Billionaire In Vegas

by Summer Cooper

  “I’m not a snob because I want to live in a place that doesn’t have creepy crawlies in the kitchen.”

  He took a look at the kitchen, grimaced and said, “Yeah. I think I should call someone. I guess we should head to your place then.”

  “My place?!” My eyebrows shot up. Per Jude’s plan, I’d live with him. He’d been rather persuasive and his plan had made sense, up until now.

  “Just for a few hours until a maid makes sense of my living arrangements.”

  I didn’t want to leave my bags in his apartment under its current conditions, so I grabbed them and stood next to the door.

  “Okay. A few hours.”

  He took my bags from me and we made our way back to his car.

  “So where do you live?”

  “East downtown.”

  “That’s not far, maybe we would have run into each other eventually.”

  “I doubt it. We don’t run in the same circles.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I’m a lowly temp worker, you’re a billionaire’s son and former pro-athlete.”

  “We have more in common than you think.”

  “Name one thing.” I happily waited for him to answer, enjoying our banter. Even though I didn't want to admit it, he was good company. We’d actually spent a little extra time in Vegas after my friends had already flown back, to meet with a lawyer and draw up the contract. Misha and Emmaline had been surprisingly excited about our agreement. I had expected them to be judgmental and tell me I was crazy, but they hadn’t. They’d seemed excited for me. Maybe it was the promise of billions of dollars that had made them open to the idea of their best friend staying married to a man she barely knew.

  We’d flown home together and much to my dismay, Oliver had met us on the landing. It had been an awkward car ride. I’d wanted to talk about his health and he’d ignored all my questions and instead focused on what plans Jude and I had for our lives together. It was as if Oliver had forgotten that Jude and I had only recently met.

  I didn't know what Oliver’s lawyer had told him or what Jude had told his father, but Oliver was over the moon. I just wanted reassurance that I still had a job, after he assured me that I did, I tried to be receptive to his chipper mood. And for the first time since I saw them together, Oliver and Jude hadn’t fought. They had almost been pleasant towards each other.

  Except, as Jude and I walked to the car that waited for us Oliver had yelled to Jude, “You better not screw this up, Jude!”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad,” Jude had called back.

  I smiled to myself. Oliver and Jude were more alike than they realized.

  “What are you smiling about?” Jude asked as we turned onto my street.

  “Oh, nothing,” I said.

  “You know, a healthy marriage is a marriage without secrets.”

  “Our marriage is pretty unhealthy already given that it’s based on a lie and all.”

  “Touché,” he said as he pulled up in front of my apartment building. We climbed out and made our way upstairs.

  I sensed him staring at my butt and turned around and caught him.

  I shook my head as I continued up the stairs. “Seriously, Jude... you know the rules.”

  “What?” he gave me a sheepish, boyish grin, “I was just looking not touching. You can't blame me for enjoying the view.”

  I was too winded to argue with him. “Gosh, I need to get into better shape.”

  “Yeah, as your husband, I worry about your cardiovascular health.”

  I was too out of breath to be angry and just gave a resigned sigh, fished my key out of my purse and opened my door.

  “Nice...” he said softly as he invited himself in. He took his time, looking around. I immediately felt self-conscious thinking of the mansion Oliver lived in, but then I realized how silly I was being. Jude’s loft had been a cesspool, speaking of which...

  “Don’t you have a housekeeper that you need to call?”

  He shook his head. “Obviously I don’t. Can you look one up for me?”

  I wanted to tell him no, but realized I’d probably be a lot more efficient. I pulled out my phone and started searching for a service and was too busy focusing on the task to notice he was going through my things.

  I saw him pull out my scrapbook and yelled, “Hey! Put that down!”

  Of course, he ignored me. “Who’s this? He looks like he’s in pain.”

  I snatched the picture from his hand, knowing exactly what he was talking about. It was a picture of my ex-boyfriend Evan, and he did look like he was in pain. He was surrounded by a group of dogs that were ready for adoption. The picture had been taken last Christmas. I’d dragged him to a fundraiser for a local animal rescue group. He hadn’t wanted to go, but I’d insisted. He’d been miserable the whole time. I swear when I wasn’t looking he’d probably even kicked a puppy.

  Jude sat down next to me, snatched the picture back and studied it while scratching his chin. “He looks like a real charmer. So who is he? Ex-boyfriend?”

  “Yes,” I grumbled.

  “Hmm... he looks like the type who would kick a puppy.”

  I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my mouth. “I wouldn’t have put it past him. He was a jerk most days.”

  “So why’d you date him?”

  I shrugged and quickly dialed a housekeeping service, not wanting to continue the conversation about my horrible taste in men. What was I supposed to tell Jude? That I purposefully dated losers to feel better about myself?

  After I was done with my phone call Jude ambushed me with more questions.

  “So what happened between you and Angry Man?”

  “Evan. His name is Evan.”

  “Evan. That name sucks, no wonder he was so angry,” he said this as he leaned his long legs out and placed his arm over the back of my chair. He took up most of the loveseat he was that big.

  I tried not to think about how well-endowed he was in general as I tried to decide how much to tell him and how much not to tell him.

  “Nothing really happened between us.”

  “He dumped you?”

  I hit him with a throw pillow.

  Jude grunted. “His loss.”

  I wasn’t expecting that response and I was relieved when he seemed to be distracted by the picture frames on my faux mantle.

  “Who’s this?”

  I got up and walked behind him. I peeked around and smiled as I took the picture from his hand.

  “That’s my aunt and my cousin, Leslie.”

  “You guys must be close.”

  I nodded. “She raised me.”

  “Oh. What happened to your parents?”

  “I never knew them really.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  My phone rang then and I happily answered. It was the housekeeping service calling me to confirm some information. I spoke to them briefly, glad for the reprieve. I didn’t want to talk about my parents.

  “We have to get going, the housekeeper will be there in ten minutes. Someone needs to let them in.

  Two hours later Jude’s loft was shiny and clean.

  The guestroom was on the opposite side of the kitchen and I sat my bags in there. When I turned around I found Jude leaning up against the door with a frown on his face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Come with me.”

  I followed him not knowing what was wrong. I frowned at him when he stopped in front of his bedroom door.

  “Is this some pitiful form of seduction?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “My room’s bigger than the guest room and since you’re doing me a huge favor it only seems fair that I let you have this one.”

  I loved it immediately. It was front-facing with floor to ceiling windows. But I couldn’t put him out of his own room.

  “I love it,” I confessed. “But the guest room is comfortable enough.”

  “Come on, take it. I want you to h
ave it. The view is beautiful. If you’re forced to live with a slob, you might as well have the best views outside of my pigsty.”

  “You have a point.”

  We both turned at the same time and bumped into each other.

  I wanted to reach up and touch his chest, but I didn’t. He caught my hand and looked down at it.

  “You’re not wearing your ring.”

  “I figured I’d just wear it in public.”

  “You should wear it now... otherwise you might forget and that would make us look very suspicious. I don’t want that. Too much money is at stake.”

  And then to my surprise, he reached into his pocket. The ring he pulled out was stunning.

  “What?”

  “Surprise.”

  I felt stupid as my hands shook as I took the ring. It was small, yet elegant, tasteful and he slid it slowly on my finger.

  I couldn’t say a word. I stared at it and he reached up and tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

  “Much better,” he said softly.

  I nodded, finding myself choked up.

  “Thank you,” I said. “You shouldn’t have bothered.”

  “It’s no problem, we need to make this marriage look as legitimate as possible, right? And legitimacy starts with a ring.”

  He had a point, but despite our deception, I couldn't help but feel warmed by his gesture. Even if it was to mislead people, the ring was sweet and thoughtful.

  I looked at his wedding band and felt bad. “You’re stuck with a crappy wedding band. I’ll get you something else.”

  “I like this crappy wedding band. I’m kind of fond of it. A special lady gave it to me.”

  I felt myself blushing and then he bent down and kissed my cheek, I waited with baited breath for him to kiss me, but he pulled away and said, “I’ll get your bags.”

  I shook my head... maybe this farce wasn’t such a good idea after all.

  Chapter Eight

  I was sitting in Oliver’s office giving him a breakdown of everything he had in his calendar for the rest of the month. I was about two minutes into my update when Oliver started coughing. It was a dry cough, but it concerned me, especially since Oliver dodged every question about his health.

  “Do you want me to get you some water?”

  He shook his head, “No. I’m fine. But you’re boring me.”

  That comment caught me off guard. “What?”

  “Let’s talk about you instead. How’s everything going with my son?”

  “I… fine. I think.”

  “You think?” He frowned and that made me very nervous. I didn’t want him concerned.

  “I mean... I know everything’s going fine. It’s only been a few months. So, we’re definitely still newlyweds. You know, learning about each other… doing married people things.” I chuckled dryly feeling highly uncomfortable. Married people things? Could I be any less eloquent? I wanted to kick myself. He hadn’t asked me any direct questions about my marriage until then and I wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “Great. I’m glad things are going well. And since you’re part of the family now, I guess you’ll be going to the charity ball with Jude this year.”

  “The Friends of the Library Association Ball?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know I was expected to attend.”

  “Jude and I attend every year. His mother sat on the board for most of her adult life. She loved public libraries. The smell of the books. The quiet. And then as she got older she helped sponsor a lot of the English language programs for resettled refugees and she raised funds for library materials in public schools.”

  “Those are great causes.”

  “Oh yes, Ophelia was a lovely woman with a huge heart. Whenever there was need, she tried to take care of it. She tried to save everyone.”

  “How did she pass if you don’t mind me asking?”

  He crossed his legs and tapped his fingers together. “I love talking about her, it’s no bother. She died from complications related to Alzheimer’s. At the end she barely recognized me. I could handle it, but not Jude. It really tore him up. They were very close. While Jude and I never saw eye to eye on anything, Ophelia was so accepting, so interested in all his pursuits. She was the better parent, I’m sure.”

  ‘I’m sure you tried your best.”

  He shook his head and his eyes grew sad. “I could have done a lot better. My best wasn’t good enough for Jude. He hates me.”

  “That’s not true.” Although, I wasn’t sure if I was right or not.

  “I try not to dwell on it. The past is the past. I can’t fix that. I’m just focusing on the future now. Speaking of which, have you two decided on how many kids you’ll have?”

  I wanted to run screaming from the room, but I gathered my wits about me and said, “We haven’t discussed children yet.”

  “I hope you’ll have at least two. I regret that Jude is an only child. I wish he had someone else to help him make the tough choices especially now given my condition.”

  I waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t I knew that was the end of the conversation. He promptly changed the subject like I knew he would. He’d avoided talking about his health and Jude knew even less than I did.

  When we were done I prepared to leave, about to call a taxi when Oliver stopped me.

  “What are you doing? Are you still taking taxis? I thought Jude would have gotten you a car. You’re family now, just take one of my cars.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “I insist.”

  “Oliver, you’re way too generous.”

  “Again, you’re my family now. And no family member of mine is going to have to rely on a taxi driver to get her to and from home. Now come with me and tell me which car you want.”

  I followed him to the garage and realized that he had three different cars lined up. One was an SUV and two were classic European cars. I didn’t feel comfortable driving any of them down the street. They were too pretentious for my taste. I said this to Oliver who waved away my concerns.

  “Take the SUV. You’ll fit right in. Americans love SUVs… such a weird fascination,” he said, almost to himself.

  I figured it was better than the fancy European antiques so I grabbed the keys and jumped in. It was an Escalade and I giggled as I backed out.

  “This car is really popular with rappers!” Oliver happily informed me.

  I laughed and drove to Jude’s. He was leaning against his practical sedan waiting for me. When I pulled up he laughed.

  “Dad gave you a car I see.”

  “I didn’t ask him for it,” I said, feeling guilty.

  “Whatever. I just feel bad that I didn’t think of it first.”

  I climbed out of the SUV and into Jude’s car. Jude held the door open for me and I thought not for the first time how respectful he was. And considerate. It was hard to rationalize the man I knew now with the man I’d met what felt like ages ago.

  “So what’s the surprise... where are we going?”

  “You'll see.”

  I sat back enjoying the ride. He surprised me by singing along to a few songs that I associated with teenage girls.

  “Come on, sing along. You know you want to.”

  I shook my head. “You’re doing great. I wouldn’t want to interrupt the master.”

  He started singing falsetto and I giggled. His happiness was contagious and I found myself singing along despite my original protests. It reminded me of days long gone when I would sing with my aunt and cousin on our road trips to northern Florida to camp.

  I was still singing loudly and off-key when I noticed that he was no longer singing. It was just me. We were sitting at a stoplight and he was staring at me.

  “You’re pretty cute when you’re not uptight and cranky.”

  “So you think I'm cute?”

  “Maybe… just a little. You’re mostly just cranky.”

  “Oh, Jude. You’re too kind.”<
br />
  He reached out and surprised me by stroking the side of my face. “Thanks for doing this, Lacey. I know this hasn’t been easy—”

  “Well you are going to pay me.”

  “Even so, you’re sacrificing a lot to make this work and I just want you to know I appreciate it. I appreciate you. I don’t take what you’re doing for me for granted.”

  I realized then that his hand was still on my face and I found myself leaning towards him. He leaned in towards me and a loud honk sounded from behind us.

  “Green light,” I said softly, my lips almost touching his. He smiled regretfully and pulled off.

  I stared out my window to avoid his eyes. We had one too many close calls for my comfort. Just the other night we’d fallen asleep on the couch together and I’d woken up cuddled in his arms. I’d forced myself to sneak away and go to my own room when instead I’d wanted to stay in his arms. I was concerned. This marriage was supposed to be a fake, yet it was the realest relationship I’d ever been in.

  “You ready?”

  I’d been so deep in thought that I hadn’t noticed we’d reached our destination. I looked around and frowned. We were in front of a dark gray building in a questionable part of town.

  “Care to tell me where we are now?”

  “Come on and I’ll show you.”

  We walked in and I felt a little weirded out. The building was eerily quiet.

  “Um... you aren’t planning to kill me. Are you?”

  “I don’t think so. Should I be?”

  “Haha. Not funny.”

  He pushed through a pair of double doors and then I saw a sign that said Ophelia’s Angels. Before I could ask about it, I noticed what was going on in front of me.

  The building was packed from front to back with boxes, boxes I quickly realized were full of food.

  Workers were sorting food. Packers were packaging boxes. Others were shouting orders. It was a busy, well-oiled machine.

  “What’s Ophelia’s Angels? Some sort of packaging firm?”

  “Something like that. We collect donations from around the city, clothes, food, etcetera, and ship them out to seniors in the community.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, Ophelia’s Angels is—”