The Billionaire Scoop: A BWWM Romance (Secrets & Deception Book 1) (3 page)

“Annie!”

“It’s true, though.”

Maribel could only giggle.

Despite her wild, curly hair, Annie generally looked demure, giving off the impression of being a lady, but anyone around her long enough got to hear her filthy mouth.

Maribel almost changed her mind, suddenly intimidated by the sheer number of men.

Come on, girl. Fortune favors the bold. Be brave. Be strong.

Courage and confidence were essential for what she wanted to do, so she might as well tackle it in every aspect of her life.

There was no place to be a shrinking violet.

She took a breath and charged up to the sliver of space at the bar, right next to a guy she’d been trying to keep her eyes off of.

All the while she’d been giving herself her pep talk, her eyes took him in from his immaculately-styled dark hair to the expensive-looking suit hugging his broad shoulders and back. Or was it a tux? He certainly looked like he could be a castaway from a wedding party instead of a convention attendee.

Either way, he was damned sexy, and no matter how much Maribel tried to pretend she was going to ignore him and just have a drink, everything in her kept reaching for him.

She might not have time for a man while sorting out her career, but she could have idle chats with them, couldn’t she? After all, it was practically a job requirement.

She reminded herself she had no driving to worry about, so she could drink as much or little as she wanted.

The man made space for her, and his striking green eyes briefly met hers, a slight casual smile on his chiseled face that seemed to freeze as he took her in.

She wondered at the swirl of emotions there.

As put-together as the man looked on the outside, he seemed to be a wreck.

“Lemon drop, please,“ she said to the bartender once she got his attention.

She had noticed the handsome stranger was nursing something hard, neat. Probably Scotch. She was never really sure—she only got into ’girly drinks’ as Annie called them.

“Rough night, huh?“ she found herself saying.

His green eyes found hers again and he let out a little huff of air.

“You said it. Although I feel a hell of a lot better now than an hour ago.”

Maribel’s instincts pricked.

“What happened an hour ago?” she couldn’t help asking, trying to sound as casual as possible.

He stared at her a long time before answering, and just when she thought she was actually going to melt from the heat of his green gaze, he said, “I almost married the wrong woman.”

A number of sensations hit Maribel at once, but her mouth got ahead of her head, and before she started analyzing her own feelings, she said, “How on earth did
that
happen?”

He knocked back the rest of his drink.

“Long story,” he said, indicating another drink to the bartender.

When one door closes, another opens,
her mother’s voice sang in her head.

“I am here for it,” Maribel said, almost unaware when her own drink was placed in front of her.

“Thanks,” the man said to the bartender on her behalf, embarrassing her a little since she never forgot her manners. But even then she couldn’t correct it—everything in her had zoned in on the gorgeous stranger; she needed to know what had gone down, even if just to hear how someone else’s day had ended up worse than hers. 

She felt terrible for him, of course, but she was practically salivating as she waited for the sordid details. 

She blamed her mother for whetting her appetite for scandal—all those soaps she had on in the background throughout the day. The dirty details of relationships of the pretty and rich.

Now she craved it—every hint of the unsavory perked her up.

“Actually, now that I think of it, it’s not that long a story,” he said, happily accepting his next drink.

Maribel smiled at him, blinking her eyes.

“I’m waiting patiently,” she nudged.

He gave her a warm smile, a smile that unexpectedly almost liquefied her insides, a smile that sent a raging sensation through her core.

A battle began inside her.

J
im was so lost
in his thoughts, it took him a while to realize he was no longer alone in his bubble.

He’d been slightly aware of the brief gazes of several women during his time at the bar, but he figured he looked so unapproachable, that no one had the courage to get closer just yet.

But suddenly his senses were assaulted by a heavenly scent, and the perfume of the woman who squeezed next to him made him turn toward the source of it.

His heart skipped a beat as he took the lovely woman in, grateful for the distraction.

He had been beating himself up—not regretting refusing to go through with the wedding, but dreading the domino effect of his actions, and chastising himself for the problems to come as a result of his abandonment. 

In his heart, he knew he made the right decision, but his head wasn’t letting him go without a vicious fight.

You’re gonna lose everything,
a nasty little voice chided him.
Your dad’s going to disown you. The company will take a hit all because of your selfishness. Everyone will hate you for wasting their time, their money...

And then there the beautiful stranger was, smiling at him and inviting him to unload.

The somewhat shy-looking brown beauty managed to immediately dissolve the last of his guilt by merely existing.

Suddenly, his thoughts were no longer on the wedding or any of the attending parties; his brain-space was filled by the lovely young woman gazing at him with warm brown eyes.

He felt forgiven of everything in that moment, even if she had no idea what her openness absolved him of.

Well, time to tell her—see if she’s still smiling then.

“I was supposed to get married tonight but took off, leaving my intended bride at the altar.”

He felt the woman tense up and couldn’t look at her as her face transformed, no doubt with shock. Possibly even horror.

He took a swig of his drink, then shook his head, still avoiding her eyes.

“It’s a girl’s worst nightmare, right? Getting jilted? The thing is, I’m not sure if she’ll be madder about the public humiliation, or more hurt about losing me—although I doubt it’s the latter.”

He could still see the woman out of the corner of his eyes, and her vanished smile made him regret his words; he couldn’t bear being thought of as a jerk by the first genuinely friendly face he’d registered all evening.

“Okay, let me start over before you get too disgusted with me: the wedding sort of represented a merger—her family with mine; a symbolic thing between my family and hers in preparation for a move toward a conglomerate. Neither of us were particularly emotionally invested in the whole thing, but our union was a big deal to our parents. I thought I could do it—ignore the fact that I had no real feelings for her for the sake of the company, the family, but…” He shook his head. “Triple C will have to do without my part in this case.”

He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but she seemed to relax a bit, looking relieved.

“Triple C?” she queried neutrally.

“Craig & Craig Capital.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry to hear it didn’t work out, but it sounds like you did the right thing for your peace of mind. Sure, it’s terribly embarrassing for her—I’d die if something like that happened to me—but I’m glad you got out of it while it was still relatively early. Things could have ended up a whole lot worse later.”

He smiled at her, examining her face.

He found no sign of hidden judgment; she wasn’t just being polite.

His smile grew.

“Kind of you to say. What’s your name, beautiful stranger?”

He could tell she blushed—it showed even against her brown skin and she could barely look at him properly anymore.

It pleased him to see his effect on her.

“I’m Maribel,” she said, keeping her eyes on her drink. “Yours?”

“Jim,” he said, watching her more intently.

He saw the moment it all clicked.

Normally, he wouldn’t be so loose about who he was—especially to pretty females who then seemed to see him as nothing but a potential ticket to some sort of payout—but he couldn’t help it. The liquor had loosened his tongue and Maribel’s warm demeanor made him want to connect with her and get more of what she was giving him—her attention, her approval.

He could have given her a fake name, but part of him hoped that if she had a hint who he was, maybe she’d stay longer.

He almost shook his head at himself.

He’d wanted so badly to keep those lovely, open eyes of hers on him that he actually name-dropped for the first time in hopes of scoring more points and gaining her interest.

He almost regretted it immediately, though—how lame was that?

Then again, one of the most eligible bachelors had just jilted a socialite—Maribel would have heard about him sooner or later, and he was glad to get his side out before the media smeared him.

“Jim Craig,” she almost whispered. “Before two days ago, that name would have meant nothing but the name of a great-looking guy I met at some bar drowning his sorrows.”

“Before two days ago?” he asked, trying to ignore the warmth rushing through him at her casual reference to him being good-looking.

“I recently moved here from Alabama,” she said. “Where I’m from, you’re not exactly known, sorry to say. Back there, if you’re not Brad Pitt…”

She shrugged.

He noticed her eyes had come alive even more than before, her atoms seemingly wild as her body pulsed and vibrated with new energy.

Was it all she’d see him as now? Jim Craig—heir to a billion-dollar fortune? Had he screwed up letting her know? Would she turn into yet another gold-digger after all?

Somehow, the thought didn’t bother him as much this time.

Beyond the nudge in his pants, he wanted to get to know more about this woman.

But damn it, before he had a chance to glimpse the real her, he ruined it in his excitement.

“I probably should have stayed anon,” he said regretfully.

“No, I appreciate you being upfront with me. I, um…” she hesitated, and he wondered what all was going through her mind.

“What’s going to happen now that you’ve rejected the union?” she asked softly.

He shrugged. “Dad will probably disown me. Even if he doesn’t go that far, he might just cut me off from this company. He’ll have to be careful about appearances—he built up such a focus on family. As for Lucy, I suppose she’ll just move on to the next eligible billionaire.”

“How did you guys meet?”

He didn’t blame her now. How could she not be curious about every part of the story?

He rarely opened up to anyone besides his sister and his best friend Scott, but here was a chance to unload on a stranger.

What was the worst she could do?

Even if she repeated anything to her own friends, gossip and speculation came with the territory, and as usual, it was just one person’s word against another.

His family had money and power, and one of the best PR teams money could buy. Anything that came out about them, true or not, positive or negative, could be spun in their favor.

He turned fully toward the young beauty with the sparkling brown eyes and began to unload.

Maribel couldn’t believe her luck; she had a career-making scoop right at her fingertips.

She could barely contain her excitement—what a perfect story!

It was as if Christmas had come early.

What were the chances she’d end up meeting one of the most eligible billionaires and that he’d be willing to tell her his tale?

She could become a well-known name just like that.

Oh, god—she was obligated to tell him her status, wasn’t she?

He had no idea she was a journalist—shouldn’t she warn him?

Of course not. What the hell are you thinking? He’d clam up for sure,
she reminded herself.
You’re not thinking like a reporter at all.

Still, she felt obligated to give him a heads up.

She wasn’t sure she would have had this conflict otherwise, but she felt a deep connection to him—an empathy that wanted him to feel free to unload his pain—and she didn’t want to feel like she was lying to him.

Either way, he had already started talking, so she held on to his every word.

Every detail about his fiancée and her family and his own family she etched into her brain, wishing she could pull out a pen and take notes.

But she was young and had a pretty good memory.

By the time he was done, she knew she could easily have an article signed, sealed, and delivered by the next day.

But as she gazed into the face of the unburdened man before her, she wasn’t sure she could do it.

Why not?
an inner voice asked.
Men like him had everything handed to them. He’s just some entitled corporate asshole.

Maribel couldn’t disagree—she knew that no matter what happened, he’d be fine—upper-crust white men like him always were.

No matter the scandal, communities were always willing to open their arms to them.

She didn’t have the same kind of safety net.

What good would it do to hold everything to herself and ignore the gigantic opportunity to launch her career and make a life for herself just to spare some privileged white boy’s feelings?

Men like him never considered or cared about hers.

He could wipe away his crocodile tears with hundred-dollar bills.

So what if his sorrow seemed real—who cared if he felt betrayed?

You do
, another voice said
.

She ignored the voice but it came again when Jim smiled at her, green eyes twinkling, and warmth filled her again.

You care.

She had a hard time focusing on what he said next and had to force herself to rely on her ears and her brain retaining the information instead of fumbling with her phone to try to discreetly start recording.

If he noticed her pull out her phone, he could interpret it as disinterest—an intrusion—and she could lose him.

He’d probably apologize for disturbing her and turn away, maybe even find someone else to talk to.

Nope—she was going to be the one to hear it all—she had to be.

Stay focused, girl—remember every detail.

“It won’t be long before someone tracks me here, and I still haven’t figured out where to go,” his voice filtered in. “Of course, I could just hop in a cab and drive around, I guess, till I figure it out…”

“You could stay with me,” she blurted out.

“I...excuse me?”

“You said you needed somewhere to hide out for a bit, and I happen to have a place where you can stay for a while.”

She smiled wide—temptingly, she hoped.

She could get so much more out of him if she got him alone for a few more hours, down to the tiniest detail.

His brows furrowed though his face still looked pleasant. Amused, even.

“But you don’t know me from Adam.”

“There aren’t many people who are great at deception. Everything you’ve said to me rings true, and maybe I’m gullible, but I feel bad for you. Sure, I don’t really know you besides your name and who you are in a general sense, but my gut also says you’re not a serial killer, so I don’t mind letting you in my home for a bit—you’re not done unloading and I’m happy to be your ear until you get it all out. I really don’t mind—it’ll be nice to have company.”

Besides, I need time to let what you’ve told me so far sink in, discreetly take some notes, and prepare for the rest.

She could get him to relax, get her recorder set up, and have all the information she needed to have the story that could launch her career.

This was it—this was the thing that would set her up, possibly for life.

Fate brought her to this moment, and just like everyone thought, her entry into the journalism world would be easy as pie.

Oh my god—I can’t wait to tell Annie about this.

He was still frowning at her.

“Man, you really are a newbie here. Maybe I should be worried about you, so willingly letting a man you don’t know into your home. Maybe I should be concerned for myself—what plans do you have for me, Miss…?”

“Gibson.”

He offered her his hand, and for the first time, Maribel had second thoughts about letting this very handsome, very sexy man into her home as warmth flooded her again and her core pulsed to life.

Her cheeks felt hot, and her small hand liked the feel of his larger one enclosing it a bit too much.

What was she thinking?

It was so unbecoming of a lady like her to take a stranger home.

Um, it’s for the job,
she reminded herself.
Don’t get distracted. You’re the spider; you’re leading him to your web.

But somehow, the thought did not make her feel at ease.

She didn’t feel like the spider with all the power after all.