The Billionaire's Masquerade (The Friendship Series) (18 page)

He pulled the Jeep into a strange driveway, one she’d never seen before and as the gravel road twisted and turned, they suddenly came upon the beautiful house she’d visited the first day. Her mouth dropped open as she stared at the lovely house, irritated by how easy it was to access the house. “You couldn’t have told me about this driveway the last time?” she demanded, glaring at him in the dim light of the setting sun.

He chuckled and jumped out of the Jeep. “If I had, I never would have seen you in those red shoes,” he came right back.

Rachel knew he had a point, but those shoes had been trashed when she’d gotten back to Washington after that weekend. Walking two miles in three inch heels was not good for either the feet or shoes. “You’re just digging yourself in deeper,” she grumbled.

She got out of the car, but didn’t go inside. He laughed softly at her stubbornness. “Rachel, I know you want to see the inside of this house,” he called out to her as she marched down the other side of the Jeep, finding the gravel drive that would lead back to the cottage.

She just continued walking, ignoring him completely. There was no way she was going into that house with him, she told herself. She’d loved their cottage, had spent some great moments in it and she wasn’t going to sleep with him tonight.

“Rachel, there’s no heat in the cottage,” he told her, almost laughing at how stubborn she was being. But he understood her point. She was mad. She probably perceived this as more subterfuge and she might even think he was trying to control her. That last point might be accurate, but he still wasn’t going to let her sleep in the cottage. He’d had her under his roof for the past several weeks. He’d grown used to knowing she was close by.

Of course, if she were in his bed, that would be even better. He smiled in anticipation. He also knew that Molly had made her famous chili and corn bread for dinner. He’d texted her last night letting her know that he was bringing Rachel back and this was Molly’s attempt to help him win her over. Her chili really was that good.

“Will you please come inside and have some dinner? I know Molly made something special for our return.”

Rachel bristled with that statement. “You mean she made something special for your return. It had nothing to do with me.”

He was already shaking his head by the time she was halfway through with that comment. “Not true. Molly really likes you. In fact, at the risk of making things worse, she’s playing cupid tonight.”

That really caused her to be concerned. “What? Some sort of candlelight dinner? That’s not going to work on me. I’m still really hurt and angry by what you did.”

He smothered a chuckle at the idea of Molly making a candlelight meal. “No candles, no romantic music. She made chili,” he stated.

Rachel blinked and stopped, turning back to look up at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Chili?”

Emerson laughed out loud at her expression, walking to stand in front of her again, unable to contain his amusement. He couldn’t help it, she looked too cute. “Yes, chili. It’s Molly’s famous chili and it takes her all day to make. It’s pretty extraordinary and has won several awards although I suspect she never really makes it the same way every time. I’ve watched her make it. She just throws things in, tastes a bit, then throws something else in.”

Rachel loved the image of the gruff Molly trying to play cupid by making a cold weather, spicy meal. “I really don’t want to have dinner with you.”

He sighed and gently took hold of her hands. “Rachel, we’ve been eating almost every meal together for the past month. I don’t think I’ll be able to eat anything if you’re not sitting across from me arguing about something.”

“That’s your problem,” she declared, wanting to pull back, but her feet weren’t obeying her commands to run. “You kept finding problems with all of the research I’d done.”

“That was all part of my training. I promise, I didn’t treat you any differently than I did my other interns. All of whom you’ve met, by the way.”

“I have?” she asked, stumped by that statement. “Why haven’t they gone off and started their own companies?”

There was silence for a long moment while he looked down into her green eyes. “Is that what you were planning to do?” he asked carefully.

She couldn’t lie to him. There had been too many misunderstandings between them. “Yes. That was my original goal. I wanted complete control of my fate. The idea of listening to someone else tell me what to do all the time wasn’t in my long term plans.”

He released one of her hands, but retained the other one and tucked it on his arm, walking forward towards the house. “So if I were to help you start your own business now, with the information that you currently have, what kind of business would that be?”

Okay, that question came out of left field. She was only vaguely aware of walking into the brightly lit house with all of the windows looking out onto the ocean. The stars were starting to come out and twinkle in the distance and a lighthouse flashed its light rhythmically.

“I don’t know.”

He’d gotten her up the stone stairway to the front door, pulling her inside. “Why not? Isn’t there something you’ve always wanted to do?”

The thought of refinishing antiques popped into her mind, a dream she’d always had since she’d been a child. But it was a risky business, not one she was willing to put her future into. “I…”

He halted just inside the door and turned to face her. “Stop right there, Rachel. What were you going to say before you stopped? There was something on your mind but you rejected the idea.”

She shook her head and straightened, not willing to let him know about her silly dream. Refinishing furniture was a ridiculous pipe dream! “Nothing. I haven’t had a chance to think about what I’d like to do in so long. Especially since I’ve been trying to keep up with you.”

He sighed and took back her hand, leading her into the kitchen where he found two bowls sitting beside a crockpot of chili. “You’re not being honest with me, Rachel. But that’s okay. You don’t trust me but I can wait. Eventually, you’ll tell me what I want to know.”

She accepted the glass of red wine that he handed to her, taking a sip so she could hide her face behind the large globe. He was right. This was all a matter of trust. And she simply didn’t trust him.

“What’s in the chili?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

He ladled a heaping portion into one of the bowls and handed it to her. “I have no idea. Molly won’t let me see everything she adds. She thinks I’m going to steal her recipe.”

Rachel laughed but it was more at the idea of Emerson actually cooking. “I can’t imagine you standing at the counter chopping things up for a meal.”

“I can cook,” he said, pretending to be offended. “I boil a mean pot of water.”

She laughed again but sat down next to him on the big, leather sofa, slipping her tennis shoes off and curling her feet underneath her.

As soon as the laughter died away, an awkward silence descended between the two of them.

“You haven’t tried your chili,” he prompted.

Rachel stirred the rich stew, feeling slightly ill and ill at ease. “Weeks ago,” she started off, wanting to figure out what was swarming around in her head, needing to tell him what she’d been thinking today. Well, and for the past several weeks, “before all this…,” she wasn’t sure how to keep going.

“Before I took you to New York City and gave you the thing you thought you always wanted?” he prompted, taking a bite of the spicy chili.

She rested the bowl on her legs. “Well, yes.” Thinking back, she realized that she’d been pretty harsh about the whole situation. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I was scared.”

He stopped eating and looked at her. Waiting for her to continue but when she sat beside him, fighting some internal battle, he reached out and touched her cheek. “What were you afraid of Rachel?” he asked gently.

She took a deep breath, realizing how nervous just her breath sounded. “You.” She didn’t sugar coat it this time. “You terrified me.”

“Why?”

“Because you made me feel things I didn’t want to feel. You made me want something that I didn’t think was right.”

Rachel wanted to continue, but she felt so miserable. And confused. And she’d been confused for so long, she was sick of it. She was tired of everything lately.

She looked up, prepared to tell him all of it. She wasn’t sure she trusted him, but he deserved to hear the truth. “Here’s the thing,” she started off, looking directly at him. “I didn’t like my old job. I kept thinking it wasn’t enough. I thought that, if I could only make it to the Wall Street gang, I’d love it. I’d feel like I’d finally made it.”

“And when you were there?” he asked her tenderly.

She looked down, then stiffened her spine and shook her hair off her shoulders. “I hated it. I kept waiting for that thrill of success to arrive, to get some feeling of accomplishment. To know that this was genuinely where I was supposed to be.”

“But it never came, did it?”

She sighed and shook her head. “Never. All I ever felt was exhaustion.”

“I know.”

She laughed harshly. “You don’t know!” she exclaimed. “You fit in that world. You knew exactly how to play the games. It’s not an effort to you, is it? Living in that world is instinctive.”

He shrugged his shoulder, unwilling to lie about this when she was being so honest to him. “Yes. I know how to play the game, how to manipulate the people around me so my ventures are profitable.”

Rachel felt defeated. “I wasn’t ever able to be successful,” she replied. “It wasn’t ever instinctive to me.”

He took both their bowls of chili and put them on the coffee table in front of the sofa then turned so she was looking directly at him once again. “Rachel, I want you to listen to me and really hear me this time. Will you do that?”

She was nervous again. He wasn’t just close, he was surrounding her. And it was overwhelming. She’d wanted him back for so long and this was Jack! This was the man she loved. The Emerson side was still there but she could see how the two sides meshed together and….the Emerson Jackson man was…thrilling! She nodded her head carefully.

“Good! Now here’s the problem,” he started off. “You think you haven’t succeeded, but you need to examine your idea of what success is. You think it’s being the alpha in a pack of rabid dogs.” He ignored Rachel’s snort of laughter and continued. “But that’s not success. I accept that your need for success is directly tied to your need for financial security, but perhaps you could also be successful if you were happy in the job. If you were happy doing what you want to do. The one thing you missed when examining all of the companies I had you research was the human factor. You kept looking at the statistics and never looked at the people within the companies.”

It suddenly struck her, what he’d been asking her all the time. “You kept asking me to talk to the leadership of the companies,” she said with growing wonder.

“Exactly. And I wanted you to see the person behind the company. Statistics don’t run businesses, Rachel. People work in the factories producing the product, human beings set the quotas, run the machines, make the decisions.” He paused to let that sink in. “If the company isn’t a good place to work, if management isn’t good at their jobs, if they don’t treat the people right and the people believe in what they’re producing, the company isn’t going to be successful.”

She heard his words and, as he explained his point of view, the tension slowly left her body. “So what you’re saying is that I should find something I love doing and I’ll eventually be successful.”

He gripped her arms, shaking her slightly. “No, Rachel. I want you to re-examine your definition of successful. I want you to consider just being happy as the goal.”

She suddenly realized how happy she’d been in that tiny cottage with him, how secure she’d felt just lying in his arms, waking up to his kisses on her shoulder or his rough beard against her cheek. She looked into his dark eyes and it felt like something exploded inside of her. “I felt happy with you,” she whispered, almost afraid to say the words.

Emerson couldn’t believe what she’d just said. He’d thought it would take several more days of arguing with her before she finally admitted that. He was so stunned, he didn’t react for several heartbeats. When her declaration finally hit him, he grabbed her into his arms and lifted her up, his hands diving into her hair so he could kiss her. Really kiss her!

Rachel clung to his large frame, wanting to show him how much she loved him, how astonished she was that she felt so free, so liberated! “I love you,” she finally said when he finally lifted his head. She’d said it with her eyes closed, not really intending to say that, but the words just slipped out accidentally. When she realized what she’d said, her eyes popped open and she was looking directly into his own, her heart racing as she waited for his reaction.

“Finally!” he replied. He buried his face in her hair, kissing her neck and running his hands up and down her back. “Rachel, I’ve been waiting so long to hear you say that,” he told her.

Leaning back, he dug into his pocket. “I love you too,” he told her. “I know we have a lot of things to work out, one of them being what you want to do with the rest of your life, but while you wonder and consider the details, would you marry me? Would you do me the honor of being by your side, helping you, loving you and living with you for the rest of our lives?” He took her hand while he said those lovely words and slipped a beautiful diamond ring onto her finger. It wasn’t the biggest or the flashiest diamond ring she’d ever seen, but it was gorgeous!

She stared at the ring, then at Emerson, not sure what to think. “You want to marry me? With all my crazy, messed up baggage?”

He laughed and pulled her closer. “Definitely!” he groaned.

She looked down at the ring, her heart melting not because of the diamond, but because of his sincerity. “Why?”

He laughed and nuzzled her neck again. “Because you make me happy. Despite your assertion that all you want in life is power and money, you find joy in the simplest things and it thrills me when I wake up in the morning and find you still in my arms.”