The Rich Boy

by Scott, Kylie

  “Thank you,” says Beck.

  “Not a problem.”

  I stroke the stubble on Beck’s cheek and he instantly moves closer, pressing his mouth to mine. This is not a chaste kiss, but neither of us cares. Audience and his weird-ass relationship philosophies be damned. I can feel the eyes on us and it just doesn’t matter. His tongue strokes my own, his hand grabbing the back of my neck, holding me in place. As if I’m going anywhere. For all of his wanting to wait and playing it cool, there’s an element of control to him in this moment. And it’s hot as fuck. We’re both breathing heavily, caught up in the moment. My head goes light and my sex squeezes tight. I grip his upper arms, half just needing something to hold myself up. The other half of me is admiring how hard his body is beneath my touch. I want to rub up against him, explore him all over. Every time we get this close, stopping gets harder and harder. The tension in his body and fervor in his touch tell me he’s struggling too. In all honesty, the boy better be done with this waiting shit soon or else.

  When he draws back, his thumb wipes over my damp bottom lip. “Whatever you want, Alice.”

  Good God this man makes me smile. Meanwhile, Selah looks like she sucked on a lemon. Everything is as it should be.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Don’t be nervous,” says Beck. “You look beautiful.”

  “I’ll be nervous if I want to. I just won’t let it stop me from doing anything.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  He stands beside me dressed in a tuxedo and a smile. And holy fucking hell does he wear them well. Not to mention the dark hair styled into a pompadour and hazel eyes I could stare into for days. Then there’s the warmth in those eyes when he looks at me…I might just swoon. I’m not sure if I’ve ever been truly seen before. Not like he sees me.

  “We could have stayed home and had sex,” I say.

  He grins. “You called our apartment home.”

  “You’re missing the point.”

  We arrived in a limousine, the first time I’ve been in one since prom. The gala is being held in the ballroom of a big hotel. Lots of ornate potted orchids and sparkling chandeliers. Selah and I had a robust discussion about what I’d wear. She wanted me in a sequined monstrosity and no way was that happening. In fact, I gave her the thing along with about half of the wardrobe contents to take back to Mac. For some reason, seeing all of the free space in the walk-in-closet soothed me big-time. Like maybe my life hasn’t been turned upside down (albeit in wonderful ways) and I still have a little control.

  That’s the great thing about anxiety. There’s always something to worry about. When things are going bad, they can always get worse. But when things are great, it can all be stolen from you at any moment plunging you into the darkness of the abyss. Sometimes I get really sick of the inside of my head.

  Everything is fine. I’ve got this. And I’m going to keep saying it until it’s the truth.

  I don’t normally wear dresses due to chub rub. Of course, you can get undershorts and other things to combat it, but I generally prefer pants. This, however, is a special occasion. The gown I chose is by Juan Carlos Obando, navy crepe (dark colors hide food stains), one shoulder and ankle length. It’s simple and elegant and I love it. Some sparkle is added by Gucci block heel silver sandals and a bangle of white gold and baguette-cut diamonds. There’re also beautiful diamond studs in my ears. I’m pretending they’re all fake, like rhinestones or crystals. Because otherwise there’s every chance I’d lose my shit over what they’re worth. Being a billionaire’s girlfriend is weird after so recently living on ramen noodles during the lean weeks.

  The other thing about this jewelry is that I could have sworn these pieces weren’t here yesterday. A string of pearls and matching stud earrings (my lifelong dream of being able to clutch my pearls can finally come true), a diamond pendant necklace, and a few other small things that probably cost a fortune have been placed in the closet. But not these. Maybe Selah just brought them over. I don’t know.

  At any rate, the lesson here is, you don’t need to be a size zero to look good. But money certainly doesn’t hurt. Especially with photographers roaming the place. For the society pages, I guess. We’re stopped several times on the way in. My cheeks hurt from smiling.

  A waiter escorts us to our table where Beck’s grandmother is already seated and holding court with Ethan sitting beside her. Sad to say he looks almost as good in his tux as his brother does. I’m not shallow, however, so I plan to keep right on disliking him. Our entrance earns more than its fair share of attention from the other guests. And I’m drawing quite a few admiring glances along with the curious ones, which is nice. It must be odd being an Elliot and having people watching you all of the time, being so invested in knowing what or who you’re doing. Some people need to get a life.

  Selah is seated at the next table beside a handsome young man. The look she gives me is resigned. Not a smile, but not a frown. The look she gives Beck, however, is wistful. Sad eyes and rounded shoulders. If I’d fucked up so badly with him I’d probably feel the same.

  “Your ex is here,” I say in a low voice to avoid being overheard.

  “To be expected. Her family are big donors for the hospital.”

  “Did she manage to corner you earlier at the apartment?”

  “Told her I wasn’t interested in anything she had to say.” His raises a brow. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He pulls out my seat for me ahead of the waiter, his gaze thoughtful. “You shouldn’t be.”

  “Reason doesn’t often count when it comes to emotions.” I sit, making sure my posture is perfect. The less cause I give Grandma & Co. to complain the better.

  Catherine breaks off her conversation with the silver fox sitting next to her. She looks glamorous in a black velvet gown. “Beck. Alice. You missed the appetizers. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming. Emma’s absence tonight is disappointing enough.”

  “She’s in Chicago on business,” says Ethan. “It couldn’t be avoided. You know that.”

  Catherine sniffs, unappeased.

  Beck delivers a swift kiss to his grandmother’s cheek, murmuring something to her (apologies, most likely), before taking his seat beside me. He takes my hand under the table as the woman on his other side immediately engages him in conversation. So this is how rich people do charity and party at the same time. Everything is sparkly and shiny and top of the line. There must be at least a few hundred people here.

  Five minutes later, Beck is still busy talking to the other woman so I guess I’ll just occupy myself. No problem.

  “You’ll have to excuse him,” says the woman sitting next to me. Ethan’s date. Her skin has a bronze hue, a perfect contrast to her red silk dress. “Beck’s used to everyone already knowing each other at these things. Whether it’s from the country club or the arts gala or Aspen.”

  I give her a polite smile.

  “Penny Hollis. I’m a lawyer at Elliot Corp.”

  “Alice Lawrence.”

  “You’re the new girl in town causing all of the fuss.”

  What am I even supposed to say to that?

  “Excuse me, miss.” The waiter reappears with a vodka, soda, and lime, saving me from coming up with a reply to Penny’s comment. Guess Beck ordered for me. I knew there were reasons I kept him around.

  This time my smile is far more believable. “Thank you.”

  “So the woman monopolizing your boyfriend’s attention is in investment at Elliot Corp. Next to her is a heart surgeon and her partner. Then there’s the property specialist who’s hoping to offload a penthouse onto Ethan,” she reports. “The bored-looking blonde is the trophy wife of the older gentleman trying to sell Catherine on something. He’s a big deal in media, out visiting from New York. And the rest you know.”

  “You attend these things often?” I ask.

  “Often enough.”

  The beautiful blonde with the sandy complexion s
ure does look bored, throwing back champagne at a steady rate.

  “If you marry for money you wind up earning it,” murmurs Penny. “She used to be a pro-golfer, but he made her give it up so she could fit in with his schedule and lifestyle. I wonder how she feels about that decision these days.”

  Meals are brought out. A cut of beef sits atop roast potatoes with some sort of Italian tomato sauce and asparagus. Beck and I have to stop holding hands in order to eat, but I don’t think the woman beside him stops talking long enough to actually get any food in her mouth. Her loss—the meal is spectacular. Beck shoots me a few quick smiles throughout all of this and that’s all I get. I try not to let it bother me. It’s another sink or swim situation and I have every intention of surviving and standing on my own.

  “How long have you been working for them?” I ask.

  Penny swallows her food, washing it down with a sip of red wine. “Going on a decade now.”

  “And you’re from Denver?”

  She nods. “Born and bred. It might be a big city, but it’s still a small town at heart. I can’t imagine living anywhere else. Have you had a chance to see much?”

  “Only Larimer Square so far.”

  “Get Beck to take you up into the mountains. That’s where the real beauty is.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Catherine gives me the occasional cool look, but I can deal with that. Given I am neither spilling my food nor dancing on the table, she really has nothing to complain about. Ethan ignores my existence entirely. Making it even odder that his date does not. Due to politics or politeness, I don’t know.

  “I’m just going to ask because that’s how we find things out,” says Penny. “Did Beck actually pick you up in a dive bar where he was working as a busboy?”

  “Ah…”

  “Because that’s what Ethan told me and honestly I’m still having a problem picturing it.”

  “You and Ethan are close?” I ask because having no idea what Beck does and doesn’t want known means a diversion is required. I’m not ashamed and neither do I want to lie. But he does business with these people. I’m not particularly gifted at manipulation or subterfuge. Games of strategy are lost on me. Avoidance, however, I can do. After all, I’ve been avoiding both the questions and hands of idiots with varying blood alcohol levels in bars for years.

  “We work together and we’re friends. We’re not an item though. I’m not foolish enough to attempt dating an Elliot.” Then she realizes what she’s said, and raises a manicured hand, the fingernails a perfect match for her dress. “Not that that’s any reflection on you, of course. If the busboy story is true, then you didn’t know the hornet’s nest you were stumbling into. One might even say he won you over under false pretenses.”

  I take my time, thinking things through. That the story of Beck and my courtship is being discussed around town leaves a sour taste in my mouth. However, there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. And what could I say here, really? I almost failed math, but my new boyfriend’s a billionaire? I’m a waitress and underachiever by choice and trade? Beck is dating down in the eyes of many. I understand. That I’d kick his ass and be out of here on the next plane if he didn’t treat me right regardless of any perceived inadequacies is between me and him. All of this is just further proof that making conversation sucks and people are the worst. Time to drink.

  Penny swirls the wine in her glass. “You have the discretion part down. They should give you points for that at least.”

  And I keep right on saying nothing because apparently it’s working well for me.

  “I’m going to take your silence for assent,” she finally declares. “Beck was always the black sheep of the family, but that’s something else. Good for him getting out and doing his own thing. Even if it was only for a short while.”

  As tempted as I am to kick him beneath the table and have him intercede, I don’t. When it comes to him, curiosity wins out as always. What’s the harm in letting the lady talk?

  “Of course, Jack pushed him too far. He never thought Beck would actually up and leave. None of them did. When the apron strings are lines of credit the pressure to obey the family and company can be extreme.” Gaze thoughtful, she stops talking to eat for a minute. “But now Catherine and Ethan are busily gathering their forces to show the board and the world a strong united front. And your boyfriend is part of that.”

  “Yes, he is,” I say, because duh.

  She looks over her shoulder to the table behind us where Selah is seated. The look Rachel’s assistant gives us is somewhere between dislike and distrust. Fair enough. Next her gaze goes to the talkative investment specialist on the other side of Beck. The one taking up all of his attention. She’s apparently no happier at this woman than she is with us. Interesting.

  “Lots of competition for your position, Alice,” says Penny. “I wish you the best of luck.”

  Instead of answering, I take a sip of my drink. Honest to God, I should win some sort of shutting-up award tonight. However, it’s better to say nothing than to stick my foot in it.

  “Everything okay?” asks Beck, sliding his hand up to the nape of my neck.

  “Everything is fine.”

  “Can I get you another drink?”

  “No.” I need my wits about me with this crowd. Loose lips sink ships and all that. “Thank you.”

  Waiters collect the dinner plates, replacing them with dessert. A dark chocolate ganache with raspberry pulp on the side. If anything, it’s a little too rich. Much like everyone present. Or maybe I’m just poor and judgey despite my new bling.

  Up on the stage, a woman welcomes everyone and thanks them for their donations before introducing Beck’s brother. Ethan rises from his seat and makes his way to the microphone to great applause. A picture of their recently deceased father appears on the big screen behind him. There’s no mistaking the family resemblance. Jack is just an older, more lean and lined version of his sons. Like Catherine and Ethan his eyes are ice blue, his gaze dignified and hard.

  “If I said my father was a saint I’d be lying,” begins Ethan.

  Startled laughter echoes through the room.

  Catherine does not look amused. Then again, she rarely does.

  “In fact, he’d probably haunt me for ruining his reputation,” Ethan continues. “Jack Elliot was a hardworking man who dedicated his life to expanding the empire his father had begun. His commitment and focus to this task were absolute, as any of you who knew him can attest. Family loyalty was everything to my father. That his children would grow to understand and appreciate the devotion and sacrifices it takes to be an Elliot, and to be a part of this community, and to go on to contribute in their own way. That was his ultimate goal and vision, and it’s what has brought us all here tonight. It’s my honor to announce that a new wing will be built in remembrance of my father and his commitment to this great city and its people.”

  Applause fills the ballroom.

  Ethan shakes the presenter’s hand along with several others. People from the hospital or city officials, perhaps. I don’t even want to imagine how much money a hospital wing would cost. But it’s nice to see them doing something with the money besides buying another mansion. Amazing to think they can just make the decision to save lives and impact so many. It’s hard to process what it would be like to have that much power.

  Music starts up and the presentation is over. Catherine nods graciously to words of praise from those nearby. It takes Ethan a while to return to the table due to all of the back slapping and handshaking going on.

  “Penny, good to see you,” says Beck, resting his arm on the back of my chair. Looking as devastating as ever in his tux. “I was hoping to get your opinion on the Amari contract. My brother’s keen, but I have some concerns.”

  They start to talk and I tune out, listening to the chamber orchestra. When Beck, Penny, and Ethan start discussing something about derivatives versus equities I decide it’s time for a break.

&nb
sp; Even the bathrooms are fancy with gray marble floors, walls, and bench tops. While I’m washing my hands, a woman around my own age introduces herself and asks me what school I went to. She seems somewhat perplexed when I tell her my local. Still, it’s nice to get away for a while and stretch my legs. Less so to be met by the lady investment specialist from the table on my way back out. Her smile is all sharp teeth. Guess we’re not going to be friends.

  “You’re Alice,” she says like this is news.

  I nod and try to edge around her, but she moves to block my escape. “You should know there’s at least six women here tonight that your boyfriend’s fucked. And those are just the ones I know about. He has a limited attention span. Once he gets his dick wet, it’s all over. Apparently, he’s a real animal in bed. But not so great when it comes to commitment. Look at poor Selah. She comes from one of the best families in town and he walked away without a second glance. So someone like you…let’s just say that your time should be up any minute now. Better enjoy it while it lasts.”

  “Really?” I ask in a skeptical tone.

  Her gaze snags on my diamond bracelet, lips twisting into a sneer. “That should come in handy. Nice and easy to hock back home in Cali, huh?”

  “Is that it?” I cross my arms. Confrontation in general kind of makes me want to puke. But here we go anyway. “Are you finished with your mean-girl takedown?”

  “Good question,” says a familiar deep male voice.

  “Ethan.” The woman’s eyes go as round as dinner plates. “I didn’t see you there.”

  “You’re done for the night, Jenna.”

  “What? But I was just—”

  “Leave,” he orders. “Now.”

  And the girl all but runs.

  Ethan watches her go in silence before turning back to me. Still not wearing his happy face. But at this stage, I’m not sure he even does that emotion. “Tell me, Alice, do you dance?”

  “I sway back and forth in time to the music if that counts?”