Billionaire Games Boxed Set 1-3 (51 page)

“I’ll do that this morning.” Nick had managed to calm his tone. He needed this girl’s help, not her rebuttal. “How long do I have before the bank gets nasty about these overdrawn accounts and the maxed out credit line?”

“If the overdraft fees aren’t taken care of in thirty days, the bank will report you to ChexSystems and start collection proceedings. Your first payment of two thousand one-hundred thirty-nine dollars and twenty-four cents will be due on the line of credit in approximately thirty-five days.”

“Thank you. I’ll be down to the bank in a bit to take my ex off the accounts.” Nick hung up the phone and looked at Dean. “Turns out…” Shock flowed like lava through Nick, hot and burning, and nothing could stop it. “Ginny’s a lot more devious than we’ve been giving her credit for being.”

“What’s going on?” Dean’s voice was edgy, nervous.

“I’m in deep shit, Dean. Deep, deep shit.”

CHAPTER NINE

DEIDRA STOMPED HER FEET like a spoiled teenager. At twenty-three, she and Lecie were hardly more than that. But they had to grow up sometime. Maybe just not today.

Lecie chuckled to herself. Deidra’s temper tantrums had always amused her. Today’s was no exception. Although, she wasn’t about to give in to Deidra’s whims. Not this time.

“Let’s find a new place to hang out,” Lecie insisted. “Hang Ten can’t be the
only
cool place on the California coast.”

“But I like their blackened tilapia, and their lemon drop martinis.” Deidra’s tone went nasal. She leaned against the fireplace mantel and stared at Lecie, who was sitting on the couch with her eyes focused on her laptop.

“I’m sure Hang Ten doesn’t have the market cornered on lemon-drop martinis.” Lecie rolled her eyes back to the computer screen for a second, then let her gaze drift back up to her friend.

Deidra pushed off the fireplace. “Are you farming again?”

“No.” Lecie closed the laptop. “I’m not
farming
.”

“You are too!” Deidra moved to the couch and plopped down beside Lecie. “Let’s go out,” she urged. “Interact with the
real
world.”

“The real world sucks.” Lecie put the laptop on the coffee table.

Deidra laughed. “Says the girl who owns this beautiful house—outright, I might add—here in the land of
fun
.”

“Fun is overrated. You shouldn’t get attached to it.”

“Spoil sport.”

“Look…” Lecie cut her eyes at Deidra. “There’s always somebody who will, knowingly or not, stomp on your fun.”

“Say…people who get married, for instance?”

While it’s true, no decent, self-respecting girl wanted to moon over a married man—and Lecie probably would, whether she was in California or France—but that wasn’t what she was talking about.

“I was speaking of Papa.” Lecie rolled her eyes away from Deidra. “You cannot count on any measure of fun to last while my father’s around, lurking in the shadows.”

If Papa was set on Lecie returning home, then she had better be vigilant. With a man like him gunning for her, she didn’t need the distraction that came with having a crush on a married man.

I
nside Hang Ten, the staff moved back and forth between the kitchen, dining and supply rooms, and the outdoor patio in preparation for the lunch crowd that would begin to mill in once the doors opened at eleven.

Dean glanced stealthily around the dining room, then leaned across the table toward Nick. “So what are you going to do?” They both knew what he was talking about.

Nick laughed. Not a jovial laugh, but one of irony. “I owe the bank a hundred and eight grand—” He shrugged. “—and some change. I’d kill myself if it weren’t for the insurance.”

“The insurance?”

“Ginny’s my beneficiary.”

“Ah…” Dean kicked his head back. “You should change that.”

“It’s on my to-do list.” Nick cut his eyes toward Dean and gave him a hard stare. “Right behind trying to fend off bankruptcy.”

“Don’t you have any money in savings?”

“Had,” Nick corrected him. “The key word here is
had
.”

“She wiped out your savings account, too?” Dean shook his head. “Man, that’s tough. What’d you have in there…hundred grand?”

“About seventy grand.” A sadness had invaded Nick’s voice. “It’s all I had left of the money Walter left me.”

Walter Moreland. To hear Nick’s mother tell it, Walter was just an
old friend
. And while Nick’s father had died when Nick was about to turn eleven, the best he could ever recall, Walter Moreland was not a person that his father had ever spoke of. But the way Nick saw it, considering that Nick had been named in Walter’s will, something had gone on between his mother and Walter, hopefully before she married his father.

“Seriously?” Dean’s tone turned gruff, right along with his frown. “She wiped out your inheritance, too? Is that legal?”

“Apparently, the only person in this scenario who committed a crime was me. For being so damned stupid.” Nick flushed hot with an abrupt and vicious indignation. “I added her to my accounts. Gave her carte blanche to rob me blind.”

“You can’t beat yourself up about that.”

“Why not?” Nick’s scoffing laughter had a bite to it. “I’m responsible for my own undoing.”

“Hell, Nick. You were gonna marry the girl. That’s what married people do. They share bank accounts and crap like that.”

“Well let that be a lesson to you.” Nick’s tone was unwavering. He hoped he never forgot the lesson being taught to him now. “Steer clear of marriage, man. And never, ever give someone access to your bank accounts.”

“You’ve learned what
not
to do.” Dean gave him one of those nods, like he knew the direction of this conversation had taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way. He shrugged, and said, “Question is…what are you going to do
now
?”

“I don’t know.” Nick shook his head. “Maybe I can get some credit with the suppliers for the next few months. If I don’t have to pay them, maybe I can make a dent in the money I owe the bank and still keep the community center afloat.”

The community center. It’d been an unmentioned topic hanging in the air between them, ever since Nick found out what Ginny had done to his bank accounts.

Simple truth was, Nick wasn’t the only one in trouble here. If he lost his financial footing the community center would suffer too. Without him, the center would fade away. And if Nick let that happen, it’d be like letting his brother Kevin down all over again.

CHAPTER TEN

Marseilles, France

IN THE BEDROOM SUITE at Pacifique de Lumière, Camille de Laurent’s husband Julian lingered at her side while she perused the jewelry in the box near the dresser.

“Chéri, are you bored with these gems?” he asked. “Try the safe downstairs. I’m sure you’ll find something to your liking in there.”

The
safe
downstairs was a room that easily rivaled the size of any of the stores on Rodeo Drive. It was the de Laurent’s
basement
, and it housed the family’s jewels, unlike the personal items here in Camille’s jewelry chest. These were hers. The stuff down there belonged to the family. But she supposed that one day, most of the jewels down there would be hers. Sort of.

“No…” She laughed playfully. “I’m just procrastinating about what to wear.”

“Whatever you wear,” he said, “it will pale in comparison to your beauty.” His lips brushed temptingly against her cheek.

A blush heated her face, for just a split-second, before she caught it and wrangled it in. “Julian de Laurent.” She looked at his reflection in the mirror, and said, “You’re up to something.”

“Me?” His hand flew to his chest.

“Yes. You.” She nodded. “The question is…what could you possibly be trying to flatter out of me?”

“Chéri, how can you suspect
me
of ulterior motives?” He laid it on thick. Between his velvety-smooth voice, sparkling eyes, and a hint of a smile, a girl could get talked out of her good graces.

But Julian had already done that. No, he wanted something else from her, and Camille wanted to cut to the chase to find out what. “Spill it.”

“I just thought you might like to vacation in California for a while,” he said in a more serious tone.

A pang of longing shot through Camille and wafted out in her voice. “California?”

“Perhaps Tasha could go with you.”

An even better idea. “Maybe we could stay at Lecie’s?” She nodded. Julian grinned, and in that instant Camille knew she’d stumbled upon his motive. “Ah…I see.”

“I think it might be best if you and Tasha go with Gerard. I think your presence will make it easier for her to accept a butler in the house.” Julian stopped and laughed softly. “One she’ll undoubtedly think is Papa’s spy.”

“And just how long is a while?” Caution had invaded her voice.

“Some weeks.” He shrugged. “However long it takes.”

Some weeks? However long it takes?
Why so long? It’s not like Lecie was socially inept. Camille crossed her arms at her waist and peered at Julian through narrowed eyes. “And what else should I be doing while I’m there?”

Julian laughed and waved a surrendering motion at Camille before taking her hand and tugging her toward the chairs by the window. “Well…” He waited for her to sit, then he did. “Now that Lecie knows how far Papa is willing to go to bring her home, she’s bound to retaliate.”

“Would he really have her deported?” That was low even for Maurice.

Julian looked at her and grinned. “In a New York minute.”

“She’s not going to like that.”

“No, she’s not.” Julian paused, and Camille could feel his eyes on her. She shifted her gaze toward him. “That’s where you come in.”

“Me?” she asked with a curious innocence.

“And Tasha,” Julian added.

Camille squinted her eyes. “I’m not going to talk the girl into coming home,” she said, shaking her head. “And I highly doubt that Tasha will either.”

“I don’t want you to talk her into coming home.”

“Then what do you want us to do?”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

SEATED BEHIND THE DESK IN HIS OFFICE, Nick held the telephone’s receiver to his ear. He’d left the door open when he’d come in to make the phone call, and now he mindlessly watched Bethany and Diane ready the dining room for the lunch crowd that’d be pouring in as soon as the doors opened at eleven. Nick checked his watch. 10:15.

Once he got Tony over at Molina’s Bakery on the phone—there was no use talking to anybody else, Tony owned the place and was the only one who could definitively give him a yes—Nick started with a casual, “Morning, Tony, it’s Nick Matthews.”

He could damn near hear Tony tensing up across the airwaves. Uh oh. Was he going to get all weird about the wedding that didn’t happen? Tony said to him, “Nick…I’ve been meaning to give you a call.”

But you thought it might turn out awkward, right?
Nick chuckled to himself. “There’s just never enough hours in the day, are there?” Nick gave him an out, hoping he’d take it.

“Not when you’re the bearer of bad news.” Tony’s voice tightened.

Bad news?
Nick stiffened, straightened in his chair. Did Tony think Nick didn’t know he’d been stood up at the altar? He couldn’t possibly know about the banking issues. Could he? “Well I’ve had plenty of that lately, Tony.”

“And I hate to make things worse for you.”

Worse? How could things possibly get worse? “But you have a job to do.” Nick felt a burning itch prickling at his gut. He could, and probably should, let Tony keep tiptoeing around his point, but Nick said it anyway, “So why don’t you just tell me what you’ve been beating around the bush about.”

Tony cleared his throat. “Nick, your account with us hasn’t been paid in nearly six months.”

“What?” Nick bellowed.

“Ginny kept coming up with excuse after excuse. Mostly to do with how she’d been so busy because of the wedding. Each time we talked, she’d promise to get it in the mail, but if she did, we never received it.” Tony’s voice remained shaky, but he kept talking. “I kept excusing it because of your reputation, but quite honestly, Nick, we can’t extend any more credit or supplies to you until your account is paid in full.”

“Look, Tony, I’ll be straight with you.” Nick sucked in a breath, hating to admit, say it out loud, what Ginny had done. But what else was he supposed to do? Tony Molina wanted his money. He expected it and had every right to it. Trouble was, Nick didn’t have it to give. He had to buy a little more time. “Between you and me, Ginny did more damage than just leaving me at the altar. She cleaned me out.”

There was a silence between them that went on for so long that Nick thought the call might have been dropped. But finally, Tony said in a less than agreeable tone, “I see.” More silence, then he cleared his throat again. “How are you set for supplies?” Tony knew, as well as Nick, that without supplies the restaurant would close right away. And without the restaurant, Nick didn’t stand a chance at coming out of this intact.

“A couple of days. You know the fresh foods come in almost daily.”

“I wish I could help.” But Tony’s voice was so fixed that Nick knew he wouldn’t be getting any more credit from Molina’s Bakery.

Still, he had to try. “But without your breads, I can’t run the restaurant. Without the restaurant, I don’t stand a chance at squaring these debts.”

Debts that Nick owed because of Ginny. It’s a good thing he didn’t know where she was. If he did, he just might kill her.

“I’m sorry. I can’t give you any more credit.”

“What if I can pay for the new order?”

“We’re going to need some form of payment on the unpaid balance, too.” Tony paused. “You might want to consider a mortgage on the restaurant to tide you over.”

Nick nodded. “Hang Ten is already mortgaged.” Nick had already thought about that, but in light of his current financial problem, nobody was going to give him a mortgage on the restaurant. The likelihood of Nick coming out of this on top was not good.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here for you, Nick.” Tony said it like he was doing him a tremendous favor. And he was. The problem with that was, people like Tony Molina always expected something in return for their favors. “You send your order over tomorrow, along with a ten percent payment on the balance and I’ll cover you.”