Her Intelligent Billionaire: A Clean Friends to Lovers Romance (Billionaire Tech Tycoons & Titans Book 4) Read online

  It was difficult for her to find a guy who understood that even though she could take first place in the high jump, she still wanted to be treated like a lady. One who wanted romance just as much as any other girl. More times than she could count, she had given advice about buying flowers and chocolates for girls without ever receiving any herself. She had to come to terms with the fact that she wasn't what most guys were interested in. Sure, they wanted to be her friend, laugh with her, maybe even steal a kiss from her if they both were in the right flirtatious mood, but they never wanted anything serious. Back then, she wasn't the cheerleader that boys went crazy over. And now, she wasn't the model trophy wife that many men wanted to marry.

  Jill felt lucky that she had Dillon to rely on during those times. She was unsure if her lovesick, teenage heart could have handled being rejected so much without him standing by her side. She could always count on him to have words of wisdom ready to distract her from her aching heart. Dillon would often encourage her to get over her latest heartbreak by focusing on their mutual love of technology.

  It was this passion that had led both Dillon and Jill to pursue their careers. Jill had decided to focus on teaching Computer Science 101 at a technical institute close to Seattle. Dillon, on the other hand, concentrated all of his energy toward starting an artificial intelligence consultation company. Dillon's innovative passion for AI technology had skyrocketed him towards unfathomable success. It had seemed to Jill that her best friend had grown into a billionaire almost overnight by becoming the leading voice in AI research, use, and innovation.

  Jill liked to tease Dillon about his career and joke that she was responsible for his success because she was the one who had first told him about AI advancements. She had always loved introducing people to trending technology, and AI was her particular area of interest. Although she never dared to imagine that she would ever be as influential in the field as Dillon, she had recently started a research position at the college for medical uses of AI technology.

  When she had told Dillon, he had been thrilled for her. If she closed her eyes, she could still hear his congratulatory cheers. He was her biggest source of encouragement and support. Right now, as Dillon's engagement to Abigail loomed ever closer, Jill knew that it was time for their roles to change. Now, it was him that needed her to encourage and support him as he took a leap for love. Jill just hoped that she was wrong about Abigail. In fact, she desperately wanted to be wrong.

  Dillon's eyes flickered nervously from his plate of filet mignon with red wine mushroom sauce to Abigail's withdrawn face. It had been one week since he and Abigail had come back from Ireland, and she still hadn't returned to her usual self. Even worse, Abigail had been avoiding Dillon every chance she could. Every time Dillon had called her, she had a convenient excuse for why she couldn't talk to him, meet with him, or even return his messages. Exasperation had overtaken Dillon. Sometimes he wished that being with Abigail felt as natural and easy as being with Jill. With Jill, he never felt anxious to express his feelings. He knew that even if he said something ridiculously outlandish, Jill would listen and try her hardest to understand him. With Abigail, he felt like he had to keep his swirling emotions in constant order. It was exhausting.

  Nevertheless, Abigail was the first woman he could picture spending the rest of his life with. She was a sophisticated beauty that came from old money. Many times, Dillon had marveled that she had agreed to date him at all. He had seen how her family valued someone’s aristocratic pedigree more than that person’s actual heart. It baffled him to see Abigail’s family favor a member of generational wealth over someone who might have made their fortune more recently. To Dillon, a person was a person.

  Still, he could see Abigail raising their children and filling his home with love. The older he had gotten, the more urgently he felt the need to start a family. He knew he was ready to start a family; he just needed to find the right person he wanted to do that with. It was his yearning for a family that made him go against his better judgment by continuing to pursue Abigail. When they had first started dating, everything that Abigail had described for her perfect future matched what he envisioned for his life. Dillon just wasn't sure what had changed on their trip to Ireland. He hoped that he and Abigail could talk it over during dinner, but based on the disconnected look in her eyes, he doubted she would be feeling very talkative tonight.

  He had arranged for his private chef, Baylor, to cook Abigail's favorite meal. Dillon had expected for Abigail's eyes to light up, but instead, she pushed the succulent pile of lump crab that had been stacked atop the steak aimlessly around her plate. Dread crept into the pit of Dillon's stomach. He recalled his last conversation with Jill since he had been back stateside. She had cautioned him that Abigail's distant behavior could be because she had reservations about getting married. Dillon regretted how quickly he had dismissed Jill's opinion.

  Over the course of their friendship, Dillon had found that Jill's quick attention to detail helped to balance out his extensive, and often unrealistic, dreams. Her voice of reason was frequently how he found success in many of his endeavors. Jill helped him to bring his flights of fancy into realistic goals. He would come up with a grand vision for a project, and she would poke holes in it to help him see the areas that needed more planning. Dillon had never questioned Jill's judgment before, and he realized that he shouldn't have challenged it with Abigail. Now, he had to face up to the fact that the woman he wanted to marry might not want to marry him.

  There was only one way for him to discover the answer to his burning question. "Do you still love me?" he blurted across the table to Abigail. Startled she looked at him for what felt like the first time in weeks. A soft sadness weighed down Abigail's gaze as she drank in his naive optimism.

  "It's not that easy anymore, Dillon," she murmured. Abigail slid her palms against her slender arms leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Dillon resisted the urge to go to her and warm her with his embrace. This was the first time in almost a month that Abigail had dropped her facade of cold neutrality.

  "Tell me how I can make it easy again, Abigail." He reached across the table and clutched her hands in his. "Say the words, and I'll do it."

  "It's not you," she began quietly, "it's my family. They've humored me and tolerated our romance, assuming it was a flight of fancy. I've held them at bay...until recently. But I can no longer bear the relentless pressure." Dillon waited patiently for her to continue. He had always known that Abigail’s parents weren’t his biggest fans. He understood what pedigree and old money meant to them, but he had imagined that they would want their daughter to marry someone who loved her, no matter when they had made their fortune in life.

  “There is an expectation that comes with being a Harry. My family has a history of marrying within a certain class.”

  “What do you mean?” Dillon demanded. “I’m a billionaire, Abigail.”

  Abigail shook her head before pulling her hands away from Dillon. “It’s not the same, Dillon. My family has been strategically making matches for years.”

  Dillon was stunned. He had been trying to prepare himself for a plethora of reasons of why Abigail had changed, but this scenario had never crossed his mind. "I don't understand," he stuttered. “Your parents don’t think I’m good enough for you?” Abigail looked down. “Do you think I’m good enough for you?”

  “Being with you has been fun, Dillon. I didn’t think you were serious about wanting to get married.” Her eyes flickered guiltily to her lap. “Then, right before our trip to Ireland, I found a receipt for Tiffany's in the pocket of your jacket. I didn’t know what to do,” Abigail’s voice began to quiver. “I thought I had made it clear that I was going to marry someone with connections.”

  “I have connections,” Dillon said. He felt like his heart was shattering a million times over. “I thought I made you happy, Abigail.”

  "Marrying you would stop my family's expansion into the established dynasties. I can’t do i
t. I can’t ruin what’s taken generations to build."

  "So, you're saying you choose your legacy over love?" Dillon asked bitterly.

  "It isn't a choice, okay. I can't squander what has been built up. My great-grandfather passed it on to my grandfather, who passed it on to my father. Now as an only child, it's up to me. When I do marry, I will have to marry an heir, Dillon. I can't turn my back on that. I just can’t. Not even for you."

  Abigail stood without another word. Dillon sat miserably at his table. He had his napkin balled up in one hand as he tried to stop tears of frustration from falling. He had taken a risk by falling for Abigail, and his venture had left him with a broken heart and shattered dreams. He wasn't sure if he was strong enough to pick up the pieces by himself.

  Chapter 3

  Jill picked out her favorite shade of soft pink nail polish from the array of choices at the salon. Her twin sister, Lilly, flashed her a smile when she saw Jill's decision.

  "You always get that one," Lilly said as she picked out a bottle of bright turquoise polish. "You should go for something different." Lilly handed her a bottle of dark red polish. Jill had always been drawn to this color; its ruby red depths caught her eye every time she came to this salon.

  "You don't think it's too unexpected?"

  "You need a little bit of the unexpected in your life right now," Lilly encouraged. "Especially after that totally dull date you went on yesterday."

  Jill laughed in spite of herself. "It was pretty boring. Who knew that a guy who hosted his own radio show would spend the whole evening talking about his love for model trains." Jill shuddered. She had spent the whole evening trying her best to seem interested, but there was only so much train lingo her brain could absorb before she mentally checked out. This seemed to be the pattern of her love life. She would meet someone, only to find out that they had almost nothing in common. Jill had been casually dating here and there the past several years but without any success. There had been one man, Keith, who she had dated for almost a year.

  They both had enjoyed each other's company, but a trip to Miami had helped her realize that the only interest Keith shared with her was a love for travel. But he wanted to live a nomadic lifestyle, traveling the world on a sailboat, and Jill didn't want to be uprooted. She wanted to be able to see her family in person more than once every other year. The two had ended their relationship amicably, but he was the last person that she had seen steadily. "Maybe you're right, Lilly, maybe I need to switch things up," Jill said.

  "There you go!" her sister pumped one of her fists into the air. "Embrace the unexpected."

  "Speaking of unexpected," Jill ventured, "why did you dye your hair?" Jill studied Lilly's now raven black locks.

  "You don't like it?" Lilly playfully flipped her hair over her shoulder.

  "I do. Black looks good on you. But I thought you said you wouldn't ever dye your hair the same color twice."

  "I did say that, didn't I?" Lilly stared thoughtfully at a distant spot on the far wall before continuing, "When I was in the studio, I started thinking about how much I loved my hair when it was dyed black. I realized that I kept trying to do new colors when I could just go with a color I already knew I enjoyed. So I went out and bought some dye."

  They lapsed into a comfortable silence while the nail technicians started their manicures. Jill was used to a stream of constant surprises from her eclectic sister. Even though the two looked almost identical, they were far from similar. Lilly was shy with strangers and preferred a quiet evening in her art studio over a night out with a group of friends. Jill, on the other hand, was a social butterfly. She loved to meet new people and relished large gatherings. But it was their polar opposite personalities that made Jill and Lilly so close. Jill confided in Lilly as much as she confided in Dillon. Jill's eyebrows furrowed in concern as a picture of Dillon down on one knee in front of Abigail flitted across her mind.

  "What is it?" Lilly asked.

  "I was just thinking about Dillon. He was supposed to call me this morning, but he never did."

  "That's unusual. He never misses a phone call with you."

  "I know," she sighed, "I wonder if it has anything to do with Abigail. He told me they were going to have dinner last night to talk over everything that's been going on."

  "Maybe the dinner went better than he expected?" Lilly chimed in hopefully.

  Jill doubted that the conversation had gone well. While she had mentioned to Lilly that Dillon planned on proposing to Abigail and that she had some reservations about the marriage, Jill had left out the fact that Abigail had been acting reserved around Dillon. Her best friend had shared his feelings in confidence, and Jill would never betray that by sharing them with someone else.

  Lilly blew gently on her freshly painted nails. "Dillon will call, Jill. He always calls."

  "Things change, Lilly. What if I'm not the person he wants to call anymore?" It was hard for Jill to admit her fear out loud. It made it seem more tangible.

  "I can't even imagine Dillon ever not wanting you in his life," Lilly reassured.

  As if on cue, Jill felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. Almost frantically Jill started to flap her right hand to try and get the paint to dry faster. "Lilly, will you pull my phone out? I don't want to miss Dillon."

  Lilly chuckled softly and playfully rolled her eyes as she grabbed Jill's phone with her dry hand. She slid her finger across the touchscreen and pressed the phone to Jill's ear before mouthing "I told you he'd call."

  "You were right, Jill," Dillon's voice sounded heavy. "Why didn't I listen to you?

  Jill's heart sank. She rummaged through her purse and pulled out two crisp twenty dollar bills. "I have to go," she apologized to Lilly. "I'll call you later, I promise." Jill handed her the money to pay for her manicure and then grabbed her keys to leave. "Where are you, Dillon?"

  "I'm at home. I would have called you sooner, but--"

  "You don't have to explain anything," she interrupted. "You just hang tight there. I'm coming over, and I'll bring some queso." Jill plunged her keys into the ignition as she thought about the fastest way to Dillon's favorite Mexican restaurant, Fogon Cocina Mexicana. It was out of her way, but she knew that whenever Dillon was feeling discouraged he invariably wanted their queso. She told Dillon she would see him in a little less than an hour. Jill hoped that she would find the right words to comfort him by the time she got there.

  "I just don't get it, Jill." Dillon scooped a mouthful of queso onto his chip while Jill sipped the vanilla coke he had gotten her from his fridge. The two sat comfortably on his plush leather sofa. Jill had listened intently while Dillon had explained why he and Abigail had broken up. When he had finished his tale, Jill had merely popped open the container of queso and handed him a bag of freshly baked chips. "I thought she loved me."

  "Maybe she did?" Jill suggested. "Just not more than she loves her empire-building family."

  "I don’t understand how she could have chosen her family’s ambitions over her own happiness. I knew how her family felt, but I thought being a billionaire would be enough for them.”

  "You know money doesn't matter, Dillon. How many times have you told me that being a billionaire doesn't change who you are, it just changes your bank account?”

  Dillon sighed. He had told Jill that repeatedly when he had first started finding success with his company. She had been scared that his money would change him. "So who I am as a person wasn't good enough for Abigail's parents?" He lashed out at Jill.

  "Come on. You know I didn't mean that."

  Dillon did know that Jill hadn't meant her comment that way. He just wanted to be angry. Collapsing heavily into his couch, he rubbed a hand over his face. When he stopped, he saw that Jill's piercing hazel eyes were studying him.

  “This isn’t about you. It’s about Abigail. She’s the one who isn’t willing to let herself be loved by you. You will always be enough, Dillon.” Jill softly laid a hand on his knee. Her slim figure was nestle
d comfortably into his sofa cushions. The only sign that she was feeling tense was the way she softly tapped her pointer finger against the seam of her dark denim.

  "I'm sorry. Misery loves company." Dillon shrugged, trying to shake off the guilt he felt for making Jill worry so much over him.

  She smiled at him and leaned over to rest her head in the crook of his shoulder. Dillon wrapped an arm around her, causing her hair to surround her face like a waterfall. She brushed it behind one ear. Dillon loved when Jill was affectionate with him because she was rarely affectionate with anyone. "You’re gonna get it one day, Dillon. You're going to meet the lucky woman who will love you more than life itself." His heart hammered in his chest. Jill had touched on the real reason he was upset. Sure, he was disappointed that Abigail had decided to end their relationship, but he was more upset that, once again, he had been unlucky in love.

  "It just feels like I'll never meet someone."

  "Don't believe that. If someone as kind, caring, and compassionate as you can't find someone, then there's no hope for the rest of us."

  Dillon lightly jostled Jill's shoulders. "You'll get married before I do. Who wouldn't want to be with you? You're the amazing one."

  Jill sat up quickly and looked at him in earnest. "I mean it, Dillon."

  "I wish that Abigail could see me the way that you do."

  "She would if she was strong enough to stand up to her family." Jill's eyes held a hard edge. Dillon knew that his best friend could be protective of him, and he wondered if Jill had secretly disliked Abigail the entire time he had dated her. If she had, she had hidden it well. "Look," Jill said as she placed her hands on either side of Dillon's face, "I know you better than anyone else, right? So believe me when I tell you that some lucky woman is going to go absolutely giddy with joy when she discovers that you want to be her husband."