Page 1 of The Tycoon's Pet

Prologue

Kayla

“Don’t run, honey!”

But I kept running, the sound of my laughter trailing after me as I dashed across the sun-drenched garden of the Carlton Estate. I had loved coming there ever since Grams started working as their gardener a few months ago. I was enthralled by everything—the gorgeous, castle-like house, the beautiful, lush lawn, the abundant flower gardens, and the huge fountain in the front.

I was there to help Grams’ water the gardens that day, but I was quickly distracted by a butterfly, tracking it as it flitted from flower to flower. I ignored Grams’ warning not to run, quickly following it off into the expansive woods off the estate. Just as I was about to catch up with the gorgeous creature, I slammed into something…no, not something. Someone.

That was the first time I saw him. Paul Carlton, the son of the estate owner. He was a few years older than me at the time, just entering his teen years while I was still only seven-years-old. I stammered my apology for running into him. He just walked away.

I returned, sulking over losing my butterfly and Paul’s quick dismissal of me.

As I approached Grams back in the gardens, she asked me what was wrong. I told her about my interaction with Paul and she encouraged me to give him another chance, he had just lost his mother a few months prior and was having a hard time adjusting. I promised her that the next time I saw him, I would be kinder and more understanding of his situation.

The next day, I was wandering around the grounds, hoping to see Paul again. Luckily, I found him seated on the dock at the estate’s private lake. He had a stack of pebbles next to him and was monotonously tossing them into the water, appearing not to care if they skipped or not.

Sheepishly, I approached him, remembering my promise to Grams.

“Hi,” I said, hovering a few feet away.

He looked up, recognition sparked on his face. “Well, if it isn’t the butterfly chaser,” he said, with a small smile. Slowly, I walked to sit next to him, glad he didn’t seem to be mad about yesterday’s incident any longer. I picked up a pebble from his stack and tossed it onto the lake. It skipped twice before plopping into the water.

“How are you so good at that?” Paul asked, turning to me with surprise.

“I used to do that with my dad back home.”

Something like understanding crossed his face before he quickly looked away. “Seems like you’re kind of far from home, Butterfly,” he said after a moment.

I giggled at the new nickname. “My name is Kayla,” I said shyly. “I’m living with Grams while my mommy and dad are going through a split,” I continued.

Paul just nodded. Feeling shy, but remembering my promise to Grams, I reached into the back pocket of my jeans and took out a flower.

“Here, I wanted to give you this,” I said, holding it out to him.

He hesitated for a moment before accepting it. “Yellow rose,” he said, raising his eyes to mine with a growing smile on his lips. “Are you asking me to be your friend, Butterfly?”

“How do you know what it means?” I asked him with surprise.

“I spend time with Rosemary too, you know. Your Grams is a flower genius, and she makes sure to tell me everything about them, too.”

I just smiled at him. “So… will you be my friend?”

“Yeah, Butterfly, I think I could use a friend right now,” he said, before reaching out his hand for me to shake. I grasped his hand and shook, starting a friendship that would change my life.

***

16 Years Later

“Earth to Kayla.”

I glance up to see my best friend, Bonnie standing in front of me with a bowl of popcorn in one hand and two glasses of wine in the other. It's a Sunday evening and as usual for us, we're hosting a sleepover in my little studio apartment. Bonnie had gone to make some popcorn while I flipped through my old photo album, but I got stuck on a particular photo of Paul and I, standing side by side in front of a Christmas tree. I was gazing up at him with a big toothy smile on my face while he stared at the camera with an irritated expression. But if one looks hard enough, one can see the slight tilt of his mouth. It's the barest hint of a smile but it's there…

It was the Christmas of the year I started living with my grandmother in the Carlton estate after my parents divorced. Grams had set up the tree in the main house and taken tons of pictures, but Paul appeared only in this one picture, and it turns out it is the only picture of us from that time in our lives.

“You're doing it again,” Bonnie says, flopping beside me on the couch, leaning over to peer into the old photo album opened on my lap.

“Doing what?” I ask, feigning ignorance.

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