Forgetting the Billionaire (A Clean Billionaire Romance Book 1) Read online

  After shoving his discarded suit into the trash, he pulled open the door.

  “Geez,” he exclaimed. Standing in front of him with a shocked expression was Charlie. Her hand was raised as if she’d been interrupted mid-knock.

  Her gaze dropped to his chest and then back up. A smiled twitched on his lips as a blush burned on her cheeks.

  She raised her hand to shield her gaze. “I’m so sorry. I just wanted to let you know that dinner’s ready.”

  With her eyes covered, Mitchell allowed his gaze to drop to her lips. Her pink, pouty lips. “I knocked my clothes into the toilet,” he said.

  She pulled her hand down, but kept her gaze focused on the bathroom. “Yeah, sorry about that. I had to remove the lid. Francis kept hiding things in it.”

  “Francis?”

  Her gaze flitted over to him. “Another resident here.”

  “Was she the one on porch earlier?” The memory of the woman sitting alone entered his mind. He’d felt so helpless when she thought he was someone else.

  Charlie nodded. “Yes.”

  He folded his arms over his bare chest and nodded. “Well, I should probably go get dressed for dinner.”

  “Yeah. I’ll grab a bag and fish out your clothes.”

  Mitchell reached out, and brushed her arm. “I’ll do it.”

  Her gaze dropped to his hand. “Th-that’s okay. I’ve got it.”

  “You sure?” he asked.

  “Do it all the time. I kind of have a system.”

  He pulled his hand from her arm and dropped it to his side. Flexing his fingers, he tried to forget the feeling of her soft skin against his. “Thanks.”

  She nodded. “I’ll throw them in the wash as well. They’ll be ready after dinner.”

  “Thankfully, I have a spare,” he called out as he headed down the hall to his room. Once inside, he shut the door and dressed. His hand still tingled from their encounter. He rubbed it on his sweats. Nothing he did could remove the memory of her warm skin.

  Why was he being so ridiculous? There was nothing between them. If anything, their relationship was a ruse for a woman who couldn’t even remember who he was. He towel dried his hair a bit rougher than normal. Anything to get his mind off of Charlie. That’s not why he was here. He was here to say goodbye. He needed to remember that.

  A chime sounded on the other side of the room. He walked over and picked up his phone. He’d managed to miss fifteen texts from Victoria. Each one more urgent then the next. He half-heartedly scrolled through them. Something about his mother and the business.

  His fingers rested on the screen as he read the last message.

  I’m coming

  5

  Charlie

  She’d seen his chest. His tan, muscular chest. Heat burned her cheeks as she entered the bathroom, thankful for the distraction. As she pulled out a plastic bag that she had stashed under the sink, she focused on the drowning clothing. Nothing cut through romantic thoughts like toilet water.

  After she fished out his clothes, she shoved them into the bag and tied it closed. She would go get Rose, then bring the bag downstairs and throw the clothes into the washer.

  With her hands sanitized, she shut the bathroom door, and headed down the hall. Two soft knocks on Rose’s door, and she waited. There was no response, so she turned the handle and entered.

  “Hello?” she whispered as she stepped inside.

  Rose hadn’t moved from her bed. That wasn’t unusual. Rose spent most days tucked under her covers, reading. Sometimes, the same book over and over. A sign that her memory was getting worse.

  “Rose?” Charlie approached the bed.

  Rose’s head tipped to the side, and the sound of her shallow breathing filled the air.

  Any other time, Charlie would have just let her sleep. But this afternoon, Rose had only picked at her lunch. If Charlie didn’t get Rose’s weight up, she might be taken from the house. And that was a thought that Charlie couldn’t fathom. She was already dealing with so much loss as it was.

  Walking over to her, Charlie reached out and touched her shoulder. “Rose,” she said, giving her a little shake.

  Rose moaned, but didn’t wake.

  “Come on, it’s time for dinner.” Charlie shook her shoulder harder this time.

  Rose moaned again, but this time, her eyes fluttered open. “What?” she asked as she righted her head and glanced around. When her gaze fell on Charlie’s face, the same confused look rested in her eyes. “Who are you?”

  Swallowing against the lump in her throat, Charlie smiled. “I’m Charlie.”

  Rose’s eyes were vacant. “Charlie? Do I know you?”

  Charlie pinched her lips together and nodded. “Yes, you do,” she whispered.

  “Is Tyler here?” Rose asked as her gaze roamed the room.

  “Yes.”

  A smile spread across Rose’s lips. “Where?”

  “Downstairs. It’s time for dinner. He’s here to eat with you.” Charlie pulled one corner of the comforter back and extended her arm.

  The thought of her son seemed to have healing effects on Rose. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. “I’m so excited. It’s been too long.” She accepted the robe that Charlie handed her and tied it around her waist. “I knew he’d come. I just knew it.”

  With slippers on, Charlie helped her to the door and out into the hallway.

  As they made their way toward the stairs, Floyd’s door opened. He glanced at Rose, and then to Charlie.

  “How’s she this evening?” he asked, his voice full of hope.

  All Charlie could do was shake her head. “Not good,” she whispered.

  His face fell. “Should I come to dinner?”

  Charlie shrugged. “If you want.”

  Rose and Floyd had been together for five years, but now, Rose had no idea who he was. It broke Charlie’s heart every time she had to tell Floyd that nothing had changed. He was still a stranger to the woman he loved.

  He nodded and slipped into the hallway, shutting his door behind him.

  “Do I know you?” Rose asked as Floyd neared them.

  “Yes, I’m Floyd,” he said as he took her other arm and the three of them headed down the stairs.

  Mitchell was sitting at the table as they entered. His hair was still damp, and he was wearing a t-shirt and sweats. Charlie tried hard not to stare, but it was hard when he looked so good unkempt. Why he wore suits boggled her mind.

  “Tyler!” Rose exclaimed when she spotted him. “You came.” A tear slipped down her cheek as she quickened her pace to reach him.

  “Rose, slow down.” Charlie smiled as she helped her over. It felt so good to see her so excited.

  “Gran—I mean, Rose,” Mitchell said as he stood and pulled her into a hug. The embrace lasted longer than a hug between strangers. It made Charlie wonder just what had happened in that family.

  Mitchell was the one to break the hug. He helped Rose settle in on her chair and then sat next to her. The casserole that Charlie had made was in the center of the table, and it was no longer steaming.

  Charlie pulled out the chair across from Mitchell which allowed Floyd to sit opposite Rose. Once the food was dished up, Floyd and Rose began talking about the current events. It sounded good to hear Rose happy. Charlie blinked, hoping the threatening tears wouldn’t fall.

  “Thanks,” Mitchell said as he leaned forward.

  Her gaze fell to him. “What?” she asked.

  “Thanks for saving me back there,” he said with a half-smile. “You know, with the clothes.”

  And your naked chest. Charlie’s cheeks burned as she shook her head. That was not what she should be thinking about. Then she realized that she’d forgotten his clothes outside of the bathroom.

  “Shoot. Hang on, I’ll be right back.” She pushed away from the table and rushed up the stairs.

  After starting a load in the basement, she walked into the foyer just in time to see Floyd leading Rose up
the stairs. He had her dinner plate in his hand.

  “Everything okay?” Charlie asked.

  Floyd shook his head. “She was getting tired. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she eats more.”

  Charlie nodded. Once they disappeared at the top of the stairs, she turned her attention back to the kitchen. Back to Mitchell.

  He was still sitting at the table when she entered. His gaze met hers, and her breath caught in her throat. He looked sad.

  “You okay?” she asked as she headed over to her chair.

  He pushed the food around on his plate. “Yeah.” He took another bite, and they sat in silence.

  “How do you do it?” Mitchell asked.

  Charlie glanced over at him. “Do what?”

  “Live like this. Day in and day out. Being with someone who doesn’t know who you are.” He turned his gaze to the table where he pushed some abandoned salt around with his finger.

  Charlie swallowed. “It’s hard. Living and hoping for those fleeting moments when they remember you.” Her stomach twisted as a tear rolled down her cheek. Today’s events had been too much. She could no longer keep her emotions at bay.

  Feeling stupid, she reached up and wiped the tear from her face. “I’m sorry,” she said. She wasn’t hungry anymore, so she grabbed her plate and threw the leftover food into the garbage. At the sink, she flipped on the water and channeled all her frustration into scrubbing the food off.

  Chair legs scraped against the floor. “I’m sorry,” he whispered from behind her.

  A shiver ran down her spine. She could feel his presence. She wanted to turn, but feared his closeness.

  He reached out, brushing his arm against hers. “Do you mind if I…” he nodded toward the sink with his plate in hand.

  “Sure.” She backed away, grateful for the distance that put between them. She’d hadn’t felt like this since Alex, and it scared her.

  He busied himself with rinsing his plate while she leaned against the far counter, gnawing on her nail. No longer able to stand the silence, she decided to speak up. “So what’s your story?”

  His half smile returned as he glanced over at her. “My story?”

  She tucked a piece of her hair that had fallen out behind her ear. “Yeah. Like, where are you from? What do you do? That sort of thing.”

  He shut off the water and shook the droplets off his plate. After setting it in the drying rack, he turned. “Well, I’m from New York, and I’m a business man.”

  “What type of business?”

  Grabbing a dish rag, he dried his hands. “Real estate.”

  “You’re a realtor?”

  He smiled. “Something like that.”

  Needing something to do, Charlie walked over to the table, grabbed the casserole, and brought it over to the counter. Francis only ate in her room, so Charlie dished up her plate. Then she wrapped up the rest and put it in the fridge. The other residents ate at different times so would dish up as they wanted.

  “How about you?” Mitchell asked.

  “Me?”

  He nodded.

  “My grandmother, Dottie, took care of me.”

  He glanced around. “She started this place?”

  Charlie smiled. “She was an awesome woman. She and Rose were best friends.”

  A hurt look flashed over his face.

  Instantly, Charlie felt stupid. “I’m sorry.” Then curiosity got the better of her. “What happened?”

  He looked at her with his lips drawn together.

  “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me. It’s none of my business.” Why did she have to be such an idiot sometimes?

  “It’s okay. It’s just something I don’t really like talking about.”

  Charlie smiled. “It’s okay. I get it.” For as long as she’d known Rose, Rose never talked about it either.

  “Ever been to the states?” he asked.

  She shrugged. A few times, but she never liked it. There was something comforting about the expansiveness of Alaska. “A few times.”

  He gave her a small smile. “Wasn’t that impressed with it?”

  She shook her head. “Not really.”

  “This place is that amazing, huh?”

  A smile twitched on her lips. “You don’t think so?”

  Wrinkling his nose, he shook his head. “Not really.”

  “Well, I think we need to remedy that.”

  “Oh, really? And how are we going to do that?” His eyebrows shot up.

  Charlie chewed her bottom lip. “Come with me tomorrow, and I’ll show you.”

  He paused as he studied her. “It’s a date.”

  That blasted half-smile was back and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, heat raced to her cheeks. She grabbed Francis’s plate and turned. “I gotta go bring this to a resident.”

  He nodded, and she slipped from the room. Once she was out of his presence, she felt like she could breathe again. As she climbed the stairs, she shook her head. Why was she so ridiculous sometimes? Falling for the handsome and intriguing stranger? Isn’t that what had gotten her into trouble before?

  She stood outside of Francis’s room and knocked on the door. When no one answered, she headed into the room anyway. After a quick scan, her stomach sank. Francis was gone. Again.

  Setting the plate on her dresser, Charlie rushed from her room and out to the hall. After knocking on every door, she began to panic. No one knew where Francis was. She raced down the stairs and into the kitchen where Mitchell stood against the sink, drinking a glass of water.

  His watched her with wide eyes. “You okay?”

  Charlie shook her head as she pulled open the pantry door and peered inside. Francis wasn’t in there. “A resident’s missing.”

  He set the glass down on the counter. “Missing? Who?”

  “Francis. She wasn’t in her room.”

  In two steps, he was standing next to her. “Does this happen a lot?”

  Charlie nodded. “She gets confused.” She made her way over to the back door and grabbed her coat. The image of that small woman lost on the streets of Sitka crowded her mind. “Penny!” Charlie called down the hall.

  Penny opened her door. “Yeah?”

  “Francis is gone. I’m gonna go look for her. Hold down the fort, okay?”

  “Yep,” Penny called back.

  Charlie turned back to the door and reached for the handle.

  “Let me get my shoes. I’ll help,” Mitchell said.

  She glanced down at his hand that he’d wrapped around her arm to stop her. Not sure what to say, she just nodded.

  He smiled and removed his grasp. Once she was alone, Charlie took a deep breath. She needed to calm down. Thankfully, this was a small town, and if someone discovered Francis roaming the streets, they would most likely bring her back. There were a few places Francis was most likely to go, but if she wasn’t there, Charlie wasn’t sure what she’d do.

  Needing to do something, Charlie began to button her raincoat. Just as she fastened the last one, Mitchell returned wearing a Yale sweatshirt and shoes.

  “Alumni?” she asked, nodding toward the bulldog.

  “Yeah.”

  Charlie raised her eyebrows. Rose had mentioned something about her son marrying a wealthy woman.

  Twirling his key ring around his finger, Mitchell pulled open the back door. “Ready?”

  Charlie nodded and followed him outside.

  The sun had dipped below the trees, but its glow still illuminated the sky. It would light the way.

  She couldn’t help but notice Mitchell’s furrowed brow. His gaze hadn’t left her face. He shot her a smile as he made his way over to a pink VW Bug.

  “Your chariot, m’lady,” he said, dipping down into a bow.

  She couldn’t help, but smile. Seriously? This was his car?

  As if sensing her question, he glanced over at her. “It was the only one left to rent.”

  “It looks like bubble gum,” she said.

  He
patted the roof of the car. “Yeah. Not something I normally go for.”

  “I think it’s a great color.” When she heard the click of the locks releasing, she pulled open the door and slipped onto the seat.

  Mitchell started up the engine. “Where to?”

  “She doesn’t normally go far. Let’s keep to the streets around here. There are a few places we can check.”

  He nodded and pulled onto the main road.

  Charlie could walk these streets blindfolded. As she peered out the window, she kept her eyes open for any sign of Francis. Guilt filled her chest. Why couldn’t she keep these women safe? It was the last thing she promised her grandmother before she passed away. But right now, she was failing them.

  6

  Mitchell

  Mitchell drove the narrow streets according to Charlie’s directions. He could tell she was nervous. He wished he could say something to ease her mind, but the words didn’t come. The standard sentiments seemed a bit too bland. It took a brave person to take care of the retirement home.

  He leaned over and turned on the radio. A soft ballad filled the car. From the corner of his eye, he saw Charlie begin to tap her fingers on her leg.

  “Are you a dancer?”

  She twisted to look at him. “What?”

  “A dancer. You were dancing in the kitchen earlier and now…” He nodded toward her hand.

  Her cheeks flushed as she glanced toward his gesture. “Once. Now, I’m too busy.” She waved at him to take a left.

  He turned on his blinker. “Were you good?”

  “I think so.”

  “Hmm, you’ll have to show me sometime. My mom insisted that I learn ballroom dance as a child.”

  She studied him. “Really? You dance?”

  “A bit.”

  “I can’t wait to see it.” She turned her gaze outside.

  “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s not that amazing.”

  Trees surrounded the road as Mitchell drove deeper into the woods. He kept his eyes open for the woman’s frizzy hair, but all he saw were branches and leaves.