Shelter With A Billionaire

Two Years Later.

"Look, Christine, I drew you a picture last night." Eight-year-old Kimiko held up a paper for me.

A smile broke out from my lips. "Aww, isn't that sweet?" But I frowned as I stared at the paper. I was in a wedding dress holding a bouquet of roses with a wild haircut.

A knot formed in my throat. Two years ago I would have been Mrs. Mike Russo, but men were the least of my problems right now. The Home always relied on funding and donations; some days were better than others. 

We all sat in the dining room having breakfast.

Beth, leaned to check it out, broke into a laugh. "The groom looks scared to death."

I narrowed my eyes at the fourteen-year-old goth queen. "Well, thanks for your input, Annabeth, and thank you, Miko; I love it, and I hope to meet this nice man someday."

Kimiko smiled. "And then our family will be complete with a Daddy."

"Wishful thinking." Tommy coughed under his breath. 

Laughter broke out at the table. I thought I smelled something but brushed it off.

I rolled my eyes, then widened them. "Ha ha...whoa, wait a second...four, five, six? Where's Noah?" I asked as I counted the pack and spotted Noah's empty chair. I took a sip of my morning coffee. "Tommy?"

Tommy's eyes shifted. "Uh, I haven't seen him."

I glared at Tommy, "What do you mean? You're his roommate."

"Maybe he ran away again." Beth suggested. "Because I kind of noticed he disappeared during the second act of The Graduate." 

I shut my eyes. Noah, who recently turned seventeen last month, made it a habit of running away a few times, increasing my blood pressure, and coming back home when he was out of cash. I'm going to kill him.

"Is Noah going to be okay?" Kimiko asked with worry as she held her stuffed pink toy, Bunny the Bunny. 

I offered a smile. "Of he will." 

I took out my cell phone and dialed his number, but it went straight to voicemail. Dammit, this kid would be the death of me. 

"Probably make it to Mexico this time." Jay speculated as he bit into his toast and fried eggs. 

"Yeah," Daphne scoffed. "If he knows where Mexico actually is on the map."

I dropped everyone off at George Washington High and called goodbyes; they walked off in different directions as though they didn't live together. I sighed and drove off. 

My cell phone began to ring. 

"Frank," I called my last name. 

"This is Detective Rowley; we've got a young man in custody who claims to be one of yours," the voice replied.

My mind raced, and my mind pounded against my chest as I pulled to a traffic stop."Nope," I gave a fake laugh. "I just dropped everyone off at school." 

"Noah Juan Miguel Garcia," the detective replied. "Ring any bells?"

Rachel's eyes widened. "Nope, Noah's an angel."

Detective Rowley did not sound pleased. "We've got him on underage drinking charges. Care to come down and collect your little angel?" Then he hung up.

I groaned as the traffic light changed to green. I stepped on the gas. "You little mother—!"

Ten minutes later, I arrived at the precinct and was directed to the detective's desk.

This was the fifth time this year Noah had been arrested for doing something stupid.

"Detective?" I said. "What happened?"

Detective Rowley nodded. "Garcia was found with his group of friends, charged with underage drinking. They're lucky no one was hurt. He'll get community service and a warning since he wasn't behind the wheel."

I swallowed with relief. "Oh, thank God...I mean, how awful."

Detective James nodded, but his eyes remained skeptical. "You look a little young to be in social work."

The comment was equally flattering and insulting. I was only twenty-six. I scoffed. "And this is important to note why?"

"Just making an observation, you look like hell." He told me.

I looked down at my sweatshirt and jeans. "Can you release him now?"

"Alright, if I ever see you drinking again, you're going to jail." Detective James warned Noah after he was brought out. 

Noah nodded with an innocent look and spoke with sarcasm. "You've changed my life."

The detective glared after us as we hurried out the building for the parking lot. Noah stunk of sweat and beer. 

I grabbed Noah's left ear, and he howled. "Are you out of your mind?!" I sneered. "Get in the damn car!" I pointed at the minivan. 

Noah sighed as I began to drive us home.

"Of all the kids, you have given me the worst of headaches, Noah. You're seventeen for crying out loud; you should be thinking of college, a career, and not screwing with a bunch of rich kids whose folks can buy them a spot in the Ivy League." I snapped. "And you wonder why you haven't been adopted." I caught myself before the words spilled out. 

"Gee, thanks a lot." He murmured.

"Noah..."

"I'm going to be eighteen years old, and I don't give a shit—"

"Language."

"Crap about parents. So just kick me out, Christine."

I scoffed at his gaslighting. "Fat chance, Garcia. I have at least a year to put you back on the right path, and until then, you'll follow my rules."

I glanced at him. His lips curled down, and he pushed his head against the window; his hearing aid was visible. I returned my eyes to the road.

The drive became silent as a fire truck zoomed past us, blaring the emergency siren.

"Huh? Wonder what the emergency is." I muttered since we were going in the same direction and apparently into the street where we lived. 

"Uh, Christine?" Noah sat up in alarm. "The house is on fire!"

I widened my eyes upon seeing flames.

 * * * * * * * *

Meanwhile, lying on a couch was a young woman drinking red wine as she watched the news footage of the fire incident on her TV. The manager had overlooked a faulty gas line. Luckily, no one was hurt.

"This is the perfect opportunity we've been looking for." She said it out loud. 

Her eyes locked on to Christine's image on the screen. "The plan is in motion."