Devotion - Billionaire Contemporary Romance Novel (4 page)

Phillip stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned his angular jaw towards the windows.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he confessed softly.  “That I’m simply giving up without my usual fight.”  He looked down, pretending to be preoccupied with his diamond-studded cuff links.

“No,” Isabel said cautiously, realizing he was revealing a rare glimpse behind his steely façade.  “No, not at all.  I want you to do whatever you feel is right for you.”

Their eyes locked.  She wanted him to know that she understood him.  Nothing more needed to be said.

“By the way,” Phillip said slowly, hinting at his desire to change the focus of their conversation. “Lucy told me you called in late because of Aidan.  How is he?”

“Sick.  Fever.  I apologize for being late.”

Phillip cut his hand through the air like no apology was needed.  “Our business dinner last night with Stu ran later than both you and I expected, and I imagine you were up well after that caring for Aidan.  Is it serious?”

“He’s four, Phillip.  And I’m his mother.  So every illness seems serious.”

Phillip nodded and allowed an unspoken moment of connection between them. They rarely discussed their personal lives.  As a matter of routine, he preferred to maintain a cold professional detachment as part of his British formality.  So whenever Phillip made a conscious effort to inquire about her son, he always disarmed her.

“Is he still interested in dinosaurs?”

“And airplanes. Right now, his dinosaurs and B52 bombers trade off eating one another.”

“Brilliant.” Phillip smirked, waiting to hear more. 

“Then, at the end of the day, they all make up and are fast friends by bed time so they can all sleep together under his pillow.”

Phillip’s eyes danced with delight. “As they should.”  Then, the light quickly faded and his tone grew serious. “Unfortunately, Isabel…I need you again tonight.”

“The Watercross gala?”

He nodded.  “I would like you to accompany me.” He gazed at her cautiously, as if he was preparing for her refusal.

Isabel grew silent.  She knew about tonight’s gala.  She knew that Phillip had always planned to attend—just not with her.  And now, she assumed there was a high probability that Phillip’s ex-business partner
and
Phillip’s ex-fiancée would both be there—together—although she knew better than to acknowledge it.

After a long pause, she nodded with a smile. “Don’t worry, Phillip. My mother can watch Aidan tonight. I will be there.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

It was a simple statement of appreciation, a subtle acknowledgement of the unity between them—a professional bond of loyalty and trust that had developed over the course of the past five years she had worked for him.  She did not refuse him because she felt eternally indebted to him.  He had been the one to hire her as his office copy clerk almost five years ago when she was only an inexperienced college dropout, pregnant and recently abandoned by Aidan’s father.  Without her job at Spears & Associates, Isabel shuddered to think how much different—
harder
—her life would be now, especially as a single working mother.

“Well, I suppose I should get back to my desk,” Isabel said, rising from her seat.  “You’ve just sold a second property to Zale.  We’re going to need to get working on that as soon as possible.”

“Zale said he’ll send over the letter of intent.  You can forward it on to Gary.”

“I’ll talk to him about preparing all the due diligence documents for The Peoria, and then I’ll have Giselle make copies so we can circulate them.”

“Giselle?” Phillip suddenly questioned her.

“Yes, the new intern.”

He scoffed. “Is that her name?  You mean like the ballet?”

“No, probably more like the supermodel.”

“Well, she is a bit of a tart, isn’t she?”

“Phillip…” Isabel paused before pushing back on him. “Try to be a bit easier on her.  She’s only a college student.”

“No, she’s a Spears employee.”

“You shouldn’t comment on her posture.”

“Did she complain?”

“I wouldn’t call it complaining.”

“Well, she
was
slouching.”

“She’s terrified of you, you know.”

Phillip snorted like he was truly amused.

“Just like I was,” Isabel added. “When I first started working here.”

Phillip gazed at her with interest. “Terrified, were you?  Of what?  Of me?”

“Of everyone.  And yes, of you.”

Phillip held her gaze longer than necessary.  “Well, you certainly grew out of that, didn’t you? And now I can barely get you to bring me my afternoon cup of tea.”

Isabel opened his office door. “Phillip, you are more than capable of getting your own tea.”

“
Touché
.  It’s true.  I am.”  He eyed her in the doorway. “Terrified, really?” he repeated with a mischievous glint in his eye.  Then, he suddenly laughed.  It was only the second time all morning that he allowed himself the luxury of an unguarded burst of emotion.

“Well, you needn’t have been, Isabel.  You were exceedingly bright and quick-witted, despite your age and your situation.”

“You mean despite being unmarried and pregnant,” she clarified.

“Despite
not
being enrolled in college, unlike our newest supermodel, Miss Giselle, who only seems to know how to walk in stilettos.” 

“
Shhhhh
,” Isabel hushed him, partly closing his office door.  “Please, Phillip.  I’m simply asking that you go a bit easier on her.”

Phillip sat down at his desk, crossed his hands, and swiveled in his chair.  His handsome face indulged in a playful smirk of sincerity. “For you, Isabel—I will do anything.”

His valiant gaze seized upon her, conveying what was often left unspoken between them—he appreciated her more than she knew, and certainly more than his own sense of business professionalism would ever allow him to openly betray.  But Isabel didn’t need him to express anything more to her.  He was her boss; he paid her a six-figure salary and treated her with respect because she did her job well.  That was enough for her.

She turned, preparing to leave, but he called after her, as if he wasn’t ready to let her go. “So you will start the ball rolling on The Peoria?”

“Yes, I’ll start on it right away.”

“Good.” He nodded with satisfaction. “Oh, one more thing…” His voice dropped just as she was on the brink of abandoning him. “You received roses this morning?”

Isabel stopped and glanced back at him.

“Yes.”

“From whom?” There was almost a hint of envy in his voice.

“Just an old friend,” she slowly said, feigning disinterest. 

“I see…” 

It was a lie, and Phillip’s searing eyes told her that he knew it.  A blunt chill of distrust cooled the warmth between them. 

“I shall pick you up tonight at eight o’clock sharp.”

“Yes, of course, Phillip.  I will be ready.”

Chapter Two

Isabel stood in front of her dressing mirror within her bedroom, struggling to decide what to wear for the gala.

Without knocking, her mother pushed in through the doorway. “
Estás preparada
?”  Mrs. Alvarez asked it with her sharp Castilian accent, as if she expected Isabel to stop dressing and come downstairs immediately. “Aidan is finished with his bath, and now, he is asking for you.” 

Isabel looked down at herself in her dressing mirror.  She was only wearing her beige slip and pantyhose.  “Mother, I still need a few more minutes.”

Mrs. Alvarez leaned into the doorway. “Are you certain you really have to go out again tonight?  You went out last night for work.  I think it is time that you tell this wealthy boss of yours that your son needs you more than he does.”

Isabel glanced up at her mother’s displeased expression in the mirror’s reflection.  It was the same glare that her mother gave her whenever she wanted Catholic guilt to weight on Isabel’s soul.  Isabel lowered her gaze and picked through her makeup bag, a preoccupation to avoid her mother’s black judgmental eyes.

“Mother, please don’t do this.  You know how demanding my job is—”

“I believe it is time that you start telling
him
how demanding your job as a mother is. ”

Isabel sighed and lowered her mascara wand onto her dressing table.  It was the same conversation they always had, but every year it grew more and more frequent. The more trust and responsibility Phillip gave her as his executive assistant, the more dinner meetings, fundraisers, and opening night galas she was expected to attend with him.  And every year, her son, Aidan, grew more interested in spending time with her rather than just her mother.  The pressure of juggling both her personal duties as a mother and her professional responsibilities as Phillip’s assistant was starting to weigh on her—weigh on all of them—and Isabel knew the only choice she had was to promise her mother that things would be better tomorrow in a desperate attempt to skate by another day before having to make good on her promise.

“It’s only one more night.  One night, Mother.  And after tonight, I’ll be home by six o’clock for the rest of the week.”

“It is not me who you need to promise.  It is your son. He knows that his mother should be here, and instead, she is choosing not to be here.”

“I’m not choosing anything.  I’m doing my job—a job that pays for us to live in this amazing house and in this affluent neighborhood, and send my son to a prestigious preschool, and allow his grandmother the chance to enjoy her retirement, spending her free time with him.  Without this job, you and I would still be cleaning houses.  Except we’d probably be dragging Aidan along with us because we wouldn’t be able to afford childcare
. That’s
what this job means to me—to us.”

A dose of her daughter’s quick temper silenced Veronica Alvarez.  Through the mirror’s reflection, Isabel watched her mother absorb the sobering realization that she was right—painfully right. She knew her mother’s inability to read and write English was a handicap that had kept her a house maid for the past thirty-five years.  And she knew her mother expected everything to be different for Isabel until a foolish college romance with an Italian foreign exchange student and an unexpected pregnancy changed that. 

Mrs. Alvarez eyed Isabel’s silk slip. “I hope you plan to wear something warm tonight.  The wind downtown will be strong.”

She closed the door.  Isabel felt empty and heartless.  What Isabel
hadn’t
said was that they would be forced to drag Aidan along with them while cleaning houses the same way her mother had dragged her around when she was young.  Isabel had refrained because she knew her mother was proud of what she had accomplished as a mother and as a widow in a foreign country. 
It’s so ironic how life repeats itself
, Isabel thought, reflecting on how perhaps it was an act of miraculous fate that she had ended up where she was now, or perhaps it was simply a repetition of history—her own stubborn determination to succeed at all costs for the sake of her son. Either way, Isabel knew exactly what she would
not
have without her job at Spears & Associates, and she knew the only person who had truly given her the opportunity to provide them all with a better life was her boss, Phillip Spears.

The doorbell rang.

His driver
.

Isabel looked at her reflection. She barely had finished her make-up or curled her hair.  She quickly finished her blush and lipstick before sweeping up her long brown hair into a French twist and rummaging out an ornamental gold-plated hair clip that she reserved for special occasions.  She heard voices downstairs.  Aidan’s bashful voice, talking to someone at the door.  Then, she heard her mother’s reprimanding tone.
Phillip’s driver and her mother
. 
Together without her
.  Isabel sighed.  She needed to get down there—and quick.  She threw open her closet; she was prepared to dress herself in her favorite black evening dress before realizing it was still at the cleaners.  Her mother spoke louder, as if she was summoning her daughter to descend the stairs with every word. 
Yes, stop talking, Mother…I’m coming…
She turned to her fitted ivory dress.  Could she wear ivory in October?  She couldn’t remember the fashion rules—she only knew that she had worn it only once on an impromptu date with her dentist. 
Yes, a moment of weakness
.  Dating the dentist didn’t last, but she still loved the dress.  And at a black-tie gala hosted inside a glitzy ballroom with chandelier lighting and sapphire blue table clothes, Isabel would stand out like a white dove passing through the night. 

She glanced at her bouquet of pink flowers.  She had avoided her mother’s inquiries regarding where she had gotten them, and instead, she had placed them in her bedroom where she could secretly admire them.  And yes, she still felt an unexpected sensation of curiosity and flattery every time she peered at their elegance. 
He might be there
…she thought, as she stepped into the ivory dress and towed it over her hips with a cautious exhale.  Its hem was shorter than her black cocktail dress.  Its neckline, less conservative.  Perhaps she
wanted
to send him a message.  She slipped on her champagne pink heels to finish off her ensemble. 
No earrings. 
Just the same simple diamond pendant necklace she always wore
.  The dress will speak for itself
.

Yes
…she confirmed with an approving nod at her reflection.  Tonight might be the night in which she decided whether or not this was truly the beginning.

She followed the sound of her mother’s raspy voice to the top of the staircase and peered down from the bannister.

“Phillip?” she called out with surprise. She saw him at the base of the stairs waiting for her in the foyer.  In the five years that she worked for Spears & Associates, it was always Phillip’s driver who rang the doorbell to retrieve her.  Now, Phillip gazed upwards, staring at her—and her dress—and she suddenly grew self-conscious about her choice. 
Should have stuck with black or charcoal grey,
she mentally scolded herself
. 
An ivory dress was likely too much of a departure from her usual attire, and too much of a departure for Phillip, who preferred consistency and dependability over the capricious whims of trendy fashion. 

As she started down the stairs, his gaze remained on her.  She suddenly considered how long he had been waiting for her.  As usual, he looked handsome and distinguished in his black tuxedo, especially in contrast to the informal decor of her house—a welcome mat with polar bears, worn tennis shoes and snow boots piled in a corner of the entryway, an assortment of puffy winter jackets and hats lining the coat rack.  Isabel had just shoveled the driveway after returning home late from the office, and the shovel was now dripping dirty salty water across the hardwood floor near Aidan’s random rock collection. 

She arrived at the base of the stairs and stared at Phillip with a mixture of embarrassment and discomfort.  He had never seen the inside of her house, and it felt like an awkward intrusion.  She preferred Phillip to believe that every aspect of her life was under control with the same professionalism that she asserted every day in front of him at the office, and she preferred not to grant him a voyeuristic glimpse into the constant disarray that was her household.

“Are we late?” She glanced up at her wall clock and noted the defensive tone in her own voice.  Phillip noted it, too, and his response turned hard and assertive.

“No, I simply felt that it was a necessity to drop off something for my friend.”

Phillip revealed a small gift from behind his back and presented it to Aidan, who was lurking in the fringes of the living room.  Isabel watched her son.  He had only met Phillip a handful of times when she had brought him to the office, and now, she wondered if Aidan remembered him.  But the wrapped gift was too much to resist.  Aidan swooped out from his hiding place, grabbed the gift from Phillip’s hands, and tore off the wrapping paper, revealing a battery-powered helicopter.

“Whoa, cool…” Aidan exclaimed, watching its headlights flash and its blades swoosh in circles, all with the touch of a red button. 

“Phillip, you shouldn’t have…” Isabel studied the helicopter.  She always arranged all of Phillip’s gifts—even for his own aging mother who has since passed away. 
This time
,
Phillip had taken the time to shop for the gift himself
.

“Yes, it was obligatory.  Your son has been kind enough to lend me his mother—two nights in a row.  Minimally, that sacrifice deserves a new helicopter.”

Suddenly, he presented a bow-tied box of chocolates to Isabel’s mother.  “It also deserves a gift for his grandmother as well.”

Mrs. Alvarez eyed the elegant box with skepticism, but deep down, Isabel knew her mother wanted to accept the truffles more than she wanted to maintain her icy glare.  How Phillip knew her mother loved Godiva chocolates, Isabel didn’t know; but she also wasn’t completely surprised.  He always performed his due diligence in order to strategize the best angle to negotiate a business deal with anyone—including Isabel’s own rigid mother.

“Thank you, Mr. Spears.” Mrs. Alvarez nodded politely.  “You will have my daughter home by midnight?”

“Mother—”

Mrs. Alvarez ignored her daughter and challenged Phillip with her brooding Spanish eyes.  He smirked and lowered his voice like a teenager escorting Isabel to the prom.  “Yes, of course.  Midnight.  I promise.”

Isabel rolled her eyes. 
Impossible
.

“Mommy, can I eat some toast before bedtime?” Aidan suddenly asked.

“Yes, of course,” she said, kneeling down to her son and reaching out to him for a hug. “Nica will help you make it.  I have to go now, but I’ll be back soon.”

Aidan flew his fancy helicopter into Isabel’s arms, allowing her to kiss his cheek.

“Goodbye, Mommy.  Can I wait up for you?” Mimicking the sound of sputtering blades, He cut his toy through the air. 

“No, honey…be a good boy and go to bed with Nica and don’t wait up for me.  I’ll see you in the morning.” 

The disappointment in his face was almost too much to bear, and for a fleeting imaginary moment, Isabel saw herself telling Phillip she couldn’t leave her son tonight—not again.  But instead, she pushed down her guilt and pushed out her whisper.  “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he replied, completing their special routine.  “Can I bring my helicopter to bed with me?”

“Yes, of course…say thank you to Phillip for bringing it.”

“Thank you Phillip for bring it,” he recited with bashful eyes before disappearing through the kitchen’s swinging door and out of sight.

Her mother watched Isabel suppress her swelling emotions.  “Estás segura que quieres dejarnos otra vez?”

Isabel
ignored her mother’s clandestine Spanish, but her dark eyes responded with confrontation. 
No, of course not
.  Whenever she was forced to leave Aidan behind for work, Isabel was always conflicted about her choice, and her mother knew it.  But this wasn’t about what Isabel wanted; it was about what was expected of her because Phillip needed her.

“Goodnight, Mother.  Don’t wait up, either.  I will be home late—and likely
after
midnight.”

She locked eyes with her mother until her mother conceded. 

“Buenas noches,” Mrs. Alvarez said curtly to Phillip while guarding the chocolates in her arms.

Isabel watched her mother disappear into the kitchen.  She would have preferred that he not witness how she struggled to sacrifice her personal life on a daily basis to make everything in her professional life seem flawlessly executed.  She whisked opened the side closet door and rummaged for her half-length natural mink coat.  It had been a gift from Phillip for occasions like this… an unspoken gesture of what he expected from her in terms of public presentation.  She was a symbol of his wealth and success.  Faux fur was not an option.

“Allow me…” Phillip suddenly offered, slipping behind her to assist with her coat.