by Bella Grant
"I like her," Nick finally admitted to his sister, his lip curled. “But she’s none of your business.”
"You don't sound too pleased. If you like her, you should look happier," Zia said, looking him up and down. “Besides, any girl that comes into your life is my business. And you should know that.”
"I’m not angry. Sometimes you can be so self-absorbed. You think everything is about you." Nick sighed, exasperated.
“It’s not all about me?” Zia said, laughing. “I’ve been delusional.”
“Z, you’re a piece of work. One day you’re going to really put your foot in your mouth.”
"But you’ll be around the corner to save my butt if that were to ever happen.”
"I can't do it forever, you know," Nick said. “Save your butt.”
"Whatever. So, who is she? Wait, don't tell me. She's that Sara somebody on our guest list, isn't she?"
Nick nodded. There was no point denying what his sister would find out in a couple of hours. What did it matter at that point anyway? Sara was coming and that's all that mattered.
"Have I met her?" Zia asked, more relaxed now.
"No."
"Where did you meet her?"
"It's a long story," Nick said.
"Well, lucky for you, I have time to listen to my brother tell me about the love of his life."
"It’s not like that. She doesn't even know me, at least not the way you think."
Zia looked at Nick. "Okay, Nick Saunders, you better start talking. You’re sending a limo to get some girl you don’t know. Start talking.”
"Maybe later."
"No, right now," Zia said as she pulled his hand and started walking to one of their private gazebos. “You need to tell me what is going on.”
Nick spent the next hour telling Zia how he met Sara and how he had sent her the diamond necklace.
"So she doesn't know the necklace and invitation are from the same guy in the café?”
"No."
"How do you suppose you'll connect with her today? Walk up to her and lay on the charm?”
"That's what I've always done."
"And it's worked for those sluts you've dated. This one sounds like a tough nut to crack. Wouldn't be surprised if she were a virgin."
Nick blushed at the thought of a virgin mate. Could Sara really be a virgin? Rob, his private investigator, hadn't mentioned that in his report, which was good. That would have been creepy.
Zia looked at him and started laughing. "You know what virgins are, right? I know you've never seen one."
Nick playfully smacked her hand. "Are you saying you're a slut?"
"Hey there, brother, watch your mouth," Zia said and looked around to make sure no one was looking at them. “Or I’ll take your virgin bride off the list.”
Nick looked at his sister and laughed. "You better not mess with her.”
"I take it Ms. Nolles will not be donating ten million at this event."
"Highly unlikely,” Nick said.
"You will be making a donation for her." It wasn't a question. It was a fact. Nick nodded. "That's coming out of your pocket money, Nick Saunders, not the company’s."
"Of course," Nick said. He wouldn’t have it any other way. He had already planned to make a donation on Sara’s behalf, except he hadn’t yet figured out how he could do it without embarrassing her.
"She better be one good piece of ass! Ten-million-dollar ass. And if she’s a skinny bitch, I swear, I'll disown you." Zia left her brother and went back to the party planning.
Nick smiled. From what he remembered of Sara, she was far from bony. Nick had always wanted a woman with extra meat, and Sara was curvy all right. He smiled at his sister, who had moved on to throwing out commands at the staff. He almost wanted to tell Zia to take a break and let the party planner they had hired take care of things, but he changed his mind when he saw the young woman who looked like she was straight out of college standing in the corner, shaking and probably wondering why she had been hired as a planner in the first place.
SARA
A few hours later, I felt like a princess. My black hair was pinned up with a couple of loose curls purposefully escaping the sides. My nails had been painted, and Amy was doing my makeup much better than I expected. Initially, she had hired a makeup artist, but I had convinced her to cancel the appointment and make me up herself. Amy was good at it, and since she knew me better than anyone else, I knew she would do an amazing job of making me feel pretty.
"Done," she said as she stepped aside to admire her work.
"How do I look?" I asked, smacking my lips and tasting the strawberry-flavored lip liner she had used on my lips.
"Don't mess up your lipstick!" I smacked my lips again and made a face at her. "Gosh, sometimes I wonder if you're really an adult." I could see a faint smile on her lips.
I got up and walked to my dresser mirror. My eyes popped as I looked at myself. My hair, usually untamable, was sitting perfectly on top of my head, curls cascading down to the side in a controlled but sexy way. My lips were a deep shade of red, a color I'd never have used on myself. My glasses were gone, and in their place were my neutral contacts, which brought out my hazel eye color. Amy had accentuated my eyes with mascara and eye liner, making them bigger than I remembered.
I liked the way I looked. My makeup looked natural, almost invisible, yet it hid the few blemishes on my skin. I twirled around like a little girl admiring myself.
“Nice,” I said, hugging my best friend for life.
“I told you you’d look great,” she said, smiling at me.
I spun around a couple more times, laughing. Placing my hands on my hips, I smoothed the dress around my waist and over my abdomen. The redness of the dress complemented me. The only problem I had with the dress was that it was too revealing around my neckline. I tried to pull the top up so my boobs were better hidden, but to no avail. The neckline was cut too low. I pulled a couple more times until Amy noticed what I was doing and scowled at me.
"A little boob show won’t kill you, girl," she said, smacking my hands away from my dress and pulling the dress down so that whatever little decency I had managed to achieve was gone.
"But I don't want to look like a slut," I whined as I tugged on the dress.
"You are already a slut. You know what's going to happen tonight, right?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
“Did you really expect the billionaire boy to let you go home untouched? Don't you think he might want something out of all this?"
I stared at Amy, my eyes widening as her words played in my head. I hadn’t even considered that Nick Saunders wanted anything from me. He didn't know me, and the invitation was just by error. But what if he was expecting some sort of reward from the real Sara that I couldn't give? I gasped at the realization that I hadn't thought the whole thing through, very much unlike me.
"You’re scaring me, Amy," I blurted out. If she hadn't insisted I go to the party, none of this would have come up.
"Relax, Sara. He probably won't notice you. With the number of rich women throwing themselves at him at their stupid ball, I doubt he's going to do more than say hello to you.”
"You confuse me! Just make up your mind what he’ll do to me! But I hope you're right," I said to Amy as I slipped my feet into my heels.
"I am always right. The only person you'll have to watch out for will be his twin sister."
"He has a twin?"
"Didn't you read any of those articles I sent you on him?" Amy had sent me an email a few days ago with a bunch of articles on Nick. I had glanced at them but hadn’t really read them.
"Well, I started to..."
"You didn't read them, did you? You should have read them so you have an idea what you are getting into.”
"It's too late now. So what's up with his sister?" I asked.
Just as she started to explain, the doorbell rang. She walked over to the window and looked out. "Your ride awaits, royal slut," she joked as she handed me my
clutch and practically marched me out of my house.
“So what’s up with the sister?”
“Oh, nothing much, except she is overprotective of Nick. I hear she vets every girl that comes around him. But I’m sure you’ll be okay.”
I wanted to ask more questions, but she wouldn't give me answers. Damn, I should have taken more interest in the email she had sent me. I guess I could research his sister on my phone as we drove. It was probably a good idea knowing what I was getting into before I got there. Or maybe I would just deal with things as they happened.
The driver of the limo stepped out of the car as I approached him and promptly opened the door. I smiled at him while trying to control my excitement. I had to pretend like riding in a limo was no big deal. The limo was impressive. Black on the outside and dark brown on the inside.
"Hello, David," I said, remembering him from the last time he delivered the card to me. “Good to see you again.”
"Good evening, Ms. Nolles. The pleasure is all mine,” he said as he held the door for me. I got into the car and he was back in the driver seat. "Ms. Nolles, can I offer you anything to drink? Water, wine, or juice?"
"No, thank you," I said, chuckling. It felt weird to be addressed so formally. As the car pulled out of the neighborhood, navigating through the narrow roads and potholes, I felt like I was in a different world.
NICK
Nick knew his guests would be arriving soon, but he was too wound up to stay put. Instead, he decided to go for a walk on his property. He would be back before the first guests arrived. Taking walks on his land was one of the things he enjoyed most about having money, and he hoped to share some of his pastimes with Sara, once she got to know him.
He put on some shorts and a tee and stepped out of the house and away from where the party was going to happen. As he breathed in the cool, fresh air, he felt himself begin to relax. The expanse of greenery had a way of helping him relax. The first time he had seen the land before he bought it, it had reminded him so much of what nature was meant to be - lush trees, hidden water paths, rocks, dandelions and all the other stupid little things that made him feel alive. He had instantly fallen in love with the land and quickly bought it and constructed his house without messing up the natural landscape.
During the construction, he had built a secret retreat in the middle of it all, and now, as he walked away from the noise and music, his feet took the sure path he knew so well. He relaxed and let his senses direct him. Once he was far from prying eyes, he sat on a huge stone. He had been so stressed with thoughts of Sara. Granted, he had just met her, but she was already taking over his life, pushing him past his comfort zone.
Lately, he had begun to question himself, making little stupid errors he knew better than to make. He had to be careful because Zia was already on him, noticing the little things he did wrong. It was weird how a girl he just met could make him lose control so quickly. He got up and kept walking.
As he strolled past a winding stream, he took off his shoes and waded into the water. It was beautiful and warm in the afternoon sun, just like he remembered Sara's face. He tried to imagine how she’d look at the party but couldn’t imagine her in anything other than the waitress outfit she made look so sexy. The thought of her body clad in that outfit aroused him. He needed to strip a couple of layers of clothes to cool off. He looked around to make sure no one was following him and took off his shirt; he wasn’t expecting anyone since no one came to that part of his property except him and his family. The staff never asked questions; they just knew not to venture to this part of the estate. If anyone ever wondered what they did in those forests, no one ever asked.
The beauty of being a billionaire is that you can buy privacy, as well as get a girl you really like to come to a party without speaking to her. He chuckled at the anticipation of seeing Sara's face again, staring into her eyes like he had the last time he had seen her, touching her, even if it was just a hug, and smelling her essence if she would let him. He sounded like a creepy stalker, and that was not what he wanted to project. He had to be careful he didn’t come across as an asshole or a weirdo.
The sun was blazing and he got even hotter. He decided to go for a swim to cool off. "Fuck it," he said aloud as he stripped to the skin and plunged into the pool. Once he hit the water, his animalistic instincts took over, and he started making powerful strides, swimming uphill against the current. The faster he swam, the more his body begged for more. It was as if the physical exhaustion was what he needed to get control of his thoughts of Sara.
While he was under the water, he heard someone calling his name from a distance. Zia was on the other side of the river where he had left his clothes. She had probably guessed he was off swimming to release tension. This was the first time he had done this right before an event with so little time to spare.
He surfaced and looked up in the clouds. He had gotten so carried away being in nature that he had totally lost track of time. He should have been dressed and awaiting the guests rather than naked and swimming in a stream, totally unaware of the rest of civilization.
"Coming, Zia!" he called to her from the distance.
"You're going to make us late!" she called back to him. "You know what time it is?”
Nick didn't have to get close to her to know she was seething mad at him. Her voice told him all he needed to know. "I'll be there in a few!" Nick called back.
"Five minutes, brother! And put some damn clothes on."
Nick heard her footsteps retreat to the house. He swam back to his clothes and was dressed and on his way back to the house quickly.
The guests hadn't started arriving when he emerged, but his staff were ready to start the party. He disappeared into his room and took a quick shower. He had picked out a sensible dinner suit for the evening - a white suit tailored for him, but on second thought, he went for a dark suit. He had a sense that Sara would find him more appealing in a darker color.
As he dressed, he cursed himself. When did everything he do start depending on Sara's opinion? He hadn't even kissed her, for crying out loud, and he was rearranging his life for her.
Looking out his window as he dressed, he watched the cars pull up the long driveway and let the guests out.
The first person to arrive was Mr. Harris, a man in his fifties, with his fourth or fifth wife. He had lost count. Nick watched them alight from the limo after it parked in his expansive driveway – the man, clad in an expensive, custom-made suit, alligator shoes, and a pin-stripe white shirt; his wife was dressed in a long, black, tight dress that was probably from a limited collection of some overpriced designer line, her shoes at least five inches high, and her hair, blonde, cropped, and silky. They came every year, or rather, he came every year with a different wife, Nick thought, a smile on his face. He didn't care so much about his wives because he contributed to his cause. To Nick’s amusement, Mr. Harris hurried out of the car when the chauffeur opened the door like he couldn’t wait to get away from his spouse, who was right beside him, speaking to him. Nick saw her touch his hand gently and quickly kiss him on the lips. He didn’t let the kiss linger; he slyly pulled away from her. Nick could tell what sort of relationship they had. Another divorce was on the way.
The second limo pulled up to let out his second set of guests, a couple who were close friends of Zia. Nick sighed. He knew that two limos were his cue to come downstairs and greet the guests. Their selection of guests were not really his close friends, but people they knew were mega rich. It was great to have all those people coming to his event, but he was interested in just one car, his limo, and David, the chauffeur, was running late.
SARA
Even though I had earlier decided against drinking, now that I was really going to the party, I began to freak out. I looked in the mirror on the limo; I looked decent. I could see the diamond necklace. I had forgotten to take it off. I had let Amy persuade me to wear it, but I wouldn't keep it. I'd take it off as soon as the limo left, and I was far awa
y from Amy. I reached behind my neck to unclasp it. The limo driver looked at me through the mirror and smiled.
"You should keep it on. It suits you."
"Thank you," I smiled. "But it's really not mine."
"Well, it suits you very well. Better than anyone else.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, but I murmured thank you though I was quietly steaming inside. Did David really mean that Nick Saunders gave this same necklace to a million other women? It was insulting that he would send me a necklace his ex-girlfriends have worn.
Suddenly, the necklace seemed to have caught fire on my neck, and I tried to yank it off, not caring about being careful. The diamond necklace that had graced my neck now seemed like a whore’s accessory. How dare he think he can do that to me? I calmed down as I realized that he hadn’t done anything to me; rather, he had sent that to the real Sara Nolles. So what was she? His sex-toy?
I looked at the driver, debating whether to ask him what he meant, but he had turned his focus back to the road. He probably wouldn't discuss his boss's escapades, and it wouldn’t be right for me to push him. For a moment, I toyed with asking the driver to take me back home and giving the stupid necklace to him, but if I did go home, Amy was waiting for me.
Suddenly I was mad. Did these women even know that he was using them? Or did he just think that because he could buy anything in the world, he had a right to buy women? My anger changed to disbelief, then anger again. How dare he think I was a whore? Or was the real Sara Nolles really a whore?
"Ma'am, if you'd like some water...” the driver began, but I was already pulling out a bottle of very expensive wine.
"Thanks," I said, tight-lipped. I opened the bottle and poured myself a glass, careful not to spill it on myself. I was not a wine person and didn't drink liquor or alcohol, but I felt like I needed that glass. Maybe even two glasses. The first glass to calm my fraying nerves and convince myself that attending this party was okay. And the second glass to calm my anger at Nick Saunders for peddling a necklace among all his girlfriends like they were nothing.
