Winning the Billionaire Read online

  Winning the Billionaire

  Ginny Sterling

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Lawfully Indulged

  Hopefully Matched

  Lawfully Challenged

  Lawfully Devoted by Jenna Brandt

  About the Author

  1

  August 2015

  Eureka, Texas

  “What a day,” grimaced Tyler as he pulled his weary body into the driver’s seat of his Ram truck. He was twenty-nine and felt older than the rusted Dodge he drove. The truck was beat up. The bench seats were gnarled and worn down near to the threads of the striped-cloth seats. You could see the padding peeking through, but it functioned. The old seams hadn’t given yet, but it was close.

  He was close to giving up and breaking too. Life seemed to be falling apart, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t hold it together. To say that things were bad, wasn’t an apt description. He knew he was running on borrowed time and working himself to the bone. Being a welder put him in the heat all day long, and then stocking shelves at night at Milton’s, the local grocery store, was wearing him out faster than it was bringing in the cash. Bill collectors were calling, envelopes kept stacking up in the mail box. It was a never-ending cycle. He was exhausted and reaching his limit, but kept pushing.

  He’d do anything for his mother.

  Tyler was unabashedly a ‘mama’s boy’. His mother qualified for sainthood in his eyes, thinking back on the rebellious streak that was in him as a teenager. He never apologized for anything, nor was he ever wrong. He’d been arrogant, smart, muscled and lithe like an Olympian – or so he thought. Football, baseball and running track in high school with the girls flocking to him for attention.

  He’d come home with deer antlers tattooed on one of his pectoral muscles at the tender age of seventeen, and proudly shown her. His mother had cried and he’d felt shame for the first time ever. She had just gotten off of work from her second job and was making dinner in the kitchen- a simple dinner of grilled cheese and soup. He could see her as clear as possible in his mind, standing there with a dingy apron on, her feet barefoot in her pantyhose and her hair still in the hairnet from the restaurant she’d just gotten home from. He knew now that the simple meal was cheap and filling – things he realized now, as an adult, with bills to pay and responsibilities.

  As a fool, he’d squandered his precious savings on a permanent marking that did nothing other than make him feel even more vain, arrogant, and confident than ever before. Her disappointment in his decision made his soul burn with intensity and he’d prayed hard for forgiveness from his mother and for his actions that night. He vowed then to never, ever make his mother cry again.

  Lost in thought, Tyler stared at the dashboard of his truck in dismay and frowned. The instrument panel had stopped working a long time ago and he had to track his fuel by either the gas light coming on, or the trip meter getting close to two hundred. He certainly didn’t feel like hiking down the side of the road for more gas today. It was a scorcher, and waves of heat were coming off the asphalt. He was exhausted, and it was two more days until his check hit the bank.

  Payday never came soon enough.

  Opening his wallet, he saw the crisp ten-dollar bill and frowned. This was the end of it and had to last until Friday morning. Unfortunately it was only Wednesday and he was at 190 miles on his trip meter on the dash. It’s just too close to try and wing it, he thought.

  Starting up the truck, he headed to the filling station on the way to the grocery where he was due in an hour. Pulling into the station, he put five dollars in the tank of his truck and sighed as he pumped the gas. There was finally a breeze, and it was helping to dry the sweat on his t-shirt from welding frames all afternoon at the body shop there in town.

  Saying it was hot barely began to describe it. The thermometer in the shop had read 105 degrees at one point and he thought he’d faint from dehydration. His boss had gotten them all wet rags for the back of their necks and splurged on bottles of Gatorade but that just made him cramp if he didn’t get enough water in him too. The cold water made his neck muscles ache as they seized up- but he needed the relief from the heat. Taking it off wasn’t an option; when the rag warmed up he would get nauseated from the bordering heat exhaustion running rampant in the shop.

  Walking up to the window, Tyler stood patiently in line. There was nothing more humbling than having to dig for change in front of other people in town. They all knew that the Howe’s were flat broke. Tyler had just sold his childhood home and insisted his mother move into his doublewide so they could get by easier. Both their meager savings were gone, and they’d reached the end of the line. Selling the house, they’d paid off her debts she’d run up raising him, and he’d repaired the engine in his truck so he could keep working and paid off her medical bills. There had been nothing left as a financial cushion for them. Mama had been unable to work the last six months due to a pinched nerve. It was easier, but still so hard to make it check to check.

  Stepping up to the glass, he smiled roguishly with Debbie who was manning the cashier’s kiosk at the station. He remembered her from his glory days in high school. Every guy knew her because she’d been one of the prettiest girls back then. She looked just as tired and haggard as he felt right now, and he could only surmise that it was due to her six children. She’d been pregnant when she graduated high school, and now on her third or fourth husband. He couldn’t imagine what that life could be like, nor did he want to at this point.

  “Hey-a Debbie, how’s it going?”

  “Hey there yourself, Tyler. You’re lookin’ good nowadays. What can I getcha?”

  “I’ve got five bucks on pump one, unleaded. I need a scratch ticket and a Hershey’s for my mama….and shoot, give me a lotto for tonight.”

  “You want the multiplier? It’s a dollar more. How is your mama doing, Ty?”

  “She’s good,” he mumbled and shoved his hand in his pocket to grab change. “Yeah, give me the multiplier. A guy can dream, right?”

  “Of course,” she said politely. “We all dream; some are just nightmares, but still technically dreams. It’s all about perspective nowadays, right?”

  “Amen, girl. Yes it is.”

  “Okay, that’ll be $10.22,” Debbie said through the glass panel, and he was thankful to have grabbed the change out of his ashtray of the truck. He slid the bill and dropped the change in the drawer, saying a silent prayer that nothing happened for the next two days where he’d need money.

  ‘You never ever pray for money,’ his mother told him repeatedly when he was growing up. ‘God gives you what you need, when you need it,’ she’d say, and pat his little shoulder. Now fully grown, Tyler never prayed for money- but he did pray for simplicity to his life, and peace. He just needed a breather for a few days. No trauma, no additional stresses, no surprises.

  “Please? We just need a break until Friday,” he whispered aloud and got back into the hot truck. He wanted to hurry and get to work so the chocolate bar for his mom didn’t melt. Setting it on the worn-out seats, he put a napkin over it in order to try and keep the sun off the packaging.
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  Pulling into the grocery parking lot, Tyler walked inside and smiled politely to his coworkers. The candy bar felt soft as he tucked it into his back pocket of his jeans. He rushed back to the lockers and put his purchases inside. He hoped the candy bar would solidify back up in the cool air-conditioning. He spun the combination lock, securing his wallet and keys inside.

  Walking to the bathroom, he dead-bolted the door and quickly stripped off his shirt, washing himself in the sink with hand soap and paper towels in an effort to keep from smelling to high heaven. He might be broke, but he did have his pride. Staring up at the mirror, he grimaced at the lifelessness in his eyes. He was weary, down to the soul, and needed a change – but then again, most people said the same thing to themselves. He just felt trapped and didn’t see anything happening to change that anytime soon.

  Hearing a knock on the bathroom door, he quickly donned his t-shirt and put his uniform vest over it. Combing his wet hair, he pulled the plug on the sink and pasted an innocent smile on his face. Unlocking the door, he excused himself past the older man that stood there impatiently at the door. Clocking in early, he set himself to work.

  As the evening passed, Tyler focused on simply putting the cans up on the shelves as quickly as possible. He had several pallets to get through tonight and one of the guys had called in sick, so it was all up to him. Sliding the box-knife across the cardboard with practice, he heard quite a commotion up at the front of the store. Ignoring it, he sliced another box open and flinched as rice spilled out. He’d cut too deeply again, slicing the boxes inside.

  “Ty, get another blade for that knife! Tape the boxes up and we’ll mark them down to sell,” his boss said quickly, frowning deeply where he himself was stocking the shelves down the aisle. Tyler knew he wasn’t happy with him. It happened way too often for Tyler and that was simply because he needed a new knife but hadn’t bought one yet. The store claimed to ‘buy the first one, but after that it’s on you’ – Tyler disagreed with this line of thought, but he also wasn’t contacting the owner or state about it because he needed the job desperately. Stocking shelves at night paid more and allowed him to work the two jobs he had. There was nowhere else close by that was hiring at night yet until the Walmart got built in the next town over.

  “Yes sir,” Tyler said politely and got the tape gun to stop the rice from spreading any more than it had already. Taping several sliced boxes shut, he headed back to his locker to get another blade. Opening it, he dug out his last one from the box he’d kept hidden in there.

  “You got a receipt for that chocolate bar, Tyler?” Whirling around, he saw his boss, Mr. Singleton, standing there watching him from the doorway, arms crossed over his chest in a disapproving manner. The look in his eyes made him instantly feel like gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe.

  “Sir, I bought this at the station up the road when I got gas on the way in to work.”

  “That’s not one of ours?” he asked skeptically. Tyler liked the old man. He reminded him of his school principal. He didn’t cotton to anyone fooling around on his watch and made sure everything was on the straight and narrow.

  “No sir, I would never steal from Milton’s. I work here and need the job.”

  “You got a receipt?”

  Tyler thought for several moments, his heart thumping and nausea growing in him. He didn’t get a receipt from Debbie because he didn’t think to. He’d never imagined that there would ever be a problem. It was a small town and they knew everyone here since birth practically. Tyler had never, ever had a reputation of stealing or pilfering anything before in his life – nor would he start now! He had only bought the bar to surprise his mom and looking back, it was a stupid idea. He could have bought it here and avoided this whole mess entirely.

  “No sir, I didn’t ask for one. Debbie Kaufman was the cashier if you want to ask her about it. I bought that candy bar, a scratch ticket and five bucks worth of gas from them on my way here.” Glancing up at the thirteen-inch color tv that was mounted from the ceiling in the breakroom, he saw it flash on the bottom that a store in Eureka, Texas had sold the winning lottery ticket. Looking back at his supervisor’s eerily calm, yet disappointed face, Tyler knew this was it – he was fired and word would spread like wildfire, making it hard to find another job in town.

  “Tyler, I’m going to have to let you go,” his boss started and the rest blurred out as he felt the crushing depression wash over him. What more could go wrong? Tyler thought. There was nowhere else close by to work at night and he couldn’t afford the gas to drive further. He and his mother had already sold off everything they had to try to reduce their expenditures just to make ends meet, but it simply wasn’t happening. They were still struggling financially.

  “Sir, you can have the candy bar. I need this-” Tyler began desperately and was interrupted.

  “It’s not just that. Tyler, you appear unkempt here at work and I’ve never said anything because you were such a hard worker. You damage goods, costing the business money, and this is simply the last straw. Look son, I know you want to work- but this might not be the right fit for you. Something will come along eventually and you’ll land on your feet when it does.”

  “Sir, I need this job badly.”

  “I’m sorry Tyler, now go ahead and leave quietly.”

  Tyler jerked off his vest angrily and got a whiff of the muskiness of his sweat from earlier in the day. Mr. Singleton was right. He was unkempt because he worked so hard and couldn’t afford to use fancy hair products or hoity-toity beard creams. He was a working man. He was filthy and sweated for a living. Hard-earned sweat from a good, honest man. Jabbing his keys and things into his pockets, Tyler turned to walk out of the breakroom only to see his boss still standing there with his hand outstretched.

  “What?” Tyler bit out.

  “The candy bar and your box knife, please?” the older man said calmly. Tyler took several deep breaths and stared at the man. Right now, he felt so bitter and so scared inside. He wasn’t sure how they were going to make ends meet. He dreaded disappointing his mother again and she was bound to guess what had happened, or some gossip would tell her at church. Looking his boss straight in the eyes, Tyler shook his head tightly.

  “Mr. Singleton, sir? I’m going to say this as plainly as possible: I understand you are firing me and I don’t agree one bit- but hear me now… I didn’t steal the chocolate bar,” Tyler told the older man firmly. “Call the police if you want but I am taking my mother her chocolate and walking out of here with it. They can call Debbie down to the station and she’ll verify my story- even if you don’t believe me. Here’s your box knife, but this Hershey’s is going with me,” he said mulishly.

  “Don’t make me call the police about this, son. It’s just a candy bar.”

  “Respectfully sir? I think I am going to do just that. Call them- if you need to,” Tyler said arrogantly. He understood Mr. Singleton’s point of view. If it walked like a duck, as the saying went…but Tyler felt that he had nothing left to lose. Losing this job meant that they would have to make even more sacrifices, and he wasn’t sure what else could go in their lives. They had close to nothing and struggled at that.

  “Let the police come down here. They can take me in and Debbie can validate me. Then I will have a case when I say this is wrongful termination, Mr. Singleton. I’ve never claimed that and never thought I would ever have to, but I have always been honest with you and upfront,” Tyler told him, his feelings bottled up inside at a rolling boil. He didn’t want to lose his temper but he felt his breaking point was very close.

  “I bought my mother a chocolate bar from the gas station and put it in the locker because I didn’t want it to melt in my truck. Was it stupid? Obviously so, if we are talking about it and it’s going to cost me my job… but am I going to let you take my job - and take a bit of happiness from my mother because she likes to have a Hershey bar when she watches her shows on Thursday night all alone? No, sir. I will not.” Tyler said, st
aunchly crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the older man that blocked the door.

  He understood, but his mother was not going to suffer. Mama liked her sweets and that was all he had to give her in life. She’d given and done so much for him, so there was no way he was leaving the grocery store without the chocolate bar. “So, call the police if you want or I can leave right now without causing a ruckus. It’s up to you.”

  Swallowing hard, Tyler stared at his now former boss and felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach as he realized that the proud man might actually call the cops on him for petty theft. Neither moved until Mr. Singleton finally stepped aside. As he walked past, Tyler extended his hand politely.

  “Sir, I don’t like it but I do understand.” Tyler said quietly, looking away. “My mother doesn’t have anything and I…” he stopped and swallowed. “Thank you.” He’d be darned if he’d let this get to him. He’d look over the classifieds and just find something else. He’d pray hard tonight. When one door closed another one opened, right? He just hoped that door opened quickly so there wasn’t a gap between paychecks.

  Leaving the store with as little attention drawn to him as possible, Tyler walked out into the night air. Something had to give, someway…somehow. There was simply not much more they could do without. That thought rang in his mind constantly. He saw people at work with fancy cell phones, nice cars, new boots or jewelry. He and his mama had none of that. They had bills and debt up to their eyeballs from where his mother had struggled for so long as a single mom.

  His dad had up and left them long ago when he was barely five. Told his mother he was taking a job in Dallas, and he barely remembered what the man looked like. His mother didn’t talk about him, only prayed for his dad in heaven or wherever he ended up. He’d been a stranger to him and died in a car accident long ago. Mama had a way of disarming any anger or resentment Tyler felt towards the man for leaving them…abandoning them both, or so he felt. She’d wrap her arms around his lanky frame as an angry teenage boy and say, “He gave me the sweetest gift of all: you.”