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Forgetting the Billionaire (A Clean Billionaire Romance Book 1) Page 3


  “Grandma, I already—”

  “I am not your grandmother! Do I look old enough to be a grandma?” Rose’s voice sharpened as she stared at him.

  Mitchell glanced over at Charlie and the pleading returned.

  There was only one option that Charlie saw.

  “Men.” She rolled her eyes and smiled over at Rose. “It’s so nice to finally meet you as well. Tyler’s told me so much about you, too.” She made her way over to Mitchell whose jaw flexed as he stared at her.

  Rose giggled. “Men never get a woman’s age right.” Her admiring gaze had returned. “Grandmother. That’s the worst one yet.”

  Charlie stood next to Mitchell and bit her cheek. How would he react to what she was about to do? Before she lost her nerve, she reached down and grasped his hand. He stiffened next to her.

  Rose beamed. “Look at the two of you. Don’t you make a beautiful couple?”

  “What are you doing?” Mitchell whispered.

  Charlie forced a smile and leaned over. “It’s what she needs. Go with me on this.”

  She could feel his stare on her, but she just turned her attention back to Rose.

  “Fine,” he whispered, but his stance never softened.

  “How long are you visiting for?” Rose asked.

  Charlie glanced over at Mitchell who looked as if he had eaten something sour.

  “Please say a while,” Rose pleaded.

  When it seemed that Mitchell wasn’t going to respond, Charlie squeezed his fingers to nudge him. His gaze returned to her.

  “Sweetheart, how long are we going to be here?” Charlie asked, glancing over at him.

  His shoulders slumped. “I wasn’t— oh, a week,” he said as Charlie tightened her grasp.

  Rose looked elated. “That’s wonderful. Please join me for dinner tonight?”

  “Wha—”

  “We’d love to.” Charlie interrupted as her heart sang. It’d been such a long time since Rose had wanted to leave her room. There was no way Charlie was going to let him mess things up.

  “We’d what?” Mitchell asked.

  “See you at seven?” Charlie ignored him. She didn’t want Rose to change her mind.

  Rose smiled. “Brilliant.”

  Charlie leaned in. “It was nice to meet you, Rose.”

  Rose nodded and picked up her book and glasses. She looked tired so Charlie decided not to push her further.

  “Come on,” she said to Mitchell and pulled him from the room.

  Once the door was shut, Mitchell turned to her. “What was that?” he said, waving his hand toward the closed door.

  She shrugged. “It’s what Rose wanted.”

  He scrubbed his face. “But it’s a lie. All of it. I’m not Tyler, and you’re not my girlfriend.”

  Charlie chewed her bottom lip. “I know that. Who’s Tyler anyways?”

  Suddenly, the red carpet that ran the length of the hall seemed very interesting to him. He brushed it with the toe of his shoe. “My dad,” he whispered.

  There was something in his countenance that told Charlie not to push the topic. It must have to do with the history that had torn the family apart. Rose never spoke of it either.

  As Charlie took in his pain, it fanned her desire to comfort him. She shook her head. That might get a bit awkward. She folded her arms so she didn’t reach out.

  “Listen, I know this is hard for you. I don’t know the history, but I do know that this means a lot to Rose. Can you do this? Please?” How hard was it for him to pretend to be her boyfriend for one dinner? “I mean, unless you have a hot girlfriend back home.”

  His gaze flew to her face.

  Oh. Well that answered that question. “Well, I’m sure she won’t mind you doing this to help your grandmother feel better.”

  He raised his eyebrow.

  Charlie paused. “Okay, maybe she will. But it’s not like it’s real.” She grew serious. “I’ve known your grandmother for a long time. It’s been months since I’ve seen her so interested in something. Please, do this for her. She doesn’t have that…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish those last few words.

  “A dinner?” He turned his gaze to her.

  “Yes.”

  He took in a deep breath. “I can do dinner.”

  Mitchell stuck around for a few minutes longer, but then left stating he might as well stay the night so needed to secure a hotel room. Now alone, Charlie sat at the kitchen table staring at the dark wood top. She chewed her bottom lip and allowed her gaze to fall to her left. The mound of unopened envelopes that she had dumped onto the table moments ago taunted her.

  Sighing, she pulled her hair back up into a bun and slid the bills over until they were right in front of her.

  Just like a bandage— rip it off, she chanted in her head.

  The back door slammed shut, causing her to jump.

  Penny walked in, shaking off her umbrella. “Hey, honey,” she exclaimed, hanging her jacket on a hook and stepping into the kitchen. She patted her pure white hair, adjusting the places that the wind had touched.

  Penny had worked at the house for as long as Charlie could remember. Her grandmother had given her room and board in exchange for help with the residents. After she passed away, Charlie was more than happy to have Penny stay on.

  “How was the beauty shop?” Charlie asked. She leaned against her chair, grateful for the distraction. Anything to provide distance between herself and the responsibility that loomed over her.

  Penny made her way over to the cupboard and pulled out the kettle and tea bags. “Tea?” she asked as she turned on the water.

  Charlie nodded. “Sure.”

  Once the kettle was on the stove, Penny took the seat next to her.

  “That’s quite the pile of mail,” she said, eyeing the bills.

  Heat crept up Charlie’s cheeks. “Yeah.”

  “Want some help?”

  Charlie shook her head. She didn’t want the residents to know just how bad things were. She was going to fix this. There had to be a way. “Naw. It’s pretty boring.”

  Penny raised her eyebrows. She had a look that said she didn’t believe her.

  The whistle of the kettle rang in the air, and Charlie leapt from the table. “I’ll get it.”

  “Charlie,” Penny said in a voice that meant she knew Charlie was leaving out details. Charlie’s grandma had used the same tone.

  Smacking a tea packet against her palm, Charlie refused to turn around. “Really, Penny, it’s nothing.” After ripping open the packaging, she filled two mugs and dipped the bags into the water.

  When she turned, she caught Penny staring at her. She could feel her suspicion through her gaze. Brushing it off, Charlie set a mug down in front of Penny and returned to her seat.

  They each blew on the steam that rose from the water.

  Penny set her mug down and turned. “You know, your granny never intended this place to be a burden for you. She knew it had been your home since you were a child and lord knows, she loved the residents here, but she always wanted to see you go and make something of yourself.”

  Tears brimmed the edge of Charlie’s lids. “But, Penny…”

  Her weathered hand reached across the table and enveloped Charlie’s. “I know you’re as stubborn as your granny and you’ll do what you want. I’m just telling you, it’s okay to let some things go.”

  Charlie’s heart twisted at the words. How could she let go? This was the place her grandmother had built. She’d only been gone less than a year and already Charlie had run it into the ground. What did that say about her?

  Taking a sip of the steaming tea, the heat pierced Charlie’s throat. She could never leave this place. She’d stay until it was saved.

  4

  Mitchell

  “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?” Mitchell asked as he stood at the front desk of the Black Bear Motel, staring at a man with thick rimmed glass. He was trying to process what the man had just said.
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  “I already told you. We don’t have any rooms available.”

  “Why? Who’d come here? Full?” His emotions were still raw from seeing Rose, and he wasn’t in the mood for this. He needed a shower and to relax before his dinner appointment.

  The man raised his eyebrows as he stared at Mitchell. “Plenty of people. Evidence—we’re full.”

  “Listen, I’ll pay anything. Just get me a room.”

  Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. The clerk leaned forward as he jutted out his finger. “Sir, I’m sure things are done differently in the lower forty-eight but here, we honor our reservations. It’s how we keep repeat customers.”

  “But—”

  “Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” The man waved his hand toward the door.

  Mitchell glanced outside and ran his hands through his hair as his frustration boiled over. He was about to offer the man three times the cost of a room, but when he turned around, the man was gone.

  Grabbing the handle of his suitcase, Mitchell dragged it out to the drizzling rain. He picked it up and raced over to his rental. Once inside, he brushed the droplets off his clothes and turned his attention outside. What was he going to do now?

  The Black Bear Motel had been the last place to check. Every other motel was booked as well. Apparently, there was a big music festival happening this weekend and all the rooms had been reserved for months. Every clerk had turned him away. Even when he offered them a substantial amount of money. This community was too small. It was strange when honor trumped cash.

  Gripping the steering wheel, Mitchell turned the key and the car started up.

  “Dottie’s Retirement Home,” he said to his phone. He had no choice. There was no other place for him to go.

  The phone responded and in ten minutes, he was parked behind the red house as he’d done before. He shut off the car and grabbed his luggage. He’d hoped Charlie would be hospitable. As he raced up the back steps his heart quickened. There had been something there when she had grabbed his hand. A feeling he couldn’t describe.

  Mitchell shook his head. What was he? Fifteen? He didn’t get crushes. Besides, he had Victoria. She had all but scheduled the wedding date.

  When he got to the front door, he pulled it open and entered. The house was quiet. A dim light cast shadows across the floor of the study on the left. Bookshelves lined the far wall. Three worn arm chairs sat in a circle in the middle of the room. The decorations were dated. This didn’t seem like a home of someone in their twenties.

  Two voices carried out from the kitchen. The door was open so Mitchell made his way toward it.

  He picked out Charlie’s instantly. It was young and sweet. The second voice was older. Standing in the door frame, Mitchell glanced around.

  Charlie was sitting at the table that had been dragged back to the center of the kitchen. She had her legs pulled up with a mug balanced on one knee. Her hair was back up in a bun. The woman next to her was older. She had white hair and was laughing.

  “Hi again,” Mitchell said, stepping into the room.

  Charlie jumped slightly as she turned to face him. Her eyes widened as her gaze whipped to the clock. “I thought we had agreed on later,” she said, setting the mug down and standing. “I haven’t even started dinner yet.”

  Mitchell raised his hand. “No. You said seven. It’s just that, well, I’ve been to every motel in Sitka, and they’re all booked. Something about a festival this weekend.”

  “Oh,” Charlie said, glancing over to the other woman.

  The older woman nodded and smiled. “That sounds about right. And you are?”

  “Penny, I’m sorry, this is Mitchell. Rose’s grandson,” Charlie said as she brought her mug over to the sink.

  Penny’s eyebrow furrowed as she ran her gaze over him. “About time, huh?”

  Mitchell opened his mouth to reply, but Charlie beat him to it.

  “No, it’s not like that. Apparently, he just found out that Rose was even here. He came right away.”

  Penny glanced at Charlie then back to him. “Well, it’s nice to meet you then.”

  “Penny’s been helping out around here since I can remember,” Charlie said as she leaned against a nearby counter and folded her arms.

  “Nice to meet you.” Mitchell nodded, and Penny returned it with a smile.

  “So, what are you going to do?” Charlie motioned toward his suitcase.

  He cleared his throat. “I was hoping I could get a room here. If you don’t mind.”

  Charlie’s face flushed as she narrowed her eyes. Mitchell studied her. What did that mean?

  “I’m… well…” she turned her gaze over to Penny.

  “How long do you need a place?” Penny asked.

  “I’m kind of taking it day by day.” Mitchell glanced over at Charlie who had her lips pinched together.

  “I don’t think that should be a problem. Do you, Charlie?” Penny asked, glancing over at her.

  Charlie shook her head then paused. Then she started to nod. “I just don’t think that this is such a good idea. Booked? All of them? Really?” She walked over to the window and peered out.

  Mitchell clenched his jaw. He couldn’t go back out into the rain. “Listen, I’ll pay you.”

  “Hey, there’s an idea,” Penny said, glancing over at Charlie who was shaking her head.

  “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  “How does a thousand dollars a night sound?” He was getting desperate and needed a shower something terrible. The constant drizzle outside wasn’t cutting it.

  “A—thou—” Charlie’s mouth dropped open.

  “Two thousand?”

  Her face paled at the words. “I don’t think—”

  “Three—” he continued, but she raised her hand.

  “A thousand is fine.” She gave him a weak smile.

  Grabbing the handle of his suitcase, he grinned. “Great. Now, which room is mine?”

  As if still in a daze, Charlie stumbled from the window. “I’ll show you,” she said.

  When she passed by him, she waved at him to follow. Out in the hall, she led him over to the stairs. When they reached the top, she walked down the hall to the far end.

  She stopped outside of a room and waited for him to join her.

  “It’s not much,” she said as she opened up the door and entered. “But it should work.”

  “That’s okay.” He followed after her. The room was tiny. It looked as if it could have fit inside of his bathroom at home. Everything was covered in pink wallpaper. A twin bed hugged the far wall with an armoire and dresser crowding the rest of the room.

  “This is fine,” he said. He’d make this work even though he was used to high thread count sheets and modern amenities.

  Charlie walked over to the armoire and opened it. She pulled out a blanket and made her way over to the bed and shook it out. It floated down onto the lumpy mattress.

  “There’s only one bathroom, I’m sorry to say. It’s in the middle of the hall, right across from the stairway.”

  Mitchell glanced to the door and nodded.

  “You’ll have to turn the hot all the way to the left. If you don’t, the shower won’t ever get warm. Also, jiggle the toilet handle or it will run all night. Besides Rose, there are five other residents.” She stopped tucking the corners of the blanket and turned to smile at him. “But they go to bed pretty early so don’t worry about sharing. Once eight o’clock rolls around, you should have it to yourself.”

  Mitchell nodded. “Do you stay here?”

  Charlie’s cheeks flushed. “Yes. I’m downstairs in my grandmother’s room.”

  “You grew up here?”

  She nodded. “My parents died when I was five. I’ve lived here ever since.”

  Mitchell glanced around. What a strange place to grow up in.

  “It wasn’t like that. I loved growing up here.” Her features softened as she glanced around.

  Mitchell could
only nod. He understood what it was like to have a special relationship with a grandparent. Too bad his lay in a bed a few doors down and didn’t recognize him. “Does she talk about me?”

  Charlie looked confused. “Who? Rose?”

  Mitchell cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

  “Some.”

  “Hmm.” He wondered for a moment just what she’d said. How much did this Charlie person know about him?

  She brushed the blanket flat and turned. “Bed’s ready. I’m gonna head downstairs and get started on dinner. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

  Mitchell moved past the door so Charlie could slip out. Once she was gone, he shut the door and stared at the room. What a different life this was from his. Even though it looked like the decorations hadn’t changed in years, there was a homey feel. One that he was missing in his penthouse in New York.

  He grabbed his suitcase and flopped it on the bed. Unzipping it, he found his sweats and Yale t-shirt and headed out into the hallway. A shower sounded amazing.

  The bathroom was small, and it was carpeted. He grimaced as he slipped off his shoes. Besides that, the only other thing that he noticed was the fact that there was no lid on the toilet. He leaned over and turned on the shower. Steam billowed over the top of the curtain and filled the room.

  He placed his sweats on the toilet tank. Slipping off his suit coat, he inspected it. Yep, just as he thought, it was ruined. He undressed, allowing his clothes to crumple to the ground. They were headed to the garbage anyways.

  The water surrounded him as he stepped into the shower. Pressing his hands onto the wall in front of him, he let the water beat on his back. All the stress and worry from the day flowed from his muscles and down the drain.

  Pushing off the wall, he grabbed the nearest bottle of soap and lathered up. It wasn’t the fancy soap that Sondra, his assistant, bought him, but he felt refreshed as it washed from his body.

  Now clean, he shut off the water and reached out for a towel. He located one right above the toilet tank. He grabbed it and dried off.

  Wrapping it around his waist, he opened the curtain and cursed. Somehow, while grabbing for a towel, he’d managed to knock his fresh clothes into the toilet. He scrubbed his face with his hands as he glanced around. His room wasn’t that far.