Page 2 of The Billionaire Land Baron

“That’s no good. We’ve got a mechanic in town but I doubt they’ll have the parts. Can I touch her?”

“Of course,” Jake said.

Slim pulled another can of beer out of the truck and leaned against it, watching while Matt walked around the car. Layla was sleek and in perfect condition. Other than whatever was wrong with her engine. Jake kept her in top shape, detailing once a month at minimum, even when he hadn’t gotten a chance to drive her much. She was his favorite of the three cars he owned, but he liked her on open roads, not around Chicago. Sometimes he would take her out late at night on Lake Shore Drive and let her run.

Layla had been his first extravagant purchase when he and Xander took Obsidian Development public. Stocks went even crazier than projected and the two of them went from eight to nine zeros in the bank overnight. At twenty-eight, Jake was one of a dozen billionaires under thirty, and Xan was almost as rare as one of forty under forty.

Coming from a modest background, Jake still struggled to grasp his wealth. Where some guys might go crazy and start buying everything they couldn’t afford growing up, Jake did the opposite. His sister Candace made fun of him about it all the time and had taken to calling him Scrooge.

“Better cut it out or I’ll take back your house,” he often told her. Her house, a decently sized family home in Lake Forest, had been his other big purchase. Candace’s husband Leo, who had a great job, had been against the idea at first, but it didn’t take much to convince him. Jake won him over by convincing Leo that he needed space to keep Layla and his Range Rover. Jake had an extra garage built at the back of the property for them and drove a nondescript Camry around the city.

Making life easier for Candace and Leo and Jake’s two nieces meant everything to Jake. After he and Candace lost both parents in a car wreck when they were in their early twenties, they’d been incredibly close. He talked to her almost every day and spent as much time as he could with his nieces Ella and Jamie.

Matt ran a hand along Layla’s hood, then used the bottom edge of his flannel shirt to wipe the fingerprints away. “We can give you a ride to the shop,” he said. “I could tow you, but this lady needs the star treatment. A rope and a hitch won’t do.”

The thought of Layla bouncing along behind the pickup truck, tethered by rope almost made him shudder. Jake looked up and down the road. “I can’t just leave her here. I guess take me to the mechanic, then. We can’t just call?”

“We’re in a dead zone. Do you want to wait out here alone? I could leave you in the heat, if you want.”

Jake took a last look at Layla. “I guess not.”

“She’ll be fine out here,” Matt assured him as the three of them got into the front seat of the truck. Jake found himself somehow in the middle seat of the truck between Matt and Slim.

“You’re lucky you saw us,” Matt said as he started off toward town. “Nobody else will be along this road for hours. What were you doing out here?”

“Uh...scenic drive.”

Not completely a lie. But very few people in Lucky knew what was going on and that’s the way they liked to keep it until it was a sure thing. Xander insisted on the corporate jet for most company travel, but on what Jake called the final sweep, he took a car—usually Layla—and did the drive himself. The area, the surrounding areas, and anything within a twenty-five-mile radius. Looking at the space, getting a final vision for the project, and less often, putting out any fires. Xander handled almost everything involving people while Jake, a raging introvert, took care of the planning and development of the projects. Jake wasn’t shy, but awkward and not as polished as he needed to be for the kind of deals Obsidian handled.

Their complementary skills made them a great team. While just an intern, Jake’s vision and attention to detail garnered Xan’s attention. Xan paid off his mountain of student loans from Northwestern and gave him a job. Three years later, they were full-on partners, owning 51% of Obsidian Development, a Fortune 500 company. Xan was somewhere between his best friend and a mentor. Everything Jake touched seemed to turn to gold, but he needed Xan’s business savvy and ability to network. Xander pushed him farther than Jake would have gone without his guidance. In a feature in Forbes the year before, much to Jake’s embarrassment, they’d been given the nickname the Billionaire Land Barons.

“Beer?” Slim held out a can, dripping with condensation.

“What’s the open container law here?” Jake asked.

Slim and Matt began to laugh. They laughed so hard that they couldn’t answer. Jake’s cheeks burned and he took the beer from Slim. Popping the top, he downed it in a long gulp. He hadn’t realized how hot and thirsty he was.

But that’s not why he took the beer and he knew it. He grew up a poor, fat kid with red hair—a perfect target. He still had red hair, though it had mellowed from a fiery red into a coppery brown. Just before college he had started swimming and now had the broad shoulders, tapered hips, and taut, muscular body of someone who lives in the pool. Now he had more zeroes than he needed in his bank account, righting all three of his wrongs. Too bad he’d never think of going to a high school reunion. He was the ultimate success story, but the insecurities were harder to shake.

“Thirsty?” Matt said.

Jake burped and they laughed again. But it wasn’t unkind and Jake smiled too. “Guess so. Is it always this hot?”

“This ain’t hot,” Slim said.

“Oh,” said Jake. He couldn’t imagine what mid-summer would be like. The air was so humid it was hard to breathe. But Matt had the windows down and he and Slim seemed unaffected. Jake could feel sweat soaking through the back of his T-shirt. He wanted another beer just to put the cold can on his face, but knew they’d probably laugh at that too.

In about fifteen minutes they pulled off the road and onto the small stretch of downtown. Jake had already passed it by earlier: a few restaurants, a diner, antique shops, a pawn shop. Everything looked as though it needed a good dusting off. Or a bulldozer.

With his plans in mind, he saw a totally different Main Street in a year: posh clothing stores, five-star dining, flowerboxes in windows, Christmas lights twinkling in trees.

He had completely missed seeing the mechanic, which was at the end of Main Street, across from a diner. The smells coming from that place made his stomach growl loudly.

“They’ve got the best eggs and burgers,” Matt said.

“And breakfast,” Slim said. “All-day breakfast.”

Jake was more interested in getting Layla into the shop as Matt pulled the truck up to the front. Slim stayed in the truck, but Matt walked with him into the tiny front office. A fan pushed hot air slowly around the room. Matt leaned against the empty counter and then walked through a side door into the garage. Jake followed him. There were two cars in the bays and a few guys in grease-stained coveralls working. Country music played from a transistor radio on a messy desk.

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