Page 3 of Meeting the Billionaire Boss

‘I’ve filled the freezer with meals.’

‘I know.’ She leans back to look at me. ‘The cupboards are groaning with goodies.’

It’s true. I went to the supermarket yesterday and did a big shop and I’ve arranged a weekly delivery slot for Mum and Daniel to get a regular restock. I’ve also set up some online subscriptions, so they’ll get other essentials delivered during my absence.

‘I’ve put that money into your account now and you have the emergency credit card?’

‘It’s safe in the drawer. Now stop worrying.’ She pushes my hair behind my ears. ‘Dan and I will be fine. With that games console you bought him, I doubt I’ll see much of him anyway.’ She laughs but I know she was worried when I took him to get one. Once I’d signed the contract, everything happened quickly. Nala phoned me three days after our meeting to tell me that the employer had completed the background check and was happy that I fit the criteria. A retainer was paid into my bank account that day and I kept looking at my balance to make sure it was still there. It was more than I could earn in a year with two jobs, and it was just a retainer! I knew I couldn’t leave it sitting there though so I paid off some debts, transferred some to Mum and paid the rent for the next six months. After that, I’m hoping we’ll be able to look for somewhere better to live and that thought has kept me going every time I’ve experienced a flicker of doubt about going away.

‘Don’t let him spend too long on it each day. It’s meant to be a reward for doing his homework and helping out around here. I still wish you’d let me hire someone to come in and help.’

‘Ava, the thought of having a complete stranger come into my home to cook and clean fills me with horror. I’d end up cleaning before they came and it would be more stress than it was worth. If things get too much, then I’ll reconsider, but for now, I’m sure we’ll be fine.’

‘Don’t worry, Ava, I’ll help Mum.’ Daniel has emerged from his bedroom and comes to me. ‘I know you’re worried but it’ll all be fine. Perhaps when you finish your job we can go on a holiday?’

The hope in his voice almost undoes me. We’ve never been able to afford a holiday. He’s talked about them a lot after his school friends told him about theirs and I know there have been some school trips he would’ve loved to go on but our budget just couldn’t stretch to it. Things will be different after this contract is done though. For sure.

‘Of course we can. I’ll be back before January for visits but we can definitely talk about a holiday.’ Wrapping my arm around his shoulders I pull him close and kiss his brown hair. He comes up to my shoulder now but he’s still very slight compared to some of his friends. I love him so much I want to wrap him up in cotton wool and keep him safe from the world but I also know that he has to discover things for himself. Mum and I will do what we can to help him to navigate his way through life and money will really help with that. After all, the new uniform I wanted to get him is now in his wardrobe, washed and ironed, as are the shiny black shoes he needed and the trainers for when he has physical education lessons. He’s all ready to start the new term at school. Sadly, I won’t be there for his first day back, but I guess everything comes with a price.

‘Don’t be sad,’ he says, giving me a tight hug. ‘Go and enjoy your new job.’

My mobile buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out and see a message from the driver. He’s outside so it’s time to go.

I swallow hard and kiss Daniel again then pull myself away. After I’ve hugged Mum one final time, I go to the door and open it then pick up my luggage.

‘I love you both so much. I’ll let you know when I’m there safely.’

Mum smiles and Daniel takes her hand, letting me know that he’s the man of the house now.

Then I step outside into the August sunshine and head towards the black car with tinted windows that’s waiting on the road, preparing myself to embark upon this new adventure.

Chapter5

Edward

Name: Ava Marie Thorne

Age: 25

Height: 5 foot 4 inches

Hair: light brown

Eyes: amber

Iread through the profile the private investigator sent me again. There are more details like her education background, where she lives and her work experience to date, but it’s the photographs that interest me most. Ava is… well… pretty average, I guess. Not too short or too tall. She tends to wear her hair tied back and very little makeup. She’s curvy but it’s hard to tell how curvy because in the photos I’ve been sent she’s wearing large T-shirts that could even be men’s and those baggy boyfriend jeans that were fashionable a few years ago. Could still be fashionable for all I care. All that matters about Ava, really, is that she’s as unlikely as a unicorn. She’s a rare creature because she doesn’t have any social media presence at all. Well, except for an old Facebook account that she hasn’t been active on for over ten years. She’s exactly what we needed but I can’t help wondering if she sounds too good to be true. I guess time will tell.

I close the file on my iPad, drop it on the bed and gaze out of the bedroom window. Joe is running around the grass while Cynthia pegs washing on the line that’s off to the side of the house. It’s the perfect picture of domesticity and she could easily be his grandmother. We could easily be a normal family with normal concerns and a normal life. But we’re not. We live in this massive house that my earnings paid for in the beautiful Buckinghamshire countryside. My father, Peter Cavendish, passed away when I was twenty-one and my mother, Helen, lives in Scotland with her second husband, so Joe has no grandparents around him. My only other surviving relative was my grandfather, the founder of Cavendish Construction of which I am interim CEO, and he passed away six months ago. Grandpa, otherwise known as Silas Cavendish, was a workaholic who clung to his job title until he took his final breath. Only then, after working my way up from the bottom after graduating university, was I allowed to take over and, until the Board of Directors vote next year, there’s no guarantee that the title will be mine permanently. Grandpa saw to that, stubborn and cantankerous old man that he was.

And so I rattle around the enormous family home that my wife and I chose together when she was pregnant with Joe, with my son and our staff. There’s the housekeeper, Polly Treharne, Cynthia, who’s our nanny, and her husband, Laurence, who manages the grounds along with his team. We have cleaners but I rarely see them so well are they managed by Polly. In fact, I sometimes feel like we have ghosts that come in and clean around, a fact I don’t share with Joe because he’s already sensitive about what happens when we’re no longer here. And no wonder, poor boy.

A few years back, I was enjoying my life, thinking how lucky I was. I seemed to have it all… a beautiful wife, adorable baby, a successful company that would one day be under my control and a grand country house. Then everything changed. A sour taste fills my mouth and I go to the ensuite and swill my mouth with cold water straight from the tap. I learnt the hard way that life can change in an instant, people can turn out to be very different to the version of them you believed in and happiness can be destroyed. I splash some water over my face then pat it dry with a towel, attempting to ground myself with physical sensations before the spiralling starts. But it’s too late and my mind is gripped by the familiar thoughts.

I was a fool to give my heart to someone because people die. People lie. People… are people — flawed, foolish, ungrateful, deceitful, disloyal.

Never again will I put my trust in someone else. I’m in this for my son and for myself now and the rest of them can go to hell.

Shaking it off, I return to the bedroom and consider heading out to play with Joe. It would make his day. Young children are such simple creatures, wanting time and attention far more than money or gifts, and yet I know that these are the things I struggle to give to Joe. It’s easy to buy him things and hope he’ll understand that it means I care, whereas being with him is more complicated. I try, I really do, but spending time with him brings so many memories back. It’s easier to leave him in Cynthia’s capable hands and retreat to my study, to bury my head in paperwork and online meetings and things that have no power to hurt me. If I was psychoanalysing myself, I’d probably believe that my attempts to distance myself from Joe lie in my fear of caring about people. It hasn’t got me far in the past other than into painful predicaments where I’ve been made to look like a fool, where I’ve been hurt beyond measure.

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