The Billion Dollar Wedding: The Honeymoon Collection

by Cynthia Dane

  “She’s bold, showing her face after what she did to Hyacinth Winchester,” some old biddy said, not even hiding her voice. “I heard Mr. Cole had to pay for the cleaning…”

  “The closer we get to this wedding, the more I suspect something is afoot. She must be pregnant. I suspect an iron-clad prenup and then she’s out in another two years when he finds her replacement. Hopefully a proper woman this time. Sometimes a man of a certain age – thirty, of course – doesn’t realize he doesn’t have to settle down with the first tart who pays attention to him for more than a year. I’m still going to the wedding, though. I’m sure it will be divine, and I want to show off the outfit I got in Paris.”

  “The audacity of her coming here… doesn’t she know the owner is a friend of Lady Winchester’s grand-niece?”

  Jasmine walked quickly past the gossipers, but it didn’t shield her from them. I don’t give a fuck who the owner knows. Jasmine knew the owner too. They weren’t friends, but sometimes when she was around the owner would come out and chat with Jasmine. It pissed people off, and Jasmine was starting to appreciate that.

  The other regulars were there. People Jasmine was never formally introduced to, thank goodness. Yet there was one regular, Kathryn, who took up a whole table in the corner, swigging a bottle of red wine as she poured over binders and tablets full of important-looking information. Jasmine caught a glimpse of colorful graphs, charts, and printed emails covered in E-signatures. She sat a good distance from Kathryn, but the blonde remained the one person who never once looked up to laugh at Jasmine’s presence. She was too deep in thought to care about scandals.

  Jasmine placed her order and flipped open a notebook she stuffed in her purse that morning. After clicking a ballpoint pen to life she wrote down the title “THINGS I WANT TO DO” and tried to come up with a bucket list of sorts. Except every time her pen hovered over the lined paper, her brain kept going back to what she should write and not what she wanted to write.

  The only thing she could come up with by the time her lunch arrived was a list of places around the world she wanted to visit for the first time or for the umpteenth time… with or without Ethan. Could I do that? Could I make traveling the world my hobby? Plan a trip from home one month and then go on it the next? Jet off to Japan, South Africa, Brazil for a week… experience foreign cultures and shopping? Maybe she would become one of those rich bitches who traveled to be a tourist and shop. She heard the jewels of Southeast Asia were the most exquisite anyone could ask for. Maybe it was time to take that trip to Thailand she always wanted to go on… and to Burma. Or was it Myanmar now? She couldn’t remember which direction those names went in.

  Jasmine knew that she could ask Ethan for the money to go wherever she wanted. She could also use the opportunity to curate collections that would at least impress the locals, even if they still didn’t like her personally. “Jasmine Cole cordially invites you to a private viewing of her recent acquisitions.” Whatever those acquisitions were… those country club snobs wouldn’t be able to say no. And then plot how they were going to legally acquire those pieces from her! That’s how I’ll make money. Reselling. Jasmine laughed to herself over soup and a sandwich. Yeah, right.

  She texted Selena throughout lunch. When she mentioned her current plight to find something meaningful to do for her own self-satisfaction, her friend replied, “Don’t you remember what we were always told in school? When in doubt and floundering about, volunteer, asshole.”

  Oh, right. Volunteering was a thing. Jasmine had already forgotten that it wasn’t just about public relations. Most of the women she knew did volunteers and charities to keep up appearances with the press… and because it was a wonderful, tax-free way to move some money around. Jasmine was already becoming too jaded, and she wasn’t married to the billionaire yet!

  After she finished her lunch, she looked up. Still sitting across from her on the other side of the restaurant was Kathryn, punching a wadded up piece of paper into her fist and mumbling something. She actually cares about what she does… Kathryn mostly did her charity stuff pro-bono, and not because it made her look good. Most people who knew her knew about her temper… they let her get away with it because she was the richest woman in her own right. Until Adrienne Thomas stole the title, anyway.

  “She’s running herself ragged with this charity she’s trying to start up. Nobody will help her since they’re all busy with their own bullshit, or so they say.”

  When Jasmine suddenly put her mind to something, it was difficult to convince her that it was a terrible idea. Granted, this was how she got herself into so many spots over the past few years. Remember that time you decided it was a great idea to fuck Ethan over? Twice? Jasmine shuddered in embarrassment, but she quickly shoved that out of her mind as she marched up to Kathryn’s table and unabashedly peered at the figures on her papers. Wow, this is a mess. Didn’t Kathryn have a personal assistant to deal with these things?

  Kathryn dropped her pen and looked at Jasmine with nothing short of surprise on her face. “Can I help you?” she asked, almost sarcastically. I say almost, because there’s no way to know with this woman.

  “Is this for that shelter you’re trying to start up?”

  “Uh… yeah. Why? You coming over to help, or are you here to distract me? I’m on a deadline. Also, I’m meeting someone in about half an hour.”

  “Don’t mind me.”

  “You’re sort of in my personal space. How am I not supposed to mind you?”

  That cat I gave her better have done some good… this woman is more tense than a tightrope. Is that what it was like to grow up filthy rich and still somehow manage to give a fuck about things outside of oneself? Jasmine would never know.

  “I meant don’t feel like you have to socialize with me because I came over here.” There were a million jokes Jasmine could have taken this conversation in, but she didn’t dare. Not in front of Kathryn, who only tentatively liked her. Or put up with her. Whichever it was. “I had heard on the grapevine that you were struggling getting this off the ground. Do you need help?”

  If Kathryn were still holding her pen, she would have dropped it. Again.

  “Do you have any charity, grant, or shelter experience?” She almost sounded hopeful.

  “Well, no… outside of mandatory volunteering in high school.” Before Kathryn could look more annoyed, Jasmine continued, “I’m an impeccable personal assistant, though. Need something looked up? I can do that in five seconds. Need shit organized? I once color coded the contents of my fridge based on perishability. I come with great recommendations. Ask my former employer.” Jasmine couldn’t help but grin at that one.

  “I’m sure I could get all sorts of recommendations from him.”

  “Point being, I got that job because of my polished résumé.” Jasmine couldn’t stop smiling. “Also because my fiancée has a thing for brunettes.”

  She thought Kathryn might scoff at her, but Jasmine received a pleasant countenance she could have never counted on. “Don’t I know about such men with hair fetishes,” she mused. “Anyway, why in the world would you want to help me?”

  “Quite frankly? I need something more meaningful to do with my time. Everyone knows you’re the queen of charity around here.” Jasmine was starting to learn how to play these banter games with her “peers.” Time for another sly comment. “Even if a lot say your ambitions are sometimes foolhardy.”

  “They do say that. I’ve learned to ignore them.”

  I need to learn that too. “Also, I like animals. A lot. I know everyone says that, but if I had to pick a single ‘cause,’ it would definitely be animals. Family friendly and I actually care.”

  “Go on.”

  “I’m not asking you to hire me. I’m asking you to let me help you. I’ve got the skills to do whatever you need on the administrative end. Even though I’m sure you have an assistant.”

  “I do. Unfortunately, her time is better spent on other projects of mine.” Kathryn h
ad to hide a grimace. “Projects that make money. You know. The boring shit.”

  Jasmine pulled out a chair adjacent to Kathryn’s and sat down without further invitation. “Let me help.”

  “Fine.” Kathryn shoved a folder in Jasmine’s direction. “These are a mess. Put them in some order that makes sense. I don’t care what kind, but I’ve got a presentation to make to a board next week, and it’s costing me valuable time to always search for what I need.”

  Jasmine could do that. She could go into Kathryn’s closet and organize it in a day. Well, depended on the size of the closet…

  She wasn’t just good at this type of job. She was also good at multitasking, which meant going through and organizing her papers while keeping an ear open to her surroundings. It was a habit she picked up shortly after joining the workforce: for who knew when a boss or someone would want her sudden attention? Good for the assistants who could keep their nose to the grindstone and not be perturbed by anything. Those didn’t last long. Not after the boss shouted five times to get their attention and then fired them while they still weren’t listening. Jasmine had seen that happen more than once – and that was when she was a temp.

  The biddies who had chided her existence now gaped in unquenchable curiosity. Kathryn glanced at them more than once, but she eventually stuck earbuds in her head and cranked up the Swedish folk rock on her phone.

  What the women thought… who knew. By this time tomorrow, half of high society would have heard about it. Jasmine could hear the conversations now. “Did you hear about Kathryn Alison taking on Jasmine Bliss – yes, that one – as her little protégé? Those Alisons really don’t like to listen to popular opinion, do they!” “I heard that they’re all swingers. If Ethan Cole doesn’t know about the ménage situation going on right beneath his nose, he’ll find out by the wedding.” “I always knew she was a slut.” “Which one?” “Pick one.”

  “You didn’t tell me we were having company.”

  Jasmine looked up from the folder. Kathryn pulled out an earbud and motioned for her boyfriend to sit down in the empty chair beside her. Jasmine pulled folders out of the way so there was enough room for Ian Mathers to pick up the wine bottle Kathryn had polished off during her stay.

  “See you saved some wine for me, you lush.”

  “Please. If you had to read through five pages of why nobody wants to give me land for my shelter, you would guzzle the wine too. Besides…” Kathryn pulled her hair over her shoulder, French tipped nails poking through golden strands. “I hold my alcohol well.”

  Ian coughed into his hand. “Bullshit.” He flashed a grin at Jasmine, who was beginning to wonder if she should take her leave and ask Kathryn if there was anything she could do to help from home. My mom would love this idea and would probably end up doing most of the work… Maybe she shouldn’t tell Luna. The details, anyway. “Wasn’t expecting to see you anytime soon. Good to know that Cole does let you out of his sight once in a while.”

  “Ian,” Kathryn scolded, albeit with the effort of a tired, wine-laden mother. “Don’t be trouble. We’ve got enough people looking in this direction.”

  “Let them look. If nothing else, they can be scandalized by this.” He whipped his hand behind Kathryn’s head and pulled her into a messy kiss so quickly that Jasmine jerked back in her seat – and Kathryn knocked over the empty wine bottle, fingernails flashing in the light as her fist opened and closed.

  “You are so incorrigible,” she muttered, wiping her mouth the moment she was released. “And a showoff.”

  “I’m having a great day. Closed a deal on that resort up in Vermont. That’s why I had to postpone.”

  “Good to know one of us is living it up.” Kathryn coaxed out a few more drops of wine and passed it to her boyfriend. “There. Now you can’t complain that I didn’t save you any.”

  For a non-married couple, they sure acted like a married one. Kathryn even tsked at a smudge on Ian’s chin and insisted on rubbing it with her napkin. Ian was completely unfazed by this mothering from his girlfriend. Then again, from what Jasmine understood, he was the last man to feel emasculated by such a thing. I hear a lot of rumors that their kink goes both ways… This power couple caused quite the stir when they went public with their relationship. In the open circles, everyone knew that they were both loaded and liable to one day be richer and more powerful than the Andrews. In private circles, people whispered that, well, Kathryn Alison is a domme… One would never guess now. About either of them.

  “So to what do we owe this pleasure?” Ian asked, shortly after ordering his own drink from the waiter. “Kathryn didn’t tell me she was with anyone else when she told me to get my ass down here and give her attention.”

  Kathryn covered her face, attempting to hide how bothered she was right now. “Could you maybe not flirt with her for five minutes…”

  “What! Please. That’s not flirting, is it Jasmine?”

  She shrugged. What else can I do?

  “Besides, if I ever do flirt with her, I know it’s because she won’t flirt back. You’d rather I flirt with someone who will get me in trouble?”

  “Dunno. What kind of trouble?”

  “The kind where I have to go to the Yukon to get away from your rage.”

  “Get us some gold while you’re there.”

  “I will send you pictures of my perfectly chiseled body personally panning for that gold, babe. Or maybe you’ll see me on that TV show my dad watches all the time. Like he’s ever spent a day of his life being ‘rugged.’”

  Jasmine was mildly fascinated by this level of banter. She and Ethan rarely engaged in such longwinded jokes at the other’s expense. Not that Ethan couldn’t joke, but his wit was sometimes so dry and salty that she couldn’t tell if he was being humorous or not. Ian, on the other hand, often came off as the biggest kid in the room when he didn’t have to be serious. These two either perfectly complement each other or they will have the biggest couple meltdown of the century. As long as it didn’t happen at Jasmine’s wedding, which they had both RSPV’d to.

  “Anyway,” Jasmine interrupted. “I was helping Kathryn with some of her work here.”

  The moment Ian’s eyebrow went up was the moment Kathryn spoke again. “Yes. Jasmine was so kind to volunteer to help me get this project off the ground. Unlike someone I sleep with.”

  “Did I mention closing on that resort today? I’m fifteen million dollars richer already. That’s my share.”

  Kathryn’s dramatic eye roll almost shook the table.

  “So, this is the part where I profusely thank Miss Bliss for saving me from more rants and tears. Thank you, Jasmine. You have done me quite the service.”

  “Do you want me to smack you in front of present company?’

  “Dunno. Would she like it?”

  Jasmine held up her hands. “If you two have things to do, I can be on my way. Email me anything you’d like me to help with,” she said to Kathryn.

  “Why are you suddenly interested in helping my dearest with her project?” Ian asked. “No offense, but you’re one of the last people I would have expected to step forward right now. Last I heard, you were planning a big wedding for me to get drunk and make a fool of myself at.”

  “Yes, I am busy, but a girl has to do something else than plan weddings, right?”

  “Wouldn’t know. I was under the impression that one of the funnest things to do when you have endless money is plan a wedding. Again, wouldn’t know.” That nudge went straight to Kathryn.

  “Don’t start.” Kathryn perched her chin on her hand, showing off what suspiciously looked like a wedding band – but on her right hand. I have no idea what these two are ever doing. Jasmine could barely keep up with her own life. She couldn’t imagine becoming the kind of busy-body who knew what everyone else was up to – and why. “If I may share, you said something about needing something else in your life?” That was directed at Jasmine.

  “Oh… well, yes. I did say that.” Jasmine cl
eared her throat, eyes cast down on the table. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking… there’s more to life than being a rich guy’s wife, right?”

  The couple exchanged wary looks. In one sentence, Jasmine had managed to kill the lively mood at the table. No more smiles. No more jokes. No one offering Jasmine any refreshments as Ian’s drink made its way to the table and sat by him, untouched.

  “Naturally,” Kathryn said, finally breaking the awkward silence. “God knows I don’t want to be no billionaire’s hausfrau.” She laughed. “I get that from my mother.”

  “Well, I mostly meant… I’m no good at it, so I might as well find something else that I’m good at and can make me happy, right?”

  More awkward silence. “That’s always a good idea.”

  “What?” Jasmine didn’t like the nerves prickling their way up her arms. “You both agree, don’t you? That I’m not cut out for such a thing…”

  “Well…”

  “That’s not to say…”

  “What have you heard?” Jasmine placed both fists on the table, knowing full well that she didn’t want to hear the answer, but that she had to. Paranoia wasn’t good enough. She needed to know the truth… even if she regretted asking later.

  “Heard?” Kathryn wasn’t playing dumb all of a sudden, was she? “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, please, I hear people saying shit about me all the time. Problem is, I can’t deduce how much of that they actually think is true and how much of it is bullshit for their friends. If I’m going to be the wife of one of the biggest modern businessmen any of you know, then I need to know exactly what people think of me. You’re both in the gossip circles, whether you like it or not. So what is it? Am I the most embarrassing choice Ethan could make?”

  “No,” Ian was quick to say. “At the end of the day, as long as you’re not a huge liability because of your scandalized family or whatever, nobody really cares who you marry. It’s just…”

  “Just what?”