Forgetting the Billionaire (A Clean Billionaire Romance Book 1) Page 2

  “Do you need anything else?” The cold voice of the other waitress broke his thoughts.

  “I’m okay.” He couldn’t help but notice that she was glaring at him. “You okay?”

  She ripped a piece of paper from her pad and let it fall to the table. “You got my best friend fired. You tell me.”

  He felt bad. It really hadn’t been his intention. It was this trip. It’d turned him into a monster. After he received the call that his grandma had only weeks to live, he got on his plane and flew straight here. Now, he was trying to bring himself to go see her, but he was struggling more than he’d thought. He even instructed his pilot, Pedro, to hang out at the airport just in case he needed a quick getaway.

  “Really. I am sorry. Could you let her know if you see her?”

  The waitress narrowed her eyes as she grabbed the twenty he’d laid down and nodded. After she stalked off, he stood and walked over to the door. Thankfully, his pants had dried somewhat. It no longer looked as if he’d peed himself. Stepping outside, he made his way to his rental car.

  It was a VW bug— the only car they had left at the rental place. The worst part was that it was pink. He felt ridiculous driving around in it. But buying a brand-new car just to be here for a few days seemed a bit ridiculous, so he gritted his teeth and took it.

  He slipped inside and started the engine. And sat there with his hands gripping the steering wheel. He watched as the rain hit the windshield and rolled down. It had been less than twenty-four hours since he got the call that brought him here.

  Why his grandma had insisted on retiring on this tiny island was beyond him. What was so great about Sitka? His gaze pushed past the rain and up to the trees that reached toward the sky. She’d lived the rest of her life so far away from family— far away from him. And now? He didn’t want to even think the words, but they pounded in his skull anyways. She was going to die here.

  His stomach twisted.

  A piercing sound filled the air. He jumped and glanced around. Vibration rattled his chest. He patted his pocket. It was his phone. Reaching inside his suit coat, he hit the talk button and brought it to his ear. Probably Victoria calling again.

  “Hello?”

  “Mitchell?” The familiar uptight voice caused him to grit his teeth.

  “Mother?”

  “Thank goodness I caught you. I’ve been trying to call you all day. I’m downstairs and coming up.”

  He twisted the grasp he had on the steering wheel. “I’m not home right now.”

  “What?” she scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. Where else would you be?”

  Mitchell swallowed and braced himself. She was not going to like what he was about to tell her. “I’m in Sitka.”

  Silence.

  “Alaska,” he continued.

  “I know where Sitka is. Why are you there?”

  “Don’t you mean, why am I seeing her?”

  She cleared her throat. “This family’s relationship with her was over a long time ago, Mitchell Kingsley. Why have you gone against my wishes?”

  “Mother, I’m not part of this feud. My relationship isn’t over. The fact that you kept her location a secret from me all this time is horrible.”

  More silence.

  “She’s dying, Mom.” A lump formed in his throat. Since he was a baby, his grandma Rose had raised him. While his parents were off growing their business, she was the one who taught him to tie his shoes and play baseball. She always insisted on raising him humble despite his family’s wealth. But after the incident, his parents severed all ties.

  “I know.” His mom’s voice had turned to ice.

  He stared at the drizzling rain. Rage filled his chest. His mother knew Rose was sick and she wasn’t even going to come? Why was he here and still sitting in the parking lot? He threw the car in reverse and pulled onto the road.

  “I need to go, Mom.” He slammed the end call button and threw his phone onto the passenger seat. After a few left turns, he admitted he was lost, so grabbed his phone and punched in the location of Dottie’s Retirement Home.

  Ten minutes later he pulled into the back lot of a small red house. It had white painted shutters with window boxes that exploded with flowers. A porch wrapped all the way around with a few rockers scattered throughout.

  He took a deep breath and opened the car door. Leaving his luggage in the car, he raced across the gravel and up to the porch steps. A woman with frizzy white hair sat in a chair, staring at him.

  “Hello,” he said as he nodded to her.

  The woman’s gaze looked hopeful. “Kenny?”

  Mitchell brushed some water droplets off his suit. He was just going to throw it away when he got home. “Sorry, no. I’m Mitchell.”

  She scrunched her nose. A car drove by, drawing her attention toward the street.

  Mitchell felt bad as he made his way to the front of the house. He wished he could talk with her more. She seemed lonely. Maybe later. Right now, he was on a mission.

  Opening the front door, he stepped inside. He stood in a small mud room where five cubbies were overflowing with coats and hats. He swiped the rain from his suit one more time, hoping to look presentable. The door swung shut behind him, and its thud caused him to jump. There was no going back now.

  Loud salsa music from down the hall drew his attention. He wiped the bottom of his shoes on the front mat and walked toward the closed door. Not sure what to do, he knocked. When no one answered, he knocked again.

  “Hello?” he called out.

  A laugh broke out from the other side. It was sweet against the spicy music.

  Turning the door handle, he pushed. The kitchen was small and painted with bright yellows and oranges. Colorful dishes were displayed against one wall while aged appliances were sandwiched along another. All the furniture had been pushed to the side to allow for more space.

  “I knocked, but no one answered,” Mitchell said as he stepped further into the room. Suddenly, a woman spun out in front of him. Startled, he reached out and caught her.

  Another giggle. “I’m so sorry—”

  He glanced down and realized why she’d stop talking.

  “Charlie?” he asked, but then instantly felt stupid. Was it still okay if he called her by her first name? He did just get her fired.

  “Rude guy?” She pushed off his chest and took a few steps back.

  “Mitchell,” he corrected.

  She brushed down her skirt. She must be nervous. He’d seen her do that at the diner earlier.

  “Why are you here?” She narrowed her eyes.

  “Why are you here?”

  Her face reddened. “I work here.”

  He glanced around. “You work here and the diner?”

  “Well, not the diner. Not since you got me fired.”

  Heat crept up his neck. “Right, about that. I didn’t mean—”

  “To get me fired. I know. You said that already.” She made her way to far corner where an elderly man stood. “Where were we, Floyd? Before we were so rudely interrupted.”

  She stepped up to him, and they joined hands. His weathered skin wrinkled as he grinned at her.

  “M’lady,” he said as he reached around and placed his hand on her back.

  “Come on,” she said, smiling and resting her hand on his shoulder.

  Floyd leaned forward, and Charlie moved with him. Soon, they were dancing around the kitchen. Not knowing what to do, Mitchell leaned against the far counter and watched. Charlie’s long brown hair had been freed from the confines of the bun she’d had it in earlier, and it swayed with her movements.

  Who was this woman? The softness of her curves as she moved across the kitchen caused his heart to pound. He clenched his jaw. He was here to see his grandmother, that was all. He needed to get his head on straight and focus.

  The song ended, and Charlie led Floyd over to a nearby chair. Then she walked over to the radio and turned the music down. Feeling unsure of what to say, Mitchell fiddled with his p
hone. There was something about her that unnerved him, and he wasn’t sure why.

  “So, what do you want? Trying to get me fired from here as well?” she asked as she glanced over at him.

  He cleared his throat and slipped his phone back into his pocket. Why were his palms so sweaty? It must be the humid Alaskan air. “I’m here to see a resident.”

  She filled a glass with water and took a drink. Her dark brown eyes never left his face. “That’s specific,” she said when she lowered the glass.

  “Rose McDermont?”

  Her gaze softened. “Are you a relative?”

  He nodded. “I’m her grandson.”

  Charlie placed the glass on the counter and rested both hands next to it. Her shoulders rose as if she were taking deep breaths.

  “Is she…is she okay?” Why was she acting this way? Did she have bad news?

  Charlie pushed off the counter and turned. Suddenly, a searing pain shot through his cheek. The impact threw his face to the side. She slapped him! Why did she slap him? He righted himself and glanced over at her. “What the—”

  “That’s for getting me fired and for not coming to see her sooner. What’s with your family? It’s like no one cared that she was getting worse.” Her hands shook as she grasped the one she had just slapped him with.

  He rubbed his cheek as he stared at her. “I didn’t know. It wasn’t until yesterday that I even found out that she was here, much less sick.”

  Her angry gaze softened as his words sank in. “Wait. What?”

  “You’ve been calling my mom. They don’t talk anymore. That’s why no one answered. Believe me, I would’ve come sooner.”

  “Oh.” Her face reddened as she raced over to the freezer and grabbed a few ice cubes. One fell to the ground as she made her way over to him.

  He held out his hand as she dropped them onto his palm. Their coolness shocked his skin.

  “I… I didn’t know. I’m sorry. My emotions have been everywhere today.”

  Mitchell just nodded as he brought the cubes to his cheek. “It’s okay. I guess I deserved that. I mean, I did get you fired.”

  “That’s true.” A smile twitched on her lips.

  Her perfectly formed pink lips. He dropped his gaze and focused on the ice on his cheek. He shouldn’t be staring at her lips. “Is she okay?” Saying something seemed like a good idea. It’d help get his thoughts off of Charlie’s mouth.

  The smile disappeared. “Come on,” she said and turned toward the door he’d just entered. “I’ll be back Floyd,” she called over her shoulder.

  The man nodded as he turned the page of the newspaper he was reading.

  Dread filled Mitchell’s chest as he followed her. This couldn’t be good. What would Rose say? What would she think? He’d been absent from her life for so long, he had little hope she’d forgiven his family. Words once spoken could never be taken back. It’d take time to restore the relationship that was broken. At this moment, from the look on Charlie’s face, he doubted he had that kind of time.

  3

  Charlie

  He was here. Walking right behind her. The man that she’d yelled at behind the diner was here. And she’d slapped him. What was the matter with her?

  Rose. That’s right. That’s why her emotions were so raw. Rose was the person who’d taken the place of her grandmother when she’d passed away. The woman who was now slipping from Charlie’s grasp. The woman who had wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by her family as her life deteriorated.

  Charlie swallowed to still her frustration and led Mitchell up the creaking steps to the second floor. At the top, she took a left. Doors lined either side of the hall. Most residents were mobile enough to move around. They stayed at this home that her grandmother had started to enjoy the retired life.

  Only two of them had memory issues— Francis and Rose. They also happened to be the two women Charlie was fighting so hard to keep here. They were her grandmother’s best friends and basically aunts to her.

  The Alaskan light spilled through the window at the far end of the hall. At the moment, the clouds had parted giving Sitka a few glimpses of sun. She stopped outside Rose’s door, and Mitchell stood a foot away. She could feel his presence.

  Charlie stilled her nerves. It was hard to walk into Rose’s room every day. For some reason, having Mitchell so close to her eased that pain. She tilted her head and glanced over at him. He was staring at the door with a mixture of hurt and frustration across his face.

  He seemed as broken as she felt. And she’d smacked him. Gah. She could be such an idiot sometimes. A hot-headed girl, that’s what her grandmother had always called her.

  “She’s in here,” Charlie said as she reached out and turned the handle.

  Warmth engulfed her fingers. Mitchell had reached out, stilling her hand. Startled, she glanced over at him. His blue eyes were stormy and sad. As her gaze ran down his face, she felt her breath catch in her throat. He was hands down one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen.

  “Wait,” he finally spoke with painful emotion filling his voice.

  She watched as his gaze slipped to their grasped hands then up to her. He released her hand as if he had suddenly realized they were touching.

  “Could you… could you go in there and let her know I’m here?” His voice dropped with each word. “See if she wants to see me?”

  Her hand felt cold from the absence of his. “She’s not very lucid anymore.” A sharpness stabbed her heart as she spoke the words.

  Mitchell pressed his lips together and nodded. From the look in his eyes, he was unable to form any words to speak.

  Twisting the handle, Charlie opened the door and walked inside. The far curtains had been opened, and she let out a sigh. That was a positive sign. It meant today was a good day.

  “Hello,” a honey sweet voice greeted her.

  Charlie made her way farther into the room to see Rose sitting on her bed. She had her hair out of curlers, and her grey hair framed her face. Her makeup was on, and she was dressed. It even looked as if some of the clothes that were normally strewn around the room had been picked up.

  “How are you this afternoon?” Charlie asked, giving her the biggest smile she could muster.

  “Well, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” Rose placed the book that was in her hands down onto her lap.

  “You’re up.” Charlie nodded toward her.

  Rose removed the reading glasses that were perched on her nose. “Well, yes. A respectable person does not spend the whole day in her pajamas.”

  Charlie studied her. Was it Rose? Had she come back?

  “Who are you, my dear?” Rose looked confused. There was no recognition there.

  Charlie’s heart sank at those five words. The worst sentence anyone had ever spoken to her. It meant Rose wasn’t here.

  “It’s Charlie. You know, Charlie?” Even after all this time, she hoped that just reminding Rose would jog her memory.

  Rose shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know you. Are you Tyler’s girl?” A hopeful look flitted across her face.

  Charlie fought the tears that formed on the edge of her eyelids. “No. I’m Dottie’s granddaughter.”

  “Who’s Dottie?”

  Charlie wanted to scream that Dottie was Rose’s best friend. That they’d been inseparable for years. Charlie wanted to force out this horrible disease and bring back the woman who was her only link to her grandmother. But none of that anger did any good. It didn’t change the illness.

  “There’s someone here to see you.” Charlie forced a smile again. Maybe Mitchell could bring her back.

  “Oh? Is it Tyler?” Rose looked hopefully toward the door.

  “No, it’s your grandson.”

  “Grandson? Honey, do I look old enough to be a grandmother?” She smiled as if that thought was completely insane. Then, her face grew serious as her gaze slipped to the door. Charlie turned to see what she was looking at.

  Mitchell had cre
pt into the room and was staring at Rose.

  “Tyler,” Rose breathed as she reached out her hand. “You came.” She choked as a tear ran down her cheek.

  Mitchell turned to Charlie with worry written all over his face. Charlie could only shrug. There was nothing she could do.

  “Well, come here and give your mother a hug. You’re not too old to do that.” Rose opened her arms and waved him over.

  He hesitated but complied.

  Their embrace made Charlie feel as if she were intruding in on their moment. She turned, but not before she saw Mitchell step back and Rose cradle his cheek with her hand.

  “I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

  “Grandma, I’m not Tyler. I’m Mitchell,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion.

  Charlie couldn’t go through this again. She backed out towards the door. A loud thunk sounded behind her. Her face reddened as she whipped around to find that she’d knocked a large decorative vase over. Feeling sheepish, she turned back around to see Rose and Mitchell staring at her.

  “Who’d you bring to see me, Tyler?” Rose turned back to Mitchell and gave him a huge smile. “Is this the girl?”

  “Girl? Tyler? Grandma, you know I’m your grandson,” he said.

  Rose waved her hand in his direction obviously ignoring him. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. Come here, sweetheart. Tyler’s always been shy.” She reached out her hand for Charlie to take.

  Mitchell’s eyes widened as he pleaded with her to do something.

  Rose smiled at Charlie. “Tyler’s told me so much about you,” she said.

  This was the first time in a long time that Rose was actually looking at her as if she knew exactly who Charlie was, and Charlie had forgotten what that felt like.

  Not knowing what else to do, she approached the bed and embraced her. The familiar smell of Rose’s perfume filled her nose. When she pulled away, Rose grasped her hand.

  “It’s so nice to finally meet you.” Rose smiled at Mitchell. “You never told me she was so beautiful.”

  It was subtle, but it looked as if Mitchell blushed as he glanced over at Charlie. But that only lasted until he turned his attention back to Rose.