Page 9 of Her Brother's Billionaire Best Friend
“Tell me you’ve got some good news,” I said to Karen, my HR rep. She’d been trying to find me someone who could fill in for the past two weeks. Last summer, I’d had a dedicated PA who’d always been with me. But now Scarlet was on maternity leave. Kids, I thought to myself. Why is it always kids?
“Some,” said Karen. I could hear her tapping away on her keyboard as she spoke to me. “I think I’ve got your next PA.”
“Well,” I said, “send her up.”
“Don’t you want to know anything about her first? She’s local, you know. Or at least, recently local. As a matter of fact, she just moved to Caluga for work.”
“Who moves to Caluga Falls?” I muttered, but I didn’t have time to argue. “Send her up here. Straight away.”
“Okay,” said Karen. “I’ll call her and send her up this afternoon. Her application looked good on the portal.”
“Excellent,” I said. “Thanks, Karen. I’ve got about a million other things to do but I’ll call you later.”
“Let me know how it goes!” she said, and then hung up. I turned to the mountain of files in front of me.
“Let’s do this,” I said, and rolled up my sleeves.
It had proved almost impossible to find a PA out here. I’d known it wouldn’t necessarily be the most practical thing, but after everything I’d invested in this house, I was keen that the enormous, comfortable office on the second floor of the house could be put to good use. I was getting desperate now, and not even the team of recruiters and head-hunters I’d had at my disposal could persuade anyone halfway competent to move out to the Falls for a few months to help me run my business. After all, the place was pretty isolated: one road out of town, and a private airstrip were all that remained now that the railway line had closed.
It wasn’t that I really needed help with my business. I’d been working fine on my own for the last few years, and even without Scarlet, things had been easy in Seattle. But now other concerns were occupying me. What to do with the Parkland, for instance. And besides, I preferred to keep a few layers of separation between me and the rest of the world these days. I was well aware that before long, someone would start to wonder who Lucien Barnes was and why he bought a mansion here.
When the doorbell rang that afternoon, I didn’t think twice. I jogged down the stairs, and caught myself in the mirror. No matter how many times I tried, I couldn’t get used to the way I was now. The last time I’d lived in Caluga Falls, I was a skinny, wiry boy of twenty-one, with long hair and a winning smile. The enormous, muscular man in front of me, with short hair and a dark beard streaked with red—well, he was something else. I stopped and studied the long scar trailing down from my jaw.
When I got to the doorbell, I didn’t waste time with small talk. “Come up,” I growled into the microphone, and opened the gate. I retreated to the living room and watched through the long, floor-to-ceiling glass window as the enormous iron gates swung open on an automatic lock.
And then, I saw her.
“No!” I gasped.
I hadn’t thought about it. Actually, that was a lie. Of course I’d thought about it. But in the days that had passed since I saw the girl standing out there in the darkness, I’d convinced myself that I was making it up. That it couldn’t possibly be her.
But here she was—in the daylight, plain as could be.
And I thought of a reason—any reason—not to let her in. Not to open the door. I stayed there, almost pressed to the glass, watching her stride up through the garden path in her smart skirt-suit. She paused for a moment to admire the garden, breathing in my roses, which were beginning to fade and wither on the vine around the trellises.
Then, the doorbell rang, and I knew I faced an impossible choice.
If I opened it, I felt sure she’d recognize me. And part of me wanted her to. If Laura recognized me then she’d run away, surely. And wasn’t that exactly what I wanted? To come and forget about her and move on with my new life as Lucien Barnes?
But another part of me thought something entirely different. That the heartless woman who’d run away from me when I needed her most, would have forgotten me a long time ago.
Besides, it wasn’t me. I wasn’t Conor anymore. I was Lucien.
And Lucien Barnes wasn’t the type of man to keep anyone waiting on his doorstep.
As I trod down the hall, there was a feeling of foreboding. In the frosted glass in the door pane, I could see her, slim shoulders, and black hair pulled back into a professional ponytail.
I stopped by the door for a moment. And then, out of a strange curiosity that drove my fears away, I opened it.
“At least you let me in this time,” said Laura.
I took her in—the full force of her. She was as tall as I remembered—though nowhere near as tall as me. She looked firmer, her shoulders thrown back, and her face had grown wiser with the years. I was captivated by her beauty. So many times over the years I’d thought of her and wondered what she was doing. Where she was, who she was now. If she’d also changed her name. If she was married. If she was single. And then, I took the meaning of her words.
“Lucien Barnes,” I said, extending a hand.
“Laura Solomon,” she said, smiling as she extended hers. Softly, her skin touched mine, and I felt my long fingers touch her wrist. I pulled my hand away.
“Sorry about my little joke,” she chuckled. “It’s just—you might remember me?”