the company’s insurance. I didn’t know if that was a legality thing or because she was being cautious, but I didn’t mind. I’d never liked city driving back home...and this was nothing like back home.

The ride with Emmalyn was awkward despite the fact that I turned on the radio, and I was only too glad to have the binder to study so I didn’t have to try to make conversation just to feel polite.

I once heard in a movie that you’ve never experienced heavy traffic until you experience LA traffic. It didn’t take long before I realized how true the statement was. The ride to the mansion was only ten miles from the kitchen, yet I was able to get most of the way through my manual before we pulled up to a set of huge iron gates almost an hour later.

As the gate opened and we drove to the servant entrance of the mansion, I put my game face on. It was time for work.

I was surprised at how quickly things went once we got there, how time seemed to fly by as I oversaw everyone setting everything up. Fortunately, they all knew their jobs perfectly, so there wasn’t really much for me to do other than make sure the client was happy and make any little changes they needed.

It wasn’t until hours later that I realized something was wrong.

I hadn’t seen Juliette yet.

Instead of asking around and causing a panic, I pulled my phone out of my bag to send a discreet text. And that’s when I saw the missed calls. Three of them. All from Juliette.

The first voicemail said it all.

“Glad that you listened to my instructions about turning off your ringer. I didn’t think it’d come back to bite me in the ass though.” Her voice was a little more stressed than I was comfortable with. “Apparently, the new company truck is a lemon piece of shit. Damn brakes went out and nearly killed me.”

Shit.

“I’m okay, just having to wait for the fucking tow truck.”

Oh, yeah, she was pissed.

“And then I have to figure out a way to get a new truck and centerpieces and...anyway, I don’t know how long I’ll be, and I can’t have this party blowing up in my face. I need you to run it. You’re the only one I can trust to do this.”

No pressure.

“I believe in you, Sis. Don’t let me down.”

Fuck me.

Chapter Three

“Let me get this straight,” Emmalyn said, her mouth twisted into a scowl. “The brakes went out on the truck, Juliette can’t get here with the centerpieces, and she wants you to do her job after you’ve only been here less than a week.”

I squared my shoulders and resisted the urge to glare at her. That would be counter-productive. I had no problem playing to her personality to get what I needed. “Not alone, she doesn’t. She told me to have you help me since you knew the ropes.”

I could tell she didn’t really like the idea of ‘helping’ me, but my words mollified her enough that a bit of tension eased. Maybe, I thought, it wasn’t Juliette that Emmalyn had a problem with. Maybe it was me. Maybe she felt like I was taking a place that she should’ve had. I didn’t know why she hadn’t tried to apply for the business manager position, or if she just thought that she should be the one automatically put in charge when Juliette wasn’t around, but perhaps it was the position and power causing the problem.

I pushed it all out of my head. I didn’t have the time to think about any of this now. I had a job to do, and while I’d gotten a business degree, it didn’t really cover much if any of my current problems. All I had to go on was the past week and the three-ring binder Juliette had given me.

Fortunately, Juliette’s instructions had been very thorough.

“Miss Breckenridge.” The hostess of the party, a stately-looking woman in her fifties, approached me. “I have yet to see your lovely sister here.”

I gave Mrs. Breashears a confident smile. “I’ll make sure I tell her you’re looking for her.” I glanced at Emmalyn, waiting for her to add something. When she didn’t, I continued, “Is there something I can do for you, Mrs. Breashears?”

“Not at all, dear.” She gave me a warm smile. “I just wanted to tell her how lovely everything looks.”