Page 1 of The Billionaire Land Baron

Chapter 1

Jake loved the way his Aston Martin hugged the curves on the narrow country road. It wasn’t often he got to open her up, and the engine moved from a purr to a roar. He doubted there would be cops out here and didn’t care if there were. This kind of ride was worth the price of a ticket and the bump in insurance. It wouldn’t make a dent in his budget. Not even a blip. Smiling, Jake leaned on the gas.

“Sounds like Layla’s enjoying your time.” Xander chuckled, the sound of his voice clear on the Bluetooth speakers. “How’s the gret stet of Tejas? You turned into a cowboy yet? Seen any rattlesnakes? Eaten your weight in queso?”

“Uh, none of the above. And that’s a terrible accent. Never do that again.”

“As I’ve mentioned in previous conversations, Jacob, I believe that you need to live it up a little more when you do these drives of yours. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“The point is to make sure that everything’s in place.”

“Well, is it? How are things in Lucky? Tell me something good so I can pass that onto the very nervous board. You know I’m not sweating, but I never do. So…you got this, right?”

Jake groaned. “Stop being such a boss, boss. When have I ever not taken care of my end of things? That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”

“I know. It’s the board, not me. I don’t need to remind you that this is our biggest project yet and the first since going public. We need to get the permit office on board, the mayor needs some hand holding—you know. Nothing new and I’m sure it will be fine. The board trusts me. I trust you. Just get back to Chicago with good news in a few days.”

“Will do, Xan. Oh, I wanted to ask you—”

There was a sudden beeping over the speakers. Jake frowned, easing off the gas to glance at the dashboard. He must have gone out of range of the cell towers. Probably time to head back to the tiny town of Lucky, Texas where he was spending the days finalizing plans for a multi-billion-dollar development deal that included a planned community, retail projects, and a bridge across the Sabine River to a new casino in Louisiana. He had a lot to do and didn’t plan to stay in Lucky more than a day or two. He would be checking into a suite at L’Auberge Casino tonight, a little over an hour away.

When he came to a gravel drive, Jake slowed and pulled in so he could turn around. Heading back toward town, he punched the gas, Layla sputtered instead of roaring to life. He looked at the console, seeing the needle on the tachometer jump and then still. An orange light came on.

“No, baby, no, baby, no!” Jake groaned. He pressed the gas again, but Layla sputtered to a stop.

He was on a narrow, mostly paved road somewhere in East Texas. No cell reception, based on the fact that his call with Xander just got cut off. The closest town was Lucky, about fifteen miles back. He hadn’t seen a house or building in at least five minutes of driving. This was the stuff of horror movies. But he was less worried about chainsaw murderers and more worried about his best girl.

Jake did his best to steer her off the road, but there was only a thin, gravel shoulder. Nothing in sight except fields, a few trees, and that one cow lazily chewing grass and staring at him over a wooden fence. He pulled the key from the ignition and rested his head on the steering wheel. Smoke rose from the hood. The May heat already felt oppressive, much hotter than Chicago ever got, even in summer.

“Lord, not Layla. Not today. Not here.”

The only answer to his half-prayer, half-plea was the ticking and hissing of the engine. And the sound of a car approaching, fast. A car! He couldn’t remember the last one he had seen pass by. This might be his only chance to avoid walking miles back to civilization or cell phone reception.

Jake jumped out of Layla, closing her door so she wouldn’t lose it if the car drove by too closely. He was far less worried about his own safety. A pickup was speeding toward him. Feeling foolish, Jake waved his arms over his head.

The truck zoomed right on by but brake lights came on immediately after, then reverse lights. The truck shimmied a little side to side as the driver reversed down the road. Jake caught his breath. Don’t hit Layla don’t hit Layla. He was about to jump in front of her front bumper, which he knew was about the stupidest thing he could do, but finally the truck straightened out and pulled up beside him.

Two guys about his age in their mid-twenties got out. One was drinking a can of beer and had on camo shorts and no shirt. The other had on low-slung jeans and an unbuttoned flannel shirt like it was winter and not ninety degrees. Both wore cowboy boots. They looked exactly like the kind of guys you’d run into on a lonely road in East Texas, down to the older model pickup with a gun rack.

“Thanks for stopping,” Jake said. “I haven’t seen another car for miles and wasn’t sure if I would.”

They both ignored Jake completely and instead walked up to Layla, close enough to touch, but not touching.

The guy with no shirt spoke first. “Holeee sh—”

“Language!” the man in flannel said. “Can’t talk like that in front of a lady. Do you even know what you’re looking at?”

The other man crushed his beer can and threw it in the bed of the truck. “A whole lotta money on four wheels. She’s sure pretty, though.”

The man in flannel reached out a hand and shook Jake’s, his eyes still not leaving the car, like he was looking at a beautiful woman. Exactly how Jake looked at her. He felt the surge of pride that he always did about Layla. She had great, clean curves and was an amazing deep blue. The only thing better than looking at her was feeling the power of the V-12 engine soaring on an open road.

“I’m Matt,” the guy in flannel said. “That’s Slim. Is this an…Aston Martin?”

Jake nodded. “Yeah, the Vanquish.”

“Love the color. Not flashy, like red, but not boring black. What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know,” Jake said. “She started making noises and then everything just shut down.”

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