A Billionaire's Love Affair Read online

  And then I heard it.

  Soft breathing from the other side of my bed. I inwardly groaned. Not good. Not good at all. I had a very strict no-sleepover rule. I must have been really drunk last night to pass out with the woman in my bed. I put my hand on the fluffy down comforter and peered over at the back of the woman’s head. She was a blonde but that was about all I could see.

  No sleepovers, Colt. Sleepovers led to confusion.

  The woman was going to expect to have coffee and maybe even lounge around at my place for the day. She was going to expect us to exchange phone numbers and all that nonsense. I didn’t do phone numbers. I felt it was a silly waste of time. I was never going to call them. It would be cruel to make them think I was going to.

  I slipped out of bed, irritated I couldn’t lay there and watch TV while I let my hangover gradually fade away. I wasn’t about to have her wake up and want to cuddle or some shit.

  I walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. I locked it. I didn’t want her getting the idea she was invited into my shower.

  I took my time in the shower before shaving and brushing my teeth. I was really hoping she would be gone when I got out of the shower. I finger-combed my hair that was probably a little too long, but I liked the roguish look it gave me. It made me feel a little younger than my actual thirty years.

  I stepped out of the bathroom dressed in a pair of jeans and a casual polo. I sighed when I saw she was still in my bed. Not what I was hoping for. I walked out of my room and down the hall to the kitchen. I grabbed my phone and called a cab service. With fifteen minutes until the cab arrived, I made myself a cup of coffee.

  I let the caffeine hit my system before I went back to the bedroom. I collected her clothes, holding up the next-to-nothing thong and raising an eyebrow. That explained why she came home with me last night.

  I walked over and touched her bare shoulder. “Hey, it’s time to wake up,” I said, trying to be as gentle as possible.

  She groaned. “Already?”

  “Yep, sorry—” I couldn’t remember her name.

  I wasn’t sure I had ever actually gotten her name. I thought it was an H. Hailey, Hannah? Heidi. Fuck it. It didn’t matter at this point. “Hey,” I said again.

  She pulled the blanket down, exposing one very large, likely unnatural breast. “Why are you dressed?” she cooed. “Maybe you should get back in here.”

  “I’ve got work to do,” I said and put her clothes on the bed. “I’ve called you a cab.”

  She wrinkled her nose and rubbed her eyes. “It’s Sunday. Who works on Sunday?”

  I softened the rejection with a smile. “Charity work never takes a day off.”

  She smiled, clearly okay with my excuse. I left the room while she dressed—I wasn’t a total douchebag—and walked her out to the front of the building where the cab was waiting. I opened the door for her. She paused. “Give me a call again sometime. I left my number on the dresser.”

  I winked. “I’ll do that,” I said with a friendly smile.

  When she leaned in for a kiss, I let her hit my cheek before I said my goodbyes. I headed back up to my penthouse and grabbed my coffee from the counter before taking a seat on the couch. I flipped on the TV to a news station, catching up on the happenings overnight before turning it off again.

  I made myself my usual omelet and another cup of coffee before pulling out my laptop and going through emails. Last night was a last hurrah of sorts. Tomorrow was a big day for me. I had spent the better part of my twenties traveling the world and partying. The Bancroft money made it possible. When my big brothers, Grayson and Jack, who ran the family business, got a little cranky about my philandering ways, I had to come back. Truthfully, the homesickness was a big motivator in my return. It surprised me that I felt that way at all.

  I was the head of the Bancroft Foundation. It was our family’s charity. I could admit I had done very little to make it a successful venture, much to the disappointment of our mother. The last thing I wanted to do was disappoint her. It was time to come home and settle down. The last six months or so had been spent talking up the charity.

  I was ready to make my mark on the family legacy. The foundation was going to be my contribution to honoring our late father and making my mother proud. I was the fourth oldest out of six boys. Grayson and Jack had followed in my father’s footsteps and took over the family business. You could really only have so many CEOs in one company.

  Mason, third in line, had gone a very different direction. He was the wild child. That was a hard name to earn in our family. All of us were wild in our own way, but Mason was an outright outlaw. The dude even rode a Harley and kept his hair long. Then there was Channing. He and I were the travelers. We were always on the move. The youngest, James, was a mama’s boy through and through. None of us gave him too much shit about it because if it wasn’t for him, our mom would be alone. James took care of her. He lived in the Bancroft mansion and made sure she was okay.

  “And now it’s my time,” I said aloud in my big open penthouse.

  Tomorrow was the day I officially launched the Bancroft Foundation home base in New York City. Tomorrow, it was going to be a lot of pomp and circumstance, cutting ribbons, smiling a lot and shaking hands of the wealthy elites in the city with the hopes of getting their money.

  I went over the notes from my assistant. Tomorrow, I had to be at the top of my game. I needed to be charming. I needed to present myself as a confident manager of a hell of a lot of money. I read through the talking points my PR guy put together. The goal was to make it sound like the issues were important to me. It couldn’t sound rehearsed.

  I cleared my throat. “My family looks forward to giving back to fellow New Yorkers as well as people from all around the world. I have spent the last six months personally visiting and speaking with various organizations that could benefit from our foundation. I have personally vetted each organization and will continue to look for local organizations that are in need of funding. My family is excited to give back to the community and we look forward to growing our funds with the help of all of you good people.”

  I wrinkled my nose. That sounded cheesy. It wasn’t natural for me, but it was the blurb my PR guy put together. The guy was paid to make me sound good. I wasn’t dumb enough to ignore his good advice. I got up and carried my laptop with the speech pulled up on the screen and went into my bathroom. I practiced the speech in the mirror, inserting a smile here and there and making a sad face when I spoke of the impoverished who desperately needed our help.

  I rehearsed the speech over and over until I got it down. I needed it to be perfect. Grayson and Jack were going to be there. It had to be good. “Dammit,” I groaned.

  I hated that I cared. I didn’t hate my big brothers, but they were the bosses. They’d been the de facto rulers of the company, and therefore the family, since our father died. They kept us all very rich. The way they ran the company ensured we all had full coffers. Although we all made our own money as well.

  I wasn’t going to pretend I didn’t enjoy the perks of being born into a ridiculously wealthy family. I traveled. I partied. I spoiled myself with nice things. Life had been very good for me.

  But now it was time to settle down and do my part to contribute. I needed to quit being a mooch. Soon, Channing and James would have to play their role in the family business. That was assuming anyone could find Channing. He was probably in some jungle or way out in an African desert taking pictures. Channing was a nomad. He didn’t live in the lap of luxury like the rest of us. He was probably under the stars and eating bugs.

  It kind of felt like we were falling like dominoes. I supposed it was the curse of the thirties. We hit thirty and it was time to grow up. Our mother would be thrilled. We were all coming home to roost. I just hoped she didn’t expect me to go the way of my older brothers. I was not going to settle down and play house with anyone. No woman was getting a ring on my finger.

  I was settling do
wn in New York, but that didn’t mean I was slowing down in other areas of my life. I still had needs and I doubted one woman could fill those needs. I had to keep my options open. I heard my phone ringing in the living room and went out to grab it.

  “Hey, Mom,” I answered.

  “Good afternoon, son. Will you be coming for Sunday dinner?”

  I inwardly groaned. I was hoping she would forget I was in town. “I have a lot to get done tonight.”

  “It’s two hours at the most. You can spare it. There is nothing more you can do to prepare for tomorrow.”

  “Mom, I’d really like to—”

  “Great! I’ll see you at six.”

  She hung up. That was my mother. She was a kind woman, but she was not a pushover. She raised six boys and we were always more afraid of her than our father. Mama was a sweet woman, but damn, piss her off and your life was going to be rough.

  Knowing there was no way out of the dinner, I planned on going. I reviewed other details about tomorrow’s events and made notes for myself before closing the laptop. Mom wasn’t wrong. I didn’t have much to do. I was just hoping to be lazy and hang out at home. It was payback for lying to what’s-her-name this morning. Now I actually did have plans for the night.

  Chapter 3

  Maisie

  I pulled on my warm socks before pushing my feet into my boots with the mismatched shoelaces. The boots were secondhand and in great shape, but the laces were always breaking on me. I jumped up from my bed and grabbed my jacket. It was always like this. No matter how early I set my alarm or the promises I made to be ready to go early, I was late.

  “Are you ready?” I hollered from my room.

  “Two minutes,” Donna called out.

  I wrapped my scarf around my neck and rushed downstairs. “Hurry up! We’re going to be late. We have to go now.”

  “Guys,” Evan said in his usual calm tone. “Relax. Every time you think you are going to be late, you are on time.”

  “Why are you still here?” I said when I saw him sitting on the couch casually sipping coffee.

  “My first session canceled for this morning. She’s never going to make it in the gymnastics world. She is always skipping training. This is not a hobby for the weak at heart or the social butterfly who wants to hang out with friends instead of training.”

  “But you still get paid, right?” I said.

  He looked up and grinned. “Damn straight I do. I have a clause in my contracts with anyone I train, specifically for flakes like her.”

  “Good for you. You get to sit at home and be toasty warm and get paid.”

  “Don’t try to make me feel guilty about not going,” he said. “I have another class scheduled in forty-five minutes.”

  “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. You deserve an easy morning.”

  I dashed out of the living room and into the kitchen. I was hoping to grab a sip of coffee before we had to go. Bruno was in the kitchen wearing his usual work attire. Black slacks and a light pink dress shirt that was pressed and made him look like one of the Wall Street guys I hated so much. He really was a handsome man. Evan was a lucky dude. Of course, Evan was just as handsome.

  “Is there coffee?” I asked.

  He smiled and handed me two travel mugs. “I already made and poured.”

  “Oh goodness, you’re a lifesaver. Thank you, Bruno.”

  Donna rushed in behind me like the Tasmanian Devil. “I’m ready. Not even late. Let’s roll.”

  “Bruno made us coffee.”

  “And lunch,” he said and held up two paper bags.

  “What?” I asked with surprise. “You didn’t.”

  “I did. You two never eat, especially when you are out changing the world.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I told him. I was a little embarrassed to need the goodie bag he prepared. It did hurt my pride just a little to know I couldn’t afford some of the basic necessities in my life all the time.

  “I wanted to do it,” he said in a soft voice. “You girls are an inspiration. It is people like you who make a difference. I sometimes feel guilty for going to work at my corporate job while you guys slave away on the front lines.”

  “It’s not like it’s a hardship. We both enjoy what we do.”

  “Exactly,” Donna said with a laugh. “We love screaming at strangers and holding up signs in the freezing cold.” She snatched one of the bags and looked inside. “Oh my god! You are a godsend.”

  I took the other bag and checked out the contents. “Bruno! This is too much.”

  “You girls deserve it. You need to stay strong, my little crusaders. I know you never eat when you are out there. Maisie, if you lose another pound, you are seriously going to blow away in the next storm.”

  “Ha, ha, I’m fine.”

  “He’s right,” Donna said. “I could probably carry you in my pocket.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Like I’ve never heard that before.”

  “Eat,” Bruno said. “I’ll pick up some groceries after work. You have to keep your strength up.”

  “This is expensive food,” I told him. “Yogurt, bananas, granola, and a sandwich.”

  “I didn’t get too fancy with the sandwich. It’s just PB and J.”

  “Still, this is a big deal. I don’t know how I’ll ever pay you back for all your generosity. I promise I’m going to try and pick up extra shifts at the bookstore.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I can’t be as active as you ladies, but I like to think I’m doing my part. I’m the support team.”

  “You are a huge help. Thank you so much.”

  “What is it today?” he asked.

  “Feed the kids,” Donna said. “The women’s shelter is low on food. People are so damn stingy after the holidays. It’s like they think kids don’t need to eat from December through March when they loosen up those purse strings again.”

  Bruno shook his head. “You need to go after the big corporations. They are the ones rolling in the money right now after the holiday boost.”

  “That’s a good idea!” Donna exclaimed. “We need to start knocking on those giant high-rises.”

  “They have security. It isn’t like we can just knock on those giant glass doors. We need an in.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Are you chumming up to someone rich?”

  I curled my lips. “No. As if!”

  She burst into laughter. “But that really could be a good option, you know. Maybe we need to go out to one of those swanky bars where all the suits go. If you could snag one of those uppity ups, we would have an in.”

  “You do it!” I shot back. “You’ve got all the same parts I do.”

  “Hey, I bet you some of those boys want other parts,” Bruno interjected.

  “Good, then you go,” I told him.

  “Not a chance in hell,” Evan shouted from the living room.

  “Seriously,” Donna started again. “I’m not saying you have to pimp yourself out. We go, have a few drinks, get a few phone numbers.”

  “Let’s go,” I told her. She could really get going on a tangent if I let her. “We’re going to miss the bus and we don’t have money for a cab and I sure as hell am not walking in this weather.”

  “Thanks, Bruno,” we called out as we rushed out of the house. We raced for the bus stop and managed to get there just in time to catch the bus that would take us to downtown Manhattan. We settled in, taking seats near the back.

  “What does that say?” I asked, nodding at the newspaper in the seat across the aisle.

  She leaned over and handed it to me. “Why do you read that garbage? It’s nothing but a bunch of puppets telling you what they want you to know. They don’t tell you what’s really going on in the world.”

  “Bancroft Foundation to open office doors today,” I read the headline aloud.

  “Bancroft? Aren’t they that filthy-rich family that owns half of New York?”

  I nodded, my eyes scanning the article that was no
thing more than a fluff piece meant to boost some rich jerk’s ego. “Yes,” I said and tossed the paper back on the empty seat. “Rich and pretending to do something good for others by opening another fancy office in another high-rise.”

  “They don’t have a clue how to run a charity. They are morons pretending to give a shit while feasting on caviar and drinking five-hundred-dollar bottles of champagne in the name of charity.”

  I shook my head. “They don’t know shit about what they are supposedly trying to donate to. I’m so sick of these self-serving people trying to make themselves look good. These guys only care about themselves. They are chauvinistic pigs. They want fast cars and faster women, all while wearing suits that could feed a hundred kids for a month.”

  “They will never understand,” she said. “They don’t want to understand. If they really got their hands dirty and worked the front lines like we do, they would get it. But they’ll never do that because they are too busy making money and even busier spending it.”

  I looked out the window, passing a woman carrying a purse that probably cost more than the house we lived in. “It isn’t that I hate them because they are rich, and I certainly don’t think they have to give away all of the money they earned, but I hate the pretend charity. Either you do it and mean it, or go away and quit playing in a world you don’t belong in.”

  “Hey, I belong in the poor world,” she said.

  “You know what I mean. Like that guy. What does he know about the kids that are too embarrassed to ask for seconds in the lunch line or the kids that are trying to sneak food home so they have something to eat for dinner?”

  “Stop,” she groaned. “I know, I get it. You are bringing me down. We have to keep our heads up. We are doing what we can with what we have.”

  I let out a long sigh. “I just wish I could do more.”

  “I’m eating.” She opened the bag and pulled out her sandwich. “Eat. We can’t carry around a sack lunch at the rally. It will get lost or in the way.”