Hollywood Heir (Westerly Billionaire #4)(4)

“Like that surprise you’re making for me.”

“You’re going to fucking love it.”

Eric laughed. Reggie was one of a kind—tall and pale with dark hair and the stare of a creepy extra in a movie. His official title was house electrician for the sprawling estate Eric owned in London, but Reggie stepped in and helped whenever he saw the need. He made sure everyone was paid and that Eric’s estate ran smoothly. He was also one of the few people Eric trusted.

Eric shook Reggie’s hand. “Thanks for covering for me.”

Reggie nodded, then wagged a finger at Eric’s marred face. “Hey, can you get laid like that?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t put much thought into it.” An image of the plant lady from the coffee shop came back to him with disconcerting clarity. She’d been curved in all the right lush places. Absolutely batshit crazy, but fuckable at the same time. Not that it mattered, since he had no intention of seeing her again. He was reasonably certain neither she nor her friend had recognized him, but they’d already taken a photo of him, and he wasn’t about to give them a reason to share it.

“That’s the first thing I would have asked myself. I guess you could get creative, though. Lights off. No hands. I’ll experiment with Alice and get back to you with some tips.”

“Not necessary.”

“No trouble. We’ve been together long enough we need to shake things up now and then. She might even get a kick out of putting makeup on me.”

“’Bye, Reggie.”

“I’ll be back next week to check on you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Can I use your jet?”

“No.”

Reggie walked to the door and shrugged. “How about the yacht?”

“No.”

“Great. I’ll only tell you if I dent something.” With that, Reggie slipped out the door and closed it behind him.

Alone again, Eric returned to the mirror. Slowly, using a special cream and expertise that came from years of experience in theater, he peeled off the scar.

I really am a fucking mess.

Who am I to judge a woman for thinking she can talk to vegetation?

Her words came back to him: “It’s a scientific fact that plants are good for people.” He took her card out of his pocket and placed it on the carpet of his bedroom, focusing on it as he did push-ups.

Without fame, money, or the face my fans call perfect, could I get laid?

God, I want to fuck someone who doesn’t know me—who wants nothing from me.

For that kind of sex, I could tolerate a little crazy.





Chapter Two

He’ll be here. No one comes to the same coffee shop every day, then stops just because someone takes a photo of them.

I did also chase him down and tell him I talk to plants, but most people find that intriguing rather than off-putting.

Sage sipped her coffee and tried to occupy herself by reading the news on her phone. It was never good, but she wanted to stay informed even if it always left her wishing she could do more. It also made her miss her grandmother.

Sixteen years ago, her death had shaken Sage and contributed to the ugliness of her parents’ divorce. Her father, English by birth, had relocated to the United States and started his own import business. He’d done well and married an American model. As a child, Sage had traveled extensively—and considered home wherever her nannies were. She had fond memories of her grandmother, although so many of them had faded over time.

The death of her grandmother had brought her family to a whole new level of wealth, and Sage’s mother had decided to leave with her fair share of it. Still reeling from the loss of her grandmother, Sage had spiraled out of control while her parents used her as a bargaining chip. They both decided she wasn’t worth it, compromised, and sent her off to boarding school.

At first, Sage had been convinced one of her parents would wake up and come for her. Family had to be about more than social status and luxuries. People didn’t just give up and walk away from the ones they loved. Her parents didn’t come, though, and Sage withdrew from her classmates and teachers. She’d felt lost and adrift, alone and scared. What could possibly matter when she knew she didn’t?

She might have turned to drugs or alcohol, as many there did, if not for a garden renovation project her dorm mother convinced her to participate in. It was there that she’d discovered how connected every living organism was and how good contributing felt.

Bella’s British parents were still married at the time, but both were so busy they had no time for her. Like Sage, she had lived everywhere and nowhere.

Unlike Sage, Bella had been dragged into the garden project as community service for repeatedly skipping classes. She and Sage hit it off from the first day they met and had been each other’s family since.

Bella pushed Sage to speak up for herself. Sage showed Bella all the reasons she still had to be happy. Sage’s secondary career had taken root during those early school days. A new student, Kim Bradley, had arrived at the school and quickly landed in disciplinary probation for acting out in class. Sage and Bella were asked to befriend the girl. Her parents had died in a boating accident, and her uncle thought the school would be the best place for her. Helping Kim heal and fit in inspired Sage to reach out to another troubled student, then another. And her gift—or curse, as Bella jokingly called it at times—blossomed.