Her Billionaire Heartthrob: Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Page 5

  “Work?” she finally asked.

  “Yeah,” he said absently. “Technically, I’m on a leave of absence, but I found a loophole this morning.”

  “A loophole?”

  “The manager in Albuquerque is new and has no idea that his contact person for the time being is Fiona. I reached out to see how things are going, and we’ve been messaging ever since.”

  “You’re like an addict,” she told him.

  “Hmmm?” he asked, distracted.

  She let out a short, annoyed breath. “We’re here.”

  He paused typing on his phone to stare up at the building. “It’s kind of creepy.”

  “In a good way, though.”

  He lifted a skeptical brow. “Is there a good way to be creepy?”

  “Yes, and that doll is it.”

  She followed his gaze through the display window, deep into the theater, where the top of the doll’s head could be seen.

  “Uh, I hadn’t seen the doll head before. That’s worse.” He shuddered.

  “Did the doll come with the sale of the building?” Viola asked as he removed a key from his pocket and unlocked the door.

  “Everything inside is mine now,” he replied. “I actually haven’t been in the building yet.”

  “Too freaked out to come in by yourself?” she teased.

  He tapped his nose like she got it exactly right, and she laughed.

  Dust motes danced in the light coming in from the few uncovered windows, and a thick layer of grayish dust covered the green, velvet curtains pushed to the side of the front windows.

  “A bit of a fixer-upper,” Liam said.

  The ticket counter was chipped, a pile of left-behind tickets still sitting in an open drawer. An old, black register—missing several keys—was open and empty. They walked into the lobby, where Viola turned in a circle and gasped. The murals and the hand-written movie quotes on the wall were stunning. She’d completely forgotten that this was here, but her mind caught on an image of her young self being awed by the vibrant walls. It was like a treasure in and of itself. It had all faded over time, leaving everything muted and grayish.

  “It sad to see it like this,” she murmured, tracing her finger on one of the cracked words on the wall. “It used to be so vibrant and full of life.”

  When Liam didn’t reply, she turned to him and found that he was typing on his phone again. Anger rushed through her. It reminded her of Hawaii, bringing back all those feelings of being abandoned.

  She pushed past him to head into one of the two theater rooms. She walked reverently toward the doll, which sat like a lone child in a theater chair, staring toward an empty screen. The doll had brown, braided hair, a blue calico dress, and a few hairline cracks on her face and arms.

  Viola turned from her, fighting the shivers that wanted to erupt on her arms. She counted the velvet chairs instead—eighty—and walked toward the long, dusty curtain at the front of the room. She pulled it aside to reveal a movie screen. When she turned toward the back of the room, she spotted the projector up high.

  Scuffling behind her told her that Liam had come into the room too.

  “Incredible, isn’t it.”

  “Hmmm,” he replied, still distracted by his texting.

  A burst of hot anger rushed through her. Before she could think too much about it, she snagged his phone straight out of his hands.

  “Viola?” He blinked as though coming out of a trance. She marched over to an open vent and dropped it in, both of them hearing the clanking as it traveled all the way down the duct toward the basement.

  The anger cooled in an instant, as the thudding of the phone stopped.

  What in the world had she done?

  “I’m so sorry,” she said to Liam, who still looked as shocked about what she’d done as she felt. “You were on the phone nonstop and it reminded me of Hawaii, so I snapped. I’m sorry.”

  He nodded slowly, then swallowed, his hand flexing in front of him. A bead of sweat popped on his forehead, and his jaw tightened.

  “Is it happening again?” she asked, feeling a little panicked herself. He looked how he had after they’d run into that mob of tourists.

  He nodded his head once. Crap. Why had she been so impetuous, taking his phone from him like that? Even now, they could hear the vibrations reverberating against the metal from wherever it landed, alerting them to another text.

  “This is stupid,” he said, sounding out of breath. “I can buy another phone.”

  “I’ll go look for that one. It’s probably within arm’s reach of the opening of another duct.” She went to rush out to the lobby to find the basement entrance, but his hand reached out and grabbed hers, stopping her.

  He was breathing through his nose quickly. Last time, he’d said that distraction helped him, and she tried to think of something to tell him.

  She met his eyes before tearing them away to look around the room. “You asked me last week why I like this building so much, and I didn’t tell you the entire truth. I do love it, and I have wanted to get my hands on that paint outside since I got my master’s degree, but it’s more.”

  He was looking at her, his breathing coming at less rapid intervals. Good. She kept talking.

  “One of the only memories I have of my dad and mom is coming to this theater. I could only have been four years old, and I sometimes wonder if I actually remember it, or if Grandma has told me about it so many times that it’s ingrained in my mind.”

  “Where are your parents?” Liam asked, his words still a little breathy.

  “Who knows where my dad is,” she replied. “After my mom died of cancer, he stuck around for a few months, but then he split town, and Grandma and I haven’t seen him since. Almost twenty-five years now.” She hated admitting that her father had left her when she was so young, that he hadn’t bothered to stick around. She’d been to enough therapy to know that it was about him and not about her, but it was still something she hated telling people.

  “But before he left and before Mom died,” she continued, not looking at Liam and not giving him a chance to respond, “we came to this theater and watched a movie together. I can’t even remember what movie it was now, but I remember sitting in those velvet seats and being sandwiched between them.” She’d had no idea what was coming. It was one of the last times Viola would be so innocent about hurt and loss.

  Liam’s grip on her hand had loosened, and he seemed to be more or less back to normal, though he stared out the dingy window now instead of looking at her. “I’m sorry I reacted that way over a stupid phone,” he said. “Thank you for telling me that story about your family.”

  She debated saying something more, not wanting to accidentally send him into another spiral, but in the end, it needed to be said, and she was a fountain of stories for distraction if she triggered another panic attack. “Liam,” she started softly. “Are you seeing anyone for this? A doctor or a therapist?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I’d convinced myself that I just needed more rest. But I think I have a real problem.”

  She wondered if he even realized that he still held her hand, his thumb absently brushing along the inside of her palm in a steady motion, making it impossible to think clearly. She cleared her throat. “I just want you to feel better, whether that’s meditation, medication, or therapy. Or probably all three for a while.”

  He nodded. “You may be right.”

  “There’s a therapist in my office building.” She paused, considering. “Although you can probably afford to go to the best therapist in the country.”

  “I probably could.” He smiled wryly. “Poor little billionaire, right?”

  “Hey.” She stopped him with a squeeze to his hand. She’d seen all the headlines that said something similar. “Having money doesn’t mean you stop having problems. Your dad died last year, and you’ve had a lot of pressure on you in addition to not getting enough sleep. Cut yourself a break, okay?”

  He nodded, but s
he wasn’t sure if he believed her or not.

  “Let’s go find your phone,” she suggested. “I still can’t believe I threw it down the duct.” She’d been known for impetuous acts all through her childhood, and though she hadn’t managed to curb them completely, she generally managed to not throw people’s phones down air ducts on a regular schedule.

  “Leave it,” he said, his voice sounding completely normal this time. “I’m probably better off without it. I should have been listening to you and not so distracted with work. It’s a hard habit to break.”

  “Maybe the doll possessed us,” she said.

  He laughed at that. “Then I guess I’ve had a doll following me around for the last year.” He tugged on her hand, heading toward the lobby.

  “I wonder what happened here?” he asked. The feeling of abandonment was so prevalent, Viola could almost choke on it.

  “I don’t know if anyone knows. One day the theater was open, the next day, it was closed, and everything was gone.”

  Liam locked the door behind them and walked Viola back to her office. She threw her arms around him spontaneously, giving him a quick, tight hug, then stepped back. “Thanks.”

  “For what?” He lifted a quizzical brow.

  “For taking me inside the theater. I’ve wanted to do it for a long time.”

  He took a hat out of his back pocket and put it on, tugging it low over his forehead, flashing her a disarming smile.

  “Anytime.”

  He left, but a moment later, she heard footsteps on the stairs leading to the therapist’s office above her own, sounding a little lighter than before.

  Chapter 9

  Viola’s grandma stood in the doorway of Viola’s room. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” She stared at her forest green silk dress in the mirror, turning left and then right to see her profile from each side. The square neckline tapered down to a tailored waist, then flowed into a skirt that skimmed her knees.

  She’d seen the dress in one of the boutiques on Main Street last week when she’d been walking to her car and had fallen in love with it the moment she’d put it on. She’d paired it with pink platforms with criss-cross straps that formed a heart, and had pulled her unruly hair into a high bun, curling some of the strands that refused to cooperate.

  All in all, she was happy with how she looked.

  “Ready?” Viola turned from her mirror to look at her grandma, who was wearing a trench coat, a fedora, and some chunky Doc Marten boots that Viola had owned since high school. She was dressed as Dane Lowbridge’s character, Detective Mason Horwitz, for the event tonight.

  “I’ve been ready for years,” her grandma said, with her signature, saucy grin. Viola didn’t remember her mother at all, but from pictures, she knew that she and her mom had both inherited that same grin from Grandma—the grin that said she was ready for whatever life threw at her.

  The two of them left the house and climbed into Viola’s car.

  “How long are we going to leave the Halloween decorations up this year?” Viola asked, as she backed out of the garage. The huge spider, nearly as big as their house, was stationed in their front yard, the eight legs rising up onto the house, over the driveway like a bridge, and nearly into the street. It was a tourist favorite on the trolley tours, and Grandma liked to be unpredictable about when she took it down.

  “Fern had her husband make her a massive cartoon turkey. Multi-colored tail feathers and all.”

  “Okaaay,” Viola said slowly.

  “I’ve been working on a pilgrim’s hat in the garage. For the spider,” she added, in case Viola hadn’t caught that. “An entire pilgrim outfit, actually.”

  Viola laughed. “Does that mean were going to keep it up a little longer?” That thing was a total pain to put up, take down, and store, so she wasn’t going to complain about that.

  “Oh, I have plans for that spider this year.” Grandma’s saucy grin was back.

  Viola was going to drop her grandma off at the park, then swing by Bobby’s house and pick him up for the Winter Festival Gala.

  “And Fern’s husband is going to pick you up after and bring you home tonight?” she confirmed.

  “Yes, Mom,” her grandma teased. “I’ll let you know if he flakes on us.” Something that had happened more than once, not because he wasn’t a great man, but because he had a tendency to fall into a deep, almost unwakable sleep, if it got too late.

  Viola’s phone rang loudly over her car’s blue-tooth speaker. Bobby’s name flashed on the screen. She answered it. “Hey, Bobby. I’m running a few minutes behind, but I should be there in about five.”

  “Well, that’s the thing,” he started out, and Viola’s stomach dropped. “You know Kendra, right?”

  “Your ex, who I went to school with since Kindergarten? Yes, I know her.” She struggled to keep her voice light.

  “We’re getting back together. Which means I’ve got to respectfully bow out tonight. It doesn’t look good to go on a date with another woman when you’re dating your ex-wife, know what I mean?”

  Viola wanted to be happy for them—as happy as she could be that such a dysfunctional relationship was getting a second round—but this was leaving her in a lurch.

  “Bobby, I don’t have time to find someone else.”

  “I know, I get it. I hate to do this. You’re a great girl, Viola, but I’m in love with Kendra.”

  “He thinks he’s breaking up with you,” Grandma whispered with almost no sound, her eyes narrowed.

  “Seriously,” Viola mouthed back. Why had she asked Bobby again? Oh, yeah. Because everyone else was busy or already in a relationship.

  “It’s fine, Bobby. I’ll figure it out.”

  “I know you will,” he said, his southern accent even deeper, making her wonder if Kendra had walked into the room. “Bye.”

  Viola ended the call. “I swear, if he posts about this on Facebook, I’m deleting my account.” She tried to laugh but felt the tears welling in her eyes. It wasn’t like she’d wanted to go out with Bobby, but dang it, could a guy not bail on her, just one time in her life, when she needed him?

  “I’m going with you to the gala,” her grandma declared.

  “No.”

  “You can’t change my mind. I’ve already texted Fern.”

  “No you haven’t. Your phone is still in your purse.”

  “Fine, I haven’t,” her grandma admitted. “But I will on the way. You can’t go to this dinner alone.”

  “Sure I can.”

  “But you don’t want to.”

  Viola hesitated before answering. She didn’t want to go alone, but there was no way she was going to take Dane Lowbridge from her grandma.

  “I have a back-up person,” she said instead.

  “Who?” Her grandma’s eyes narrowed.

  “Liam Nichols.” She winced as soon as she said it. She’d promised to check on Liam while Callie was gone. They’d left two days ago, and she hadn’t done much in the way of “checking-in” on him.

  “The one from Hawaii? The one who bought the theater for you? The one with all the money? That Liam Nichols.”

  “He didn’t buy the theater for me.” She was really regretting telling her grandma everything now.

  “Okay,” her grandma said. “Call him, then.”

  “Right now?”

  Her grandma leveled a look at her, the one that called her out for being an idiot. “Fine.”

  She pulled his number up on her phone, surprised when he answered before the first ring even finished.

  “Viola,” he said. “How are you?”

  “Good, good,” she replied. “Found your phone, sounds like?” She winced at bringing it up, and was relieved when he laughed.

  “I did. It was just an arm’s reach into one of the ducts.”

  “Good, good,” she repeated. Her grandma rolled her arm in a get-on-with-it motion.

  “I don’t know if you have plans tonight, and this is really
last minute, so I totally understand if you can’t come …”

  “I’m free,” he said. That deep, confident voice never failed to wrap her up like a warm blanket. “What do you need?”

  “Oh, just a plus one for this little dinner-thing tonight at town hall. It starts in about thirty minutes, though,” she warned him, almost like she was trying to convince him not to go.

  “I haven’t had dinner yet. That sounds fun. Is it formal, casual?”

  “Formal, but I’m sure whatever you have is fine.”

  “Send me a text of the address, and I’ll get dressed and meet you over there. Does that work?”

  A weird blend of emotions swirled through her: anticipation, relief, nerves.

  “Sure. Thanks, Liam.”

  “Anytime. See you soon.”

  She hung up and turned to her grandma. “There. Happy?”

  Her grandma merely lifted her eyebrows. “Girl, you’ve got it so bad.”

  She felt her cheeks turn pink. “Like you’re one to talk. Go give Dane a kiss for me.”

  “I’ll give him a kiss for myself, thank you very much.” She laughed and opened the car door, then turned and took Viola’s hand in her own, her eyes glistening. “I am so proud of you.”

  “For calling Liam?” she asked, somewhat petulantly.

  “Yes, but more, for the accomplishment of getting this award. You are something else, girl. Something spectacular. The best in this family, that’s for sure.”

  “I learned it all from you. Love you.”

  “Love you too.” Her grandma blinked a few times, then checked her reflection in the mirror, smoothing out any mascara that may have gotten wet. “Well that’s enough of that. Tootles.”

  She hopped out of the car, closing it on Viola’s incredulous, “Tootles? Really?”

  Viola laughed and headed toward city hall, nerves crashing through her like waves the closer she got.

  Chapter 10

  Liam straightened the cuffs of his suit coat before walking into town hall. Due to his GPS going off-kilter during the drive and attempting to send him down a dead-end alleyway, he’d barely managed to find the address Viola had sent him. The dinner had already begun, and everyone was in their seats, the clink of forks and knives falling against plates over the steady hum of conversation.