Billionaire's Flight (Standalone Book) (Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) Read online

  BILLIONAIRE’S FLIGHT

  By Alexa Davis

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 Alexa Davis

  From the Author

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  Chapter One

  Austin

  "That was just what I needed," declared the gorgeous blonde as she rolled off of me onto her back. She flung an arm over her head and exhaled as she wrapped the sheet around her tanned torso and sunk into the pillows next to me. She laughed softly as she turned and said, "You doing okay, tiger?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine." I smiled. "It was just what I needed, too."

  "Good," she said as she lightly brushed my arm with her fingers before squeezing my hand and looking sideways. "Need another round?"

  "Nah, I'm good," I said, returning the squeeze. "You?"

  "I'm good." She smiled as she let go, threw off the sheet, and rolled over. She sat up and stretched, giving me a view of her full breasts before standing up and walking to the bathroom.

  "That ass of yours ought to be illegal," I called after her.

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah," she laughed. "Tell it to the judge, tiger!"

  I chuckled as I swung my legs over the edge of the thick mattress and bent over to retrieve my boxers. I hated these things with a passion. Actually, I hated all clothing; it felt confining and restricting, but my mother had raised me to be a proper gentleman and so I adhered to social norms and wore what felt least restricting. I sighed as I looked at the deep blue silk shorts in my hand and then pulled them on before getting up and calling room service.

  "I can't stay, you know," the blonde called from the bathroom. "I've got a date later and I'm going to have to eat something with him."

  "Did I say that I was ordering anything for you, smart ass?" I muttered in an irritated tone before calling back, "Okay, no problem."

  "I heard that," she said as she exited the bathroom.

  "Heard what?" I feigned innocence.

  "I heard you mutter under your breath out here." She smiled as she walked toward me. She was wearing a dress that wound its way around her curves like a dangerous mountain road and I shot her an approving smile as I flipped through the television channels looking for the Yankees game. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek before saying, "You know, Austin, you really need to find a woman who will do more than agree to a quick roll in the hay with you."

  "But I like how we operate, Anna," I told her as I popped open a beer and took a long drink from the icy cold bottle. "It works for both of us, doesn't it?"

  "It does indeed," she nodded as she dropped to her knees and bent to look under the bed for her shoes. Once she'd located the black stilettos, she pulled them out and sat down on the edge of the four-poster bed. "But you do realize that even I am going to find a guy to settle down with one of these days and then all of our fun times will be over, don't you?"

  "Aww, you'd stop just 'cause you got married?" I pouted as I clicked through the channels, finally finding the game. I silently cheered when I saw the Yankees were leading the Mets.

  "Austin," Anna said as she walked around the half-circle of the couch I was sitting on and dropped down next to me. She took the remote and beer and set them on the coffee table before taking both of my hands in her beautifully manicured own. She looked at me seriously as she said, "You are such a good guy. You've done so many amazing things and you have so much to offer the right woman, but you and I both know I'm not her. I'm perfectly happy being Ms. Right Now, but you need to find someone. You need a woman who will love you and treat you like the great guy you are."

  "Aww shucks, Anna." I smiled a little as I looked down at the thick gray carpeting beneath our feet and made a note to tell the head of housekeeping that it needed to be spot cleaned.

  "You're looking at the spot on that carpet making mental notes, aren't you?" she laughed, shaking her head.

  "What? No!" I denied as I shook my head and looked up at her.

  "Austin Marks," she said as she reached up and gently stroked my cheek. "I wish I was the woman who could set your heart on fire, but I'm not. I do, however, believe she's out there somewhere. You're just going to have to look a little closer and try a little harder."

  "Now you're just blowing sunshine up my ass, cupcake," I grinned. She let go of my hands and punched me on the shoulder.

  "You are absolutely infuriating!" she laughed. "Now, give me money for a cab."

  "Wait, I'm financing your transportation to your date?" I said with mock resentment.

  "Indeed you are, sweetheart." She smiled. "You know how this works. We both get what we need and then you give me cab fare!"

  "You are such a scam artist, Anna." I shook my head sadly as I reached into my pants and grabbed some cash. "Here, tip the guy well for a change, will you?"

  "Who me?" she protested. "I always tip well! You're the cheapskate!"

  She bent down and took the cash out of my hand as she kissed my cheek. I looked up at her, wishing I could feel something more than just friendship and sexual attraction for her, then smiled as she pranced to the door and turned to blow me a kiss before she exited.

  "See you next time, Austin!" she chirped.

  "Yeah, yeah, next time." I waved at her with a friendly grin.

  As I sat on the couch waiting for my room service order, I thought about what she's said and about how all of the wealth I'd inherited and amassed wasn't making it any easier to meet women or make real connections with them. I wanted something more, but I had no idea how to get it, so I contented myself with occasional connections with a few women friends like Anna who understood my situation. It wasn't ideal, but for now, it was the best I could do.

  Chapter Two

  Emily

  "Mom, guess what?" I practically shouted into the phone as I stood off to the side of the terminal. "I got it!"

  "Got what, baby?" she asked in a distracted tone. I knew she was at work, but I had to tell her my good news.

  "I got the promotion!" I said excitedly. "I'm going to be working in first class now!"

  "That's great, baby," my mother replied enthusiastically. "When did you find out?"

  "Just a few minutes ago, Linda came and told me that I'll be on a flight to Sydney tomorrow and that I'll be in first class!" I didn't try to hide the excitement I was feeling. My mother knew how important this promotion was and how hard I'd worked for it.

  "Oh Emily, this is so wonderful!" she cried. Then in a serious voice she asked, "Have you told Tom yet?"

  "No, not yet, but I will," I assured her. "I'm on my way back from Los Angeles this afternoon, so I'll be in Vegas by dinnertime."

  "Why don't you call him?" she asked.

  "Mom, you know why," I warned.

  "I know, but I keep hoping that things will turn around and that you two will be able to make it work," she sighed.

  "I know, but you know how he is," I said quietly.

  "But let's not get weighed down in that,” she said softly. “When do you leave for Sydney?"

  "Thursday morning," I told her. "I've got to get things in o
rder before I head out for that hop. I'll be gone for almost a week."

  "Is this constant travel healthy for you, baby?" she asked seriously.

  "Mom, I'm twenty-three. I can handle just about anything they throw at me," I laughed. "You worry too much."

  "I know, but you're my baby and it's my job to worry," she laughed with me. I knew my mother was worried about far more than my health, but I didn't want to give her cause for any more worry than was necessary, so I didn't talk about the fact that traveling three out of four weeks of the month was far better than being home.

  "I know, I know," I sympathized. "I wish you would have had one more kid, you know? Just so I'd have someone to share the worry burden with and take the focus off of me all the time!"

  My mother laughed loudly and then started coughing. I laughed with her until I realized that she couldn't catch her breath.

  "Mom? Mom?" I called trying to get her to focus on speaking. "Mom, are you okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine," she finally croaked. After a few moments, she continued in a cheerful tone, "I just swallowed wrong and it went down my windpipe. That'll teach me to drink coffee and scold you at the same time!"

  "Are you sure?" I asked, worried that she wasn't telling me something.

  "Oh, absolutely sure!" she assured me. "You worry too much, baby. I'm completely fine. I just swallowed wrong."

  "Alright, well," I hesitated. "Then, I'll come around and take you to lunch tomorrow, okay? Around one, is that okay?"

  "Sure, that would be lovely, sweetie," she said. I could hear her smile through the phone connection. "But you do not need to worry about me. Really."

  "Alright, then I won't," I lied. "I'll be there to pick you up at one tomorrow, okay?"

  "I'll be looking forward to it, honey," she said. "We'll celebrate your good news in style!"

  "I love you, Mom," I said.

  "I love you, too, Emily," she said and then she was gone.

  #

  I felt a hand on my shoulder as I hung up the phone and turned to find Trish standing behind me.

  "Hey, lady," I smiled as I tucked the phone into my purse and closed it. "What are you doing?"

  "Picked up a red-eye to New York and decided to eat dinner in the terminal before I go to the lounge for a bit," she said as she hugged me. "Congratulations, darlin'! I heard about the promotion from the gate crew."

  "Thanks, Trish," I said as I returned the hug. Trish was my best friend at Marks Air. We'd been hired at the same time and had gone through three weeks of training together. If it hadn't have been for Trish, I might have quit the first week. She was everything I was not. A tall, curvy redhead with a voice that sounded like cream poured into whiskey, she commanded the attention of everyone, but particularly men. She was constantly fending off the advances of over-amorous passengers and pilots alike, and as a result, had developed an exterior shell that I strived to emulate. She was an expert at telling people to go to hell and having them look forward to the trip.

  "You tell the old man yet?" she asked as she scanned the terminal for possible dinner options.

  "Not yet," I sighed. "Tonight, though. Maybe I'll make him something special for dinner and break it to him easy."

  "You'd think the jerk would be happy about you getting promoted," she said. "I mean, you'll get a raise and a more regular schedule."

  "The raise will be great and he'll love it," I said. "The schedule, well, I think both of us look forward to the time we don't have to spend together more and more these days."

  "Why do you stay with him?" she asked point blank. "If you are both miserable, why do you maintain this farce of a marriage?"

  "Because," I said, not quite knowing how to answer her question without laying myself bare to a host of other questions.

  "Because what?" she pushed. "Because you feel sorry for him? Because you are worried about how he'll respond? Because you're concerned about being judged by society? Wake up, buybacks, it's 2015, not 1950."

  "You don't understand..." I trailed off, knowing that she did, in fact, understand.

  "The hell I don't," she shot back. "The hell I don't."

  "I know," I said softly. "I'm just worried about how he'll take it. You know how he struggles with the injury and how down he can get. I just worry that..."

  "Emily Anne Martin Warner," she said in a stern voice. "You are not responsible for the feelings of the entire world. You are not responsible for making a man comfortable with the choices he needs to make. A man, I might add, who has had time and opportunity to come to grips with the changes that we all have to deal with. Life happens, deal with it."

  "I know, I know," I repeated. "I'm just trying to think about how I can tell him without making him feel like less."

  "And, people wonder why I am still single," she huffed. "I'm going to point them toward your marriage when they ask."

  "Don't be mean, Trish," I said sadly. "We're all doing the best we can."

  "I know, sweetie," she said with a contrite look as she pulled me to her and hugged me again. "I'm sorry. Sometimes I get all high and mighty in an attempt to defend my own life choices. It's your life, you choose and I'll be there to help you deal with the consequences."

  "Thanks, Trish," I smiled as I stepped back and looked at my watch. "Oh crap, I need to get to the gate! We leave in an hour and I am in charge of business today. Gotta run! I'll see you later this week?"

  "Yes! I'm on the Thursday flight!" she yelled.

  "See you then!" I yelled over my shoulder as I sprinted down the concourse with a smile.

  No matter how Tom reacted to the news of my promotion, at least I knew I could talk about it with Trish on the flight to Sydney.

  Chapter Three

  Austin

  When the room server brought the food up to my suite, I had him lay it out on the table like I was hosting a dinner for two so he wouldn't think I was alone. Once he'd left, I turned up the Yankees game and dug in. The burger was a perfect shade of pink and was so juicy that I ended up licking it off my hands as I devoured it and the accompanying crispy steak fries. When I'd finished my meal, I sighed, cracked open another chilled Deschutes Black Butte, and leaned back to watch the Yankees stick it to the Mets, yet again.

  Just as the game was winding down and the Yankees were assured of another win, my phone began buzzing. I looked down and smiled as I answered it.

  "Hi, Mom, what's up?" I said knowing full well that she was calling to crow about the game.

  "Well, the Yankees did it again," she cheered a little too loudly over the roar of voices in the background.

  "'Where are you, Mom?"

  "Where the heck do you think I am?" she laughed. "I'm at the game, silly boy!"

  "What the hell?" I laughed. "Mom, what are you doing?"

  "Look, my son is a multi-billionaire and I can afford to take an afternoon off work and cheer on my team now," she replied.

  "But how did you get tickets?" I asked.

  "Oh, I have my ways," she assured me.

  "Mom, you didn't buy those tickets from a scalper, did you?" I scolded.

  "Don't ask, and I won't tell," she warned. "But no, I didn't. I got them from a friend who couldn't go and needed to unload them at the last minute."

  "Mom, this sounds somewhat shady," I began.

  "Austin Edward Marks, do not lecture your mother," she said in an ominous tone.

  "Okay, okay!" I laughed, giving up. "How was it?"

  "How do you think it was?" she shouted. "The Yankees won!"

  I looked up at the television screen just in time to see the banner flash "YANKEES BEAT METS 6-2" and see the crowd let go with a huge roar that seemed to shake the stadium. My mother continued talking, but she was drowned out by the crowd, so I hung up and texted her.

  Austin_Marks: Talk later! Love you!

  Mama_Marks: OK. Want to hear about dates! Love you 2!

  My mother was relentless when it came to marrying me off. She wanted to see her only son married and producing grand
children so that she could spoil them in the way that she'd wanted to spoil me, but wasn't able to. I loved her for her attempts to set me up with women she deemed appropriate, but it never quite clicked, so she was constantly disappointed.

  I tried to reassure her that it wasn't her fault, but she seemed to assess every failed date with the attention of a war general and double down as she tried again. I'd protested, but it had gotten me nowhere, so now I just gave in and figured that at least it was giving her something to do. Besides, I wasn't around enough to have to go on many of the dates, so really all it ended up being was a string of infrequent nights out with good girls who were the daughters, and sometimes granddaughters, of my mother's closest friends.

  There are worse ways to spend an evening, I thought as I looked around the suite and noticed that the lights had come on in Central Park. I stared down at the city for a long time, thinking about how different it looked from this vantage point.

  I'd come a long way from the little one-bedroom apartment on Evergreen Avenue in Brooklyn, but I wasn't sure that I was any happier than I'd been back when it had been just my mother and me.

  She'd worked as a secretary in Manhattan before I was born, but when I was small, she changed jobs and became a librarian in Brooklyn so that she could be home when I got out of school. I'd walk the three blocks from my school to the library and find her packing up her bags. She'd always have a new book or magazine for me to read and would always tell me that I had to be careful with it since no one had even touched it yet. There was something about her ability to turn the average everyday thing into something fresh and new that made me feel like I had everything, despite the fact that we lived a pretty meager existence.

  Our apartment was sparse in its decoration, but my mother somehow managed to make it a warm and inviting home with her thrift store finds. I never had the most fashionable clothing, but she made sure that everything I wore was neat and clean. And although we weren't able to afford lots of groceries, she always focused on buying high quality food from farmer's markets and local butchers. Some years, she would claim a patch of ground out behind our building and plant a variety of vegetables. The patch would often get raided by neighbors and animals, but my mother never seemed to mind. She'd say that if someone needed the food more than we did, then they were welcome to it. Besides, I never went to bed hungry, though looking back on those years, I think that she often did.