A Bride for Two Billionaires

by Lola Newmar

  Looks like Amber can put those man-made, dick-sucking lips to good use as she kisses her delusional dreams chances at the crown adios! Cochina!

  A few other Amber Fox articles had been posted since, but Taylor had seen enough. She closed her laptop and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. It was hard for Taylor to feel much sympathy for her old friend, but she never wanted Amber to lose her chances at the title she had been chasing her whole life. Being Miss Dallas Texas Yellow Rose was all Amber cared about, and she was willing to sacrifice everything for it. That included her friendship with Taylor.

  For the last year, they had both prepared for the ultimate Texas pageant. But while Taylor spent most of her time volunteering in the name of her hypertrophic cardiomyopathy awareness platform, Amber spent her days drinking at the W pool, and her nights were spent sugar-daddy hunting at every Dallas hotspot.

  Over the years, Amber’s out-of-control partying had gotten progressively sloppier. What started out as drink-’til-you-blackout binging at fourteen soon turned to suck-it-to-snort-it cocaine clubs at seventeen, then later guess-what-I-am pill highs at twenty-two—and every day since.

  But Amber was always this way.

  Taylor remembered back when she had first won the Miss Teen Dallas Texas Yellow Rose title. Out of the hundreds of pageant titles a Texas girl could compete for, Miss Teen Dallas Texas Yellow Rose and Miss Dallas Texas Yellow Rose were the most prestigious. Taylor’s mother saw the pageant as a great social opportunity for Taylor, and a great bragging right for herself, mother of a Texas beauty queen.

  At first, Taylor refused to consider participating, preferring to devote her free time to the HCM foundation she volunteered for since her father’s death. When Daddy had died, the foundation had contacted the family and offered to pay for the funeral her mother couldn’t afford. Taylor had always remained incredibly grateful for the help they gave her family during that dark, difficult time. She had also wanted to do her part to prevent others from going through the pain she and her family had to endure.

  When Taylor became aware that the pageant allowed each contestant to have a charity platform, and the teen winner’s charity would receive two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars, she quickly agreed. For the Miss Dallas Texas Yellow Rose title, the charity donation prize increased to seven-hundred and fifty thousand dollars. That amount now paled in comparison to Jay and Brody’s ten-milion dollar donation. Her HCM foundation had recently planned its eleventh statewide tour to educate student athletes on the facts about the disease. She knew with that money, the charity would now be able to take the tour nationwide..

  Harold and Amber’s father had introduced the girls to each other at the Miss Teen Dallas Texas Yellow Rose participant orientation several months before the pageant. Mr. Fox was a highly respected real estate mogul who specialized in luxury real estate in the Dallas/ Fort Worth area. He also had an obsessive hobby of competing in dog shows with his two prized toy poodles, Sir Rush Limbark and Sir Bill O’Bite Me. He was a man of appearance and status, and those priorities were passed down to his pageant-obsessed daughter.

  Amber became Taylor’s first close friend since she and her mom had entered the Dallas high society. As a pageant girl since the age of nine months, with over a hundred and fifty titles under her belt, Amber had been confident she was a shoo-in for Miss Teen Dallas Texas Yellow Rose, and she made sure every contestant knew it. It wasn’t uncommon for one of Amber’s rivals to suddenly have a broken high heel or an extra slit down their evening gown.

  Taylor had been painfully intimidated with Amber’s stunning beauty, especially at such a young, impressionable age. Her skin always had a deep tan, her teeth were snow white, and her voluminous blond hair bounced as she walked. Amber was born a brunette, but her mother began to bleach her hair just a few months before orientation. Amber had explained that, in the pageant world, blondes were more likely to get noticed. But more than anything else, Taylor was enamored by Amber’s eyes, a sparkling crystal blue that was kryptonite to any kid’s Snack Pack, any teacher’s star stickers, and any adult’s wallet.

  But seven months later, Taylor was crowned the youngest Miss Teen Dallas Texas Yellow Rose at just thirteen, and Amber was runner-up. It was Taylor’s first pageant.

  Amber went on to win Miss Teen Dallas Texas Cowgirl Spur the next month, but Amber never seemed to get over losing the Miss Teen Dallas Texas Yellow Rose title to a rookie.

  Taylor had spent most of her year attending charity events for HCM research. During one event, Taylor and Amber were approached by a boy a few years younger than them.

  “I’m very happy to meet you, Miss Teen Dallas Texas Yellow Rose and Miss Teen Dallas Texas Cowgirl Spur.” Taylor remembered the young boy’s smile beamed with admiration. “I was diagnosed with HCM when I was five, and I just wanted to say thank you for helping people like me. Could y’all please sign my event booklet?”

  Taylor remembered the angry fire that danced in Amber’s eyes when the boy handed his marker and program to Taylor first. Taylor had pretended not to notice for the boy’s sake. “Of course! And the pleasure is all mine! I’m sorry, what did you say your name—” Out of nowhere, Amber grabbed the program out of Taylor’s hands and violently tore it to shreds in front of the boy’s face. “Hey! Amber, what are you doing?”

  “Fuck this charity bullshit, and fuck you, dying freak!” Amber screamed at the boy, ignoring Taylor’s protests. The young boy ran off in tears.

  Amber had called Taylor the next week to apologize for her behavior. “I’m on the rag. You know how it is!” Taylor had felt the social pressure to forgive her friend. After all, she had been there for Taylor when no one else was.

  * * * *

  Taylor woke up just as her aunt was coming though the bedroom door, holding a tray of sweet tea and a slice of delectable, homemade blueberry pie from the Male Order Diner.

  Taylor stretched her arms and let out a satisfied groan.

  “Ugh, how long have I been asleep?”

  “Just a few hours.”

  “A few hours? Aunt Veronica, you should’ve woken me!”

  Walking around to Taylor’s side of the bed, Aunt Veronica nudged Taylor to learn forward as she rested an extra pillow behind her. “Oh hush now, girl. I done told your simple ass before you got here that if you want to stay with me, I’ll make sure you do nothing but rest and relax. No sense in complaining about such a good thing.”

  Aunt Veronica moved to the other side of the bed and lay on her stomach, her head resting in her hands as she watched Taylor enjoy her evening snack. Finally, Taylor finished, lifted her glass of tea, and sat back.

  “Thank you, Aunt Veronica. I guess you’re right. Obviously, it’s what my body needed, and I need to get in the habit of giving it what it asks for.”

  “That’s what I’m countin’ on, sister.” With a sly smile, Aunt Veronica lifted the empty tray and put it on the floor next to the bed.

  Taylor’s cheeks burned despite no one being in the room to hear her aunt’s dirty reference. She took another sip of sweet tea in attempt to cool off her burning face.

  “I have to be at the Boom Boom Room in thirty minutes. One of my bartenders called in sick, so I need to go cover,” said Aunt Veronica as she looked at her watch. “But you know me, I can’t rest until I know you’ve eaten.”

  She looked at Aunt Veronica and, for the first time, noticed a silver heart-shaped locket hanging from her neck. Taylor watched her aunt work to get the necklace off with little success, so she motioned for Aunt Veronica to turn to allow her to help.

  “I’ve never seen this before,” said Taylor just as she unhooked the clasp.

  “Never? I’ve had it since I moved out of Mama’s house when I was sixteen. I never wear it out to the bar because I’m afraid to lose it. Open it.”

  Taylor carefully opened it. She studied the two happy, young faces that met her inside. Two children, a boy and girl, were embracing each other in a loving bear hug. The little girl w
as a few inches shorter than the boy. She proudly smiled wide in the photograph, her chin held high in obvious pride. Taylor smiled at the girl’s missing two front teeth. The boy affectionately rested his head on top of the small girl’s, giving the camera a calm yet sweet, closed-mouth smile.

  “We were six and eight there.”

  Taylor looked up at her. Aunt Veronica’s watery eyes were softly staring down at the locket in Taylor’s hand. “Best big brother you’d ever wanna meet,” Aunt Veronica whispered.

  For as long as she could remember, her aunt was always so bubbly and always ready to party. Yet, Veronica never seemed willing to break down her emotional walls with men, choosing to focus on Mr. Right Now rather than Mr. Right. But when it came to Taylor and her late father, Veronica’s walls collapsed. Taylor knew her aunt loved her deeply, always commenting on how she looked like her daddy with the same smile and dimples, and how they shared the same quiet, effortless charm without demanding attention.

  “Well, judging from that smile you’re giving the camera, it looks like you were very aware of that, even at that age.”

  “How could I not be?” Veronica pointed a French-manicured finger at the photo. “Your daddy was about this age when Mama began her battle with depression. When Papa wasn’t out chasing women, or passed out in his own puke on the front porch, he spent all his free time gambling our rent money away at the local game room. But with his temper, none of us minded him being gone all that much.” Taylor could see the pain cross her dear aunt’s face as she continued. “It was just a matter of months for Mama to go from bad to worse, and I remember her spending days, sometimes weeks, in bed. Joey took on the duties of dressing me for school every morning, styling my hair the best way a boy could, making my packed lunch, and cooking dinner when we got home from school. And every morning, he greeted his baby sister with a smile and hug.

  “I still remember coming home from school about a year after this, the first day of the first grade. I came to him crying because all the children in my class had handwritten notes from their mamas tucked in their lunch sacks. I remember the agony that had crossed his face as I sat at the dinner table, crying hysterically, convinced I wasn’t worthy of that kind of love. I thought maybe I had been a bad girl and that it was my fault Mama didn’t write me letters. From that day on, I would find a note from Joey in my lunch sack every day.”

  Taylor quickly brushed away the tears that gathered on her lower lashes. “So Daddy was always Daddy, even at eight.”

  “Baby girl, look at me.” Veronica held Taylor’s chin in her fingers. “Your daddy will always be your daddy, and you will always be his baby princess. No one can ever take that away from you..” Taylor lowered her face as she fought the tears continuing to build in the back of her eyes, but Veronica only lifted her chin again. “You loved your daddy so much, baby, and, my God, did he love you. When they brought you home from the hospital, your mama would have to bribe him with steaks just to get him to hand you over.” They both laughed at the image of her daddy, standing tall and macho in his dirty work clothes as he gently rocked a baby in his arms.

  “I know it hurts, Taylor,” Aunt Veronica continued. “Watching you grow up from a loving, affectionate child to an emotionally guarded young woman is not something your father would have wanted for you. You can’t avoid love just to avoid the loss. That’s not living, baby girl.”

  * * * *

  Jay didn’t feel his mind was in the present. As he carefully combed his freshly washed hair, he was actually debating about tomorrow. He wanted Taylor more than anything. After spending time with her over the week, his feelings had grown dangerously deeper. He couldn’t imagine how much control he was about to lose the more he spent time with her.

  To Jay, Taylor embodied all that he had been avoiding. She had class, beauty, brains, and a huge heart. A wife. A future mother.

  Papa Craig poked his head in the bathroom, a wide smile spread across his face. He was wearing his favorite flannel robe and holding his nightly Southern Comfort on the rocks. “Hey, bubba, it’s getting pretty late. You better make sure you’re rested for your day with little Miss Taylor Ewing tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, Pops, just getting ready for bed, is all.”

  His father let out another whistle just as he had when he first saw Mrs. Bartlett’s new Bugatti. “She sure is a peach if I ever saw one.”

  “Yeah, she even tastes like a peach.”

  Papa Craig threw his head back in a roar of laughter at Jay’s instant response. Jay softly smiled at the nostalgically melodious sound. He always knew just what to say to make his father laugh like that.

  “Well, my boy,” Papa Craig wiped a laughing tear from under his glasses, “on that note, I’ll see you in the morning.” Papa Craig gave him a soft pat on his back and began turning to walk away.

  “Pops?”

  “Yeah, bubba?” No matter how old or successful Jay got, his father always spoke to him in the same soft and nurturing voice like he had when Jay was a toddler.

  Jay took a second to choose his words carefully. “If you could do it all over again, with all the pain you feel now, would you still have shared a marriage with Papa Clark?”

  “I’d gladly feel this pain for a thousand lifetimes just to relive those fifteen years again.” His father said it casually, without hesitation, and walked away whistling.

  Chapter 6

  Honk! Honk, honk!

  Taylor was dreaming she was in a floating basket, flying through the heavenly clouds as a band marched alongside her, the large group playing a song especially for her. And how appropriate, they were playing Bill Withers!

  Honk, honk!

  When she looked down, the basket began to slowly transform into…Furby?

  As Taylor rolled in her bed, slowly coming to, her eyes struggling to open against the bright sunshine peering through the window, she realized the honking horn and the music was not from her dream, but from outside the house.

  As she groggily sat up in her bed, she looked to her right at the alarm clock sitting on the side table. Eight a.m.

  Before she could curse at whatever crazy bastard was being so rude, Aunt Veronica burst through the door.

  “Aaah!” Taylor screamed and just about jumped out of her skin.

  “Oh! My! God! Baby girl, you better look outside.”

  “Outside?” Taylor jumped out of bed then quickly pulled on her sleeping shorts. She ran to the front room and peered through the blinds. “What the—” There in the street, right in front of the house, were Brody and Jay standing up through the sunroof of a stretch Hummer, followed by the Male Order High School marching band enthusiastically playing “Lovely Day.”

  Taylor opened the front door and stood on the porch to get a better look. She noticed several neighbors were standing on their porches in their robes, happily dancing to the musical wakeup. Out in the yard, Aunt Veronica danced with the thirty-something bachelor from down the street. Wow, so not only is it a ménage town, but it’s full of crazy morning people, too?

  Taylor couldn’t help but smile as she watched Jay and Brody being silly, dancing through the sunroof like a couple of drunken prom dates. The three teenaged drum majors that led the band were incredibly impressive, bending back low to the ground, coming back up in a high step, their batons flying high in the air then getting caught from behind. The band continued their march around the limo and down the street. When they rounded the corner, the music slowly fading with distance, the whole block broke out in applause and whistles. Taylor held back the giddy tears that were trying to break through her lashes, and her face was already hurting from smiling and laughing so much.

  “That was incredible!” Taylor ran out to meet her men, barely noticing she forgot to grab a decent robe on the way out of the house. “I can’t believe you set that up for me.”

  Jay shrugged. “Give a high school kid a hundred-dollar bill, and they’ll do just about anything.”

  “Yeah, they were more than hap
py to wake up early for the surprise,” Brody confirmed.

  “But we’re not done, so go get dressed. But thanks for returning the favor with your own show, princess.” Jay indicated the sheer T-shirt she was wearing and gave her a devilish wink.

  Looking down at herself, heat rushed to her face, and she immediately covered her erect nipples with her arms. Without another word, she ran in the house as she heard Brody and Jay laugh behind her.

  * * * *

  “Hmm, twenty minutes, pretty impressive.” Brody looked up from his watch, and he stopped breathing. He stared at his Juliet making her way down the porch steps. He gave her an onceover from her red toe nails to her dazzling smile. She wore brown leather platform sandals, a light pink ruffled mini-skirt, and a khaki short-sleeved button-down that she tied above her naval, a hint of cleavage peaking from the several unfastened buttons on top. She wore several gold bracelets, and a small purse hung across her body. Even dressed casually, she was every bit the Dallas beauty queen.