The Brave Billionaire (Clean Billionaire Beach Club Romance Book 11), Page 2

  Lawrence just wanted to find a tree they could hide under for a while. But he employed his bravery—something he’d been trying to do more and more lately—and stepped with his far leg. Next step, she’d have to put weight on her injured ankle—or him.

  They did it, moving only a few inches forward. But it was something. And they stepped again and then again, Lawrence’s breath laboring through his lungs. He wasn’t carrying her, but it felt like he was, and as the ground leveled, he caught sight of a huge banyan tree that could offer some protection.

  “Over here,” he said, steering her in the direction of the tree. She didn’t protest, and by the time they arrived under the leaves and branches of the banyan, he was out of breath—and so was she.

  She sank to the ground, which was much drier here and said, “Thank you,” through her panting. She un-taped the bottle and let it roll away. Her eyes closed, and she lay down on the ground, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Alarm sang through Lawrence. Maybe she was going into shock. Maybe he shouldn’t let her rest like this. He honestly had no clue. Born and raised in New York City, his definition of the outdoors was the boardwalk at Coney Island. Or a walk through Central Park.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, hoping that would keep her awake and get her talking.

  “Maizee Phelps,” she said, her breathing starting to even out. He still felt like he’d swallowed a lungful of seawater, so she was definitely in better shape than him.

  “Maizee Phelps,” he said. “And what do you do here on the island?”

  “I’m starting a new job on Monday.” Her blue eyes opened and she looked at him. Lightning could’ve struck the banyan, and Lawrence wouldn’t have known it. He couldn’t look away from her, and time seemed to slow. The pounding rain muted, and it wasn’t until her dog crawled onto her stomach, crinkling the plastic poncho, that Lawrence realized he’d fallen into a trance.

  He shook himself, pushed his hood off, and ran both hands through his wet hair. “That’s great,” he said, feeling out of sorts. At least he’d told Linus, his next-door neighbor, where he was going this afternoon. That way, someone would know where to come look for his body.

  Stop it, he told himself. This was a little rain. Some wind. He wasn’t going to die today. It only felt like it.

  “Where will you be working?” he asked, hoping it was somewhere he might be able to drop by and see her from time to time. Maybe Monday. And then Tuesday.

  “Gladstone Financial?” She put a question mark on the end of it, as if he wouldn’t know the institution.

  His breath stuck in his chest, and all the heat that had entered his blood rushed out. “Oh,” he said, all fantasies of stopping by Maizee’s place of employment until he was brave enough to ask her out dying on the spot.

  He’d see her on Monday all right, because he owned Gladstone Financial and had a huge corner office in the branch he’d established here in Getaway Bay.

  “I’m Lawrence Gladstone,” he said, thinking he might as well get the introduction out of the way. His heart wailed. He’d never disliked who he was until that moment, until it meant he couldn’t ask for Maizee’s number and fall asleep with the image of her pretty face in his mind.

  He did not date employees. Period. The end. It had never ended well that he could tell, and he thought this was one area where he didn’t have to have personal experience to know an office romance was a bad idea.

  “I know,” she said. “I’ve worked for Gladstone Financial for nineteen years.”

  “Ah.” Lawrence nodded and looked away, a definite measure of unhappiness pulling through him. Of course, the one woman who had made his pulse accelerate in the past decade had to work for him.

  Of-freaking-course.

  The tension between them was palpable now, and this situation was almost as bad as the hiking had been.

  “I’m never going hiking again,” he said to his empty penthouse, pulling his clothes off as he walked further down the hall and into the kitchen. Standing just in his boxers—which were also soaking wet—he pulled three cans of Dr. Pepper out of the fridge.

  He popped the top on one of them and downed almost the whole thing. Since he’d given up drinking so he could always have his best mind present, he’d found flavored sodas and fallen in love. He poured the other two cans over ice in the biggest cup he owned and pulled down the coconut and cherry syrups he kept in the cupboard next to the fridge.

  With two pumps of cherry and one of coconut, his dirty Dr. Pepper would be delicious. And he’d let it marinate while he warmed up in the shower.

  He didn’t employ a maid, though he could certainly afford one. So he swept his disgusting clothes off the floor and stuck them in the washing machine. He used a quick mop to get the floors clean, and then he finally moved into the marble bathroom to get warm.

  With his face in the spray, he closed his eyes and finally breathed enough relaxation into his body. Maizee’s face formed in his mind, and that only put him in a more terrible mood.

  So he hadn’t had a date in while. He normally didn’t mind, because he had friends and work to keep him occupied. After all, Lawrence could look through financial documents for hours just for fun.

  He had his Nine-0 Club meetings, and he really enjoyed spending time with the other billionaires in Getaway Bay. Nina and Jewel Captaine had joined recently, and he’d thought maybe he could capture one of their eyes.

  But they both had boyfriends and didn’t live on the island permanently anyway. They could, should they choose to do so, but apparently their life in Los Angeles was just as exciting as this tropical paradise.

  Lawrence didn’t see how, but then again, he’d just started exploring this island where he’d lived for the past five years. He’d always known it was beautiful; he just didn’t realize how his surroundings could influence him as strongly as they did.

  He finished showering and returned to the kitchen for his drink. His streaming service would keep him company for the night, and he could ignore any texts from Ira or Fisher about how the hike had gone.

  Before he could take his drink and become besties with his couch, someone knocked on his door. As one of three penthouse residents in this beautiful building on the southern tip of the East Bay, Lawrence knew only two other people would even have access to this floor.

  So he didn’t check through the peephole before opening the door to find Linus and his wife, Isabella, standing there. “Hello, Dawseys,” he said easily, leaning into the doorway with a smile forming on his face.

  The elderly man also smiled. “Just checking to see if you’d made it back.” He tossed a glance over his shoulder. “It turned nasty out there.”

  Isabella reached up and brushed a long piece of his hair back. “You look tired, Lawrence,” she said, and his heart squeezed. She reminded him so much of his own grandmother, and he loved his next-door neighbors.

  “I’m going to get him some cell salts,” Isabella said, unlatching her arm from Linus’s. “Won’t take but two minutes.”

  “We can’t be late,” he called after her as she went down the hall toward their place. “We have a charity dinner tonight.”

  “Mm.” Lawrence looked at Linus again. He’d had Fisher look into the Dawseys, and while they had quite a lot of money, it wasn’t in the billions, and therefore, they didn’t qualify for the Nine-0 Club. “Which charity?”

  “It’s for the new football team,” Linus said, and Lawrence remembered all the Sunday afternoon and Monday night invitations over to the Dawsey’s penthouse to eat and watch the games. Apparently, Linus was a huge fan, and Isabella loved making tailgating treats.

  Lawrence was not opposed to spending a few hours with the Dawsey’s, and he liked to eat as much as the next man, especially if the food was good.

  “Oh, right,” Lawrence said. “Do they start this season?”

  “Next fall,” he said. “If they can get enough funding and support. They’ve got a site for the stadium, and apparen
tly a coach and a manager.” Linus came alive when talking about football, and Lawrence appreciated that he had something he was passionate about.

  Unfortunately for Lawrence, that was usually tax laws and return on investment percentages. And no one wanted to talk with him about those things for longer than a few seconds. Well, maybe Jasper and Ira. Maybe.

  “That’s great,” Lawrence said as Isabella returned. Her gray hair had been swept up onto the top of her head, and she wore a ball gown. So this must be a fancy charity dinner, with plates that cost in the hundreds.

  “Here you go,” she said, handing him a package of small, white pills. “Straight in your mouth. Take a drink if you want to dissolve them faster. You should feel better in about thirty minutes.”

  How she knew he felt discouraged and depleted just by looking at him, Lawrence wasn’t sure. “Thank you,” he said. “And hey, let me know if they need more donations. I could write a check.”

  “Great.” Linus smiled a final time and then guided Isabella over to the elevator.

  Lawrence took the cell salts as instructed, definitely washing them down with several gulps of his soda, and collapsed onto the couch.

  His phone chimed, and for half a second, he thought it might be Maizee, thanking him for staying with her until the rain subsided. Then helping her down the mountain to her car. And following her to the hospital in Getaway Bay. He’d stayed beside her on the chair too, trying to figure out if he could ask for her number without coming off as creepy.

  So yes, he was considering breaking his dating rules.

  She seemed worth it, and while they hadn’t spoken a whole lot while they waited for someone to take her back into the ER, he definitely felt comfortable with her. She’d sparked something in him that had been dormant for so long, Lawrence wasn’t even sure what it was.

  But the text wasn’t from Maizee, because Lawrence had not conjured up the courage he needed to ask her for her number.

  Which meant it was one of his billionaire friends, none of whom he wanted to talk to at the moment.

  Three

  Maizee stood in front of the mirror, making a tiny adjustment to her earring. She told herself she’d be this meticulous about her appearance for her first day on any job, and that Lawrence Gladstone had no influence over her.

  So maybe she was lying to herself.

  She’d been reading articles written by Lawrence for years, as Gladstone Financial sent out a monthly newsletter for all of its employees. She knew he was smart and so good-looking it was almost a crime.

  But meeting him in the flesh was completely different than seeing a small picture of him on her computer screen. She’d been instantly attracted to him, and he’d shown her kindness for hours, even staying with her at the hospital until a nurse took her back into one of the emergency curtains.

  Thankfully, her ankle had not been broken. Just a bad sprain, and she’d been elevating it and putting ice on it to keep the swelling down. She took more ibuprofen than was probably safe, but she would not be missing her first day at work.

  She couldn’t wear the heels she normally would, but she told herself it didn’t matter. She probably wouldn’t see Lawrence anyway.

  “You don’t care if you do see Lawrence,” she told her reflection. “And be sure to call him Mister Gladstone.” She smoothed down an errant strand of her blonde hair and appreciated the perfect wings she’d gotten on her eyeliner that morning.

  “This is going to be a good day.” She took a big breath and smiled at herself before turning to leave.

  Twenty minutes later, she entered the bank with a key she’d gotten from the branch manager—a man by the name of Willie McMahon.

  Because it was only eight o’clock, she knew she’d be the first one in the bank. But she didn’t care. She knew where her office was, and she wanted to put a potted plant on her desk. She usually put up pictures too, but she hadn’t brought them in today for some reason. Maybe she didn’t want to make this new office in this new branch on this new island to be permanent. Not with her parents still living on the island of Lanai, with both of her sisters very nearby them.

  Maizee was gone now, and while she wanted her family to be surrounding her in this new place, she thought seeing them might sting too much. At least for today.

  She turned on her computer and sifted through the software on it. Maizee should be counting her blessings that there was a branch so close to her beloved Lanai that needed a senior loan officer. Otherwise, she might find herself sitting by herself in a bank in Arizona or Arkansas.

  Maizee pushed away her melancholy mood. This was her chance at a fresh start, and she wasn’t going to dwell on Winn anymore. After all, Winthrop Porter had already taken too many years of her life from her. Years she’d never get back. He didn’t deserve another day.

  So she breathed in again, took a sip of her coffee, and opened her email using the username and password she’d gotten from the IT guy at the branch. At least Lawrence made sure his employees were taken care of.

  Slowly, as the hour passed, the bank around her became busier as more people arrived at work. She’d met them all a couple of weeks ago when she’d been offered the job, but it would take her some time to remember all of their names.

  The coffee dictated when she got up from her desk, her need to use the restroom driving her, and she’d just stepped through the doorway and into the main part of the bank when Lawrence pushed through the glass doors straight ahead of her.

  She gasped, freezing at the glorious sight of him in a two-thousand dollar suit, his dark-roast coffee-colored hair swept to the side like a movie star. He pulled sunglasses from his face and kept his focus on his phone at the same time.

  He tucked one arm of his glasses in his jacket pocket, his thumbs flying as he typed out a message to someone. Maizee desperately wished her phone would chime when he hit send, but he’d never asked for her number.

  She’d thought about asking for his, but she hadn’t been able to come up with a reason why she needed it. And the last thing she needed was to come off as desperate. Besides, she wasn’t going to date someone at work again, and Lawrence was like the Top Dog. The owner of the whole company, not just some manager.

  No way. She could admire him from afar and hate everyone he went out with just fine.

  He navigated the space without looking up—until the staircase only a few steps from her office door. Of course, his office would be on the second floor, but Maizee watched as he misjudged the steps because his phone had completely consumed his attention.

  He stumbled and threw his hand out to catch himself on the handrail, but it wasn’t enough. He fell, his phone making a loud cracking noise on the hard steps.

  “Lawrence,” she said, realizing she’d already used the wrong name a moment too late. She reached him in only a second, and he cradled his face. Didn’t matter. Blood appeared between his fingers, and Maizee put her hand under his arm. “Come on. I have tissues in my office.”

  He came with her, and she tried to use her body to shield him from the rest of the bank as she moved him into her office. “Sit here.”

  He complied, collapsing into the chair across from her desk. She ripped a half-dozen tissues from the box and handed them to him. “Lean your head back.”

  He did that too, took the tissues, and pressed them to his face. His eyes met hers, and that same electric shock that had jumpstarted her heart underneath that banyan tree struck again.

  Maizee did not let herself slip too far into those dark eyes. She cleared her throat and hurried around to the other side of her desk. “I have some painkillers too.” She’d need them for her ankle later today.

  He shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice muffled by the tissues. “How’s your ankle?”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “Not broken, just sprained. I’m wearing a brace for a while.” A flush crept into her face, and she really wished it wouldn’t. She also didn’t know how to make it go away. Her coffee was gone
, so she couldn’t hide behind the to-go cup, and the hot liquid wouldn’t have done anything to cool her down anyway.

  “I was going to call you,” he said, wiping his nose with the tissues and glancing at them.

  Maizee stood up and offered him her garbage can, where he tossed the used tissues before taking more. “You were? Why?”

  “Just to make sure you were okay,” he said. “But then I realized I never got your number.”

  Maizee had no idea what to say. Was he asking for her number now? Her heart jumped around inside her chest, almost painfully. She had no idea what she was doing. Her break-up with Winn was only a couple of months old, and she was nowhere near ready to start dating again.

  Was she?

  “I’m okay,” she finally managed to say. She took her seat behind her desk again, using it as a physical barrier between the two of them.

  “Well, at least you’ve seen me bloody now,” he said with a chuckle, wiping his nose one more time. The bleeding seemed to have stopped. “So maybe we’re even?” He lifted his thick eyebrows, and Maizee almost swooned.

  “I think me being mud-covered and unable to walk is worse than a little bloody nose,” she said, smiling despite her brain’s direct instructions not to do so. Her body seemed to be acting of its own accord no matter what her mind was saying.

  Lawrence laughed again, a delectable sound Maizee wanted to hear right in her ear just before he kissed her.

  Her whole body felt like someone had placed it over a fire, and she needed to get out of this office immediately. She stood, her chair flying out and hitting the wall behind her. “I have to get some files,” she said, when really she’d be running to the bathroom—and not just to hide. “Excuse me.”

  “Of course.” Lawrence stood too, but she didn’t wait for him to leave. She rushed past him, still getting a noseful of his spicy and soft cologne. He smelled like the beach and the forest at the same time, which was completely unfair.

  Maizee made it to the bathroom and locked herself in a stall, her heart galloping like a herd of wild horses. “Calm down,” she whispered to herself. “He’s your boss.”