Hollywood Heir (Westerly Billionaire #4)(2)

Sage shook her head, sending her ponytail flying back and forth. “Everyone comes into our lives for a reason. Maybe this is a sign that my radar is evolving. Lonely is lonely, no matter how much or how little a person has. He needs me.”

“You realize if you start taking on financially challenged clients, they won’t be able to pay you. When you chose independence from your parents, you chose all the bills that came along with that.”

“I can take on other clients while I work with him. This will be pro bono. If I do it right, he’ll just think of me as one of his friends.”

“You brought me here for my opinion. It’s no. Emphatically—no.”

“I can’t accept that—”

Bella took out her phone and snapped a photo.

“What are you doing?” Sage asked.

Bella replaced her phone in her purse. “If this guy hurts you, at least now I have a photo to show the police.”

The man rose, crushed his coffee cup in his hand, and threw it in the trash. Sage stood. “He saw you take the picture of him.”

“Good.”

“No, not good. What if he doesn’t come back because of it?” Sage looked from her friend to the retreating man. Great, now we embarrassed him. “I’ll call you later. I have to speak to him.”

“Sage,” Bella said.

Sage paused a few feet away. This wasn’t the first nor would it probably be the last time she went against Bella’s advice, but she was still glad she’d included her. Sage was used to following her instincts when it came to people. Those instincts were what led her to reach out to complete strangers on a regular basis. She was beyond caring what others thought of her self-designed career choice. Bella’s comment about seeing sadness only in the wealthy stung a little, but Sage had been born into money. That didn’t mean she didn’t care when others were in pain. She worked substantial philanthropy into every happiness plan she designed. When it came to helping people on an individual level, however, she was drawn to the ones she knew how to heal.

My gift? Bella had once accused her of compulsively helping people find happiness because she hadn’t yet found it herself. Which might explain why, despite how many people I’ve helped, Bella is my only friend. She thinks I’m so afraid of being left again that I put an expiration date on how long I let people get close to me. She may be right. I care about people deeply, but then I always walk away.

None of that changed the fact that she felt compelled to help one angry-looking man find his smile again.

“Be careful,” Bella warned.

“Always.”

“Call me later, and don’t you dare go anywhere alone with him.”

“I won’t,” Sage promised as she rushed out of the coffee shop and onto the busy sidewalk. The man’s long stride had taken him a good distance. She darted between people to catch up with him. When she finally did, she said, “Excuse me.”

He kept walking, not sparing her a glance.

Sage wasn’t easily deterred. She doubled her pace to keep up with him. “I’m sorry about my friend.”

He stopped then, and she came to a skidding halt beside him. His eyes burned with anger. “Who are you?”

She held out her hand, then lowered it when he didn’t shake it. “Sage Revere.”

He leaned closer and growled, “Whatever you want, I’m not interested.”

Rather than intimidate her, his warning had her cheeks flushing and her heart racing. All pity for him melted away beneath a slam of attraction. “Do you have plants?” she blurted out.

He scanned her face. “What?”

“Plants.” Of all her introductions, this ranked as one of her least polished. She took out one of her business cards and handed it to him. “I’m a plant psychologist. Botanist extraordinaire.”

He took the card and inspected it before asking, “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No joke. I can give you references if you’d like.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t have any plants. The shrub over there is looking a little sad, though—perhaps you should counsel it.” He tried to hand the card back to her, but she refused to accept it.

He wasn’t the first to start off thinking she was crazy. Admittedly, it was an odd career choice, but it was also a nonthreatening cover that allowed her into the homes and lives of people who needed her. She reminded herself the delivery method didn’t matter as much as the message. “It’s a scientific fact that plants are good for people. If you’re not happy for some reason, buy one. And then, if you have any questions about how to care for it, call me.”

He pocketed her card and leaned closer, so close she thought he might kiss her. His breath caressed her lips. “Stay the hell away from me.”

He turned on his heel and walked away.

Sage watched him go, knowing it wouldn’t be the last time she saw him. That wasn’t the way this worked.

Bella appeared at her side. “Let him go, Sage. I’ll give your card to my neighbor. She has bearberry bushes that I’m sure you can convince her are depressed.”



Eric Westerly entered his studio apartment and slammed the door behind him. He strode to the bathroom to inspect himself in the mirror. It pleased him that his features still reflected how he felt: hideous, damaged.