The Billionaire's Second Chance (2 page)

Still, it wasn’t just that because he’d been different from the moment he’d
returned
from Africa.  Something was wrong beyond the forced engagement, she could feel it, but with the whole Barrett world freaking out around them there hadn’t been time to get big brother alone.

Jules had expressed her concerns to Nicky’s oldest friend, Ned Ste
wart
.  She and Ned had gotten seriously close in the last year so it was natural to share her worry with him.  In fact Jules was head over stilettos with the man so Ned took her apprehensions seriously.  It had been he who suggested she check the penthouse when
her brother
had gone off the radar.  Especially since his less than enthusiastic fiancée didn’t seem to care one way or the other.  Something definitely wasn’t right.

The moment the door closed behind her Jules took in what was basically a holy hell mess stretching from the vestibule through to the large open, high ceilinged living room.  There were pizza boxes stacked on the hallway table and the unmistakable aroma of scotch permeating the air.

Once in the living room she spied take out containers, piles of clothes and boxes of tapes and books strewn everywhere.  The place looked and smelled like a wolf pack had been living there.  This much evidence hadn’t piled up in just a day or two.  The scenario she stumbled upon looked to her like Nicky had been going off the rails for weeks.

A voice made her pull up short when for a second she thought someone else was there
,
but then she saw a homemade video playing on the large screen TV just a split second before she then noticed her brother, out cold, sprawled on the sofa.

Fabulous, just great
she muttered to herself as she hurried over to the sofa to see if he was alright. More sounds of laughing voices and scenes from a part of Nicky’s life that she knew nothing about intruded on her task; with an impatient flick of the remote control she paused the recording at the exact moment when the image of her brother engaged in some seriously close dancing with a blonde haired woman froze on the screen.

Face down on the sofa, dressed only in a pair of well-worn
jeans;
Nicholas Barrett was sleeping off what looked to have been an epic drunk.  Quickly assessing that he was a
lright
and deciding it was best to leave him be, Jules went to toss a throw blanket over him when she noticed a small tattoo, real low on his back.  What would normally have been covered by clothing had he not been half undressed, was a bird with a
n unusual
symbol done in midnight blue ink.

She wasn’t surprised so much that he had a tattoo; Nicky always did whatever he wanted especially if what he wanted was something that would annoy the shit out of their oppressive grandfather.

No, what struck Jules was where the image was located – clearly placed in one of those intimate areas that would not be seen by the casual viewer. This mark and its placement were meant for the eyes of a lover.

The symbol meant something to him of that she was sure. Glancing up at the frozen image on the screen showing Nicky with his arms wrapped around the blonde haired woman with his face pressed against her neck, Jules’ instincts went on high alert.

Nicky’d had no choice but to follow his destiny when the time came for him to do so but in this moment Jules was painfully aware that in order for all their lives to continue on without disruption her brother may have paid a terrible price.  One which judging by the state of things today, she hoped he’d recover from.

Just then a gust of wind blew through the wide open French doors leading to the balcony terrace causing the long, heavy drapes to flutter and sway.

Heaving a heavy sigh Jules turned her attention back to the task at hand
. S
atisfied that Nicky was alright and just sleeping it off, she began gathering the mounds of trash and dirty dishes littering the otherwise well-organized space.

Nicholas Temple Barrett was a wealthy man. If you took into consideration what was generally understood and written about in the media he had, in fact, more money than god. Not that he cared. Not that it mattered.

Great wealth hadn’t ensured that he’d have a happy life and certainly hadn’t mattered
as
much as a whit when his father had been mortally wounded in an
accident when Nick had been a teen.  No, the money was in actuality a life sentence that came along with
a level of power and privilege
most could
never even imagine.  At the end of the day though all that wealth and all those privileges did not mean a thing when he went home to emptiness and the deafening sounds of a life lived in solitary confinement.

Being born into and raised in great wealth, he’d had an uneasy relationship with the lifestyle and advantages
that
money and power produced. Those with the money had all the influence
and
control.  He’d seen up close and way too personal how ruthlessly these intangibles were called to play in every aspect of existence for those in the highest echelons of fortune’s prosperous elite.

Speeding along the highway in an outwardly bland but oh so ostentatious limo, returning from yet another in a mind numbingly endless tsunami of meetings and business engagements, Nick was restlessly edgy and out of sorts. He was leading a monochrome life on what seemed to be an otherwise beautifully sunny and vibrantly colorful late summer day in New York City.

Thoughts of bland business meetings full of people who after all these years were easily forgotten and interchangeable were eating away at the edges of his mind. Being emotionally or personally reflective was not something he was prone to, not something which was necessary in his life as the privileged heir and now CEO to a massive company with global holdings and pursuits. 

From the moment of his birth almost thirty-four years ago, Nicholas Barrett’s life had been matter-of-factly laid out before him with no areas of question or possibilities intruding on the strict confines of being the Barrett heir. There would never be those childhood fantasies of
‘What do you want to be when you grow up?
’
no opportunities to engage in youthful fantasies about super heroes or damsels in distress. 

No, for Nick, he would only ever be the man in the executive office at the pinnacle of a towering edifice of business iconography. He’d be the one calling the shots, regardless of his talents or lack thereof; simply because of his having been born to it. People would do his bidding whether he’d earned that level of respect or not due to the circumstances of his birth.

Maybe that was why he was itchy and restless. He’d been following the plan to a T, not that he’d had much choice, and while the business was thriving, and had done so for the eight years during which Nick had been ensconced in the executive tower, he was empty inside.  No amount of knowing it wasn’t good to muddle over things which might have been but will never be could apparently keep his thoughts from straying to the danger zone of memory where the only occasion when he had broken free of the restraints of the Barrett legacy lived in carefully hidden visions of a time when he’d been truly, deeply happy. 

A time when he’d known what it was to be happy and free; chasing dreams and reveling in the challenges of a normal, everyday life when he had been just one of the guys, anonymous and sharing in a team effort to bring about meaningful change in one of the poorest regions on the planet

Anytime he shone the light in his mind’s eye on that happier time when, fresh out of grad school, he had accepted a fellowship grant working on a project in Africa, an area ignored and forgotten by time and progress, he would have to deal with that other memory. 

The one filled with laughter that erupted in a giggle he couldn’t forget.  The memory with the sun gilded golden hair and startling turquoise eyes.  The remembrance of adorable bow tie lips under a perfect little nose and the way it made him feel when this memory of perfection would absent mindedly run her finger along her jawline from ear to chin when she was engaged in deep thought. As it made him feel right now, almost nine years later.

Expressing a deep sigh Nicholas Barrett forced his mind away from those memories and turned unseeing eyes on the city scene rushing by as his car moved through the always crowded city streets.

Maybe the edginess he was battling was due to his locale he mused. Perhaps all this pointless reflection and restless distraction was a result of having spent too much time in the city.  And not just this city.

All cities, he reckoned since his life was an endless itinerary of jet propelled travel whether here in the States or around the globe as was the case today for this car ride would eventually end at the private hangar Barrett Holdings kept for the company plane which this evening would be taking him on another long distance series of business obligations.

“
Where am I off to this time?
”
Nick queried out loud to the empty space around him.

Oh yeah, right.  This was the trip to Hong Kong to tour a string of hotels that Barrett was contemplating buying.  Three weeks in yet another bustling, noisy, crowded city.  Three weeks of monochrome days, cocktail party evenings and endless socializing at night.  His Chinese hosts were eager to please him which he knew meant an endless agenda and very little time to be off the radar.

He needed some down time after this trip.  Needed to get away from
the never
-ending business obligations that were swallowing his life whole. Since he couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken any personal time for himself, much less even so much as had the thought, Nick knew he couldn’t just stand up and say he needed a break without the financial times speculating on his actions and affecting Barrett business.

God, the stranglehold of his birthright had tightened around him lately so much it was no wonder he was out-of-sorts.  Digital information and technology moving around the planet in real time at the speed of light had changed the way business was done and introduced the unwanted attention and constant intrusion of the media and some rude as shit bloggers who liked nothing better than to sit around and ruminate on what was going on in his mind.

No, to get away for some desperately needed space he had to do something benign that wouldn’t attract a lot of attention, wouldn’t make it seem like he was heading for an early mid-life crisis. Remembering that his sister Jules was throwing what would no doubt be an over-the-top, southern California style birthday party for his favorite and only nephew Dom in a few weeks instantly gave him pause.

Yes, that’s what he’d do.  After the Hong Kong trip he’d indulge in some family time.  Head off to the left coast; hang with Jules who conveniently was married to his oldest and best friend Ned
Ste
wart
. Sp
end some quality time with Dom.
Just what the doctor ordered. Simple solution.

His mother he knew would miss Dom’s party because she was off cruising the Mediterranean with her sister and a few of their lady friends but if he timed things right she will have returned home by the time he left California making it possible to
head home to Connecticut for an overdue visit
before he’d be forced to get back to the never ending business of being Nicholas Temple Barrett, business tycoon.

Well he certainly felt better now that was settled, Nick thought to himself; quite satisfied that he’d found a way to dampen some of his edginess with a plan to step back for a bit.  Maybe Hong Kong wouldn’t be all that bad if at the end of it all there was the promise of sunny skies, maybe a little surfing, definitely some sun worshipping and a whole lot of family time with the only people he ever let inside his frozen emotional world.

Leaning forward Nick pressed a small button on the control panel of the armrest and called up to his driver.  “Let’s stop at that bodega in the Village before we go to the hangar, Mr. Allen”.  Chuckling softly he added “You know I can’t be stuck across the world without my butterscotch” and was amused to hear his long-time driver, a sensible but funny
middle-aged
man he
generally
called by his formal name laugh too.

“Yes sir, Mr. Barrett.  I knew you’d want to make that stop so just hang on and we’ll be there before you know it.  Oh, and just an FYI, Claire packed a rather large box of those sweets you like so much in your office luggage so you’re in good shape.”

At the me
ntion of his trusty right hand
Claire, Nick had to admit that as far as personal assistants go Claire Dennison was the best of the best.  She was efficient, discreet, resourceful and above all loyal to a fault.  He trusted her completely and was tremendously grateful for the stroke of good luck which had brought her to his attention.  He wasn’t at all surprised to hear that she’d noticed his penchant for the small butterscotch candies he favored at the oddest times. The woman was observant like that, another quality which made her invaluable.

Ordinarily she would be going along on a trip such as this one but she and her partner had recently adopted a baby and he’d insisted she have this time with her little family without the burden of travelling.