Forever Branded (Billionaire Love Series #1) (13 page)

My stomach growled as I passed a couple of restaurants, reminding me I had to do something about dinner. All day, visions of eating a succulent lobster kept dancing through my head.

So I pulled into my local grocery store and decided to pick up a lobster and a green bean, tomato salad. I even splurged on a piece of strawberry cheesecake for dessert.

I paid for my groceries and headed out to the parking lot, when my cell phone started belting out “
We found love in a hopeless place
.”

Emma’s ringtone.

“Hey, Sugarpop. What’s up?” I greeted as I stopped at the trunk of my car.

“We’re having a barbeque for the Fourth of July. You game?” Emma asked.

“Sure. What do you want me to bring?”

“Ooh...how about something fabulous for dessert?”

“Sure. What are you barbequing?” I asked as I unloaded the bag of groceries into my trunk.

“Just steak and potatoes. It’s Micah’s favorite.”

“Okay, I’ll think of something. I’m at the store right now. Do you need me to grab anything else?”

“No, we’re good. Just make us something good for dessert.”

“Will do. See you later.”

“Love you!”

I smiled into the phone. “Love you, too, Sugarpop.”

I loved my sister’s unbridled zest for life.

Her innocence was one of her best qualities and I liked to think I had helped her stay this way. That kind of thinking reminded me why I had made the decisions I did all those years ago.

I ran back into the store, trying to think of a sweet treat to bring to the party. It didn’t take me long to decide as I spotted the ripe peaches in the produce section. They practically begged me to take them home and make them into a mouth-watering pie. I bagged up several peaches and grabbed some ice cream for Pie à la Mode.

Perfectly delicious.

Just right for a summer evening.

I headed home and unloaded my groceries as I heated up a pot of hot water. When it was boiling, I threw in some spices and prepared myself to cook a living animal.

“Sorry, little guy,” I said, picking up the lobster. “Thank you for giving up your life, so I may have a good meal,” I told my dinner before I tossed him in the water and put the lid on very tight.

I hated this part, but I was willing to live with the consequences. I put some butter on the stove to melt, while I opened the container of green bean, tomato salad and spooned some onto a plate.

As I waited for the lobster to cook and my stomach grumbled in hunger, I recalled the first time I had a fancy meal at Beau’s house. 

After he cornered me in the greenhouse and I agreed to have dinner with his family, he picked me up right on time that night. After dropping Emma off at my neighbor’s, I had waited anxiously until I heard the deep rumble of a car engine through the threadbare walls of my apartment, as I grabbed my backpack and headed outside.

As I ran down the concrete steps, I glanced up and saw him in a fiery red 1969 Mustang. It was such a cool car. He obviously came from money. He didn’t act like it, but there it was in his shiny, red Mustang.

“Get in,” he motioned through the open window as I arrived at the passenger door.

He revved the engine as I climbed into the front seat. “Listen to her purr,” he hollered above the massive sound of the engine.

“Yes, it sounds fast.”

“Oh, she is.”

“How many cars do you have?” I asked, thinking about the Jaguar he picked Emma and me up in on Saturday.

“Just one. This is my Betty,” he claimed, lovingly patting the black dashboard.

“Betty? As in Betty Boop?”

“Nah, just Betty.”

“Then go on, Betty, get us to dinner.”

Offering me a cheeky smile, he gunned the engine. “Betty is at your service,” he said as he shifted into first gear.

We took off like a shot, peeling out of the parking lot, as if we were running from the law.

I clapped my hands together and laughed as Beau high-tailed it to his house. “Oh, that was fun! I never get to do that. The bus never peels out.”

He grinned again as I tried to stay immune to his charms. “You always surprise me, Sunshine.”

“Why’s that?”

“Just when I think you’re a stick in the mud, you show me you know how to laugh.”

I opened my mouth in mock-outrage. “I’m not a stick in the mud. I just have a lot of responsibilities. My fun radar just gets lost sometimes,” I explained. “I bet you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Nope, I’m always up for a good time, but I’m glad to see you can have fun.”

“I can. Believe it or not, I am quite a fun girl.”

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“Are you interviewing me? Are you asking me for my fun resume?” I teased, feeling comfortable with him.

He shrugged, his shoulders just beginning to thicken with muscle. “Maybe. Guess I’m just curious.”

I liked his interest in me. “Hmmm, Emma and I love to do each other’s hair and watch movies in our PJs. That’s fun. I like to listen to music and hang out with my friends, when I get the time. Um, I also like to garden and read books when I get the chance,” I provided as we waited for a light to turn green. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

“For now.”

“Good because I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression of me or anything.”

“No, I wouldn’t want that,” he teased.

“So are we having dinner first or working first?”

“My dad’s real formal. We’ll have dinner and then work.”

“Okay, that works for me. Always better to work on a full stomach.”

He glanced sideways at me, worry in his gaze. “Listen, I have to warn you my dad’s a little uppity.”

“Uppity?” My voice went high.

“Yeah, you know snobbish,” he tried to explain.

That didn’t really help.

“So, just to be clear, I should prepare to be uncomfortable?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Just don’t take anything he says personally.”

“I’ll try,” I said unsure of what I was walking into. “Anything else?”

“Nope, just be yourself and don’t let my dad bother you. That’s it,” he advised as we drove into a wealthy neighborhood I was unfamiliar with.

“Okay, I think I can handle that.”

“Good.”

I was done talking about his scary dad. “How was your day?”

He glanced over at me, his trademark smile in place. “Uh, pretty good. I got an A on my math test.”

“You did? Wonderful. Did you study for it?”

“No, I’ve just always been good with numbers.”

“Gosh, I wish I was. I study those stupid trig formulas till I can’t see straight.”

“Well, if you want, I’d be willing to help you,” he offered unexpectedly.

“You would?”

“Sure. It’s the least I can do.”

“Okay, I’ll let you know if I need help.”

“Sounds good.”

We rounded a corner, heading toward a colossal Southern plantation seeming to take up a whole city block.

There was no way this was where Beau lived.

But he turned into the gated driveway, the iron-wrought gate swinging open to the palatial estate.

“Holy cow, Beau! You live in a mansion.” My jaw dropped open as we pulled up the long driveway and the southern antebellum came to life before my very eyes.

“I know, but it’s home,” he said quietly, almost like he was embarrassed.

“I guess,” I agreed, taking in the large columns of the plantation style house.

Bright lights shone from the upper and lower wrap-around porches, while an impressive set of columns adorned the front of the white house, surrounding the front door in an elaborate circular stoop entrance.

Beau parked the car and got out while I absorbed the wealth of Beau’s family.

“Are you coming in?” he asked from outside the car as I sat in awe.

I had seen pictures of mansions in magazines before, but in person, this majestic house was truly spectacular.

“Yeah,” I gushed in wonder as I got out of the Mustang.

I wiped my hands on my jeans nervously as we walked toward the front entrance. Beau ushered me into the house through a massive front door as a stoic man dressed in a tuxedo greeted us in the grand foyer.

“Welcome home,” the butler greeted in a formal, clipped tone which fit right in with the place. “May I take your coat?” he asked politely.

“Oh, sure,” I said, handing him my brown leather jacket.

Everywhere I looked, there was an overwhelming sense of coldness. From the austerity of the white marble floors, to the spotless antique mirrors gracing the front hall.

“Smells good, Hudson,” Beau complimented as he shook off his jean jacket.

“Dinner is in the dining room, Master Bubba,” Hudson directed as he placed our coats on his arm to carry.

“Bubba?” I asked, highly amused.

A sheepish grin crossed his face. “Yeah, it’s my nickname.”

“Beau wasn’t short enough?”

“What can I say? Southern people love nicknames. I’ve been Bubba for as long as I can remember.”

“Good to know.”

We walked past two winding staircases incased in white marble with an ornate wrought-iron railing framing a huge chandelier that hung perfectly between them. The ceilings were an incredible height, making me feel itty-bitty.

Hello. I was way out of my league.

Beau smiled, reminding me why I was here.

I was just here to help him with his paper.

I didn’t need to impress anyone.

I tried to relax as we followed the path of marble tile down a long hall, where we turned into a large formal dining room straight out of
Town and Country
magazine.

A heavy white marble table dominated the middle of the room, while creamy white wallpaper with ornate wall sconces surrounded the fireplace on the back wall. Two marble columns on either end of the room defined the alcove.

Beautiful, but it was another room dominated by an uninviting coldness that could swallow me whole.

How did Beau live here?

This house had none of him in it.

As I contemplated the museum quality of Beau’s house, a tall, sharply dressed man in a dark suit, with thick salt and pepper hair and matching beard, strode into the room, commanding it. In his late thirties, he looked stern and unyielding. An iron will if I ever saw one.

He was obviously Beau’s father.

His smile didn’t travel up his face, his calculating stare zeroing in on me as if I were a threat. Icy cold blue eyes, so similar to Beau’s, yet so different. I wouldn’t call them dead, but they weren’t very alive either.

I squirmed under his stern glance, feeling funny in my jeans and T-shirt.

“Dad, I want you to meet my English tutor, Marla,” Beau offered as his father approached me.

“How are you this evening, young lady?” he asked in a stiff tone as he held out his hand.

“I’m good, Mr. Shepard. Thank you for having me to dinner,” I said as we shook hands. His grip was firm.

“You’re welcome. We’re glad you’re here to help Beau get those grades up, so he can keep playing hockey.” He smiled again, but it looked fake like he wasn’t used to doing it.

I knew Beau was a jock, but I had no idea what he played. “Hockey? You’re a hockey player?”

“Yep.”

“That’s really cool. I like hockey,” I said, looking at Beau a little differently. I knew it took a lot of grit to play hockey.

“He’s gonna go pro. There’s a strong chance he’ll be called up real soon,” Mr. Shepard boasted.

“You never know, Dad,” Beau said modestly, shooting his dad a stop-embarrassing-me stare.

“Bubba!” A man in his late fifties called out as he walked in.

“Pops!” Beau greeted, giving him a hug. “Marla, this is my granddad, Charly,” he offered proudly.

Finally, a little warmth in the room to balance out the arctic blast I had been feeling. Charly reminded me of my own grandfather, with his yellow wool sweater and his kind, friendly face filled with laugh lines. I was instantly at ease with him as if I had known him my entire life.

“Nice to meet you, Charly,” I said politely, holding out my hand.

His blue eyes twinkled as we warmly shook hands. “The pleasure is all mine, little lady. I hear you’re here to help out our Bubba on his paper.”

“I’m happy to help him.”

“Good to hear. Let me take you to your seat.” He gallantly held out his bent arm for me to take.

Chivalrous.

I slipped my arm through his as he escorted me to a gorgeous white high back chair. I was almost afraid to sit down, thinking a big boot would come flying out of the chair and kick me off.

I was uncomfortable, to say the least.

This was a formal world and one I wasn’t familiar with. I put my cloth napkin in my lap and tried to remember everything my mom had instilled in me about using good manners. Beau shot me a winning smile from across the table, helping me to relax.