Southern Charmed Billionaire (21 page)

“But don’t you ever want to be in love?”
 

“I…I don’t want to hurt. And whenever you love, you hurt.”
 

“That makes sense. I get it. But what if a businessman who lost everything kept the same philosophy? Heck, what if I had the same philosophy? I would have never come down to South Carolina, and then look, I would have never been able to help you. There’s a chain reaction when we open up.”
 

“Are you always this inspirational?”
 

“Thanks, but what I’m saying is: if you hold off on loving someone else, then you miss out on the gift of their love, and the gift you will create in the world as ripple effect. Think about how much beauty the snow is creating for our enjoyment. If the water stayed in the cloud, and never chose to freeze and fall and transform, we’d miss out on so much beauty.”
 

“Are you saying I’m beautiful?” he teased, lightening the mood.
 

“Yes, and maybe I’m put in your life to remind you to love again.”
 

“It does get lonely being in the public eye. That’s why utmost secrecy is the best. I’m a man. I’m an adventurous man. I have ways to fulfill my needs.”
 

Fire shot over my body like a layer of fire ants. His need. Oh I
knew
what he was talking about; yes I did indeed. That party…  
 

Not wanting to dampen my panties any further, and in an attempt to control my heart rate, I quickly added, “I guess everybody has a tragedy. I guess we must all have some kind of vice, something to overcome. Otherwise life would be very boring, I suppose.”
 

“Grey.”
 

“That’s what I keep telling myself, at least.” I took a greater sip of my drink and he refreshed my flute.
 

The southern air was cool and crisp against my skin, delivering the freshest and most pure inspiration as the snow stopped falling. We enjoyed the pristine silence of nature for a bit. Even though we didn’t speak, I never stopped thinking about him and his vulnerability. Experiencing his openness made him seem more approachable and less king-like, god-like, demi-god-like. There were so many layers to him. I really felt as if I understood him and what he was saying in more ways than he knew.
 

“The scars that tie together,” came out of my mouth in deep observation.
 

“What did you say? That's beautiful.”
 

“Scars that tie together?”
 

“Yeah! Mind if I uh, write that down on my notes? It’s very beautiful. You’re very wise, you know?”
 

“Well, I read a lot of books growing up and listened to a lot of podcasts on personal success. If you knew where I came from, I’m sure you’d want to do the same.”
 

My stomach twisted and turned. Would I ever tell him everything?
Everything
? That my father was in prison?
 

Silly girl, why!? He’s your pretend baby daddy.
 

Right….
 

Chapter Twenty-One
 

Kate
 

L
ight jazz played in the speakers overhead
,
beautifully pairing
with the cozy crackle of the fireplace to create a warm and inviting ambience.
Each guest
clutched
his or her
beverage
of
choice in their
palm as
they enjoyed
the
grand room
, which
buzzed
with excitement
,
social games
,
and lively conversation.
 

Since I was
theoretically
pregnant
,
I
held a cup of
piping
hot
tea
, smiling through the silent envy I held for
every woman who passed holding a glass of wine.
 

The ornate gold platter that once beautifully displayed several
dozen of my cupcakes
was almost empty
. I love
d
seeing everybody's faces as they tasted them.
Several
were kind enough to
compliment
me.
 

I had met Atticus's
aunt
,
u
ncle, twin cousins
,
their boyfriends
,
and his oldest cousin
, who was a doctor
.
She was married to another doctor; they
did philanthropy work in Africa.
 

Our interactions were light, young, and jovial, much like the atmosphere. Everyone held kind expressions except Brittany, who appeared as bored as a valley girl at a local state representative meeting.
She
became more lively and opinionate
d by her third or fourth glass of white wine.
 

Thankfully
,
she did not
exercise
her immaturity on me.
 

After participating in a game of charades, which had me laughing harder than I could remember in the longest time, one of the twins called out,
“Play us a song, Atticus!”
 

“Yes!”
The other one agreed. Atticus complied, much to their delight.
Hearing
Atticus
croon
old songs by the fire
gave me feelings of nostalgia. I felt like a character in a Hallmark movie, surrounded by genuine love and family; a real
family
that you smile
with
, laugh with,
share with
.
My heart warmed with gratitude; I was grateful
for a moment of normalcy.
 

The next morning
,
we caravanned to church in the fanciest string of cars I’d ever seen.
I hadn't
attended
church in a very long time
; those rare times I had
, it was Catholic and I was bored.
But
we attended
the local First Baptist
C
hurch
, not Mass,
and the
Branch’s were treated like dignitaries.
They were so highly esteemed by the members; you
c
ould have thought the
president himself was in attendance.
 

We had
reserved
seating
and
the entire family
filled
two rows.
 

Easter
service
was beautiful
and I actually took great comfort in the Pastor’s message: that no matter what happens in our lives on Friday, when all seem
s
dark and lost, a Sunday of rebirth and renewal
was just ahead of us
. Easter reminded us of brighter days and of hope in all things.
 

I nodded
, and my spirit fully
received
those words. Something fluttered inside
as I listened;
I realized it was hope
, a feeling I hadn’t experienced in a long time
.
 

Everything
,
t
his entourage,
the
Branch family, Atticus, my new finances, my new business plan
—
it
all gave me
hope. Things were
certainly
looking up. I said a little prayer up to the big guy upstairs while I sat in my pew. And I said hi to my mom.
 

Mom, if this is you as my little personal angel up there, thank you. I love you.
 

Chapter Twenty-Two
 

Kate
 

A
majestic
snow
white cloth covered the
equally regal
dining room table
, which was
large enough to
seat dozens
. As we took our seats for dinner,
I couldn’t help but notice the
splendor
of fine dining
Branch
style.
 

Dinner was an exquisite
Southern
feast
of
turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans
, sweet potatoes, cornbread, fresh baked rolls, and dressing
.
T
his was the good ole’ south
,
baby! Billionaire style.
 

“Are you ready for the big announcement?”
Atticus
whispered in my ear. I bit my lip. I really wasn’t. All I wanted was
for
him to whisper something naughty
, t
o
remain
as we were. But, I had a job
to do.
 

My hand shook and he reached
for it
to steady it under the table
, a small display of intimacy to calm my nerves.
 

Clink. Clink. Clink.
 

Atticus tapped his wine glass with a gold spoon
and
interrupt
ed
the festivities to grab
the family’s
attention.
Everyone
appeared to be
in great spirits,
clasping the stems of their
generous glasses of wine and
nursing
full bell
ie
s.
I’m sure several saved room for dessert, which was right around the corner.
 

“Family, we have an announcement to make.”
 

The lively chatter quieted down,
allowing us to hear more of the
light piano and trumpets
crooning
in the background,
an element signature
of
Branch style.
 

“God, please don’t tell me you’re getting married
,
” Brittany the
B
itch called out.
 

My throat tightened
.
I felt like I
would
have an anxiety attack.
 

Atticus tightened his firm
grip on my hand and moved to my thigh,
providing a more
possessive, boyfriend
-like
comfort and I drank it in like water on a parched day.
 

He took a deep breath and I scanned the sea of curious faces around the table.
Th
ose warm, caring faces
belonged to
a
family that had taken the time to
get to
know me, ask me questions, and
demonstrate that,
for the most part
, they
were surprisingly down to earth.
Well, everyone except
Brittany. But
even the most vibrant tree had
sour apples.
I
t was part of life.
 

“Kate and I
are…
expecting
our first child
.” He drew his breath, letting the words
drip out slowly.
“
We are four months along.”
 

Oh.
M
y.
G
od.
 

The news was out.
 

 I
could have
faint
ed,
but the way
everyone at
table exploded into celebratory
whoops and cheers
,
scooting their
chairs back to
get up and make their
way to hug our necks
with elation
put me
a
little at ease.
 

“Well that explains the cellulite I saw.”
The Bitch
muttered. “I thought she was just fat.” She
snickered
to a cousin
,
who
just stared at
her with obvious disappointment.
 

“Really
,
Brittany?”
S
he rolled her eyes
, then turned to give me a sweet look, as if to say,
Don’t let her get to you
.
 

“Yes! You won’t believe what I found….” I heard her
speak
but my
attention span allowed the words to trail off as my
eyes and attention
returned to all of the neck hugs and warm reception we received
from
our announcement.
 

“Do you know what it is, Atticus?” Granddaddy Atticu
s’s
face shone bright like a star.
 

“Yes Granddaddy
,
I do
,” my child
’s father beamed. “
I am pleased tell you that it's a boy.”