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  Catching the Billionaire

  Elizabeth Blakely

  Copyright © 2020 by Elizabeth Blakely

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations embodied in a book review and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

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  Contents

  Catching the Billionaire

  1. Staci

  2. Brandon

  3. Staci

  4. Brandon

  5. Staci

  6. Brandon

  7. Staci

  8. Brandon

  9. Staci

  10. Brandon

  11. Staci

  12. Brandon

  13. Staci

  14. Brandon

  15. Staci

  16. Brandon

  17. Staci

  18. Brandon

  19. Staci

  20. Brandon

  21. Staci

  22. Brandon

  23. Staci

  Thank you

  About the Author

  Catching the Billionaire

  Elizabeth Blakely

  Chapter One

  Staci

  I watched as Mama, then Ellie placed a white rose on the coffin. Then, it was my turn. I stepped closer to the grave, the smell of damp earth and the salt of tears mingling on my tongue. My cheeks were hot, a stark contrast to the chill in the air.

  “I love you, Daddy.” I clutched the rose to my chest, before finally tossing it alongside the others.

  My younger sister, Amy, went last. Her nose was pink from crying and the cold, and she sniffled as she tossed her rose on the casket. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder when she rejoined me. My older sister, Ellie, did the same for Mama. Pastor Todd said a few words, and then it was over. A life boiled down into a ten-minute speech. It seemed wrong somehow, as if the sum of his achievements had been reduced to nothing more than a whisper of words on the wind.

  Pastor Todd gestured to me, and I stepped forward again and cleared my throat. Mama had asked me to sing a song, and I’d selected I Learned from You. I closed my eyes and took a breath to steady myself. As I sang the lyrics, I poured all my fears, all my love into them. It was an ode to my father, a song about strength and belief and courage. When the last note hung in the air, the sound of it was more haunting than the original version. My shoulders relaxed, any remaining strength leaving me.

  “Thank you, Staci,” Mama said. “That was beautiful.” I was just relieved I’d made it through without my voice cracking.

  Pastor Todd nodded. “The voice of an angel.”

  “Come on,” Ellie said, taking the lead as Mama sagged against her.

  Mama was exhausted; we all were. This should’ve been a time of celebration, not mourning.

  The doctors had recently declared that Mama’s cancer was in remission. After years of stress and worry, we could finally breathe again. And then…this.

  Daddy had been grocery shopping with Amy when it happened. He collapsed without warning, lying on the linoleum floor as she screamed for help. Within the hour, he was gone. Brain aneurysm.

  His death left a gaping hole in our family. And now the four of us were drifting through life like the survivors of a war-torn landscape. Though, it was the fields and forests of my heart that had been ravaged.

  Snow swirled around us as we trudged toward the car in our black dresses and black shoes. The only thing colorful about us were our coats, but that couldn’t be helped. There was barely enough money in the budget for the headstone, let alone a new coat. And my dreams of moving to Austin or Nashville to pursue a career in music? Impossible.

  Ellie helped Mama into the passenger seat before settling in behind the wheel. Christmas Carols played softly on the radio, reminding me just how quickly things could change—in an instant. One minute, the five of us were sitting around the table eating Thanksgiving dinner, and now we were burying Daddy. As I glanced out the window at the line of graves, I felt the tears start afresh. What would become of us now?

  At home, friends and neighbors stopped by to pay their respects and deliver lasagna, green bean casserole, and King Ranch Chicken. We had so many casseroles we’d run out of space in the fridge. Then there were the endless hugs, the hushed whispers. I knew they meant well, but it would’ve been better if they’d kept their mouths shut.

  Poor girl.

  No one should have to watch their father die on the floor of a supermarket.

  Amy had already fled to her room, and I was glad for it. I tried to stay busy, so I wouldn’t get drawn into conversation. It was difficult enough to bite my tongue as it was. All the while, Ellie handled the situation with poise and grace, greeting guests on Mama’s behalf.

  “Mama,” I said, crouching down next to her.

  She was slumped in an armchair, her gaze fixated on Daddy’s matching one. It was empty, as no one dared sit in it. I understood. Even though Daddy was gone, he still had a very tangible presence in the house. He was there in the coffee mugs and the worn leather recliner. In the record collection and the novel he’d been reading. Everywhere I looked, there were reminders of the larger-than-life man who would never draw breath again.

  “Come on,” I said, placing her arm around my neck and helping her stand. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

  I stayed with her until her eyes closed, then I slipped out of the room. I took a deep breath, smoothing my hands down my skirt. I felt old and young all at once. And as I stood in the hallway, looking at the pictures of our family lining the wall, I knew nothing would ever be the same.

  A few days passed and life returned to normal. Well, as normal as it could be with this gaping hole in our hearts. Amy went back to school. Ellie and I returned to work. And Mama drifted through the house in a daze, at least when she hadn’t shut herself in her room.

  I’d just reached the bottom of the stairs when I heard Mama and Ellie talking in hushed voices. Amy was at school, and I was about to leave to pick her up. I hovered just out of sight of the kitchen, listening to their conversation.

  “Another bill came today,” Ellie said, shuffling some paper.

  “What are we going to do?” I hated hearing Mama sound so downcast.

  The cancer and subsequent treatments had depleted her body and spirit. And now, my father’s sudden death had broken her heart. She was a shell of herself after battling cancer only to lose the love of her life.

  There was a deep sigh. “I don’t know,” Ellie said. “We were barely getting by with Daddy’s salary, and now…” Her words hung in the air.

  “We could sell the house. Move somewhere smaller, less expensive.” My stomach clenched at Mama’s suggestion. This was the only home I’d ever known.

  Even if I had always imagined moving to Nashville or Austin for my music, that was different. It would’ve been my choice, on my terms. And I’d always thought I’d be able to come home.

  “I’m not sure it would be enough,” Ellie said. “Even if we moved, and I found a second job, there are still a lot of unpaid medical bills.”

  They tried to shield Amy and me, but I knew the truth—we were penniless. Mama’s treatments, plus the cost of raising three daughters, had depleted the bank accounts. Between Ellie and Daddy, we’d
been scraping by. My meager paycheck barely paid for a week’s worth of groceries. But now…

  “I could get a job,” Mama said, brightening. “Maybe the bank’s hiring. Or maybe there’s something seasonal. A lot of companies bring on extra people around the holidays.”

  She’d worked at the bank before she got sick, but she hadn’t had a job in years. She couldn’t work. Though the cancer was in remission, she was still weak.

  “Mama.” Ellie’s voice was gentle, and I could just imagine her placing her hand over Mama’s. “You can’t. Your immune system is shot.”

  “I know.” Another deep sigh. “I just hate feeling so useless.”

  “You’re not useless,” Ellie said.

  Sometimes I wondered what we’d do without Ellie. She kept the family going.

  When Mama got sick, Ellie took a job as an office assistant for an attorney. When Amy needed cupcakes for the PTA bake sale, Ellie baked them. When Daddy stressed about money, Ellie cut coupons and figured out how to feed us on a shoe-string budget. For a family that was close-knit, the crisis wove the fabric of our relationship even tighter. Money was in short supply; love was not.

  Then Daddy was taken from us in a cruel trick of fate. All this time we’d been so focused on Mama’s health…we’d never seen it coming. But who could? Brain aneurysms often struck without warning. They were by their very nature unexpected. Sudden.

  A cell phone rang, jolting me from my spot. I glanced at the time on my phone and rushed toward the door, knowing I’d be late if I didn’t get a move on.

  When I arrived at the school, Amy was sitting on the steps outside. It was cold, but she didn’t seem to notice. Students laughed and talked around her, but her shoulders were slumped, her eyes glued to a book. I wondered what it was this time—Treasure Island or perhaps Mutiny on the Bounty. She was as obsessed with adventure novels as I was with music. It was my passion, my escape.

  She glanced up, perhaps sensing my presence. In the past, she would’ve greeted me with a huge grin. But since Daddy’s death, she’d been withdrawn, quiet. It made my heart ache to see my usually boisterous sister so dispirited.

  “Hey,” I said, when she climbed in the passenger seat. “How was school?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Fine.”

  “Do you have any homework?” I asked.

  “No.” She stared straight ahead.

  Typically, you couldn’t get Amy to stop talking. These one-word, one-syllable answers were unsettling.

  “What are you reading?” I asked.

  “Peter Pan.”

  “Ooh, a classic,” I said, trying to infuse my voice with enthusiasm.

  Usually, she’d launch into an excited tale about swashbucklers and exploration. Not today. In fact, glancing at her again, she seemed rather pale.

  “Are you feeling okay?” I asked, placing the back of my hand to her forehead. Her skin didn’t feel warm.

  She huffed, jerking away from my touch. I tried not to take it personally, even though her reaction stung.

  “I’m fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and burrowed into the seat. “Actually, you know what—” She coughed. “I think I might be coming down with something.” Cough. Cough.

  Faker.

  “I guess I’ll have to finish off that pie from Mrs. Whitaker,” I said, knowing how much Amy enjoyed our elderly neighbor’s apple pie. “You’ll need to stick to chicken noodle soup if you’re going to get better.”

  I could see her waring with the decision. Keep quiet and miss school or fess up and enjoy the pie. It was really good pie.

  “But…it has apples in it. Surely, that qualifies as healthy?” she asked.

  I had to laugh at her argument. “You’d think so, but no. How about this—you tell me what’s bothering you, and I’ll let you have pie when we get home from school. Won’t even make you wait until after dinner.”

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Really.” I stopped at one of the few stoplights in town.

  Her voice was quiet when she spoke. “Am I going to have to live in foster care?”

  I jerked my head back. “What? Why would you ask that?”

  “Some of the kids were talking about it at school today. They said that with Daddy dead and Mama sick, I could be taken away.”

  A sudden irrational urge to strangle those kids rose within me before I quashed it. “No, baby. Mama’s getting better. And even if something happened to her, Ellie and I would take care of you.”

  “You promise?” she asked as the light turned green, and I pressed on the gas.

  “I promise,” I said, glancing over at her before returning my attention to the road. “We are sisters, and I will always look out for you.”

  She seemed to relax after that. And though she was quiet the rest of the drive home, she did tell me a few things about Peter Pan.

  “You’re back,” Ellie called as we walked through the door. She seemed overly cheerful, and it immediately made me suspicious.

  Kind as Ellie was, she was typically more reserved. And after the conversation I’d overheard earlier, I knew we really had nothing to be cheerful about.

  “I’m going to go get some pie,” Amy said, dropping her backpack on the bench by the door.

  Ellie glared at me. “Pie? Before dinner?”

  I shrugged. “She had a tough day. I bribed her with pie to get her to talk.”

  “What happened?” Ellie ask, her stance softening as she crossed her arms over her chest.

  She looked tired. Her eyes were red, and her skin pale. Her chestnut hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she had a defeated air about her.

  “Just some kids saying dumb things,” I said, not wishing to upset her more.

  Mama and Amy’s voices floated out to us from the kitchen. I headed that direction, grateful there was still casserole so we wouldn’t have to cook. More than that, I was grateful we didn’t have to grocery shop. After what had happened, I didn’t want to set foot in that store again. Unfortunately, the only other grocery store was an hour’s drive.

  “Mama wants to talk to us.” Ellie’s expression gave nothing away.

  “Okay,” I said, drawing out the word.

  When we entered the kitchen, Mama and Amy were dishing out the pie. “Do you want some?” Mama asked me, gesturing to the dessert.

  I shook my head feeling sick to my stomach. If she was offering me pie before dinner, it must be serious. “No thanks.”

  “Take a seat,” she said, and Ellie and I joined them at the table. “I spoke with Aunt Karen, and she’s invited us to come live with her.”

  “We’re moving?” Amy asked, her mouth still full of pie.

  “Manners,” Mama said at the same time Ellie said, “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

  “And yes. We’re moving to Dallas.” Though Mama’s smile was forced, it also reflected relief.

  “When?” Amy asked, this time after she’d finished swallowing her food.

  “Next week,” Ellie said.

  “Next week?” Amy and I cried at the same time.

  I turned to Ellie. “What about your job?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “I’ll give notice. Uncle Steve said there’s an opening at his law firm.”

  “Who cares about her job,” Amy said, and I was glad that she was still too young to understand just how dire our situation was. “What about school and Mr. Wiggles?” she asked, referring to her pet rabbit. “And…and the house? And how will we visit Daddy?”

  Mama burst into tears at the last question. Ellie wrapped her arm around Mama, and patiently addressed all of Amy’s concerns. My mind was spinning with questions of my own, but my heart hummed with excitement.

  The big city. A fresh start. Adventure. Maybe this was just what we needed.

  Chapter Two

  Brandon

  “Looking good today, man,” I said to Tristan as we walked off the field, helmets in hand.

  I lifted the hem of my jersey, using it to w
ipe away the sweat from my forehead. With playoffs only a few weeks away, it was go time. Every pass, every run, every play counted for the team. Plus, there was the not insignificant matter of my twelve-million-dollar contract. It was up for renewal come the end of the season.

  When we reached the locker rooms, I removed my pads then sank down on the bench. My knee had been acting up, and I rubbed it hoping to ease some of the ache.

  “You okay?” Tristan asked, opening the locker next to mine.

  He was a few years younger than me and a talented athlete. As the Eagles’ starting wide receiver, he’d earned a reputation for himself as The Monk. He was dedicated, disciplined, and utterly devoted to football. He didn’t date, he didn’t drink, but he did have a weakness—sugar. The guy had a serious sweet tooth, though he didn’t indulge during the season.

  “I’m fine.” I stood quickly, gathering my stuff for a shower.

  I was only twenty-nine but sometimes I felt like an old man, especially lately. But that’s what seven years of playing professional football did to you. The job was a dream come true, but it came at a high cost. To all outward appearances, I was lean muscle and chiseled six-pack abs. But my joints were deteriorating. It took longer to recover after an intense workout. And in this line of work, I was practically ancient.

  Nash, one of the rookies, strode into the locker room like he owned the place. He was a tight end, like me. And he’d been gunning for my position since day one. Too bad I wasn’t planning on retiring any time soon.