My Billionaire Crush: A Peachtree Billionaires Novel Read online

  My Billionaire Crush

  A Peachtree Billionaires Novel

  Cate Remy

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, dialogue, incidents, and places either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  My Billionaire Crush. Copyright 2018 by Cate Remy

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be resold, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. Piracy is illegal. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Books by Cate Remy

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Harper, Georgia

  Angie Franklin wiped oil from her hands before she closed the hood of the black Jaguar convertible. She glanced at her disheveled reflection on the hood’s shiny waxed surface and fixed the scarf securing her hair. Whoever owned this car was rich, showy, and definitely not a local. She glanced at the bottom of the license plate and saw the two-digit number for Fulton County. This person was fresh from Atlanta.

  The door to the auto body shop swung open and in walked the owner and manager Mr. Stokes. “How’s the oil change coming on the Jag?”

  “All done.” She lifted the keys from the wooden peg board on the wall. “I’ll drive it around front for the owner.”

  “He’s not here. He’s at the Kleghorn Hotel. You’ll need to take the car to him.”

  The request was a bit unusual. She checked the front of her work jumpsuit and steel-toed boots to make sure she didn’t have any oil or brake fluid on them. “Who’s the fancy guy I’m delivering this car to?”

  “Max Kelly.”

  Angie snapped her head up so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. “Did you say Max Kelly?”

  “Yeah, Harper High’s star quarterback. He’s in the big leagues now. Not football, but he grew his father’s medical supply company into a billion dollar business.”

  Her mind flashed back a decade ago to when she first entered Harper High as a gawky fourteen year-old freshman with braids and braces. Her brother Detrick, a junior, high-fived her in the hall on the way to first period class. He walked beside his classmate, a tall guy with perfectly tousled brown hair and a pair of sky blue eyes that had the power to stop someone in place.

  At least, it’s what Angie’s younger high school self experienced when she first saw Max. He ignored her and kept walking down the hall, chatting with her brother about varsity jackets and a pep rally.

  Angie blinked and returned to the present, surprised she remembered so much detail from so long ago. A pang of sadness spread in her chest.

  “Better get going. He sounded like he was in a hurry on the phone.” Her manager left the garage.

  She settled into the leather seat of the Jag, adjusting it to get closer to the steering wheel. Only one more day at this temp job before the full-time mechanic returned from sick leave. She had to keep doing well so she could get a good recommendation for the next gig, whenever that would be. She needed the new job soon, though, like yesterday.

  Her cellphone in her jumpsuit pocket beeped. It reminded her to pick up her seven year-old son Raymond an hour early from school to go to his dentist appointment. The sooner she delivered Max’s car, the sooner she could get a handle on her own busy day.

  * * *

  Angie pulled the Jag into the parking lot of the Kleghorn Hotel. Good thing her brother taught her how to drive a stick shift before he left to join the Army a couple years ago. Otherwise, she would’ve dinged the fender on a pole on the way in. After buying Raymond a new pair of shoes to replace those he outgrew, she could not afford to have damages coming out of her paycheck.

  A short man in a suit flagged her down from the hotel’s double doors. He ran out from under the awning. “What took you so long?”

  Who was this person, and why was he in such a hurry? “I think you have the wrong person. I’m delivering this car to Max Kelly.”

  “I can see that.” He whipped out his wallet and shoved a bill into Angie’s hand. “I’m his attorney.”

  “Good, the car’s here.” A deeper male voice caused Angie to turn her head. Another man, much taller, with broad, athletic shoulders, strode out from the hotel dressed in a navy business suit and Italian loafers. “About time it arrived. This business deal’s not going to happen if I’m not there.” He sported a pair of Ray-Bans with black lenses. He reached the car, pulled the sunglasses down over his nose and peered at her over the rims. “Do I know you?”

  She froze with her hands gripping the ergonomically-designed steering wheel. There he was, Max Kelly in the flesh. Same piercing blue eyes. Same oblivious attitude. “No, but you knew my brother Detrick Franklin. He used to call you a friend.”

  Recognition made a light dawn in those eyes. “Angela?”

  “It’s Angie these days.” She got out of the car. She forgot how tall he was in high school. Maybe he even grew a little since then. She was five seven. He stood eight inches taller than her.

  “You changed the oil in my car?”

  “Yes, I did.” If she had a dollar for every time a guy’s eyes bugged out of his head when they learned she was a mechanic, she’d have enough to pay for Raymond’s first two years of college. “You’re going to need new brake pads soon.”

  “Max, you’re going to be late.” His attorney tapped his fitness watch to bring up the time.

  “Got it, Rob.” Max pushed his shades higher on the bridge of his nose. “Think you could step aside and let me get into my car, Angie?”

  She saw her own annoyed reflection in the mirrored surface of the lenses. She moved to the left to clear a path for him. He lowered his head. His lips curled. What was he looking at with so much disgust? She followed his gaze to the driver’s seat and saw an oil smudge on the expensive leather.

  “Oh, no.” She peered down over one shoulder to discover oil on the seat of her jumpsuit. She must have bumped into a bottle of it on the table back at the shop.

  “Don’t you know to put a paper mat on the seat and floorboard before you get in the car?” Rob huffed. “I’ll ask the hotel for towels.” He marched inside the Kleghorn.

  Angie felt something crinkly in her left hand. She realized she still held the tip he gave her. She opened her hand to discover a hundred dollar bill. “I’m really sorry.” She offered it to Max.

  He turned right around. “It’s going to cost a lot more than a hundred bucks to clean my car interior. I’ll call the shop later.” He walked into the hotel, leaving her standing in the parking lot alone with a dirty Jaguar and a crumpled Benjamin.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Max drove away from his business meeting at Sweet Emma’s Diner with a full belly and empty hands. “Steve and Charley wasted
my time, Rob. I thought they were going to sell me the land they own so I can build the hospital. All they wanted was to tell me old stories about my dad.”

  Rob checked the stock market on his phone before the closing day bell. “They’re old school. They remember doing business with your father and want to share it with you. Think of it as an icebreaker.”

  “I don’t need to break the ice. I need to get a hospital up and running.” Max tapped the brakes as the car came to a stoplight. He kept his foot on the brakes as he rose to adjust the bunched towels on his seat.

  “Like it or not, those guys aren’t in any rush. Although, there is something you can do to make a better impression on them.”

  The light turned green. Max drove down the quiet road past the Main Street shops he used to hang out in at as a kid. “What was wrong with my first impression?”

  “Nothing, if you’re doing business in Atlanta. Harper’s a small town. Those men said they were born in towns tinier than this.”

  “What’s your point?” He got impatient as he had to slow down behind a white Buick. Did everyone decide to drive fifteen miles under the speed limit after he grew up and left this town?

  “Steve and Charley have old-fashioned values. Wives, kids. You need to reflect those values if you want your name on the land deed.”

  “You want me to tell them I value marriage and family at the next dinner meeting?”

  “Show, don’t tell.” Rob put his phone in his jacket pocket. “They said to bring a guest. Take a woman and introduce her as your fiancée.”

  “Talk about a little white lie.”

  “They’ll be open to negotiations if they see you have aspirations to be a family man like them and your father.”

  Max kept his hand on the gear shift. He turned twenty-eight at the beginning of this month, and had no intentions of settling down anytime soon. “That couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

  His attorney sighed. “Do you want them to sell you the land or not?”

  “It’s a crazy idea.” Max drove into the parking lot of the Kleghorn. “Who would I ask to be my pretend fiancée, anyway?”

  “Call Bella and ask if she’ll do you a favor.”

  Max frowned as he put the car in park. “We broke up over a year ago.” Last he heard, she was skiing in the Alps and living in an artist commune with a Nordic boy toy. “Maybe I can hire an actress.”

  “It has to be someone you know. It’ll make things more believable.”

  “I can’t think of a woman who could pass as my fiancée.”

  Rob tapped his chin. “What about your high school classmate, the one who brought your car from the shop?”

  “Angela-I mean, Angie? We barely knew each other. She was my friend’s little sister.”

  Rob shrugged. “You two have history, then. She’s a local, too.”

  And kind of cute in a mechanic’s jumpsuit. The scarf she used to tie over her hair made Max think of a modern-day Rosie the Riveter. He shook his head in attempt to come to his senses. “Come on, Rob, this is a ridiculous idea.”

  His attorney got out the car. “I’m leaving for Atlanta in the morning. Let me know if you want me to talk to her.”

  “No.” Max tugged at the towels on the driver’s seat again. This was the craziest stunt he ever pulled. “I’ll do it myself tomorrow.”

  Chapter Two

  Angie walked her son into his second grade classroom. Her little boy was growing so fast. She swore he was in diapers just yesterday. “Love you, sweetie. I’ll see you later this afternoon.”

  “Bye, Mom.”

  She kissed Raymond before leaving the elementary school to head to the shop. She drove her used Chevy Cruze into the parking lot. As she circled to park in the back, she saw Max’s black Jaguar in front.

  Uh-oh. Her heart plunged into her stomach. She was so surprised to see Max yesterday that she forgot to tell her manager she left an oil stain in his car.

  Max was here because of the stain. She just knew he was inside, complaining to Mr. Stokes. He was going to cost her a letter of recommendation, and she only had herself to blame.

  Angie’s boots felt like they were made of cement. She dragged herself in through the employee’s entrance. Max’s voice carried from up the hallway. She heard Mr. Stokes reply. Then they laughed. What was so funny about her being unemployable?

  More laughter. Might as well face the music. If she apologized again to Max and asked for the car upholstery cleaning cost to be taken out of her paycheck, maybe she could leave the temp job on a good note. How long would it be before another auto shop hired her? She walked towards the front desk. “Morning.” She kept her greeting short, because the morning certainly wasn’t shaping up to be good.

  Max wore jeans, a long-sleeve shirt and a million dollar grin. “Angie, it’s good to see you today.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “It is?”

  Mr. Stokes faced her with a smile, too. “Max was telling me you went to high school together. How come you never said you went to school with a hometown hero?”

  What was so heroic about throwing a ball across a field? She audibly scoffed.

  “What was that?” Mr. Stokes asked.

  Angie cleared her throat. “We went to the same school. We graduated three years apart.”

  “I need to make coffee before we open for business. I’ll let you two catch up.” Her manager shook Max’s hand. “Great to see you, champ.”

  “You’ve got a fine shop and employees.”

  Angie found herself alone in the front of the shop with Max. He still had his plastered on grin. She wasn’t sure if he realized the show was over. “Why are you here?”

  “To talk to you.”

  “Is it about the oil stain I left on the driver’s seat?”

  He held up his hand. “Forget about it. I got it cleaned yesterday. I actually came to ask an important question.”

  “About?”

  “Let’s go for a drive.”

  She saw his Jaguar through the shop window. “I start my shift in twenty minutes.”

  “More than enough time. Come on. I’ll buy you a donut.”

  “No, th-”

  “We’re getting donuts.” He cupped his hand over his mouth to reach Mr. Stokes down the hall. “What’s your favorite, sir?”

  “Maple cream,” Mr. Stokes called out.

  “Be right back.” Max motioned for Angie to follow him outside.

  Did she wake up this morning in the Twilight Zone? What was going on? She got to the door. Max held it open for her. “I don’t understand what you’re doing, but I can’t afford to be late for work.”

  “You’ll understand in a minute.” He walked ahead to grab the passenger door of his car, opening it for her to get inside.

  * * *

  Max didn’t have a lot of time to explain his offer to Angie. He got in the convertible and sped out of the lot, making a sharp right turn.

  Angie gripped the passenger door handle. “This might be why your brake pads are wearing out sooner than later.”

  He kept the speed at a respectable thirty-five as he made his way to the donut shop farther up Main Street. “How’d you get into your line of work?”

  “My brother and I used to work on cars during the summer as a hobby.”

  Max got sad when she mentioned her brother. “I’m sorry about Detrick. I was in California when I found out he passed away.” He had heard the news at the last minute, and felt like a heel for not being able to make it to the funeral service.

  He glanced at Angie. Her lips trembled before they formed a tight line. “He died serving his country.”

  “He was a good guy.”

  She gave him a sideways stare. “Is this why you wanted me to go with you on a drive, to talk about my brother?”

  “This isn’t why I visited the shop this morning.” They arrived at the donut shop. He wanted to get the passenger door for Angie. She bolted out of the seat and went right inside. He followed. The place
smelled like coffee and deep-fried heaven.

  “I’ll have a cake donut with strawberry frosting.” She placed her order at the counter.

  “Make it two,” Max said to the cashier. “We’ll also take a box of twelve. Six maple cream, six glazed.”

  “Mr. Stokes probably could eat six maple cream donuts.”

  “Want me to get him a dozen?”

  She pulled napkins from the dispenser on the counter. “I want you to tell me why you came to the shop to talk to me today.”

  The cashier was lightning fast. She had the donuts all boxed up and ready to go. Max put a ten on the counter and carried the donuts outside. “How would you like to be my fiancée?”

  * * *

  Angie couldn’t believe Max just asked her to be his fiancée. If she bit into the cake donut with strawberry frosting, she was pretty sure she would’ve choked on it. “Excuse me?”

  Max slid into the driver’s seat, cool as a cucumber in designer denim. “I’m working to get a new state-of-the-art hospital built here in Harper. It was my dad’s dream. Before he died in Atlanta last year, he talked with two potential business partners. These guys like to cut deals with people who share similar lifestyles.”

  She held the box of donuts in her lap while he drove. “Aren’t you…like them?” She didn’t want to be crass and say rich, even though the word was precisely what she was thinking.

  “No. They’re older and traditional. Actually, they’re quirky. They like to network with other family men.”