Renee Andrews - Small-Town Billionaire

“Make a name for yourself?” he asked.

Actually, she’d been running away from the name she’d made for herself. Making a new name for herself would be more like it. “Something like that,” she said. Thankfully, she saw Dana walking toward the barn with a travel mug in each hand.

“I know what that’s like,” he said, “wanting to make a name for yourself.”

Maribeth started to ask him what he meant, but then Dana called out, “Hey, Maribeth, I didn’t know you’d be here already. I got a cup of coffee for me and Ryan. Want me to get you one, too?”

“I had a cup before I left the store, but thanks,” Maribeth answered.

“You’ve already been to work this morning?” Ryan asked.

“I live there. That was one of the things so appealing about the place on the square—each store has an apartment on the second floor.” She hadn’t planned on saying more than a couple of words to the guy as she made her way to the barn, but oddly enough, she was finding him easy to talk to.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Dana asked as she reached them. “That Maribeth can simply walk downstairs to be at work?”

“Yes,” he said, “it is.”

Maybe this was God’s way of showing her that she didn’t have to see guys like Ryan Brooks as completely off-limits. He didn’t have to be a temptation that she couldn’t withstand. Maybe they could be friends and she could even help him with his relationship with God somehow. Then she could go her merry way without any form of discomfort from being around someone who so blatantly reminded her of her past mistakes.

“Wow, did y’all notice that sky?” Dana asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“We were just talking about that,” Ryan said. “And about that old saying that red skies in the morning mean bad weather is coming.”

“Oh, that’s right.” She held up the other mug. “Want your coffee now, or you want to wait until we’re in the car?”

“I’ll wait,” he said.

Dana nodded, still taking in that sky, which seemed to have grown even redder in the time since Maribeth and Ryan had started talking. “I’d forgotten about that red-skies-at-morning thing,” Dana said.

“Apparently it comes from the Bible,” Ryan said, and then he laughed when Dana sputtered on her coffee. “I only know because she just told me.” He tilted his head toward Maribeth.

“Well,” Dana said, “you have my permission to share any Biblical knowledge you want with my brother. I’ve been trying to introduce him to Jesus for a couple of years now, but he hasn’t been interested.”

“I asked him to the camp’s Bible study this afternoon,” Maribeth said, “but he’s busy.”

“I have conference calls,” he repeated, “and I wouldn’t have a thing to contribute to a Bible study.” When Dana started to speak, he shook his head. “Don’t, sis. We’ve gone through this before. That’s your life, not mine.”

Maribeth suddenly felt sorry for her friend. And she also felt sorry for her own family, when they’d tried to bring Maribeth back to the straight and narrow road and she’d barreled on her own way. Later, she’d regretted that. And she wondered if Ryan Brooks would regret it later, too. “You should at least give the Bible study a try,” she said.

He grabbed his crutches and put one beneath each arm. “Like I said, I wouldn’t know anything about it, and I’m not going to attempt to participate in something I know nothing about. But I do know a thing or two about business, and I’d like to talk to you sometime about yours. Consigning Women, the business—the concept—has a lot of potential, and you’ve only scratched the surface. I could help you make that name for yourself.”

And just like that, Maribeth saw through the nice-guy image to the real man beneath the friendly facade. He’d seen her business and wanted it for himself. Maybe not the whole thing, but he had hopes of using her idea for his own benefit. She could see it in his eyes: another rich boy used to getting any and everything he ever wanted. He was being nice because he wanted something.

“I don’t think so,” she said, and didn’t hide the irritation in her tone. Then she turned away, told Dana to have a good day and headed into the barn.

* * *

Ryan’s coffee sloshed in the travel mug when Dana stomped on the brakes before they reached the main road.

“Hey, easy there,” he said, taking a sip to keep more from spilling over the top.

“I don’t get it,” she said, apparently forgetting that they were already running late to his rehab appointment. “Maribeth told you last night that she isn’t interested in her business growing bigger, but you just won’t let up, will you?” She placed her mug in the cup holder and put the car in Park, obviously not going anywhere until Ryan responded.

“Why wouldn’t anyone want to go bigger?” he asked.

“Everyone isn’t you, Ryan,” she said, then visibly swallowed. “Everyone doesn’t want to be Dad.” When he didn’t say anything, she continued, “That’s it, isn’t it? You think you’ve got to spend your life trying to make everything a little bit better, and a whole lot bigger, the same way he did. Well, I’ll tell you something. That didn’t make him happy, because things couldn’t satisfy him. He realized that in the end.”

Ryan had heard this speech way too many times in the two years since Lawrence Brooks had died, and he didn’t want to hear it again, particularly since it wasn’t true. “I’m not trying to be Dad. That’s the whole point of me wanting to help grow Maribeth’s business. She said she came here to make a name for herself, and I understand that, because that’s what I want to do. I’m drowning in Dad’s shadow. Everything I’ve done at that company has been done exactly—exactly—the way Dad did it. Nothing original. Nothing new. I’ve followed his strategies, utilized his resources and basically continued living in his world. My investments, each and every resort property, were the ones he already had in his sights when he died. Do you realize that the board hasn’t approved anything that he hadn’t already set into play?”

“Nothing you’ve recommended to the board has been approved?”

“That’s just it. I haven’t had a chance to recommend anything, because Dad had the next decade lined up.”

“How?”

“Not exact properties and investments, but he set the plan in motion, the types of scenarios that were must-have purchases for the company, and that’s what the board is looking for. They aren’t interested in messing with a system that works.”

“But that leaves you out of the equation,” she said.

“The one time they’ve deviated from Dad’s plan was when they approved the funding for new entrepreneurs, and that was due to you going to bat for John’s dude ranch.”

“But you want to make your mark in the company as well, and you saw Maribeth’s idea as a way to make that happen,” she said, realization dawning on her face.

“Pretty much. Maribeth’s idea is ingenious. She’s tapped into something original, inventive and clever, and I think—no, I know—that I can help her make it huge. I’d be investing in something that I found, something that I believe in. Something Brooks International has never done before.”

“But it’s Maribeth’s concept,” she said. “And she likes it the way it is—a small store in the Claremont town square. She doesn’t want to make it bigger.”

“She said she wanted to make a name for herself,” Ryan repeated.

“And she has, here, in Claremont.” Dana ran her hand through her hair then turned to face him. “Listen, I know you think convincing her to hand over Consigning Women so that you can turn it into some worldwide conglomeration is a good idea and that deep down, you actually believe you’d be helping her.”