Small-Town Billionaire

Nadia playfully shoved her friend. “Come on. You’ve got to get to the Sweet Stop for work, and I’ve gotta go place another order for beads at Scraps and Crafts.” She nudged Jasmine, still grinning, toward the door. “I’ll see you at the ranch tomorrow, Maribeth.”

“And you might see Ryan there, too,” Jasmine said.

Nadia shook her head and waved goodbye to Maribeth, and then the two girls headed out the door while Maribeth turned the volume up on the sound system piping out Christian music and allowed the lyrics to fill her head instead of the memory of the rich guy who dominated her past...and the reality of the one currently dominating her present.

* * *

Ryan shifted his hip in the passenger seat and prepared for more walking than he’d done in the past two weeks. Rehab was one thing; taking on the Claremont town square was something else entirely. But if he planned to get into full swing so he could get back to Chicago as soon as possible, he might as well get started.

Would a broken leg have kept his father away from the business this long? Probably not. Lawrence Brooks had only missed two days of work when Ryan and Dana’s mother passed away. He hadn’t even taken the time to mourn his wife; a broken leg and rehab certainly wouldn’t have slowed the business magnate down. Then again, Ryan hadn’t stopped running Brooks International. He’d held two conference calls today and seemingly kept to business as usual in spite of the distance.

Ryan grimaced. Why did he always compare himself to his father and find himself coming up short? Maybe because the media found the task so easy? They were quick to point out that the newest Brooks CEO merely followed his father’s proven path for success. The statement that’d been penned by a reporter at the Chicago Tribune had been picked up by practically every business magazine and summed up the public’s interpretation:

“Though the company continues to hold its own, Ryan Brooks has brought nothing original to the stellar real estate empire founded by his father, the late Lawrence Brooks.”

“Did you even hear what I said?” Dana asked, and Ryan realized he hadn’t heard anything she’d said since they’d passed the tiny city-limit sign.

“Sorry, had my mind on something else,” he said. “Repeat the question?”

She sighed. “It wasn’t a question. I said that I can’t believe we’ve never taken you to the square before.” Dana pulled into a parking spot behind a row of brick buildings. Judging from the store names hand painted above each door, this was the back side of one section of the square. “But usually you come and go so quickly that we don’t have time.”

“Yeah, getting thrown from a horse extends a visit. Go figure.” He wondered how big this town square was and how long it’d take them to deliver camp materials to Maribeth, his sister’s purpose for the impromptu outing.

Dana laughed. “I do want longer visits from you, but I’ll try to find another way to make that happen. And John warned you that Onyx might not be ready to ride.” She grabbed her purse and the craft supplies from the backseat. “Then again, telling you that you can’t do something is about the same as waving a red cape in front of a bull, isn’t it? You’ve never been able to back down from a challenge.”

“A challenge is merely another chance to prove something that someone else thought impossible simply hadn’t been done yet,” he said.

Dana had her hand on the car handle but stopped her exit. “You sound just like him, you know.”

Ryan didn’t have to ask whom she referred to. He could almost hear their father’s voice echoing each word as he’d spoken. “He gave us a lot of good advice.”

“And before he died, he realized that his priorities were out of whack,” she said. “I’ve told you before, he changed in those last days. I think if he could’ve talked to you one more time, he’d have probably pulled a one-eighty on a lot of that advice you’re still following.”

Ryan didn’t want to hear about Lawrence Brooks’s final days again when, according to Dana, he’d changed his mind about life, business and faith. Basically, he’d wished he’d done everything the opposite of the way he had. But Lawrence Brooks had single-handedly built a Fortune 500 company, and while Dana had stayed with their dad during his last days, Ryan had kept that company running. Still kept it running, in fact. So their father had done something right, and Ryan would keep that something going.

He opened his mouth to tell her that he suspected their father’s change of heart had to do with the fact that he was heavily medicated at the time, but she shook her head.

“I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t want to hear it. One day you’ll understand. But for now, forget I said anything.” She climbed out of the car and hurried around to Ryan’s side to help him exit, but he’d already opened the door, slowly maneuvered his straight leg out and then pushed his way up to the crutches.

“I’ve got it,” he said, “but thanks.”

Her mouth slid to the side, and she stepped a little closer, blue eyes that mirrored his own examining him as he balanced on the crutches. “I’ve missed you, Ryan. And there’s so much more I want to show you, talk to you about, help you to see.”

“We’ve got the whole afternoon. I promised not to work any more today, remember?” He knew she was ready to start preaching to him again, but he didn’t want an intense conversation about life and faith. Not today. Maybe not ever.

Her eyes dimmed and her smile slipped a little. “Yeah, I remember.”

Ryan knew she wanted him to stay here at least until his rehab ended in four weeks. But Lawrence Brooks wouldn’t have stayed away from his business this long, and Ryan wouldn’t, either. He wanted to make a name for himself the way his father had instead of piggybacking on his father’s success, and he couldn’t make a name for himself staying in Claremont. “I want to make a difference,” he said, more to himself than to Dana.

Her gasp should’ve warned him that the hug would follow. She wrapped both arms around him. “Oh, Ryan, that’s what I’ve been praying for, and that’s what Daddy figured out in the end. There’s more to life than money and things. More to life than business.”

She’d misunderstood, and Ryan had to set the record straight.

“No, Dana, I mean that I want to make a difference in business. Let my name be known. Achieve success for myself, instead of because I’m my father’s son.” He took a deep breath, let it out. “I should get back to Chicago. I can finish my rehab therapy there.”

She released him from the hug and pressed a hand to her forehead, spread her fingers and massaged her temples. Then she slid her hand to her throat and said, “Thanks to technology, anything you can do in Chicago can be done here. Didn’t you say that today’s board meeting ran even smoother with the teleconferencing system?”

“It did,” he said, “but...”

An elderly gentleman stepped out of the rear entrance of a store labeled Tiny Tots Treasure Box carrying a bulging white trash bag. He nodded toward them as he dropped it into a nearby Dumpster and then grinned when he recognized Ryan’s sister. “Dana! Good to see you. Are you coming to the toy store?”

She blinked a couple of times, dropped her hand from her throat and appeared to gain her composure before answering, “Not today, Mr. Feazell. But I’ll visit you in a few weeks to get Abi’s birthday present.”

“You do that,” he said. “And I’ll help you pick out something nice.” He then turned his attention to Ryan. “I heard you were in town again, Mr. Brooks. I met you at the wedding, of course, but you met a lot of folks that day. I’ve been praying for you while you recover. I reckon you know Dana put you on the prayer list at church. Looks like you’re doing better,” he said with another grin. “Prayers are working.”

“I guess they are,” Ryan said, and hoped this wouldn’t start a religious discussion. Dana was already all geared up for preaching, but Ryan wasn’t in the mood for a sermon.

Thankfully, the older man simply nodded his agreement and then returned to the marked door. “I’ll see you at church Sunday, Dana,” he said, and then to Ryan, “We’d love to see you there, too.”

Ryan smiled but didn’t commit to anything, then turned to his sister to see her smirking. “What?” he asked.

“Just thinking how cool it is to watch God work,” she said.

“Aren’t we supposed to be delivering some camp materials?” he asked.

She opened her mouth to say something but then snapped it shut, which told Ryan that he probably didn’t want to hear whatever she’d been about to say. Then she turned, pointed toward the alley leading to the square and said, “Come on, I’ll show you the way to Maribeth’s store.”

And just like that, his attention turned from their difference of opinion over their father’s change of heart to the intriguing woman who’d been hovering in his thoughts for days—equally unsettling. Ryan couldn’t put his finger on the reason Maribeth Walton had such an effect on him. Yes, she was beautiful, but he was often around beautiful women and had dated some of the most striking ladies in the world. Maybe her coolness toward him, her apparent apathy toward his status, piqued his interest.

But for whatever reason, Ryan had a serious attraction toward the woman they were going to meet, the kind of magnetism he’d only experienced once before, when Nannette securely captured his heart and then shattered it while the whole world read about the escapade in the tabloids.

Ryan refused to let that happen again. He’d maintain emotional distance when he and Dana saw Maribeth in a few minutes, and soon, he’d secure permanent distance between himself and the intriguing woman by going back to Chicago. Out of sight, out of mind, and all of that.

He needed to get back to his world, begin working on how to make his name stand out in the Brooks International empire and control the urge to lose his wits over another woman.

“Well, what do you think?” Dana asked when they exited the alley to find themselves in the midst of the box of buildings that comprised the Claremont town square.

Ryan scanned the unusual surroundings. “It’s nice,” he said. He had expected the square to take him back in time, but he hadn’t anticipated how far, as though the entire town had been plucked from the 1950s and dropped in the middle of north Alabama. Very Mayberry.

A three-tiered fountain bordered by two mature oak trees centered the square, with children surrounding its edge tossing pennies into the sparkling water. Park benches dotted the grassy area around the fountain and held several elderly couples feeding squawking geese from bags of bread.

Elaborate eaves and fabric awnings decorated brick storefronts, and the majority of the shops had sidewalk displays to appeal to passing shoppers. There was a candy store, Mr. Feazell’s toy store, a craft store, a barber shop complete with an old-fashioned striped pole, a five-and-dime, an art gallery, a bookstore, a sporting goods store and a shop titled Consigning Women. And that happened to be the place where his sister stopped, opened the door and waited for him to go inside.

This was where Maribeth worked?

A cool breeze met them upon entering, as did the scent of apples and cinnamon, reminding Ryan of the woman who carried the same sweet scent.

Music filled the air. He didn’t recognize the song, but the lyrics quickly told him it was a Christian tune. Then a clear soprano joined in from the back of the store as they made their way through the circular clothing displays.

Ryan took care not to knock anything down with his crutches while also studying the distinctive layout of the place. The clothes weren’t merely hung on racks; they were arranged in ready-to-be-worn ensembles. Tops were paired with skirts and jewelry and shoes, everything a woman would need to match perfectly from head to toe.

While Dana paused to look at a red pantsuit, Ryan took a moment to examine the other original attributes of every outfit. Each one had a ribbon hanging nearby with an attached photo. Flipping over a photograph, Ryan saw a picture of Jennifer Aniston with a caption: “In February 2012, Jennifer Aniston chose a black-and-white chevron-print dress with leather accents for her movie’s premiere. Paired with a black leather clutch, gold jewelry and black pointed-toe heels, her ensemble can be yours for $42.50.”

“This is like Jennifer Aniston’s outfit,” he said to Dana.

His sister grinned. “And this one is like Kristen Stewart’s. And that one is like Gwyneth Paltrow’s.” She pointed to a hot pink dress and strappy heels.

Ryan scanned the store and realized that there was only a small area noted as being for separates in the very back. All other space in the shop was filled with complete outfits. And beside the cash register, a huge wall collage featured countless photos of celebrities wearing clothes that were apparently available in this store.

“Maribeth has talent, doesn’t she? To take an idea—for all women to be able to dress like celebrities—and then create a store to implement that idea?” Dana grinned at Ryan.

“She owns this place?” he asked, awestruck with the exceptional concept—a consignment store that recreated red-carpet looks.

Dana nodded as she moved to a bright yellow sundress and read the ribbon-embellished note. “Scarlett Johansson. I think I remember seeing her wear this.” She scanned the pictures on the celebrity wall. “Yes, there she is. Do you think John would like this on me?” She checked the tag. “The size is right.”

“Ingenious,” Ryan said, marveling at the brilliant idea.

His sister held the dress against herself and viewed herself in a nearby elongated mirror. “I know. It’s like having a personal stylist, but without the effort, or the price tag. Maribeth does all of the work, and it’s a win-win. The folks bringing in items for consignment are happy because they sell more, and the ones buying the outfits are happy, too, because they can dress like the stars for a price that fits their budget. And her place is so popular that women drive all the way from Birmingham to get the look of a star for a price they can afford.” She draped the yellow dress over her arm and grabbed the accompanying red jewelry. “Pretty incredible idea, don’t you think?”

Ryan nodded and wondered if the woman realized the potential of her idea. She was sitting on a gold mine.

“We should probably go tell her we’re here,” Dana said, pointing toward Maribeth, who swayed as she held coral jewelry against a royal blue dress. She’d tacked a photo to the wall nearby and checked the dress against the picture, a photograph from the newest issue of People magazine that featured Pippa Middleton wearing a similar dress and jewels.

Maribeth wore a sleeveless black dress with a thin red belt and sky-high red heels. An assembly of gold bangles traveled up and down her delicate arms as she attached the necklace to the blue dress and then reached for the earrings. Her voice blended with the music, this song about blessings, and when Dana tapped her shoulder, she jumped, let out a high-pitched yelp and tossed one of the earrings in the air.

“Oh, my,” she said, gasping. Red-tipped fingers fluttered beneath her slender throat. “I didn’t hear you come in.” She laughed, leaned down and scooped up the discarded earring, then seemed to notice Dana wasn’t alone. “Oh, hello.”

Ryan didn’t miss the change in her tone, as though she weren’t quite happy with his arrival in her store. Then again, this wasn’t a store for guys. “Hello,” Ryan said. He’d decided to maintain his distance from the woman, but her fascinating concept captivated him. He wanted to know more. “You put all of these outfits together, based on what celebrities wear?”

She’d seemed cool at first, but her face lit up with the question. “And based on what customers turn in for consignment, of course. Do you...” She paused. “Well, what do you think of the store?”

“It’s brilliant,” he said honestly. He saw Dana’s broad grin from the corner of his eye, but he didn’t care. It was brilliant, and the lady deserved to know. This was the type of thing that stood out—a great idea, innovative concept. This was the kind of thing that put your name on the books. “Have you thought about taking the idea bigger, beyond a single store? This is the only one so far, I take it?”

“Yes, it is,” she said, the coolness returning to her tone, “and no, I don’t want to go bigger.” Then she dismissed the conversation with a pivot toward Dana. “That yellow dress will look gorgeous on you. Did you see the shoes that go with it? They’re a size six. Isn’t that your size?”

“It is,” Dana said, “and I didn’t see the shoes. I’ll want them, too, I’m sure. But I don’t know how much wear I’ll get out of the dress.” She placed a hand on her stomach. “Should be showing in the next month or so, I think.”

Maribeth placed her hands together beneath her chin. “Well, you can wear it up until then, and it’ll be perfect next summer after the baby’s born.”

Dana grinned. “I like the way you think. So, where are those shoes?”

“They’re on top of the clothing rack,” Maribeth said, stepping around Ryan to retrieve the red pumps and then showing them to Dana while still keeping her back to him. “What do you think?”

“I’ll take them,” Dana said. “But my main reason for coming to the store today wasn’t to shop. I got those craft supplies for you from the church and thought I’d drop them off so you’d have them for tomorrow.” She handed the plastic bag of supplies to Maribeth.

“You could’ve waited and given them to me in the morning.” Maribeth continued to look directly at Dana as she spoke, as though Ryan wasn’t even in the store. What was it about this woman and ignoring him?

Ryan continued to scan the store, the layout, the concept. Brilliant, his mind continued to whisper. His skin bristled with excitement, with the endless possibilities. This...was exactly what he needed.

Dana shrugged. “Ryan has only left the ranch to go to rehab, and I thought he’d like to see the square since he hasn’t been here before.” She shifted the dress to her other arm and ran her fingers across the fabric.

“Okay.” Maribeth looked skeptical, and Ryan also thought Dana seemed to be stretching her reasoning to the limit. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she brought him to this specific store to watch her friend give him the cold shoulder again. Or maybe because she’d detected the unwanted attraction that he felt toward Maribeth.

From the gleam in Dana’s eyes, he’d hit the mark.

That attraction could get Ryan in trouble. The situation, the feeling he got when he was around her, the fact that she didn’t seem to care whether he noticed her or not...were all so similar to the way his relationship had started with Nannette.

But Ryan was going to have to control the attraction this time, because he couldn’t ignore a concept that might very well provide his means of putting his own stamp on Brooks International. A consignment store that specialized in making the less fortunate feel and look rich. This was the kind of thing that made a difference and exactly what Ryan had been looking for.

Maribeth and Dana chatted about the upcoming camp activities, and Ryan noticed the dark-haired beauty didn’t even glance his way as she spoke.

“The kids are going to love this,” she said, squaring her shoulders so that she clearly blocked Ryan from the conversation. He couldn’t recall whether he’d ever been so thoroughly ignored.

Dana continued speaking, but lifted a brow and fought a grin. “I think so, too.”

Ryan was used to people hanging on his every word, which was probably why her disregard hit him like a slap in the face. And made him even more determined. He’d had enough. One way or another, the lady was going to pay attention to him. He didn’t pull off running an international business by not knowing how to get people to pay attention. He simply had to say something she couldn’t ignore. Undoubtedly she didn’t like the idea of growing her business, which baffled Ryan. Why wouldn’t anyone want to take what they had and make it better? Bigger? More profitable? He’d find out, but first he had to get her to speak—period. And he’d already established her primary interest, so he capitalized on that knowledge.

“So, Maribeth, whose outfit are you wearing today?” he asked, causing the two women to stop talking and look his way.

Unable to ignore a question directed specifically to her, she turned, lifted an arched brow and asked, “Whose outfit?”

For a moment, he forgot his own question. When she looked at him directly, Ryan found himself lost in the appreciation of eyes that looked like melted chocolate, dark hair pulled up on the sides yet still reaching her waist and a mouth that made him wonder whether her lips were as soft as they appeared.

“Ryan?” Dana prompted.

Thankfully, his brain kicked back into play. “Which celebrity are you wearing today? That is what you do here, isn’t it? Match the items you receive to celebrity ensembles?”

An enthusiasm claimed her exquisite face, the passion for her idea shining through as she answered, “Yes, it is.” She smoothed a hand down the side of her dress. “This one is modeled after an outfit Reese Witherspoon wore on Letterman.”

“I like it,” Dana said.

So her wall of resistance cracked a little when he brought up her business. Good to know. And talking about business also kept his mind focused on his goal, instead of on the attraction that he’d have to control. “I like it, too,” he added, and realized that she became even more appealing when her cheeks blushed bright pink.

Dana stared at the two of them with a triumphant smile, which only reinforced Ryan’s stance to control this bizarre attraction. “I’ll take the outfit,” she finally said, and the two women moved to the cash register so Maribeth could ring up the sale.

Ryan took his time moving toward the checkout area. He wanted to see as many of the ensembles as possible along the way to verify that they were all as interesting and unique as the ones he’d already viewed. They were, and he also noticed that they weren’t merely modeled after the younger starlets. Maribeth also had clothing designed to model Meryl Streep, Diane Keaton and Susan Sarandon. Her store had no age restriction. Ingenious.

Ryan got to the checkout area at the same time that Dana said, “I just wish Ryan would stay here until his rehab is complete. He told me a little while ago that he was thinking about leaving and finishing up his therapy in Chicago.”

Maribeth’s eyes lit up, and she turned her attention to Ryan as he took the last couple of steps to the counter. “Well, I’m sure you’d be more comfortable at your own place,” she said, sliding the dress, shoes and jewelry into a garment bag.

If Ryan didn’t know better, he’d say the woman was inwardly celebrating his departure. But what she didn’t realize was that Ryan thought he’d found a way to make his mark on Brooks International, and it involved her unique idea. More than that, he knew that he couldn’t convince her to partner with Brooks International from Chicago.

“I’ve changed my mind about heading back home. I’m going to stick around for a while and finish up my initial treatments in Claremont.”

“Really?” Dana beamed. “Oh, Ryan, that makes me so happy!”

He grinned, finding it interesting that Maribeth’s pretty mouth fell open into a silent “Oh” with his announcement. And if he’d looked back before exiting with Dana, he was sure he’d have seen an accompanying “No.”

Good thing he liked a challenge.

Chapter Two

At just past 7:00 a.m., Maribeth turned onto the driveway beneath the wooden sign identifying the Cutter Fish Camp and Dude Ranch. In the spring, when Brother Henry announced the need for volunteers with the church camps held at the ranch over the summer, Maribeth had jumped at the chance to not only help Dana but also work with a group of kids in a Christian environment.

However, she hadn’t counted on Ryan Brooks being part of the equation. And she still had three weeks to go in her commitment to volunteer the entire month of June. Based on what he’d said last night, he’d be here for all three of those weeks plus another one. Four more weeks of therapy, which meant four more weeks of Maribeth being around a guy who reminded her of her worst mistake.