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The Trouble with Billionaires (Southern Billionaires Book 1) by Michelle Pennington (22)

 

Nate stared across the dumpy plastic table at the man across from him. Blake McDaniel’s eyes met his just as unwaveringly. The atmosphere wasn’t hostile, just tense, as they both stood firm on their current objectives. Negotiations were going to take forever if there was this much back and forth on every point of the thick contract. But the fact that Blake had such a will of iron was exactly why Nate wanted to make this deal with him despite the fact that there was some scandal attached to The McDaniel Company.

“Your move,” Blake said. “I’ve gone as far in your direction as I’m willing to go.”

Keeping all his frustrations inside, Nate tried to think of some way to build a bridge between them. Blake was younger than he was by a few years, but he had an impressive reputation for growing businesses and launching innovative technology. His family company had taken a hard hit when Blake’s mother was accused of fraud and insider trading, but with Blake at the helm, the business was growing exponentially. Nate admired Blake’s unrelenting drive, but hoped the man would be wise enough to put his personal life first. Nate had learned how empty life was without someone to share it with. But that was Blake’s concern. Nate’s was making sure that he secured a seamless and beneficial transition of power from his hands to Blake’s.

Before Nate could think of a solution they would both be happy with, the door opened and he looked up sharply to see who had dared to interrupt them. When he saw Sam’s tense face, a jolt of worry surged through him. Sam only looked like that when something serious had happened. Was it one of his parents? Charlotte? If something had happened to her before he got a chance to go back and make things right with her, he’d never forgive himself. “What is it?”

“We have a situation.” When Nate stood up, Sam continued, “Everyone is fine. Well, that’s not exactly true. You are apparently dead.”

Nate straightened in surprise. “What?”

Sam walked over and handed Nate a tablet secured in a pink rhinestone studded case. Nate flicked an eyebrow at him, then focused on the screen. A video from a national news outlet’s broadcast was paused. Nate saw the headline under the video that read “Billionaire Philanthropist, Nate Haverton, presumed dead.” He quickly hit play and watched in shock as a video feed came on showing the front gates to his home in Chester. To his amazement, the gate had been turned into a shrine or memorial, with flowers and cards and stuffed animals heaped all over it.

He focused on what the reporter was saying, hoping to figure out what the heck was going on.

“No one knows who started the memorial, but all attempts to contact Mr. Haverton by law enforcement and the media have been unsuccessful. The official word from his staff is that Mr. Haverton is unavailable for comment, but will be available soon.”

Then the other reporter jumped in. “It’s a fair assumption to make no one knows where he is and that his people are scrambling to find him. If anyone has any information regarding this unfolding situation, please contact our station at—”

Nate paused the video and handed the tablet back to Sam. “How long has this been going on?”

“The first report was made by the local news channel yesterday afternoon. Apparently, a woman named Justine Tilman went by your house with a plate of brownies and had a panic attack. Your security team found her babbling about how the love of her life was dead, and that she couldn’t go on. They didn’t know what to do, so they left her crying against the fence and called the police. Before they could get there though, Miss Tilman called everyone she knew and told them you were dead. Half the town showed up and joined in her vigil at the gate. By the time the police got there, they had a circus on their hands. At least, that’s what I’ve been able to piece together from security’s report and the early news stories.”

“This is crazy.”

Sam nodded. “It took on a life of its own, going viral on social media.”

“Why are we just hearing about this?”

Sam threw out his hands in a defensive, frustrated gesture. “Because you ordered no devices with internet connections be allowed in the building during negotiations. I only have it now because Zoe flew in from Tampa, drove out to this forsaken shack you found, and pounded on the door like the world was ending.”

“Zoe? My secretary from the Tampa office?”

“Yes, and she wants to talk to you.”

Nate glanced over at Blake. “Do you mind?”

Blake shrugged and chuckled. “Man, it looks like you’ve got problems. Why don’t we take a break while you sort things out?” He stood up, and started to leave, then stopped, laughing suddenly. “I’m sure my shareholders are in a panic right now. We’d better hurry up and let people know you’re alive.”

Nate slapped a hand to his forehead. “My parents. Sam, go call my parents.”

Sam opened the door and held it for Zoe. “I believe Zoe called them on the way here, which was good thinking on her part since we aren’t able to make calls from here.”

“Did she think to call Charlotte as well? You know, in case she’s upset by my rumored demise and not dancing for glee.”

Sam smirked and nodded again, but Zoe said, “Actually sir, I don’t think Charlotte is going to worry that you’re dead.”

Nate’s eyebrows shot up. “Why’s that?”

“I think she’s the reason the whole thing started.”

“Explain, please.”

Zoe clenched her hands together. “Remember that you told me to send her flowers and gifts while you were gone because you’d had a fight?” When Nate nodded, she continued. “Well, most of those things in front of your gate, at least in the beginning, were probably the gifts I sent for you. I’m only sure about that because of the big teddy bear and the angel doll.”

“You sent her an angel doll?”

Nodding, Zoe said, “Yes. With a note that said, ‘Some people dream of angels, but I hold you in my heart.”

“Are you serious? You signed my name to that?”

Zoe looked confused. “What’s wrong with it? I would melt if my boyfriend sent me that.”

Nate closed his eyes and rubbed them as he felt a migraine coming on. Sam’s laughter made him look up again. “Oh sure. Over ten years, and now, in the midst of my greatest personal disaster, Deadpan Sam finally laughs.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, still chuckling. “It’s just that I had this vision of Charlotte reading that note. She may know you’re alive, but she probably thinks you’ve gone nuts.”

“I thought it was romantic,” Zoe said, clearly in a huff.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Nate said, “I think you’d better tell me everything you sent her. But first, Sam? Is there any loophole in our contract with McDaniel that would allow us to give a press release or call anyone?”

“You know me better than that,” Sam said. “It’s iron clad.”

Nate groaned in frustration. “You and your relentless perfectionism. So I’m stuck here with the world thinking I’m dead and Charlotte thinking I’m insane until I make a deal to merge the majority of my holdings and sell them to McDaniel?”

“Yes,” Sam said, back to his usual inscrutable expression.

“Great. Sam, get me an energy drink and find McDaniel. Tell him we’re ready to go again. Zoe, quickly, what else did you send?”

“Well, I had a star named after her, six bouquets, chocolates, a cookie bouquet…”

As she ticked the list off on her fingers, Nate’s incredulity grew. “Well, I’ll be sure to highlight thoroughness as a merit on your next evaluation,” he said, interrupting her.

She continued on, unfazed. “And a really great fruit basket with a note that said, “With love, Nate.”

“Wait. You used the word love?”

She shrugged. “Well, you called the office and said, and I quote ‘Zoe, I’ve just offended the only woman I’ll ever love. And then you told me to send her stuff while you were gone.”

“I told you that, but I haven’t told her I love her yet.”

“Why not?” Zoe asked, her voice going shrill.

“Because she hates my guts now. And before that, I was trying not to freak her out.”

“Oh man. Maybe she’ll take it like, you know, no big deal.”

Blake stepped in at that moment, looking completely at ease. “Shall we resume?”

“What do you look so cheerful about?” Nate asked scowling.

“Oh, nothing. I just have a feeling you won’t be pushing back so much on my terms now that you have such a mess to straighten out at home.”

“Are you married?”

“No.”

“Have a girlfriend?”

“Not a steady one, if that’s what you mean.”

“Then when some woman comes along and wraps you around her finger before wreaking havoc on your life, I hope you remember that you once laughed at me.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Blake said, his sharp eyes glinting with laughter and confidence. “Now, where were we?”

Despite Blake’s optimism that he had Nate in a position of weakness, Nate was not willing to leave the table until he felt his people and his assets would be well protected and represented in the deal. It wasn’t until nearly four o’clock the next day that they finally shook hands and signed the final draft of the contract. With no patience left for small talk, Nate gathered his staff, which now included Zoe, and walked across a dusty field to a van. Fortunately, his staff knew better than to bother him with small talk during the thirty-minute drive to the small airstrip where his jet awaited them. Then, as soon as they were in the air, he issued orders, sending them all off in a harried rush to get ready for the chaos that would ensue once they landed again in Tampa.

Somehow, Nate had to do a press conference and get back to Chester in a matter of hours. There was no way he was going another night without seeing Charlotte. It was time to see if the biggest gamble of his life would pay off. First though, he had to get her to talk to him.

Once they landed, he ran to the waiting car and immediately called Charlotte. He only had a brief time left before he’d arrive home and have to deal with the media. What if she wouldn’t talk to him?

His heart beat like thunder as it rang, one time, two times, three times—finally she picked up just before her voice mail did.

“Nate,” she said, her voice tense and rough.

“Hello, Charlotte. I know you’re really mad at me, but staging my death? Really?”

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