A Year With the Millionaire Next Door Page 5

  “Did you know I finished in the top five percent of my glass at graduate school?” she asked.

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. Camilla and Joe finished first.”

  “I’m pretty sure a potential employer would call that splitting hairs.”

  Says the man who worked for his family. “I got hired by the top consulting firm in Manhattan.”

  “See?”

  “Yep. Lasted a whole five months before I blew it.”

  The room wobbled when she set her glass down. She sat up and pressed her hands to her knees to still the movement, shivering slightly as her body mourned losing Linus’s body heat. This wasn’t the kind of confession that deserved coziness.

  “I’d been doing great,” she told him. “Working a ton—seventy, seventy-five hours a week—but that wasn’t new. I’ve always had to work more than others to keep ahead. Plus, I was working on this project that had huge potential. The kind of project that can turn an employee into a rock star.”

  She remembered how the night before, she and her father had talked about the project’s make-or-break potential.

  You need to make them notice you, her father had said.

  “Then one morning I was on my way to work, and I froze. Right in the middle of Fifty-Second Street. Couldn’t move forward or backward.”

  As she expected, when she looked over her shoulder, Linus wore a frown. “Eventually, I managed to cross the street, but that’s as far as I got. Standing on the sidewalk, shaking. I couldn’t talk. I could barely breathe.”

  The moment was etched in her memory forever. The way the building seemed to stretch and grow larger. The rush of white noise in her ears. And the fear. The paralyzing fear that if she went inside, it would kill her.

  “A coworker took me to the emergency room. Severe burnout is what the doctor said. I just knew that I couldn’t go back to work. I wanted to, but I didn’t want to. If that makes sense.”

  “What did you do then?”

  “What could I do?” she replied. “Went home and told my parents I’d messed up.”

  “I wouldn’t say you—”

  Stella was on too much of a confession roll to hear him. “Do you have any idea how humiliating that was? There were Camilla and Joe racking up the accolades, and here I was, pulling up the rear. Again. So, I ran away. Couldn’t face the idea of running into someone I knew and having to explain. Figured England was far enough to get my act together.”

  She flung herself back against the sofa, back to the security of Linus’s proximity. “Now you know why I need to do the best job possible while I’m here. I need to show them that what happened in New York was an anomaly. To prove I’m not a disappointment.” Her voice cracked on the last part. Damn alcohol.

  A reassuring hand cupped her shoulder. Stella found herself pulled toward Linus in a semihug. She rested her head on his shoulder and drank in the comfort. “I don’t think you’re a disappointment,” he said.

  “No offense, but how would you know?”

  “Your story. You may have crashed, but you picked yourself up and came to England. If you ask me, that shows resilience. Disappointments aren’t resilient.”

  Stella pulled back far enough to look into his face. What she saw was a friendly smile. No mocking or sign of insincerity. “That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she said.

  “Then you’re clearly not receiving enough compliments.”

  Stella met his smile.

  Suddenly, the room grew small. Reduced to the sofa and the air around them. A lazy heat started low in Stella’s belly, a longing for closeness. She wanted to feel a man’s hands on her skin. To feel desirable. She looked into Linus’s eyes and saw a beautiful gray sky. Scrambling to her knees, she let herself fall into them. Deeper. Closer. Until her lips met his...

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “STELLA...” HE BREATHED her name into her mouth like it was a prayer. She felt his fingers sliding along her cheeks until they cradled her face. He combed back her hair and pulled away.

  “Stella,” he repeated. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

  He was rejecting her.

  “Well, isn’t this humiliating,” she said, backing away. “I...”

  Linus backed away, too. The tenderness she imagined in his gaze had morphed into embarrassment. “I should go,” he said.

  “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

  She kept her attention glued to the coffee table while Linus got up and limped toward the front door. “I’m sorry,” he said when he reached the landing. “But I don’t think either of us wants to do something we’ll regret.”

  Not trusting herself to speak, Stella only thanked God for that. She’d rambled on about her failings and made a fool out of herself, but at least she hadn’t done something she’d regret.

  Linus closed his front door and collapsed against it. That might have been one of most difficult things he had ever done. Give yourself a pat on the back, old boy. You behaved like a gentleman. Eighteen months ago, if a beautiful woman threw herself in his arms, he would have kissed the daylights out of her. Lips that soft and delicious? How could he resist?

  But he did resist. Had to. It was clear his neighbor needed a friend far more than she needed sex.

  I need to prove I’m not a disappointment.

  How could the woman with whom he’d spent the evening disappoint anyone? It was inconceivable. She was funny. Beautiful. Smart.

  His rejection probably hadn’t helped her self-esteem issues. Still, he’d done the right thing. Maybe that meant he was evolving into a better person. Because for once he cared more about helping a woman than seducing her.

  Now if he could only stop thinking about how amazing Stella’s lips tasted, he’d be fine.

  When she woke up, Stella decided the best recourse was to pretend the night before never happened. Easier said than done, since she woke with a pounding headache, but she pretended that was the result of stress.

  “A believable excuse, right?” she asked Toffee. The cat had spent the night at the foot of Stella’s bed, her imported silk cat bed apparently not comfortable enough.

  Toffee yawned and rolled on her side.

  Didn’t matter what the cat thought. Burying the humiliating experience was far preferable to recalling what an ass she’d made of herself. Between telling Linus about New York and kissing him...

  Yeah, pretending it never happened was definitely the best idea.

  Instead, she spent the morning taking inventory. One of her assigned tasks was to catalog Dame Agnes’s personal belongings. After six decades of performing, the woman had amassed large collections of memorabilia, objets d’art, jewelry and other items. According to Peter, some pieces were bequeathed to friends and colleagues, but the majority were to be inventoried and then either sold or donated as part of a historical collection. Stella’s job was to track down as many of the known items as possible, especially the theater souvenirs, many of which were quite rare and valuable. The task was surprisingly interesting, and burying herself in a spreadsheet was exactly what she needed. If she were focused on hunting objects, she wouldn’t have time to think about the feel of Linus’s hands on her skin. Or how comfortable and at ease he’d made her feel.

  “Have you seen a gold-and-enamel cigarette holder, Mrs. Churchill?” she asked later that morning.

  The housekeeper looked up from the desk she was polishing. “A gold-and-enamel what?”

  “Cigarette holder. It says on this spreadsheet that Dame Agnes had one from the show Suite Envy, but it doesn’t seem to be in the media room with the rest of the items.”

  “And you think I know where it is?”

  “I was hoping,” Stella replied.

  The older woman swatted the desk with her dust cloth. “It could be anywhere. Mrs. Moreland was alway
s taking those things out to show people. Once I found a crown in the bathroom.”

  Great. Another item unaccounted for. Circling the item on the spreadsheet, Stella made a mental note to ask Peter when the list was last updated. So far three of the first six items were a bust.

  “Thanks anyway,” she said to Mrs. Churchill. “Oh, and thank you for watching Toffee while I went for my run yesterday. Sorry I was late getting back.”

  “That reminds me,” Mrs. Churchill replied. “Did you take one of the wine bottles from the rack? Not that it’s any of my business, but I noticed you were one short.”

  There went her plan to erase last night. “Mr. Collier came over after our run for dinner and he opened the bottle,” Stella said as she pretended to study the spreadsheet. The eleven-by-seventeen paper made a perfect screen to hide her warm cheeks. “He said he’d buy a replacement bottle.”

  Meaning she would see him again. If anything could be worse than last night’s rejection, it would be seeing pity in Linus’s eyes.

  The sad thing was that she didn’t know what she’d been thinking. She had zero interest in a relationship, casual or otherwise. But then she’d lost herself in those blue-gray eyes, and kissing him felt...natural.

  Was there some kind of self-help group for people who self-sabotaged? Screwing up was a common thread lately. Mess up her job. Nearly mess up another job. Get drunk and kiss the only friend she had in London.

  You’d think she didn’t want to be successful.

  Oblivious to her mental turmoil, Mrs. Churchill shrugged. “Don’t matter to me either way. Most likely he bought the bottle in the first place. He was always bringing one when Mrs. Moreland invited him for dinner.”

  Stella recalled how capable Linus had looked opening the wine. The conversation had opened a floodgate of images that made her stomach turn over. She kept her gaze on the spreadsheet. “So he said.”

  Mrs. Churchill continued. “Mrs. Moreland loved to have him over, that’s for sure. Said he prettied up the place. Can’t disagree. Man wears a suit well. Her highness liked him, too.” She nodded at Toffee, who was on her perch looking out the terrace door.

  “He’s a hard man not to like,” Stella replied. Suddenly she needed some air. Excusing herself, she stepped onto the terrace, taking a moment to scratch Toffee’s chin on the way by. “I’ll be right back, Toff. Then I’ll give you your daily brushing.”

  Whereas yesterday’s weather had been perfect, today’s was merely nice. A collection of cumulus clouds made the sunshine inconsistent. A good thing, actually, since the air was humid. Wishing it was long enough to pull into a ponytail, Stella brushed the hair from her face.

  There was music coming from next door. At first, she tried to ignore the noise, but then a woman’s laugh rang out.

  Stella’s stomach sank. Social sabbatical, her ass. He could have simply told her he wasn’t interested. To further rub salt in her wound, they sounded like they were seated by his bedroom. What had he done? Left her and immediately called someone else?

  Intending to move inside, where she could ignore the distraction, Stella stepped toward the terrace door. That’s when the woman laughed again.

  What was she like? The woman Linus preferred. He probably liked them blonde and sophisticated. Or did he prefer brunette and sophisticated? Assuming he preferred this woman at all. She could be a business associate.

  Because women giggled uproariously all the time during business meetings.

  She needed to check this woman out. Not because she was jealous, but to satisfy her curiosity. If she stood in the corner of the terrace, near Linus’s clump of trees, she could peer through the branches without being seen.

  You’re going to regret this, the voice in her head said. He’s going to be in the paisley robe looking sexy as ever and you’re going to regret spying. Just go inside.

  She looked through the branches.

  No robe, thank goodness. Linus had his back to her, but she could see he wore a pale blue shirt, the cotton stretched across his broad shoulders a taunting reminder of what it felt like be nestled beside him. The woman, meanwhile, wasn’t at all what Stella expected. She was short, with large breasts and a thick waist, and she wore a giant, soppy smile.

  This was a foolish idea. Stella started to back away.

  “Oh, hello!”

  Damn.

  At the woman’s greeting, Linus swiveled in his seat. Stella stepped out of the shadows. “Hello,” she greeted.

  “Can we help you with something?” the woman asked.

  “I... I didn’t realize you had company,” Stella replied. “I had a question for Linus, but it can wait. Sorry to interrupt.”

  “Nonsense, you’re not interrupting anything. Is she, Linus?”

  “Um, no. Not at all.” Stella couldn’t decide if the awkwardness in his reply was real or her imagination. Same went for the color in his cheeks. “What was it you wanted to ask?”

  Good question. What did she want to ask? “The wine. Do you remember the brand? Mrs. Churchill said she’d buy a replacement bottle.”

  “Mrs. Churchill doesn’t have to go out of her way. I told you I would replace it.”

  “She doesn’t mind. It’s on her way home. And this way you won’t have to make a special trip over here.”

  “I don’t mind.” He stood up to face her. That’s when Stella saw the reason for the woman’s soppy smile. A baby sat cradled in the crook of Linus’s arm.

  “Oh,” he replied, noting her open mouth, “this is my nephew. I’m babysitting while his parents attend parents’ day at my niece’s summer camp.”

  “He’s adorable,” Stella replied. Even from a distance she could see the baby’s plump cheeks.

  “He is a handsome fellow, isn’t he? Takes after his uncle, don’t you, Noel?”

  Still in her chair, the woman cleared her throat. “As usual, it looks like I’m going to have to introduce myself. I’m Susan Collier.”

  The baby sister Linus mentioned. She was jealous of Linus’s sister. Curious, she corrected. And she was relieved because she hadn’t interrupted a date. “Stella Russo,” she replied.

  “The pet sitter.”

  “Estate manager,” Linus corrected. “She’s also helping to catalog Dame Agnes’s property.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “It is,” Stella replied. Susan Collier had a very sharp stare to go with her sharp tongue that made Stella wonder if the pet-sitter comment had been meant as an insult or a test.

  “Ignore her,” Linus said. “She came out of the womb sarcastic.”

  “Only way I could survive in this family. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Stella. Would you care to join us?”

  “Thank you, but I have to get to back to work. I really only wanted to check on Linus’s ankle.”

  “Ankle? I thought you wanted to ask about wine,” Susan said.

  “Yes. That, too. Wine and his ankle. How is it, Linus?”

  “Better. I taped it this morning for stability. With any luck, I’ll be running in a few weeks.”

  “I hope so. I’d feel terrible if being my running guide caused you problems.”

  “No problems. It was my own stupidity.”

  They could have been apologizing for the kiss. In fact, part of Stella wondered if, behind the words, they were. Certainly felt awkward enough.

  The rustling of leaves filled the silence between them. Stella was about to end the moment with a goodbye, but Noel beat her to the punch. He squirmed and made tiny noises of discomfort.

  “I think someone is getting hungry. Rosalind packed a bottle of mother’s milk. Hand him over, Linus, and I’ll feed him. You two can...” She gestured between them. “Talk.”

  Easier said than done. The words Stella needed wouldn’t form. They sat there in a giant tangle, clogging her throat.

 
“Look, about last night,” Linus started. “If I gave you the wrong impression...”

  “It was the wine,” she immediately shot back. “I had way too much and acted stupidly. I didn’t mean to put you in such an awkward position.”

  “It’s not that I don’t find you attractive...” She held up a hand. No need for false compliments.

  “You made it clear you’re not looking for anything beyond friendship right now, and truthfully neither am I. In fact, until I get my career back on track, relationships are totally on the back burner. And a one-night stand would have made things super awkward, so I appreciate you being a gentleman.”

  “Gentleman is a bit generous.” He smiled as he said it, but she spied a cloud crossing his features. It wasn’t the first time he’d drawn back when she complimented his kindness. Why?

  “I hope what happened won’t ruin our friendship,” she told him.

  “I’m all right if you are,” he replied.

  “Right as rain.” She was relieved. That’s why her insides felt buoyant. She could use a friend, and she enjoyed Linus’s company. He was the first person she’d met in a long time who made her feel comfortable.

  Or do you mean special?

  No, she meant comfortable. Special was what she’d felt when she had looked in his eyes last night. And she was not going to repeat that mistake. She would just have to tuck special as far back in her brain as possible.

  “So that’s the pet sitter,” Susan said, once Stella disappeared behind her wall. “She’s pretty.”

  Linus hadn’t moved since Stella said goodbye. “Estate manager, and yes, she is pretty. But no, I’m not interested in her.”

  “Did I say anything?”

  His sister didn’t have to. After twenty-eight years together, Linus knew her thoughts. “We’re friends, nothing more.”

  “If you say so.” She sat down, baby Noel draped over her shoulder.

  “I know that voice,” Linus replied.

  “What are you talking about?”