Jennifer Greene - The Billionaire’s Handler

A small generator provided the possibility of electricity, but it was hard to imagine a need for TV or fancy music. The entertainment was all free. The view from the trees was more than magnificent. Stinging-fresh air, crusty hilltops and valleys, endless birds and wildlife below. Chocolate earth. Sharp greens. Diamonds in the sneaky curl of a creek below.

“I love you, Maguire,” Carolina crowed.

His heart stopped for a second, but of course recovered. “Yeah, that’s what all the girls say.”

“You went above and beyond to find this place.”

“I like the hero status, but I have to admit…I’m crazy about the place myself. You hungry? We just have picnic-type food. A lot of it, but nothing fancy.”

They’d both skipped breakfast, though, and Carolina fell on the feast as ravenously as he did. She found a small rug to use as a tablecloth, right next to the windows so they could watch the wildlife while they lunched. The fare was simple, cinnamon bread for sandwiches, heaped with lettuce and cheese and shaved ham, almost too big to fit her mouth around. Pickles. Potato chips. Apple wedges. Plain old iced tea. Almond cookies.

No lobster here. No gilded spires or castle walls. He hoped she’d feel more down to earth in a more down-to-earth environment.

Maybe he’d been hoping it would work for him, too. For Pete’s sake, she was wearing thick socks and baggy jeans and had cookie crumbs on her sweatshirt. How come he couldn’t take his eyes off her? Her hair looked brushed by a cyclone, and she kept saying, “Look! Look!” when a woodpecker came to stare at them from the door sill…or when a squirrel checked them out from upside down on a tree limb.

A red-tailed hawk, four trees over, surveyed the vista below.

“If he goes swooping down on some prey, I’m not going to be happy,” Carolina said darkly.

“Let me see.”

“No. You’ve been hogging the binoculars since we got here. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. A mama deer, Maguire. With two half-grown fawns. Just lollygagging.”

He grabbed the binocs, since she was being so stingy-and then she had to laugh. At him.

“I hate to tell you this,” she teased, “but I’m not sure whether we’re living my fantasy or yours.”

“All right. I admit it. I just never thought of a tree house before, much less considered building one or spending time in one. It’s terrific.”

“Well, yeah. But you’re the one who grew up in the lap of luxury. How come you never did this, if it was something fun for you? You made me make out that list. But have you ever done it? Made a list of things you really want to do?”

There now. She broke the spell. He forgot how annoying she could be-poking into corners he never poked into. He’d been content with his life before he met her. And she kept diverting him from the crisis problem-which was teaching her to be tough.

“We have more serious things we should talk over,” he said abruptly. “We’ve talked about some general ideas, general plans and strategies you can try. But we’ve only skirted the really touchy stuff. For instance, you have a sister.”

For one long instant, she looked at him. There was something in her eyes-besides sunbeams-but she seemed to decide to go along with the conversational tack he’d started. “Actually, I have a brother and a sister,” she said.

“But it’s the sister who leaned really hard on you, wasn’t it? She started by asking you for a college education for her kids-”

“I wanted to do that!”

“Okay. I get that. But I’m not interested in what she asked you for. I want to hear, from you, what else you might want to do for your sister and your sister’s family.”

She started scooping up the debris from their lunch, stashing paper and napkins in a makeshift box. “I’d like her to have a nest egg. Just in case something traumatic happens. She’s never said anything, but I know she doesn’t have a great marriage. I think my brother-in-law’s a cheater. Anyway. I was thinking about setting up a trust for her and her two kids. Not to just give them money outright. But so she’d know that she always had a door open, a way out, a kitty in the closet. I’d tell her about it. Tell her how I’m doing it, so she knows she’s got this nest egg…but that it’s not going to the Home Shopping Channel or to pay for something that would just disappear.”

“She’s not going to like that.”

“I figure she won’t either. She’ll think I’m patronizing her. Or something like that.” Carolina sighed. “But you asked what I wanted to do for her. And that’s the deal.”

“Hey.”

“Hey what?”

“You’re getting damn smart, Carolina.”

“Of course I am. I’ve had a fabulous teacher. Holy kamoly. Maguire! There’s another hawk! Wait, wait. I think it’s an eagle…”

Out of nowhere came a sudden civilized sound. His cell phone.

He froze, worried that he’d forgotten to tell Carolina that he’d needed to keep his cell on…worried that the sound of it would produce a panic response in her the way it had before.

Not this time. She heard it, looked at him, and he could almost see her shoulder muscles ease. It was just a phone. Not a threat. Phone calls weren’t likely to threaten her ever again.

“I need to take this-” he started to say, but she just shook her head.

“Of course you do. No problem.” And she whipped away the binoculars and turned back to the window, while he dug in his pocket for the cell.

It was his brother Jay, and he’d known Jay would call quickly after the last visit with Shannon. Maguire had fixed her problem-not just money, but removing her from the role of go-between. Once Jay discovered he would have to deal with someone who wasn’t a vulnerable woman-namely himself-his brother was guaranteed to pursue communication. Jay had his penitent voice on, his excuses ready to spill.

“I was just in a little spot of trouble,” Jay started in. “It was just cash flow.”

“You know how many times you tried to sell me this story?” Maguire moved as far away from Carolina as he could, kept his voice low.

“This time is different,” his brother insisted.

“How?”

“I found a rehab place.”

“And you’ve played that card before, too, Jay. You never meant it.”

“This time I do. I’m going to end up with nothing and no one if I don’t find a way to straighten up my act. This time I realize that.”

“You’ve used those same words before. What I don’t get is why you’d steal from your own brother. You don’t even see Tommy. Don’t give a damn how he’s doing. Yet you’ll do an end run with Shannon when you have more money than you could possibly want-”

“It was just a cash-flow thing. It won’t ever happen again, I swear.”

Maguire quit talking. He closed his eyes. Tried to listen. The call lasted several more minutes, and then Maguire clicked it off, then shut down the phone altogether. He faced the north glass wall without seeing anything, just standing there.

Behind him, he heard the door to the bathroom open. Then running water for a moment. Then silence again. His voice had been quiet; he knew it had been, and Carolina had obviously picked up that it was a private matter, steered out of the way. Maybe she hadn’t heard. If she had, maybe his side of the conversation wouldn’t make sense to her. No matter, if she just gave him a few more moments to get his head back on straight, he’d handle it fine.

But less than a millimoment passed before he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He didn’t want her sympathy or empathy. Not when he felt lower than dirt.

When he couldn’t shake off her hand, she scooched around in front of him, leaning against the glass wall, taking the place of his view.