Downright Damaged: Enemies to Lovers Billionaire Small Town Romance, page 1
Downright Damaged
Enemies to Lovers Romance
Tricia Newlan
Copyright © 2023 by Tricia Newlan
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact [include publisher/author contact info].
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Chapter 1
Alex
The chandelier's crystals reflect the soft candlelight, scattering dazzling patterns across the damask tablecloth. We’re all alone in a Michelin Star restaurant atop a forty-story building.
The restaurant, flanked on all four sides by ceiling-to-floor glass, overlooks the entire New York skyline. In the corner, a singer-songwriter croons Sinatra. The waiters stand in corners, discreetly allowing us to feel like the only two people in the world. The entire room is filled with larger-than-life floral arrangements – roses and queen of the night – filling the room with sweet fragrance, leading me to yearn for a few days in the wilderness alone.
When was the last time I walked in nature, it seems a lifetime ago.
My reach for my fluted wine glass, and a liveried waiter takes the hint and appears out of nowhere and pours more champagne into our glasses. Across the table, Bethany's blonde hair cascades over her bare shoulders, and her blue eyes sparkle as brightly as the diamonds around her neck.
"To us," she purrs, raising her glass. The scent of her perfume wafts toward me as we clink our flutes together.
I force a smile and take a sip of the bubbly liquid. "I must say, they've certainly pulled out all the stops for us tonight."
Bethany smiles coyly. "Aren’t your parents just the sweetest? You know, I could get used to this lifestyle." She leans forward and bats her eyes at me.
I force myself to maintain eye contact. “Well, I prefer to earn these luxuries, not have them handed to me.”
She waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, Alex, you’re such a buzz-kill sometimes. Speaking of our parents, I was thinking we should start talking about budgets with them soon. My mother is ready to spend a fortune on flowers alone,” she titters. “Of course, it’s our special day, so why spare any expense?”
I clench my jaw, biting back a sharp retort. This again. My parents have already spent a fortune raising me, and in return, they dictate every aspect of my life. From picking what activities I did at school, to barring me from attending prom with the girl of my choice because she wasn’t good enough for the circles ‘we run in,’ to handing over a huge donation for a new research wing at Harvard to ensure my acceptance into its business school. I’ve learned the importance of drawing boundaries with them.
I don't need them bankrolling my wedding too; if they were to do that, it would only be a matter of time before they begin interfering in my marriage. I can only imagine my mother booking our honeymoon, and months later, appointments at the gynecologist for Bethany. It wouldn’t be long before the insistence for kids would begin.
Why can't she understand that I want us to build our own life on our own terms? If we take this money from them, we’d be answerable to them in some way. Perhaps not immediately, but I can already imagine my mother prattling away.
“After all we spent on your wedding, you can’t even make me a grandma …?” my mother’s voice plays in my head.
"Bethany ..." I begin. “You know how I feel about this. I want us to pay for our wedding on our own."
Bethany frowns, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "But darling, we can't possibly afford the kind of wedding I've always dreamed about on our salaries alone."
My gut twists. Of course. The kind of over-the-top affair she no doubt has in mind would drain even my substantial savings.
Bethany is still chattering about floral arrangements and seating charts. I rub my temple, wishing I could share my vision with her. But it's clear we want very different things.
The waiter comes and places the plates in front of us and I lazily push my food around, taking a bite or two of the steak, barely paying attention to Bethany’s words.
"Oh, before I forget ..." Bethany's voice snaps me back to attention. She grabs her clutch and pulls out her phone. "I have some ideas for the ring."
I feel my stomach drop as I glance at the ring prices Bethany circled. A million dollars plus, is she delusional?
"Bethany ..." I say slowly. "These rings are insane. I don't have this kind of money."
She glares at me, her pretty face twisting into a scowl. "Why not? Your family is loaded!"
"But it's not my money," I try to explain. "I want to make my own way."
Bethany rolls her eyes. "Don't give me that. You've always relied on your parents. Why stop now that it comes to me?"
I shake my head in disbelief. "I thought you understood. I'm trying to build a new life."
"Oh please," she snaps. "Stop pretending to be something you're not. We both know you're just a rich boy playing at being normal. I want the ring I deserve."
Her words sting. Is that really all she sees me as? A walking trust fund?
"I ... I can't believe you're saying this," I stammer.
Bethany examines her manicure. "Wake up, Alex. If you won't step up, I'll find someone who will."
“Bethany, please.” I try talking some sense into her. I reach across and take her hand. “I thought we had discussed this when we first started talking about getting married, remember? I showed you my grandmother’s ring, and you said you loved it.” I trace the outlines of the box I have in my coat pocket. I was planning to give it to her tonight.
“What? That old ugly thing? No way would I be caught wearing that in public.”
“Bethany,” I gasp. “That ring has immense sentimental value to me.”
"You're pathetic," Bethany hisses, her voice dripping with contempt. "What kind of man can't even buy a decent ring for the woman he claims to love?"
Her cruel words cut through me like a knife. This is not the sweet, caring woman I thought I knew.
"I wanted to build a life together, not just buy you expensive things," I reply, struggling to keep my voice even.
Bethany lets out a sharp laugh. "Don't make me laugh. You're just a miser pretending he's too good for his family's money."
I feel my sadness turning to anger now.
"I wanted a partner, not a trophy wife," I snap.
Bethany's eyes flash with rage. "How dare you!" she shrieks. "I'm a prize! Any man would be lucky to have me."
I shake my head in disgust. "You're no prize, Bethany. You're selfish, materialistic, and vain."
She gasps, outraged. "Better than a pathetic loser like you! We're done."
Bethany grabs her purse and storms out, leaving me shell-shocked. I slump back in my seat, grief and relief warring within me. This spoiled, entitled woman is nothing like the girl I fell in love with. How could I have been so blind? She only cares about status and money.
I don't know what comes next, but I know this: I won't let my parents control my life anymore. It's time I do things my way.
I sit alone at the table, the remains of the extravagant dinner spread out before me. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside me. I feel so betrayed, so used. But I also feel ... relieved, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. No more trying to be the perfect son or the ideal fiancé. No more relationships sanctioned by my parents.
This is the second woman from their circle of friends that they encouraged me to date. “Bethany comes from an illustrious family,” my father had roared. “Just imagine what could happen if you two got married! Her father might even invest in our company!”
I must say, this one ended better than the last. At least Bethany wasn’t busy cheating on me at our rehearsal dinner like my ex-fiancé did.
Correction. My first ex-fiancé.
I think of my grandmother's ring tucked away in my pocket, the modest heirloom I'd wanted to give Bethany, which she had callously rejected. That ring symbolizes what I really want - a partner to share my dreams with, not a trophy to show off.
From this day forward, I vow to live my life on my own terms. No more dutifully following the path my parents laid out for me. I don't need my parents’ money or approval. I have enough to make it on my own. From now on, I'll pursue my passion and find love on my own terms. That is, if I do. Maybe I'll never find love, because from what I’ve seen so far, my belief in relationships has dwindled to urban mythology.
Love probably doesn’t even exist.
The idea is painful, and for some reason, it sends a fury through me. I stand up and kick back my chair, leaving a wad of cash on the table.
“Sir.” The waiter follows with the money. “It’s already paid for.”
But I ignore him, choosing the fastest exit possible, wanting to forget all about tonight.
Chapter 2
Chloé
The shrill beeping of my alarm clock jolts me awake. I groan and roll over, slapping at the annoying device until it finally goes silent. Bleary-eyed, I peer out the window next to my bed. The first rays of dawn are just starting to peek over the horizon, bathing the fields in a soft golden glow.
I sigh, knowing it's time to start my day. As I shuffle downstairs to put in my token hour of chores to feed the cows, I can't help but feel a knot in my stomach. Things have been tough around here lately. Our dairy output has been way down, and the cows don't seem as healthy as they used to be. I know Mom and Dad are worrying about the upcoming visitation from the Farmology rep.
Fifteen minutes later, I step outside into the crisp April air. I breathe deeply and try to shake off my anxiety. The cows raise their heads, watching me expectantly.
"All right, ladies, time to eat," I say, patting Daisy on the neck as I make my way to the hay storage.
Finishing up, I make my way back to the house. As I enter the kitchen, I find Mom and Dad already seated at the table, drinking their coffee.
"Morning," I say, pouring myself a cup.
"Morning, sunshine," Dad replies, but his smile seems forced. Mom just gives me a weak nod, her eyes clouded with worry.
I take a seat across from them. "So ... that Farmology rep is coming next week?"
Dad sighs heavily. "Yeah. Says he wants to analyze our operations and maximize efficiency. But we all know they're just looking for an excuse to cut our contract."
"Can they really do that?" I ask. "I mean, we've been supplying them for years."
"Doesn't seem to matter these days, now that they've gone public," Mom adds bitterly. "All they care about is their bottom line and keeping their shareholders happy. If our output doesn't improve ..."
She trails off, but we all know what she's implying. If Farmology pulls out, we'll be in serious trouble. Dairy farming is all we know. We might have to sell chunks of our land to stay afloat while we figure something else out.
"Well, maybe this guy can actually help," I offer, trying to sound optimistic. "Maybe he'll have some ideas on how to get the cows healthier and increase milk production."
"I hope so, kiddo," Dad says. "We could really use some guidance. Because if we lose this contract, we might be forced to sell and –"
His voice cracks and he looks away. I know that some things are just too painful to say, so I don’t force him. Mom reaches over to squeeze his hand as tears glisten in her eyes. I feel a lump form in my throat.
I hate seeing my parents like this.
No matter what it takes, I'm determined to help them get the farm back on track. I won't let some corporate suit take away everything my family has worked for. There has to be a solution. And I'll do whatever I can to find it.
I'm shaken from my thoughts by a sudden commotion outside. There's shouting, cows mooing, and the unmistakable rattle of an old farm truck.
"What in the world?" Dad mutters, getting up from the table.
We hurry to the front porch, where we're met by the hilarious sight of our neighbor’s son, Matthias, trying to wrangle a runaway cow out of the back of his pickup. The ornery bovine clearly has other plans, dodging and weaving out of his grasp.
"Dang blasted critter!" Matthias yells in frustration.
Unable to contain themselves, Mom and Dad burst out laughing. The tension from before ceases.
"Having some trouble there, Matthias?" Dad calls out.
"Oh, just out for my morning jog with Betsy here," Matthias jokes back, panting from exertion.
I can't help giggling too.
Betsy the cow finally jumps out from the truck on her own and trots up onto our lawn.
"Whoa now, girlie, let's not cause these nice folks any more grief," he croons. "Let's get you back with the rest of your family.
Matthias finally manages to guide Betsy back to the others with Dad’s help.
"Sorry about that, folks. I swear I'll have that fence mended so your cattle can't come onto my land no more."
"Don't you worry," Dad replies. "You know where to find us if that one gives you more trouble."
This draws more laughter from Matthias.
"Don't you worry. I've got a special touch with the ladies." He winks at me.
I politely smile back. As sweet as he is, Matthias has been trying to court me for months, ever since he moved back here, never seeming to take the hint that I'm just not interested.
My parents head inside to get dressed for the day, and I take a deep breath as Matthias saunters over, leaning against the porch railing beside me.
His eyes twinkle as he looks at me, and he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. I freeze, surprised by the sudden gesture of intimacy.
"You are as pretty as a peach tree in springtime, Chloé," he murmurs. "What do you say I take you out to dinner tonight at The Broiler? We could have ourselves a real nice time."
I gently take his hand and move it away from my face. "Oh Matthias, you're very sweet, but I'm just so busy right now trying to get my dental practice up and running." I keep my tone light. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.
"Aw shucks, I understand," he says, looking disappointed. "Can't blame a fella for trying."
He tips his cap again and ambles back to his truck. I feel a pang of guilt for brushing him off, but I know I made the right choice. Right now, my focus needs to be on my career and helping my family. Romance will just have to wait.
I watch Matthias drive off with his truck kicking up plumes of dust along the dirt road. Though I don't share his romantic feelings, I truly admire his persistence and easygoing nature.
Sighing, I turn and head back inside the farmhouse with my thoughts drifting to the struggles weighing on my family. I wish I could do more to help them right now, but building my new dental practice in town has drained most of my savings. I'm determined to make it a success and eventually earn enough to support the dairy farm too.
As I enter the kitchen, the smell of fresh biscuits reminds me of simpler times, back when I was just a barefoot farm girl with dreams of entering the medical field and becoming a dentist. Now at twenty-eight, those dreams are finally coming true, even if the road ahead looks rocky.
I just have to keep the faith that things will work out – both for myself and for the family I love.
Chapter 3
Alex
The plane is a sardine can of humanity. I wedge myself into seat 32B, jam my knees up against the seat in front of me, and try to get comfortable. Yeah, right. I'm 6'2" and this seat was designed for someone half my size.
Up ahead, a baby wails. The engines rumble. The plane takes off, and I stare out the window at the tarmac sliding past.
I chose this. I chose to fly economy, despite my parents' protests. I don't need their money or their private jets and first-class tickets. I need to do this on my own terms.
My mind drifts back to last week's blowout argument. Mother had shrieked that I was throwing away my future and father stared at me with a disappointed scowl. When I told them I was calling off the wedding and canceling the fancy country club reception, they’d lost it.
Mother dabbed at her eyes with a monogrammed handkerchief. “Look. We can find someone else for you. Martin’s daughter just got back from Oxford and – “
“Mom, enough.” I’d put a stop to the madness. "Just look at what happened with Cathy. Look what happened with Bethany. I'm done. I no longer want to get married just because you think it's the right thing to do. I need to figure out my future myself."
"You're making a huge mistake!" she screeched.
Maybe I am. But staying in that suffocating world of wealth and privilege would have been a bigger one. I had to get out.
The plane accelerates, pressing me back in my seat. Below, the landing strip blurs. The wheels leave the ground and we climb skyward.
New York shrinks into a glittering toy city, then disappears from view. Something clenches in my chest. Sadness? Regret? I'm not sure. But I know one thing: there's no going back now.
I'm doing this. I'm going to live life on my way, even if it means starting from scratch. No more handouts or expectations. Just me, making my own decisions.
Perham, Minnesota, here I come.
***
