Waking Up with a Billionaire (The Overnight Billionaires Book 3) (4 page)

Madison’s secrets were nowhere close to Chloe’s. Madison had grown up in a large family with a mother who switched out fathers like underwear. Chloe had only one father. At least that’s what she’d thought until she turned fifteen.

“But once I confided in you and Eden,” Madison continued, “it was like this huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I suddenly realized that I was selling myself short by being an escort. I’m worth more than just a fur coat and fancy baubles.” Her eyes turned dreamy. “Although I do love fur coats and fancy baubles.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I just want you to know that, whenever you want to confide in someone, I’m here for you.”

It was hard to keep tears from filling her eyes. But Chloe knew that if she let one fall, Madison wouldn’t let her go. So she clicked on the hand vac and knelt down to clean up the potting soil. Once she was done, she picked up the peace lily and placed it back in the plastic pot, then filled the pot from the bag of soil she kept in the corner.

“Here.” She handed it to Madison. “Maybe you can get the stupid thing to bloom.”

Madison accepted it with sad eyes. “Is there anything you need before you leave?”

It was hard to get the words out. Chloe wasn’t good at asking for help. “Actually, I need a place to stay until I leave and a loan. Just until I get my first check—”

Before she could finish, Madison had her in a bear hug. “Of course you can stay with me. And I would love to give you some money.”

“Not give. I’ll pay every cent back.”

Madison released her and laughed. “You are as prideful as they come, Chloe McAlister. Which is just another reason why I love you. Now would you please find me some chocolate? I’m feeling the need for a sugar high.”

They ended up polishing off an entire bag of Chips Ahoy! cookies, but it didn’t give them much of a high. Madison was sad because Chloe was leaving, and Chloe was sad because she had to leave. Once Madison was gone, Chloe changed into her jean skirt and black T-shirt for work, then carried the remaining plants downstairs and left them next to Mr. Garcia’s door. She didn’t leave a note. Goodbyes were much easier without them. When she went back to her apartment for her duffel bag, the Romeo nightshirt caught her eye, the glittery name on the front standing out like a sign on the Vegas strip. Without another thought she picked it up and stuffed it in her duffel. Not only because it was her last gift from Madison, but also because it would serve as a reminder.

Never become a man’s possession.

A
fter being mistaken for a bum and almost arrested, Grayson went straight home and shaved off his beard. Not all of it—he left a little stubble—but enough to make him feel as naked as his nudist neighbors, the Huckabees. He thought about trimming his hair, but then vetoed the idea. He was as bad at cutting hair as Chloe.

Or whatever her name was.

Grayson had thought that Chloe didn’t want her face photographed or painted because of some silly girlie insecurity about her looks. But after what happened today, he had to wonder if the police officer was right and Chloe wasn’t who she said she was. It seemed likely, given that she didn’t have any identification or records. And if it was true, whom was she hiding from? The law? Her family? Another abusive jerk like Zac?

The questions stayed with him as he showered and dressed in a gray designer suit, then drove back to the office. He was almost relieved when his phone rang and gave him something else to think about. But his relief was short-lived when he answered his hands-free cell phone and Deacon’s voice came through the car speakers.

“So I’m going to assume that I don’t need to come bail you out of jail.”

Grayson cringed. “I guess Kelly told you?”

“It happened right in front of our corporate office. Did you expect our employees to ignore the fact that one of their bosses was lying on the ground in handcuffs? When I asked you to take over, Gray, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

As tired as Grayson was of being the perfect Beaumont brother, he hated disappointing Deacon. After their mother died, Deacon had given up a lot to make sure Grayson and Nash hadn’t gone without. Not only had he worked to provide them with clothes and food, but he’d also given up his savings so Grayson could go to art school. Grayson owed him. And causing problems for French Kiss was a shitty way to pay him back for everything he’d done.

“I’m sorry, Deke,” he said. “It was all a misunderstanding.”

“So you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine, and everything is straightened out—”

Deacon erupted. “Straightened out? How can things be straightened out when one of the owners of French Kiss is plastered all over the Internet with the captions
Billionaire Bashes Cop
and
Rowdy Romeo Gets His Panties in a Twist
?”

Grayson tightened his grip on the steering wheel and blew out his breath. “Shit.”

“Yes, I couldn’t agree more. You’ve gotten yourself into a pile of shit—and subsequently, the company.”

“But I didn’t mean to hit the guy. I was trying to help…this woman and things got out of hand.”

“We both know that the truth doesn’t matter. The public only knows what it reads. And the damned online rag-mags have you pegged as a derelict jerk who beat up a police officer.”

Grayson might be able to dispute beating up a police officer, but he couldn’t dispute looking like a derelict or acting like a jerk. He had promised Deacon he would take care of things while Deacon was on baby leave, and all he’d been doing so far was moping around feeling sorry for himself because he couldn’t paint.

“Okay, so what do we need to do to fix it?” he asked. He wasn’t surprised when Deacon quickly answered. His big brother had an answer for everything.

“We can’t get the pictures back, but we can show the public the real Grayson Romeo Beaumont.”

The real Grayson Romeo Beaumont? Good luck with that. Grayson didn’t have a clue who that guy was. At one time he’d been a creative painter. Now he was just an embarrassment to his family. Although Deacon didn’t seem to think so.

“Let’s show them the sensitive guy who defends women.
Entertainment Tonight
has been wanting to do a segment about the upcoming fashion show. Get Kelly to call them and see if they can squeeze it in tomorrow. I’m sure they’ll jump at the chance to ask about the pictures.”

“And what should I say?”

“Keep it simple and truthful. Just say it was all a misunderstanding and you were trying to help the woman. Who is she, anyway? The pictures weren’t very clear.”

Grayson didn’t know why he’d kept Chloe’s identity from his brother. Maybe because Deacon would ask more questions than Grayson was willing to answer. He didn’t want to talk about Chloe. In fact he didn’t even want to think about her. He was through with the woman. Let her keep her secrets.

“She’s nobody,” he said, before changing the subject. “So how’s fatherhood?”

“A piece of cake. Everyone acted like a new baby was such hard work, but frankly, I don’t see it. All the little guy does is sleep.” Since the baby had been home for only a day, Grayson didn’t know if Deacon had a true grasp of what being a new parent entailed. But he didn’t point that out.

“Well, give Olivia and Mikey a kiss for me, and I’ll try to stop by tomorrow night.”

“Good. I’ll expect an update on the interview. Oh, and before you do it, make sure you shave and get a haircut. After coming back from Paris, you look like shit.”

Grayson laughed. “This coming from a man who used to have a beard down to his chest and whose favorite clothes were camouflage.”

“True, but that was when I didn’t have a multibillion-dollar company to run.” He paused. “Maybe I should come into work for just a little bit this afternoon.”

“Absolutely not. You need to be with Olivia and the baby. Besides, I’ve got this covered.”

It might’ve been an overstatement. Grayson didn’t have anything covered. Especially not his personal life. But for his brothers, he would do his best. He got his first chance to prove himself when, on the way from the parking garage to the executive floor, the elevator stopped at the lobby. The same receptionist from the day before sat at the desk, her back to the front doors as she chatted on the phone. Her obvious lack of respect for her job prompted him to step off the elevator and walk to the desk.

“I know I have a boyfriend, Tiff, but I’m telling you that this flower guy is so hot.” Grayson cleared his throat, and she glanced over her shoulder. When she saw him, her eyes widened. “I’ve got to go.” She hung up and smiled brightly. “Mr. Beaumont. Don’t you look handsome.”

“Thank you…”—he glanced at her nametag—“Miss Daniels.”

“You can call me Stacy.” She fluttered eyelashes that were so long they looked cartoonish. “Is there something I can do for you, sir? I heard about what happened with the police. I knew that woman was trouble the first moment I set eyes on her.”

It was the truth. Chloe was trouble. But that didn’t excuse this woman’s behavior.

“As a matter of fact, there is something you can do for me,” he said. “You can start treating the visitors to French Kiss with the same respect you give me.” When she looked completely baffled, he explained. “When someone walks in and asks to see either me or one of my brothers, you will treat them with courtesy, kindness, and respect. I don’t care if it’s a bum off the street or the president of the United States.”

The lightbulb went on, and she made an attempt to defend her actions. “But she didn’t have an appointment.”

“That can be explained nicely without making a judgment about people’s clothing or looks. Make sure it doesn’t happen again or you’re gone.” Grayson turned to leave but then stopped and issued one more order. “And that phone is for business calls only.”

When Grayson reached the elevators, he found the security guard grinning.

“That one has always been too sassy for her britches.” He pushed the up button, then looked at Grayson. “I want to apologize for yesterday, Mr. Beaumont. I had no idea that the police would attempt to arrest you. Some folks don’t know how to handle a badge. Especially when you were only trying to save that pretty little gal. To be honest, I never did believe she was trying to steal the ducky of roses.”

“She wasn’t,” Grayson said.

The guard lifted his shaggy gray brows. “It would’ve made things a lot simpler if you had mentioned that earlier.”

The elevator doors opened, and Grayson glanced at the guard before he stepped in. “Just for the record, there’s nothing simple about that pretty little gal.”

When Grayson reached the executive floor, he headed straight to Kelly’s desk. If anyone could help him get through the next couple of weeks, it was Kelly. She could be a little bit of a loose cannon at times, but she was also loyal and efficient. She knew everything there was to know about French Kiss…gossip included.

“So there’s the cop-abusing Beaumont,” she said as soon as she saw Grayson. “My, but you clean up nice. You looked horrendous in your Facebook pictures.”

He stepped up to her desk, which was cluttered with Hello Kitty figurines and sports paraphernalia. Both she and Jason were huge sports fans and spent most of their free time at games. “Make sure you thank Jason again for intervening, and I was thinking that I’d take over Deacon’s office while he was gone. I’m not very good at this boss thing and was hoping you could help me.”

Kelly grinned. “I wouldn’t say that. You handled Stacy Daniels pretty well.”

Holy crap
.
Gossip did travel fast in an office. Grayson ignored the comment and moved on. “So I’m going to need you to see if I can get an interview—”

“Done.” Kelly handed him a memo. “
Entertainment Tonight
is sending a camera crew tomorrow morning, and the piece will be aired tomorrow night.”

Grayson shook his head. “Deacon couldn’t let me handle things, could he?”

Kelly laughed. “Are you kidding? In case you haven’t figured this out, your brother’s a huge control freak. The entire office is betting that he won’t make it a week without coming back.”

Grayson didn’t think his brother would make it a week. In fact he wouldn’t be surprised if Deacon walked down the hallway any second. But while Grayson had the ball, he might as well run with it. “So I thought we should have a few of the models at the interview. Call Madison and Natalia and see if they can be here.”

“Fine, but I’m pretty sure
ET
is going to be more interested in your arrest than in the fashion show.” She got up. “I’ll get you some coffee. I think you’re going to need it. Not only do you have to get ready for the interview but there’s also a million phone calls and e-mails you need to return.”

“Great.” He walked into Deacon’s office.

While Grayson had chosen a small office with good light for his studio, Deacon had chosen Uncle Michael’s huge corner office with panoramic views of the Golden Gate Bridge and the bay. The decor of the office had once been of dark woods, bold paintings, and deep purple fabrics. Now it was furnished in a more contemporary style of glass and chrome with a light gray couch and lavender throw pillows. But the paintings were still the ones that had hung in Uncle Michael’s office. They were all of Paris. The Eiffel Tower. The Seine. And the quaint little lingerie shop that had been his mother’s inspiration for French Kiss.

Before Althea Beaumont had married Grayson’s father, she had traveled to Paris. It was there she’d met Uncle Michael. His uncle had fallen head over heels in love with the beautiful Althea and brought her back to Louisiana to introduce her to his family. It was a mistake. His mother had taken one look at Donny John Beaumont and lost her heart. And her dream of making lingerie. Instead she had raised three sons before she lost her life to cancer. Or she had raised two sons. Grayson had been only eight when his mother died.

When Grayson had lost his ability to draw, he had gone to Paris, hoping to find inspiration as his mother had. But all he’d found was disappointment and a deep, nagging ache for the mother he couldn’t remember.

Ignoring the pain, he turned and walked to Deacon’s desk. He spent what was left of the afternoon answering phone calls and e-mails, rescheduling meetings until after Deacon and Nash came back, and coming up with answers for any questions that
ET
might ask about the incident with the police. Until now he had always avoided the business side of French Kiss, preferring to deal with the creative side. But now that his creative side had deserted him, he discovered he enjoyed the monotonous tasks and wasn’t even aware of how late it was until Kelly poked her head in.

“I stayed late to try and get things organized for you, but now I’ve got to go home and have sex with my husband before the ovulating window of opportunity closes. That’s why I had the doctor’s appointment this morning: Jason and I are trying to get pregnant. And it’s a lot harder than I thought it would be. You have to take your temperature and keep track on a calendar and pee on a stick.” When Grayson cringed, she laughed. “I guess that was too much information for a single guy.”

“Just a little. But I wish you luck. And tell Jason that I want to meet with him in the morning to go over contracts.”

“Will do. See you in the morning.” She closed the door.

After Kelly left, Grayson pulled up the pictures of the new designs. Besides taking on Deacon and Nash’s job, he still needed to get the holiday catalog out. Which meant he might be spending the night in Deacon’s office. Especially after seeing the pictures Miles had taken. Miles was an excellent photographer, but he’d missed the mark on the Romeo Collection. The pictures looked too sweet. Too romantic. They needed edge. While he was studying the pictures, Madison breezed into the office, looking like the sexy lingerie model she was in a clingy red dress and sky-high heels.

He rose and walked over to greet her. Of all the models, he liked Madison the best. She was a straight shooter with a heart of gold. He still couldn’t figure out why she was such good friends with Chloe. “You’re working late, Maddie.”

She kissed his cheek. “So are you. I’m surprised that you aren’t in your studio painting. But I guess there’s a lot to do with Deacon and Nash both gone.” She pulled back. “So you decided to shave the beard.”

“It was time. Is there a problem? I hope you’re not here to cancel on the
ET
interview tomorrow. Your and Natalia’s presence will take some of the heat off me.”

“No, I’ll be there. I just stopped by because I have a dilemma that I thought you could help me with.”

He leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. “Shoot.”