Page 1 of A Billionaire Gentleman

One

Jude – 1993

I stoodat the window and looked out over Houston without really seeing the city. I’d been born and raised here. Married and had a family here too. Now, at fifty-two, I was a grandfather twice over, the youngest one just a couple months old, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Walter and Cheryl had at least a couple more.

A hint of a smile appeared as I thought about little Damon. The oldest, Davin, was such a serious child, especially for a toddler. Being a big brother would give him something to focus on, and I hoped, something to smile about.

I sighed as I turned away from the window and went back to my desk. Hopefully, all the hard work I’d put into Holden Enterprises would give my son and my grandsons – maybe a couple granddaughters – an easier life than I’d had. Not that my life had been financially difficult. Though I would’ve traded every penny to have had my parents just one day more.

My eyes dropped to the pictures on my desk. One was of my first wife, Dorcas, and our son, Walter. It’d been taken about a year before she died. The other one was of me with my current wife. Rachel and I had been married for eight years, and things had actually been really good…until a few days ago when she’d started acting crazy.

I winced at the word. I’d actually said it to her last night, and then I’d slept in the guestroom. I’d known it was the wrong thing to say the moment it’d left my mouth, but the things she’d been sayinghadbeen crazy.

She’d been going on and on about this woman that she thought was flirting with me at church. Some tall, skinny blonde whose name I didn’t even know, and I really didn’t remember talking to. I only knew she was a tall, skinny blonde because Rachel had said so. If Rachel had told me her name, I didn’t remember it.

I glanced at the clock, surprised to see that my morning was pretty much gone. I hadn’t realized I’d been there that long. It wasn’t the first time I’d recently gotten lost in my head. Getting older was harder on me than I’d always thought it would be. Not that I was old. I intended to be around long enough to see great-grandchildren.

Pushing away the maudlin thoughts that came with age, I turned my attention to the stack of mail sitting on the corner of my desk and reached for the envelope on top. Junk mail. I tossed it into the trash and reached for the next one.

My phone rang, and I reached for it with one hand as I used the other to toss a catalog into the wastebasket.

“Holden Enterprises, how can I help you?”

“Did I interrupt something?” Rachel’s voice was harsher than it usually was, and I closed my eyes as it grated on my nerves.

“Just going through my mail. How are you doing?”

“Going through your mail? Isn’t that what you have a secretary for?”

I let out a slow breath and counted to five before I spoke again. “Is something wrong, Rachel?”

“Nothing that you want to talk about.” She waited a beat before adding, “What time to you plan to be home tonight? I want to get to the salon, and they couldn’t get me in until six. And don’t even suggest I wait. I found three new gray hairs, and I’m not having that.”

I didn’t like being at odds with her. We actually didn’t fight much, and never like this. I’d never thought of her as the jealous type, but she’d been a little more…sensitive recently. It wasn’t until right now that I made the connection, though. She was jealous because she felt like she was getting old. One of our friends had recently left his wife for a much younger woman. Since Rachel was a few years older than me, the news must’ve hit her harder than I’d realized.

I opened my mouth, then closed it again, realizing that there was absolutely no way to tactfully address what I’d just figured out. Before I could think up the best response, my secretary, Lulu, came rushing in, her eyes wide.

“Mr. Holden, you need to come! Hurry! He’s going crazy!”

“Who’s that?” Rachel asked in an overly sharp voice. “Is it her?”

“It’s Lulu,” I snapped. “I have to go.”

I hung up before she could start in on me again, even though I knew I’d hear it from her tonight. But I knew Lulu, and she didn’t exaggerate. If she was that worried, I needed to go.

The noise gave me a clue to what was going on before my eyes finished processing what I was seeing. A man was beating my car with a baseball bat.

Fortunately, he saw me before I had to yell at him.

“You!” He pointed the bat at me.

Shit. “Mark, you need to go. The cops are on their way.”

I really hoped that was the truth because, if it wasn’t, things could go from bad to worse. I was in good shape for my age, but he was an angry thirty-something with a baseball bat. The odds weren’t exactly in my favor.

“I’m not going anywhere!”

His face was bright red, but he stopped a foot away and just pointed with the bat, so I decided that was a positive turn of events.

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