I walked over to him as gracefully as I could. I heard a noise from Misha and realized that she was trying to cover up a giggle. I shot her a cold look and she promptly exploded in giggles.
My lips tightened and I moved to snatch the shoe from Jude’s hands. He pulled his hand back at the last minute and said, “Hey, no snatching. Play nice. I’m sure you were raised better than that.”
I rolled my eyes and snatched the shoe out of his hand. “Thanks. Now go.”
“We need to talk,” he said trailing behind me as I made my way to my room.
“We have nothing to talk about...”
I then shot a glare at Misha, “I can’t believe you let him in.”
Her eyes grew wide in disbelief and she said pointedly, “I can’t believe you let him in... either... if you know what I mean.”
“Nice, Misha. Real mature,” I said, knowing I was misdirecting my anger. She wasn’t the one I was mad at. No, only Jude deserved my indignation and anger, so I turned on him.
I poked him in the chest with my finger. “You need to leave right now! I’ve had enough of you and your shenanigans. Ever since I met you I’ve gotten into one stupid situation after another and you know what the common denominator is?”
“Uhh—”
“You!” I said, poking him with more force. “I wish I hadn’t said yes to your father, because it’s been one nightmare after another.”
“And I’m to blame for that? I’ve spent the last 24 hours saving you from yourself.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“And you’re a hypocrite. You pretend to be all respectable and saintly, when you’re just like the rest of us... except you’re undersexed and uptight. Well, not anymore. Not after last night.”
I smacked him across the chest with one of the shoes. “How dare you judge me! You don’t even know me. You’re just a spoiled rich boy with too much time on his hands. I mean look at you, your father is dying and where are you? Here! In Vegas! Partying! Preying on innocent women—”
“Innocent?” he spat out. “You’re far from innocent. You had your hands down my pants before we even left the bar.”
“Liar!” I yelled, but instantly felt guilty. He was right. As soon as he said it I remembered doing it.
“Stop being a prude,” he said hotly. “God, I like you better when you’re drunk.”
"I can barely stomach you when I’m sober so I’m sure drunk me was a real peach.”
“You’re less of a drab, self-pitying shrew when you’re drunk.”
God, I wanted to hit him again.
“Pity? You want to talk about pity? I only had drinks with you because I pitied you. I said to myself, ‘What type of guy goes to Vegas alone and follows his dad’s assistant around?’ A loser, that’s who,” I said, stomping further into my room. I tried to close the door and he caught it. He looked angry. I determinedly didn’t back down from his glare and met it head on.
“Oh, that’s rich, so I’m the loser? That makes me just your type then. That’s your specialty, losers, right? Date a loser to make yourself feel better so that you don’t have to deal with your own shortcomings and insecurities. When are you going to stop being a scared little girl and grow up?”
“You’re one to talk, a washed-up soccer player living off of daddy’s money, too busy whoring to hold down a real job. Yeah, you’re definitely one to talk.”
“That’s what you think of me?”
“Wrong. I don’t think about you at all.”
“Funny, that’s not what you said last night.”
Bits and pieces of our night together between the sheets flashed across my mind. I felt embarrassment starting to replace my anger, but I needed my anger, otherwise Jude would know just how much last night’s events had unnerved me.
“Last night I was drunk. You got me drunk.” My accusation was false. I remembered ordering more and more drinks at the bar. It had all been my doing and I remember distinctly that Jude had told me to slow down and I had scoffed at him and yelled, “We’re in Vegas, baby!”
He called me out on my lie. “That’s bull and you know it.”
Angrily, I tried to shut the door again and he caught it.
“Just leave me alone!”
“Trust me, Lacey, I would love to, but we need to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you. And I don’t want to hear anything you have to say to me.” I was ready to cry and I needed him to go away. I wanted to be alone with my feelings. I couldn’t handle being around him now. And so in a last ditch effort, I got mean.
“Get out. I don’t want to see you again. I made a mistake. I felt sorry for you so I made a mistake. Leave me alone.”
“Sorry for me, huh?” I could hear the hurt in his voice, but I couldn’t back down now. Apparently, I didn’t need to. He was done fighting with me.
Without another word, he turned around and walked away, tossing something down on the chair as he did. He disappeared through the door and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“That was painful to watch. Why were you so mean? It was just a one-night stand. Been there, done that.” Misha said picking up whatever Jude had tossed down.
I ignored her question and asked about Emmaline. “She’s not up yet? She’s normally up before us.”
“She had a late night too. You two losers pretty much ditched me at the same time. I caught a taxi and sat here and ate chocolate all night. You guys made me feel so good about myself...” her voice trailed off as she turned her attention to the papers in her hand.
“Late night? Seriously... like with a man?” I was surprised. As far as I knew, Emmaline hadn’t dated anyone since Colin.
Misha didn’t answer and instead seemed to be focused on whatever was in her hand. “Umm... you might need to sit down for this.”
“What is it?” I asked warily. Something about her tone made me reluctant to learn the answer.
I sat down next to her and realized she was holding photos. I peered closer and realized that they were pictures of me and Jude.
And Jude had been right, I had been all over him, as he smiled widely into the camera. I looked so happy. I was smiling in some of the pics, kissing him in others and then in the last pic, I was beaming as I held up my hand to the camera.
Something about my hand was different. I stared at the pic, not understanding what I saw there. And then my lack of understanding turned into disbelief. I was wearing a ring. I didn’t wear rings and the ring on my finger in the picture was not just any type of ring; it was clearly a wedding band.
“Misha?” I said. “Please tell me that’s not a ring.”
She was staring at my hand now. “That’s definitely a ring. Same ring you were wearing in the picture. It looks like a wedding band, Lacey.”
I swallowed hard and removed the ring. “Misha? What did I do?”
“This,” she said handing me the last remaining paper in her hand.
I studied it for a second, looked around for a garbage can, and promptly threw up.
Chapter Six
I paced back and forth. I didn’t even know why I was pacing. I then started chewing on my lip and mumbling to myself.
“Lacey, are you okay?” asked Emmaline, staring at me funny.
“I’m fine. Perfect. Thanks.” I didn’t stop pacing.
“You need to sit down. You don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine. I just need to figure this out. Everything will be fine.” I didn’t believe my own words but I was desperately trying to not freak out. In fact, I was a second away from freaking out. Suddenly the room was spinning and I struggled to stay standing up as I felt hands assisting me into a sitting position.
“It’s okay, Lacey. We got you. Take a deep breath.”
I tried to do as they said, but I was gulping air in the midst of a full-blown panic attack. Married! I couldn’t be married! What was wrong with me?
I felt my friends pushing my head between my legs, telling me to breathe.
; I focused on their words, gasping for air at first until finally, I was able to take a breath without feeling as if it were a challenge.
I slowly raised my head and looked at them. “I’m okay. Thanks. I was just—well, I don’t know—”
I tried to shrug it off and looked at my friends whose eyes were full of concern. I instantly felt embarrassed for losing it for a second. I had to get my emotions under control. I straightened my shoulders, stiffened my spine and declared, “I’m going to get an annulment. That’s clearly the only thing to do from here.”
Misha and Emmaline nodded silently.
“Okay. I’m going to go find Jude. I’m sure he’ll agree to it.”
Emmaline nodded in encouragement, but Misha for some reason looked doubtful.
“What?” I asked, not understanding her look.
She said with hesitation in her voice, “It’s just that he didn’t seem to be too upset by this whole issue. When he was here, he was so calm, he didn’t tell me why he was here, just that he wanted to speak to you, but I think he might actually be taking the news better than you...”
“So what are you saying?” My mind jumped to the most obvious conclusion. “You think he set this up? He did this on purpose?”
“What? No! I mean, I don’t know why he would. Why would he do something like that?”
I shook my head, “Yeah. I don’t know. I just—I’m not thinking right. I need to go to talk to him.” I stood up and promptly headed to the door when I realized I still wasn’t wearing much.
“I’ll change my clothes first.”
“Why are you wearing a sheet, by the way?” Emmaline asked, having only heard part of the story since she had woken up shortly after Jude left.
I opened my mouth and then closed it.
“I’ll catch Emmaline up on last night’s events, you get changed.”
I thanked Misha, trying to ignore the blush creeping up on my cheeks as Misha began explaining the whole sordid tale to Emmaline.
I hurriedly tossed a shirt and jeans on. I ran a hand through my hair and brushed my teeth. I splashed water on my face and gave myself a pep talk.
“You’re going to go over there and demand an annulment immediately. Don’t get distracted by his bedroom eyes. Or his sexy body. Or his beautiful smile. Or the way he smells, and his skin...” Oh God, I was in trouble.
With purpose in my steps, I strode past my friends, determined to expediently get done what needed to be done. I got on the elevator and realized that I had no clue where I was going. I turned to Hank who looked at me questioningly and said, “Hank, you wouldn’t happen to know what floor Jude Foster is on, would you? I swear I’m not trying to stalk him. I work for his dad and I—”
“No need to explain.” He selected a floor and we rode in awkward silence. I think I was the only one feeling awkward.
“Would you happen to know his room number?”
Hank laughed. “He owns the whole floor. His is the only place here. Go ahead and knock, I’m pretty sure he’s in.”
I thanked Hank and made my way to Jude’s door. I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I hoped Jude wouldn’t close the door in my face once he saw me. I’d been mean and nasty, and I was ashamed of how I had reacted.
It wasn’t his fault I’d got drunk. It wasn’t his fault that we’d got married. None of it was 100% his fault. I just hated that I’d let myself lose control to the point where I made the biggest mistake of my life.
I mustered up some courage and knocked lightly on Jude’s door as if I actually didn’t want him to answer. I waited for a second and then raised my hand to knock again, when Jude pulled the door open.
He didn’t look happy to see me.
“What can I do for you, Lacey?” His words were friendly enough, polite obviously, but his face was unsmiling. He didn’t look like his normal gregarious, anything-goes self. He looked serious, no nonsense. I wasn’t used to this version of Jude.
Softly I said, “Can we talk?”
“Talk? I thought we didn’t have anything to talk about.”
“I was wrong,” I said with a shrug.
He didn’t respond. He stepped back, and with a sweeping arm gesture invited me in. Reluctantly I crossed the threshold, secretly afraid that once I stepped in I’d see hints of our indiscretion.
Bits and pieces of last night were coming back to me and I avoided looking at his coffee table where our indiscretion had started. And I equally avoided looking towards the bedroom door where our indiscretion had ended.
I avoided his eyes and looked anywhere else. My gaze settled on a pile of clothes I realized were mine. He saw me looking and said something about dropping them off downstairs with Renee for me.
His tone was nonchalant, but I knew he was making idle chitchat. He clearly didn’t want to have this conversation either, so I cut to the chase.
“What are we going to do?”
Jude took his time answering as he moved to his couch and sat down. He crossed one ankle over the other and folded his arms behind his head. The position emphasized his muscular arms which I remembered the feel of, and his long legs stretched out in front of him made me remember the feel of his strong thighs under mine as I rode him last night.
I didn’t like the direction of my thoughts and apparently, I’d spent too long staring at Jude, speechless. He easily figured out where my thoughts had gone, saying, “Your memory’s coming back now, huh?”
It seemed pointless to play coy and I just answered honestly. “Unfortunately.”
He laughed, that playful expression that I remembered all too well back in his eyes. I didn’t want to admit I was glad to see him smile. I missed his smile.
“I know I was drunk, but I wasn’t that bad, was I?”
“I’m not here to stroke your ego.”
“Are you here to stroke something else?”
I rolled my eyes. “Can you be serious for one moment?”
“Yeah, but that moment passed. Come sit down. I don’t bite... Mrs. Foster.” He gestured for me to sit down next to him and instead I sat in the accent chair across from him.
“About this Mrs. Foster thing, how soon can we get an annulment?”
He laughed bitterly. “You want the bad news or the good news first?”
Impatiently, I said, “Just spit it out.”
He nodded and folded his hands together and leaned forward. He put his face in his hands and rubbed hard, as if trying to build up to say something he’d regret.
“Come on, Jude. You’re killing me here.”
“So I called my dad’s lawyer. And apparently, the guy can’t keep his mouth shut.”
“What? What happened?” I didn’t understand what he was talking about.
“I called to see about an annulment...”
“And?”
“It’s possible.”
“Thank God,” I breathed.
“But it means I’ll lose everything.”
“What? Lose everything? What are you talking about?” I didn’t like this turn of events.
“Apparently, as soon as dad’s lawyer found out, he told my dad who promptly changed not only his will but the stipulations of my inheritance as well. I was supposed to receive the first part of my trust fund on my thirtieth birthday which is in six months, but now our ‘situation’ has changed things.”
I shook my head, not understanding, “So what does that mean? What’s going on? I don’t understand.”
“That means, Lacey, that if we divorce I lose my trust fund. Dad thinks that by being married, especially to you, I’ll learn something about responsibility and maturity before I inherit a giant chunk of money.”
“Well, that’s wishful thinking. Delusional even. You don’t even know what the word maturity means.”
“Touché.”
I decided to stop giving him a hard time and said, “I mean, that sucks, but that has nothing to do with me.”
Jude laughed, “You really don’t spare any feelings, do you
?”
“I can be a little blunt. But you’ll have to forgive me for not caring that you’ll have to just be like the rest of us and find a job.”
“I have a job—”
“Being a billionaire playboy is not a job.”
“I’m not going to argue with you.” He now seemed majorly annoyed.
“Good because you’ll just lose.”
“Do you have to be right all the time?” he asked testily.
“It’s what I’m good at.”
He smiled gently and said in a soft voice, “I don’t know. I remember a few details from last night and you’re good at a lot of things.”
From the tone of his voice and the wicked gleam in his eyes, I knew “a lot of things” was sexual in nature.
I folded my arms over my chest, pretending to be more upset than I actually was. Inside I was secretly cheering for making an impression on a man who probably had slept with hundreds of girls, movies stars, models, and he was impressed by my moves? I wanted to pat myself on the back. And then I felt stupid and quickly squashed my reaction to his compliment.
“That may be true, but you’ll never get that experience again. You’ll just have your memories to sustain you.”
He laughed and as he did, something near my foot caught his eye.
He got up and bent down next to me. “I was wondering where these had gone.”
To my embarrassment, he was holding my panties from last night.
“Give me those!” I demanded, holding my hand out.
He extended them, I grabbed for them but before my hand clasped around them, he pulled them back. I stood up and placed my hand on my hips and glared at him.
“Stop being such a child.”
“I can’t, it’s in my nature.” He gave me a stupid smile that I’m ashamed to admit made me want to drop my panties again. The panties I was wearing.
“Say please.”
“Huh?” I said distracted by the direction of my own thoughts.
“If you want them back, say please.”
“No way. They’re rightfully mine. Give them back.”
I moved to grab them and he caught my hand in his. He surprised me then as he wound his fingers through mine and pulled me close.
Billionaire In Vegas Page 6
