Just You & Me: The Big Apple Billionaires Series, #1

By Evelyn Jeannie Hall

Billionaire investment banker Benji Torres has everything most men dream of: wealth, business savvy, and the ability to get any woman he might want.

But Benji only wants one woman. Katrina Farrell, his childhood best friend. She was his confidant, the girl next door, and his unrequited obsession. Too bad when he left her nine years ago, he tore that friendship completely apart.

Now, he needs to tell her the truth.

That he's been in love with her all along.

Independent businesswoman Katrina Farrell has moved on with her life.

Just because she's relocated to the New York Metro area where Benji happens to live doesn't mean she trusts him. Him up and abandoning her hurt, and since that time she's suffered even worse tragedies. Why should she give him the benefit of the doubt?

Especially when she has painful secrets.

Secrets that could doom any relationship before it even starts.

Will Katrina and Benji open up to one another and repair what's been broken? Or are some wounds too deep to ever heal?

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evelyn Jeannie Hall
• Release date: Jul 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9798223104940

Book preview

Just You & Me

Big Apple Billionaires Series

Evelyn Jeannie Hall

Mi Alma Publishing

Table of Contents

Just You & Me

Copyright

Dedication:

Acknowledgements:

Timeline of the Big Apple Billionaires Series:

Author’s Note/Trigger Warnings:

One: Play It Cool

Two: Warping Backward Through Time

Three: Nervous Nelly

Four: Twisted Feelings

Five: Mixed Signals

Six: Opportunist

Seven: Iconic

Eight: New Job

Nine: No Offense

Ten: Kicked in the Nuts

Eleven: More Than Portfolios

Twelve: For Us to Be Us Again

Thirteen: Between the Shadow and the Soul

Fourteen: Inside the Elevator

Fifteen: Deprived Libido

Sixteen: Don’t Waste This Chance

Seventeen: Confused and Off-kilter

Eighteen: Halloween Dance

Nineteen: Brazenness

Twenty: Surreal

Twenty-One: Satiating Weekend

Twenty-Two: Love of My Life

Twenty-Three: Thanksgiving

Twenty-Four: Quickie

Twenty-Five: Awkward Meal

Twenty-Six: Quesitos and Snickers

Twenty-Seven: Not Easy

Twenty-Eight: Warning Signs

Twenty-Nine: Double Delivery

Thirty: Nada

Thirty-One: Zigging and Zagging

Thirty-Two: Damaged Goods

Thirty-Three: Seriously Wrong

Epilogue: Eight Months Later

Copyright

Copyright © 2021 by Evelyn Jeannie Hall

Photo credit Christian Buehner and Kai Pilger via Unsplash

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, duplicated, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage or retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any and all references to actual places, events or locations is only intended for the purposes of storytelling. Any and all references to organizations, products, or brands with trademarks are used for purposes of realism within the story only and are used fictitiously. No infringement of the owner’s trademarks is intended.

Dedication:

To my beloved hubby , always and forever the reason I believe in and write romance. I love you, babe.

Acknowledgements:

Writing may be a solo endeavor, but to do it effectively—and accurately—two heads are always better than one. I’d like to offer my sincerest thanks to Andrea Gonzalez for helping Benji Torres sound authentic. I am not a native Spanish speaker or bilingual, even though Benji with his Puerto Rican heritage is , and Andrea assisted me with all the Spanglish usage. Andrea, I appreciate you so much for helping me bring Benji to life. You’re the best!

Timeline of the Big Apple Billionaires Series:

Just You & Me , Katrina and Benji’s story starts nine years ago and then catches up to the present day. 

Just This Once, Lacey and Zane’s story, happens six months afterwards.

Just Us, Elizabeth and Sean’s story, begins a little over a year after Lacey and Zane’s book.

Just Stay, Chelsea and Wyatt’s story, occurs just over a year after the events of Elizabeth and Sean’s book and two months after Rookie and Tobias’s.

Just Want More, Rookie and Tobias’s story, overlaps with the epilogue of Elizabeth and Sean’s book, then continues from there.

Author’s Note/Trigger Warnings:

This story is intended only for those 18 and older. It contains multiple sexual love scenes and profanity. There are off page mentions of domestic abuse, miscarriage, opiate use, and suicide. Loss is also a prevalent theme throughout this story and shapes both main characters. All that said, I guarantee there will be light moments, fun times, and a happily ever after. Hope you enjoy it!

Thanks for reading,

Evelyn Jeannie Hall 

One: Play It Cool

Katrina Farrell tightened her grip on the oaken urn in her grasp, glancing down at the photograph affixed to it. "We’re here , Mom. Can you believe it?"

There it was. Gleaming like a jewel. The Big Apple.

Finally.

Wrapping her thin sweater more tightly around her, she scrutinized the attic apartment she and her sisters had chosen to rent. A few boards along the front exterior appeared warped and a bit worse for wear. In the grand scheme of things, though, who cared? A little water damage and peeling paint didn’t amount to dealbreakers. The exorbitant real estate prices of Jersey City, New Jersey might be more troublesome, but the cost of this place came out lower than anywhere they’d looked in Manhattan.

Katrina, with the help of her identical triplet sisters, would make it work.

They’d come all the way from their tiny hometown of Butterfield, Missouri for their mother’s sake. Chérie Farrell had wanted to live in the Greater New York Metropolitan Area for most of her life but had never been given the opportunity. Now, her daughters were there in her stead. The thought opened a hole in Katrina’s chest and made her eyes hot and stingy.

For all the good reasons and all the bad.

She turned and squinted down the street. If she strolled to the end, she could make out the swirling waters of the Hudson River, the scalloped suspension lines of the George Washington Bridge, and even Lady Liberty herself.

This was as close as they could get to achieving their mother’s dream. Even if it might be too little too late.

But it couldn’t be too late. She knew her mother was there with her, witnessing this in spirit. She could feel her, almost hear her voice. What she wouldn’t do to hear that voice again. Katrina missed her so goddamn much it was hard to breathe.

The funeral home had ordered this wooden box special for the Farrell family, memorializing their mother with a special image set into its top. The picture had been taken when Katrina and her sisters were five, and of course, Chérie had dressed them in matching frilly dresses. This photograph had been her mom’s favorite, so she’d known it would be the one she’d want to commemorate her life.

Lacey traipsed by holding two cat carriers filled with three cats. You coming?

Right behind you, Katrina promised.

The second born and younger than Katrina by a mere ten minutes, Lacey was the most free-spirited and boisterous of the three of them. She could also be a drifter and well, if Katrina was honest, a little flakey. After traipsing all over Europe for four years right out of high school, Lacey had applied to take some undergrad courses a few times but couldn’t seem to stick with them. Since then, she’d bounced like a tumbleweed from job to job and man to man.

Once upstairs, Katrina placed her mother’s ashes on a corner shelf. Elizabeth, the baby, younger than her by a whole twenty-five minutes, silently scrubbed bleach over the few feet of cabinetry and countertops along the wall that served as their kitchen, her wedding band still gleaming on her left hand. As the most domestic of them, Elizabeth had married young to a truck driver named Glen Yates. When he’d jackknifed his semi just over a year ago, sending it and himself over the edge of a ravine, it’d nearly destroyed her.

Katrina could relate. While her husband hadn’t died, he had morphed into someone she’d never imagined. Being with him had gone from scary to life-threatening in the space of a heartbeat. What transpired near the end of that marriage had fucked her up in more ways than one. Yet all that lay in her past, and Katrina intended to keep it there.

She and her sisters had recently turned thirty, which meant beginning a new decade along with their new lives. So, while this move had originated with their mother’s wishes, it also meant a fresh start, one all three of them badly needed.

Heard from Benji yet? Elizabeth asked without breaking her cleaning frenzy.

His last text said he’d be here within the hour, Katrina said, annoyed by the frisson of anxiety that washed over her. 

Benjamin Torres might be a bonafide urbanite now, but a couple of decades prior he’d been the boy next door. He’d also been her dearest and most devoted friend. Up until he hadn’t been. Nonetheless, Katrina looked forward to catching up with him.

Mostly.

She hadn’t seen her former best friend in nine long years. It felt like a lifetime ago and like yesterday simultaneously. All her most pleasant childhood memories were linked to him in some form or fashion. That was true of her adolescent and college memories, as well.

Being a triplet meant she’d had two other playmates built into any situation. But when Benji had wanted to do something with her one on one, he’d grabbed her hand, smiled lopsidedly and said, Let’s go. Just you and me.

She could recall the raspiness of that baritone voice of his as if he were standing right beside her. From the ages of three to twenty-one the two of them had been joined at the hip, and back then she’d believed it would always be that way.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t been.

Since that time he’d become some bigwig investment banker, and though Katrina would never say so out loud, this intimidated the hell out of her. The kid who’d run barefoot by her side after they’d eaten their fill of wild blackberries had transformed into someone she didn’t even know.

Him tracking her down through social media and contacting her out of the blue had staggered her.

Katrina gazed out the drafty attic window and sifted through her recollections of him. What would she do if the Benji who showed up today had nothing in common with the boy she remembered?

WHEN A SLEEK SILVER BMW SUV pulled up in front of their humble abode fifteen minutes before Benji was due to arrive, Katrina didn’t instantly react. They lived at a busy intersection with an enormous amount of traffic, so while she’d spotted the vehicle, she didn’t pay it much attention until it parallel parked in a space nearby.

Until a recognizable figure emerged from the driver’s side and aimed himself toward their stairs.

Katrina’s breath caught the instant she saw her former best friend. He wore short leather boots, navy jeans, and a tan Henley that complimented his ebony hair and golden-brown skin. She continued to hold that breath as he ascended the steps, then laughed at herself. When she’d been younger, this person had been as close to her as her sisters were.

It seemed silly to be so uptight and antsy about this reunion. Yet, her heart pounded like a set of bongo drums as she watched Lacey jump up and open their door.

There he is, the man of the hour, her younger sibling proclaimed, beaming at him. He grinned back, though his eyes narrowed at her as if deciphering a clue.

Lace? That you?

"Yay. She clapped her hands. You can still tell us apart." She rushed forward, yanking him into a hug before ruffling his flawlessly cut hair.

Elizabeth materialized behind Lacey but didn’t say anything. Since losing Glen, she’d grown much quieter and more circumspect, though she did offer Benji a slight quirk of her lips and a one-handed wave. In their emails, Katrina had relayed the most significant updates in their lives, so he knew about Elizabeth’s recent widowhood. He knew about their mom, too.

Hey, E. He used the shortened version of her name.

He had a habit of that, nicknaming people. Lacey became Lace, Elizabeth E, and he’d never called Katrina anything but...

Kat? You gonna come over here? Or are you gonna make me chase you down and give you noogies?

Katrina remembered him rubbing his knuckles on her scalp, though he hadn’t done that since they were about ten. That was how he addressed her after all this time? Really?

If you give me noogies, that gives me the right to wet Willie you in your sleep.

Now, see, you never did fight fair, he countered, humor in his voice. His dark cocoa eyes sparkled, and his full lips offered her a genuine smile—the crooked one she knew so well—and it was as if no time had passed at all. For one spellbinding second, it felt as if Katrina had her old Benji back.

Until she went up to him, and he looped his arms around her.

The initial thing that caught her off guard was his physical presence—had he always been this tall and solid?—his subtle aftershave reminded her of how the air smelled right after a good rain. But then, an intriguing phenomenon occurred. An almost visceral awareness passed between them, something that made Katrina’s insides clench and relax in concert. The sensation felt soothingly familiar yet electrifying as it sizzled beneath her skin and shot desire through her veins. Her pulse kicked hard enough she could feel it all over, causing her breasts to grow heavy and the space between her legs to heat.

This had happened only one other time in Benji’s company, a time he remained unaware of, and a time she tried hard not to think about.

As she released him, her eyes traveled up to the scar bisecting his right eyebrow, a slim horizontal line of damaged tissue representing an injury from one of their many youthful escapades. That was the same. But so much else had changed. He’d always stayed clean-shaven in the past, but now sported a tidy layer of scruff along his square jaw and clefted chin.

He’d been a scrawny kid and a thin and geeky teenager, yet as she scrutinized the broad chest and shoulders he’d adopted since then... Jesus Christ Superstar, someone had been eating his Wheaties. And apparently building all his muscles, too, since the rest of him had filled out just as nicely.

Katrina felt overwhelmed by him, to be honest, by this difference between Benjamin Torres the boy and Benjamin Torres the man.

As she studied him more closely, she noticed smudges under his eyes. As jaw droppingly well, buff as he’d become, he looked... tired. It made her want to reach for him again, to reestablish contact. She also felt this odd yearning to run her fingers over his chin and feel those whiskers against her palms. To push her hands under his shirt to familiarize herself with those new muscles of his up close and personal.

It could’ve been nothing more than an illusion, but he seemed as affected by their proximity as she was. His eyes had widened as if on sudden alert, as if he might not be as confident as he’d appeared when he sauntered in. Maybe she hadn’t been the only one who’d fretted about this meetup, or alone in feeling the strength of this magnetic pull between them. If they had this in common, it would make her reaction to him feel less inappropriate. Less humiliating. Less like he’d known what she had to offer all those years ago and had left in spite of it.

The phrase he’d once said to her floated to the forefront of her mind.

Let’s go, Kat. Just you and me.

Just her and him.

Yet it hadn’t been just her and him for nearly a decade. Regardless of whether her reckless indiscretion was to blame or not, they’d become estranged as friends. Therefore, the awareness she’d felt could well be one-sided. If they were going to be able to restore the bond she’d once treasured, she would have to keep her body’s fiery response to him under wraps.

She’d need to play it cool.

For both their sakes.

Two: Warping Backward Through Time

When Kat backed away from him, Benjamin missed her immediately. Scratching at his eyebrow scar, he poured over her features like a thirsty man might ogle a mountain spring. Her coppery red hair curled around her head like a halo, falling to a few inches below her shoulders and shimmering in the sunlight that slanted through the nearby window. Her complexion reminded him of a sculpture carved from alabaster, while still looking soft to the touch.

Not that he ever had touched it. Not like he’d wanted to, anyway. He’d never allowed himself the pleasure, no matter how often he’d fantasized about it. Even after she put some distance between them, he could still smell that floral essence of hers. That specific cherry blossom fragrance that said Kat. The scent was so integral to his past that it made his stomach ache.

There’d never been a time when Benjamin didn’t straight-up adore her. As a neighbor. As the girl next door. As a friend. As family. They’d treated each other like siblings for much of their childhoods, but as a teenager, he’d figured out that brotherly wasn’t a descriptor he could use when he thought of her.

Yet, she’d never felt any such attraction toward him.

She dropped her brilliant blue gaze to the floor and raised a hand to her throat. When she rubbed at the dip in her clavicle over her light sweater—a sign of fretfulness that he remembered so clearly—his gaze zeroed in on the movement. His mind filled with memories.

It was like warping backward through time.

No one had called him Benji in years, not in what felt like an eternity. His father had referred to him as Benjamín with his heavy Puerto Rican accent, so as a kid that was how he thought of himself. It’d been Chérie Farrell who’d first used the name Benji.

He’d probably only been about three or four at the time and had already made fast friends with her daughters. Chérie had claimed Benjamín to be too much of a mouthful and had rechristened him right then and there. He hadn’t minded. He’d been immensely fond of the Farrell matriarch.

He’d been immensely fond of her daughters, as well. Kat, most of all.

While he’d played with each of the triplets growing up, Kat had been the most like a tomboy and therefore, the most willing to get into trouble with him. He remembered her running by his side when they were seven, hearing their neighbor yelling because they’d used his vegetable garden as an obstacle course.

Kat had been his partner in crime many times after that. They’d thrown dirt clods over his dad’s chain link fence when they were nine, muddy grit covering them from head to foot. At fourteen, they’d skipped algebra class to sneak up to the roof to eat Snickers bars and watch the calves play in the pasture next to the school. They’d given each of the cows a funny name as well as a full-fledged and ludicrous backstory.

Those had been the days.

At seventeen, he’d taken Kat to the prom. When she’d stepped out of her room in that glittering turquoise dress that made her eyes glow, he’d barely been able to think as his dick had swollen to three times its normal size. Somehow, he’d kept from making a fool of himself and lifted her wrist so he could attach the corsage of white roses he’d bought for her. He’d had to adopt the strategy of only taking glimpses of her that night. Seeing her cleavage and bare shoulders as if on offer to him would’ve stripped him of his sanity, otherwise.

He had to remind himself over and over that she was his friend, his best friend. And he couldn’t jeopardize that, even when he felt tempted.

Their four years of college off alone together had tested his restraint in every way conceivable. The main thing that kept him in check was how busy his classwork had stayed. That and the occasional hookup with another coed. He only indulged in these when Kat went on dates with other men. He’d needed this outlet for his frustrations, but those forays with other girls never lasted long.

None of those women could hold a candle to the girl he’d been raised with.

Then, there’d been this bizarre pall that had fallen over them right before they graduated from Southeastern Missouri State University. He’d asked her if she was okay, and she’d said yes. Before he could delve any further into whatever had upset the balance between them, his brother died.

Losing Sebastian had cast Benjamin into a chasm of agony, grief, and crippling