Page 19 of Trade It All (The Barrington Billionaires 3)
He turned to the page of the journal and began to read with a somewhat defiant interest. If there is something here I’ll find it. By the time he was halfway through the entries he was certain of one thing—the planet was better off without his aunt. The pages overflowed with bitterness, paranoia, and cold decisions to make people pay for betraying her. Strings of numbers, possibly phone numbers, were written with no explanation in the margins. None of it was written in the linear fashion of a sane person. Some numbers appeared scattered, seeming to start on one page and continue on another. There were also several references to his mother being pregnant with twins, then pages had been torn out. He now saw why Emily had wanted to ask his mother about her sister. The animosity his aunt had had for his mother was disturbing. Had that played a role in his mother’s breakdown?
Two nine seven. Was it an area code? He looked it up on his smartphone. It was the country code for the island of Aruba. That was where Kenzi was born. And Kent, her twin, who had died. He read the entries before the torn-out pages again then the ones that followed.
His aunt might have needed phone numbers in Aruba to call and see how Sophie was. After all, his mother had been admitted to the hospital for almost a week when Kenzi and Kent had been premature.
Patrice didn’t sound like someone who would call to comfort her sister.
Lance read the entire journal again, this time earmarking pages that referenced his family. When the streetlights came on and it became difficult to read, Lance closed the book, returned it to his computer bag, and got back into his car. He’d have someone look into those numbers. They were probably nothing, but he couldn’t shelve the journal until he knew for sure. No, he didn’t have the type of security Dax and Asher required, but he had people.
He drove home, stripped, and took a quick shower before flopping on his bed in his lounge pants. Only because he couldn’t not do it, he texted Willa.
I’m sorry I upset you.
When there was no immediate answer, he tossed the phone onto the bed beside him. She’d asked him to stay away, but he couldn’t. He had to know she was okay.
His phone beeped to announce a new message. Willa. I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have left the way I did.
He answered, I’m not sorry I kissed you.
Silence.
He added, I can’t pretend I don’t want you. That’s how I know the difference between you and your sister. You’re the one who reduces me to a bumbling idiot.
Her answer tore at his heart. I can’t do this. I got your flowers. Don’t wait for me, Lance. I won’t change my mind.
He sighed. If she hadn’t kissed him the way she had, he would have been able to accept the finality of her words. She’d clung to him like a returning lover who’d built up a hunger as deep as his for her. There had to be a way to reach her. He almost texted her again, but instead called her.
“Lance—” she said in a panicked voice.
“Willa, don’t hang up. When I look back I see a hundred ways I screwed up with you. The biggest mistake I made was rushing you. I hurt you, and I can’t change that. I can promise it’ll be different this time. If you give us a chance, we’ll go as slowly as you want to.”
“I can’t . . .”
“Tell me what you need, Willa, and we’ll start there.”
For a long moment all he heard was her shaky breathing. “I want to be happy, Lance. I don’t know if I can do that if I open a door to the past.”
“Then we start fresh today.”
“You say that like it’s possible.”
“Anything is possible, Willa, if you want it enough. Do you? Want this?”
He held his breath.
“Yes,” she said softly. “And no. Oh, God, I don’t know. It’s been a long day. I can’t think.”
If he were beside her, his arms would be around her. He used what calmed him to reassure her. “When I start a new project, I don’t design it in one day. I know what I want to build, but creating it takes time. I focus on one element before addressing the next. In the end, my structures surpass safety standards. In earthquakes, other buildings fall, but mine stand. The strength is in the details.”
“And what do you want to build with me?” Willa asked just above a whisper.
“If you’re asking me where this will go, Willa, I don’t know. What I do know is, whatever we have is too damn real to walk away from. That’s where I want to start. I simply want to be with you.”
“I don’t know, Lance. There’s so much—”
“There isn’t, Willa, because I met you for the first time today. Remember? I was the hot guy you bumped into on the street. We took one look at each other, and it was instant lust. I kissed you. I couldn’t help myself. You slapped me and told me I was out of line.”
Lance was rewarded with a chuckle. “You’re crazy.”
“I sent you flowers. You spent the day thinking about how gorgeous I am . . .”
“In my fantasy you’re a little more humble.”
“Your fantasy.” Lance sighed. Finally. “Tell me your version.”
After a quiet moment, Willa said, “We met on the street next to the capitol building. I didn’t know you were the one who had been awarded the contract. You asked me what I thought about the project. I said something that you found so amazing you wrote it down. You said something that made me laugh. We found a coffee shop and talked until it closed . . .” Her voice trailed away.
“What time?” he asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“What time do you want to meet at the capitol building? I’ll bring a notebook and polish my joke-telling skills.”
“I have a job now.”
With Clay. Lance held his tongue. Willa was close to saying yes. “I’ll be on a bench in front of the building at six. Come meet me for the first time, Willa.” He hung up because he had a feeling she needed time before she decided.
Chapter Nine
At five fifty-five, Willa stepped out of a cab and froze just before turning onto the street where Lance said he would be sitting, waiting for her. She leaned back against the cornerstone of a building and took several calming breaths.
Will he be there?
And, if he is, can we really move forward without looking back?
Am I a fool to think it’s possible?
The memory of how good his mouth felt on hers, how much pleasure merely being in his presence brought her, surged through her, but was it worth the risk?
It wasn’t that she was lonely, but that only one man had ever made her feel scandalously impulsive. That man was waiting for her a few hundred feet away. As soon as she stepped from behind the building, she was agreeing to give him a second chance.
“Are you okay?” a beautiful, tall, brunette with more piercings and tattoos than clothing asked.
Willa straightened off the building. “Yes. No.” She chuckled with self-deprecation. “I’m not really sure.”
“You need help?”
Since the other woman probably thought Willa was crazy, Willa didn’t see that she had much to lose by confirming her first impression. “Could you see if there is a man with dark brown hair sitting on a bench just round the corner?”
With an amused expression, the woman stepped away from the building and peered down the street. “There is, and he’s looking around for someone.” The woman smiled and waved. “Yes, I’m waving at you, Mr. Hunk-in-a-Suit. He doesn’t know what to do. How adorable. He just looked away. He’s still looking around. Yep, I’m still here waving at you, Mr. Hot Stuff.” The woman laughed. “He just gave me the I’m not interested cold shoulder. Is he waiting for you?”
If Willa hadn’t been an internal nervous wreck she would have laughed at the playful way the woman had handled the odd request. “Yes.”
The woman gave Willa a long once-over then sized up Lance again. “Is he a cop?”
“No, he’s an architect.”
“So why are you hiding?”
Because I’m a coward. Willa straightened her shoulders and adjusted her purse ben
eath her arm. Correction, I was a coward. Life is about moving forward and growing. If I stay here, or worse turn and leave, what does it say about who I am? I will never be more than the devastated girl I once was. I will have allowed one event to define me. “I’m not,” Willa said firmly and stepped from behind the building. “Not anymore.”
Lance stood as soon as he saw her and the smile on his face brought an answering one to Willa’s. They met halfway and stood for a long moment simply staring into each other’s eyes. Willa broke the silence first. “I hear this whole area will be renovated soon; at least that’s what the papers say.”
“I heard the same. A project like that could have a large impact on the community.”
Without looking away from Lance’s near-black, beautiful eyes, Willa said breathlessly, “There’s so much history here already. I hope they don’t change it as much as they celebrate it. It’s a place where people can and should be heard, but also where they could gather to hear music. I’d love to see the side road closed off and the parking lot made into a park with trees.”
“I’d write that down, but I doubt I’ll forget a word you say to me today,” Lance said with such intensity that Willa believed him. He held out his hand in greeting as if they were meeting for the first time. “My name is Lance.”
Willa shook his hand, loving how his enveloped hers. “Willa.”
“Will-ah you go for coffee with me?” Lance asked with a straight face.
It took a moment for the joke to sink in but when it did Willa laughed and shook her head. “You had all night to come up with a joke and that’s what you chose?” She was smiling, though.
He turned and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and they started walking together down the street. “I hoped it would make you smile, and it did.”
Willa laughed again. How could being with Lance feel so . . . right? Because this is today, not yesterday. And we’re starting again. Being with Lance felt right. They strolled to a café and chose an outside table. Lance held out a chair for her then took the one across from her. They ordered sandwiches and lattes that arrived almost instantly.
