The Billionaire's Email-Order Wife Read online

  The Billionaire’s Email-Order Wife

  A Sweet Romance

  Vivi Holt

  Black Lab Press

  Contents

  About the Book

  Free Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

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  Author’s Note

  Excerpt: The Billionaire’s Email-Order Bride

  Excerpt: Make-Believe Fiance

  Also by Vivi Holt

  About the Author

  About the Book

  A washed-up rockstar, a single mother, and a marriage of convenience.

  David Weston is done with the rockstar lifestyle. After a decade of decadence, he moves back home to the country hamlet of Ocilla, Georgia, to rediscover who he always meant to be. But finding himself in the small town of his childhood is harder and lonelier than he thought it'd be.

  Cassidy lost her husband, her life savings and is on the brink of losing her sanity. With three children to feed and no roof over their heads, she moves back in with her parents. Working two jobs and taking care of a family has exhausted every reserve she has, and with the medical bills piling up, she can't see a way forward.

  When a friend signs Cassidy up for online dating, she finds herself face to face with her high-school sweetheart, who just happens to be one of the biggest rockstars in the world.

  He's rich, handsome and kind. She's lonely, tired and desperate. When he suggests a marriage of convenience it doesn't take much to convince her to give it a try. But there's more to this relationship than either one is willing to admit.

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  Chapter 1

  Ocilla, Georgia

  August

  “You need to take a seat right here, girl, and get that hair styled.” Momma Boulin’s full lips pulled into a smile. Her heavily made up face had barely a wrinkle on it, even though Cassidy Hancock had known the woman for the entirety of her thirty-year existence. So, she had to be at least fifty years old, maybe more. She didn’t know why the local stylist was known by the entire town as Momma, but she was.

  No one knew how old Momma Boulin was. And she always laughed at any questions about her age, her eyes sparkling. She’d say, “I’ll never tell.”

  Cassidy sighed and sank into the black, faux leather chair. “I really don’t have the time, or the money—”

  Momma Boulin’s brow furrowed. “Don’t you worry about that, darlin’, I’ll take care of you. You’ve had enough to deal with lately, and your hair is lookin’ more neglected than I’ve ever seen it, and I’ve seen it pretty bad.” Her eyes narrowed as she picked at stray strands of Cassidy’s hair, her lips pursed.

  “Well, thank you Momma. Just do your magic, and I’m going to sit here with my eyes closed. If you hear me snore, don’t feel bad. It’s the only way I get any sleep these days, sitting upright in a chair when I’m supposed to be doing something else.” She chuckled to herself, her eyes already pressed shut so she couldn’t see the look on Momma Boulin’s face. It’d be pity, or disapproval, one of the two.

  That was how everyone looked at her these days, and she couldn’t bear another moment of it. Not right now anyway. All she wanted was to crawl into a dark hole, hidden away from everyone and everything and sleep for days, maybe even months. There was no telling how long it’d take her to recover.

  The expected retort from Momma, a woman always ready with a whip-like wit, never came. She opened her eyes a smidgeon just to make sure the hairdresser was still there, just as the woman’s thick fingers pressed against her scalp. The massage unlocked something deep within her and she exhaled slowly, feeling peace wash over her for the first time in months, maybe even years.

  “Wow, that is amazing. I’ve always said you have a magical touch, and it’s truer today than ever before.”

  Momma Boulin grunted in response and Cassidy lay her head back, eyes squeezed shut, and the hint of a smile on her lips. This was exactly how she should spend the day.

  It was the first day of school. The summer was finally over, and her three children were currently ensconced in their classrooms, and officially someone else’s problem for the next six hours or so. Even the thought of returning to pick them up made her heart race, so she pushed the image of cars idling in the pickup line out of her mind and focused on the delicious sensation of Momma Boulin’s strong hands massaging warm shampoo into her scalp.

  “You figured out whether to sell the house or not yet?” asked Momma, her hands leaving Cassidy’s head for a moment, then returning with a towel to pat her hair dry.

  Cassidy straightened in the chair, her eyes blinking open. “We have to sell. I wish we didn’t… but the medical bills have been piling up for three years. We’ll move in with Mom and Dad for now.”

  “You and three kids over at Tom and Laura’s tiny little place?” Momma Boulin made a honking sound that sent heads throughout the salon jerking in their direction. “That’s gonna be downright cozy.”

  Cassidy arched an eyebrow. “That’s an understatement.”

  Momma stood in front of her, rubbing the towel over Cassidy’s head and obscuring her vision for a few moments. “You know what you need?”

  “Nope, please tell me, because I’d love to have some kind of revelation that’d make my life simpler.”

  Momma chuckled. “You need to get out there and start dating again. A man would—”

  Cassidy’s eyes narrowed and she pulled away from Momma’s towel. “A man? That’s the last thing I need right now. Another person to take care of, to think about, wanting things from me.” Her voice almost broke, and Momma’s smile faded.

  “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t think…”

  “It’s okay.” She reached for Momma Boulin’s hand and squeezed it. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. But I’m exhausted. I’m so tired, that even the thought of dating is too much to take. Having to think about finding a babysitter and spending an evening making small talk, it’s overwhelming when all I want to do is fold the five tons of laundry currently in baskets at my house into small piles while I sip a glass of wine in front of the television before collapsing into bed.”

  Momma’s smile was wan. “Things will get better.”

  “Will they?” Cassidy let herself be led to another chair in front of a full-length mirror. She slumped down into the chair and stared at the reflection of her own pale face. Dark smudges beneath blue eyes, blonde hair turned dark by the water hung lank around a narrow face. Lines creased the corners of her eyes and around her mouth where laughter had once ruled.

  “Yes, they will,” Momma went on. “Losing a husband… well, it’s the worst thing that can happen aside from losing a child. But you’ll get through this too. I lost mine, you know?”

  Cassidy focused on the stylist’s face. “That’s right. How long ago was it?”

  “Thirty-two years this month.” Her lips pushed into a single, straight line.

  Cassidy
exhaled slowly. “So, it gets easier, huh?”

  “It does. It might be a while yet, since Christopher’s only been gone a year. But you’ll get there.”

  “A year…” Cassidy pondered the woman’s words. She was right. It’d been a year since Christopher drew his last breath, though it didn’t feel like it. The busyness of working two jobs and taking care of three children had chased the time away like it was nothing. A year since cancer destroyed their family and tore out her heart. Still, she’d been in mourning for three, with them fighting the disease from the moment they found out the truth behind his fatigue, until the very end.

  “I’m sorry you have to give up the house.” Momma Boulin pushed a brush through Cassidy’s still-wet hair with steady strokes.

  “Me too.” Cassidy sighed. “I’ve been trying to keep up with the mortgage, but I can’t, and the bank says they’ll evict us unless we sell and pay up.”

  “Well, you don’t want that.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Cassidy sat still while Momma Boulin trimmed the ends of her hair, her thoughts running through the list of things she had to do that day. Talking to a realtor was at the top of the list. Then there were groceries to buy, a trip to the pharmacy to make, and other errands she didn’t get the chance to do when she was working, which was usually all the time. Today she had a rare day off since, if she didn’t list the house for sale soon, they wouldn’t even have the option.

  “Why does everyone call you Momma Boulin?” asked Cassidy.

  Momma stopped trimming. “I guess ‘cause I couldn’t have children of my own, so I just took to everyone else’s.”

  “You’ve helped to raise half this town, including me,” murmured Cassidy. “Remember the time you caught me and my friends skipping class with those cigarettes? You made us sit and listen to the story of how your auntie died from lung cancer… you scared us straight, and all with a smile.”

  Momma Boulin smiled now, displaying a row of white teeth behind full, red lips. “I remember well enough. I think I even gave you a handful of candy each and sent you on your way, back to school.”

  The main street of Ocilla, Georgia, never saw much in the way of bustle, nor traffic either. There was one realtor, Missy Day, and that was who Cassidy was on her way to see, though she’d rather have her fingernails pulled one by one than face the woman she’d graduated high school with twelve years earlier, right after Missy laced the insides of Cassidy’s sneakers with superglue.

  They’d barely been on speaking terms since. Something that was hard to pull off when you lived in a town the size of Ocilla.

  She pushed through the realtor’s door, setting off an alarm that buzzed in the back of the office behind a wall that held a pale blue and green replica of some famous artwork that Cassidy recognized but couldn’t name. She’d never been much good at remembering the names of artists, rock stars, movie stars or anyone else famous for that matter. She’d always been the practical type, never one to value another person higher than anyone else just because a few more people knew their name. Fame was a puzzling concept to her, and one she’d happily spend the rest of her life without. Her only dreams in that moment were to find a way to manage paying for rent and food.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Cassidy Hayes.” Missy appeared through a door in the back, wiping a napkin around the edges of her mouth with a wry smile.

  “Hi Missy. It’s Hancock now.” She’d just have to get through this by being polite, friendly but firm. There was no need to drag up the past. She needed Missy’s help for a business deal, nothing more than that. She only hoped Missy could be professional.

  “Right. Hancock, of course. What can I do for you?”

  Cassidy fingered the edge of Missy’s desk. “I need to sell my house.”

  Missy offered her what looked like a warm smile. “Great. Why don’t you take a seat and we can talk about it?” She waved a manicured hand in the direction of a chair opposite her own.

  Cassidy sat, setting her purse on the floor beside her. She leaned forward, placing both hands on Missy’s desk. “I was hoping you might come by and take a look at the place… let me know how much you think I might be able to get for it.”

  Missy’s lips pursed. “I can do that. Can I ask why you’re selling?”

  Cassidy sighed. She’d hoped Missy wouldn’t pry beneath the surface. She hated everyone knowing her personal business, although that ship had sailed long ago in this town.

  “You know I lost Chris?”

  Missy nodded. “I was so sorry to hear that.”

  “Thank you. Well, the treatments were expensive, and insurance didn’t cover everything. So, with the medical bills the way they are… well, I just have to sell, is all.”

  Missy straightened a pile of paperwork on her desk, her red fingernails clacking against the hard timber surface. “I see. So, you’re in a hurry?”

  Cassidy paused before nodding. “Yes.”

  “That’s a shame, ‘cause things aren’t moving real fast in this market.”

  Cassidy’s heart sank.

  “Still,” continued Missy, watching her face closely. “We’ll see what we can do, shall we? No point giving up until we have to.”

  “Thanks Missy. I appreciate any help you can give us.”

  “Of course.” Missy beamed. “I’m happy to do anything I can. Especially after…” She frowned and her voice faded.

  Cassidy hated this part. People wanted to show sympathy, but their pity made her heart hurt. They didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t know how to make it easier for them.

  “You mean after the way you glued my socks inside my shoes on the last day of school?”

  Missy’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “You did! Don’t you recall?”

  “I… I guess I remember that. It wasn’t what I was thinking of though.”

  “You glued my socks right inside my shoes, and I couldn’t ever get them out again. I loved those shoes.”

  Missy’s nostrils flared.

  “I had the entire class laugh at me. Everyone thought it was completely hilarious. Except me of course. I was mad as a hornet.”

  Missy bit down on her lip, then let the smile free. “I remember you dancing around with your face dark as thunder.” She giggled. “It was pretty funny.”

  “You never apologized either,” huffed Cassidy.

  Missy laughed. “I’m sorry. Really, I am.” She attempted to push the grin from her face. “It wasn’t very kind, I know. But back then all I thought about was how I could make people laugh. I wasn’t pretty like you, you know.” Her lips pursed and she tapped the end of her fingernails against the desk.

  Cassidy frowned. She’d never thought of it that way. Only ever believed Missy had teased her and played practical jokes because she was cruel.

  “Well, I guess it would’ve been pretty hilarious to see me trying so hard to get my feet out of my shoes, then hopping around the place like a bunny on hot sand.”

  The two women laughed together until the sound died away, and Cassidy was surprised to find moisture in the corners of her eyes when she wiped them. It’d done her good to laugh. Something she’d never thought she’d do with Missy Day.

  “How’s the family?” she asked when the laughter stopped.

  Missy wiped her own eyes with a sigh. “Ed’s good. Though we’ve been trying to get pregnant now for five years, so it wears on him some.”

  Cassidy’s throat tightened. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t realize.”

  “We don’t really tell people. Though they ask all the time, of course.” Missy rolled her eyes.

  “Of course they do.” Cassidy smiled. “You know, me and Chris went through all that. It took us a while to get the twins.”

  Missy’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Yep.”

  “And now you have three beautiful children. I see you around town with them all the time.”

  Cassidy’s heart expanded. She’d n
ever seen this side of Missy before. Why hadn’t she ever given the woman a chance? “Thank you. I feel blessed to have them.” Her stomach twisted into a knot. “Even though it’s hard sometimes.”

  Missy tipped her head to one side. “I’m sure that’s true. Raising three children alone would be intense.”

  “Yeah it’s pretty wild.” It was so strange to be having such an open and vulnerable conversation with Missy. And the strangest part about it was that it felt completely natural.

  She’d been avoiding the woman for no reason all these years, letting her imagination conjure up all kinds of judgements and criticisms that Missy might’ve had for her. Perhaps she’d been wrong all along, and anyway, high school ended so long ago it was getting difficult to remember much about it. She’d been a different person then, so it wasn’t a stretch to believe Missy was as well.

  “Well, I guess me and Ed will have to go and get tested just to make sure nothing’s wrong. I’d just about given up hope, and I didn’t want to go see the doctor because I thought they’d just tell me it wasn’t possible or something. Silly, right?”

  Cassidy smiled. “No, not silly. I hope it works out for you both.”

  “Thanks.” Missy straightened and reached for her computer mouse. “Now, let’s get that house of yours listed.”

  Chapter 2

  David Weston switched the airplane mode off on his phone, then watched as the dozens of messages filtered into his inbox. One of the benefits of flying was that he was out of contact for hours on end. His manager always begged him to use the Wi-Fi on board the jet, but he liked being offline. At least for a little while. It didn’t happen often that he was uncontactable. But maybe it would now.