The Millionaire's Secret

by Susan Stevens

  “Are you a super whiz at DDR, then?” Keith asked her. “Since you’re a dancer?”

  “I’ve never played,” she replied, with a shrug. “I imagine I’ll probably suck at it though.”

  “Can we let Behati upstairs?” Adam asked. “We’ve just had a long plane ride. Too long, thanks to delays.”

  “Did you expect us to control the airports too, Adam?” Liam asked, leaning against the counter. Adam grinned.

  “Eventually. I’m sure that was a dream of Father’s as well.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a video game,” Behati said, to answer Keith, who was waiting like a puppy dog. “I just need a shower first.”

  “Coffee, love?” Adam asked, and she shook her head.

  “Nah, I’ll be fine. The water will wake me up,” she said, thumping up the stairs, remembering a grand shower just to the left of the staircase. Once upstairs, the interest in the new person disappeared, and Liam and Keith melted into other parts of the house. Only then, that they were alone, did Rick speak again to Adam.

  “10 years, hmm?”

  “10 years,” Adam said, watching Behati disappear up the stairs. “I can’t say it has been a nightmare. It certainly won’t be a traditional divorce.”

  “Well, it wasn’t a traditional marriage, either,” Rick replied, and Adam glanced up sharply.

  “Please, don’t tell the others. If Behati and I have our way, we can dissolve this as quietly as it was made. She is no longer in need of my citizenship nor my name. And I would like her name cleared o the family before we venture into…other things,” he glanced at Rick knowingly. “For her own protection.”

  “Another man would think you love this girl, Adam,” Rick said and his brother glared at him.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It was convenient, at the time,” he said. “Marrying Behati made her very grateful, if you know what I mean.”

  “I see,” Rick replied, glancing at the clock on the wall. “We’re do on a conference call in 5 minutes.”

  “Right,” Adam followed his brother to the office. He was tired and jet lagged, but for the Katz’s, business never stopped, especially as they took on a new venture.

  Once upstairs, in the privacy of the bathroom, Behati took out her overnight kit, and unzipped the pocket. She filled the syringe half way and smacked the vein in her arm a few times. The plane ride was long and she wasn’t sure she would make it into the house without twitching. And as much as Adam tolerated her life style, she was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to tolerate a drug addiction. It was even something she wasn’t proud of herself. But what was wrong with feeling good once in awhile?

  Her shower felt blissful after her fix, the water running over her body, relaxing her tight muscles.

  She stepped out when she felt like her skin would burn, and dressed in a thigh skimming cotton dress, that left little to the imagination. She left her hair down, in waves around her face, and he did her makeup. Even off stage, there was a mask to wear, a character to embody, someone she needed to be. Performing since she was a child, Behati didn’t know who she was without character.

  A month without performing would be the longest she had ever spent off a stage since she was 12 years old. It was going to be blissful, and yet, strange, that no one would be staring at her every moment, that no rehearsals would start at done, and the hair and makeup would all be her own.

  Downstairs, the voices of the Katz brothers were coming from different parts of the house. She could hear Rick and Adam on a call in the office, and Keith laughing at the video game in the living room. Liam was nowhere to be heard, and she wondered where the most beautiful of the brothers had gone off to.

  Her skin still tingling, she decided to explore the house, remember the rooms, before she tried to maintain a normal conversation.

  The downstairs still had the wood paneling she remembered, shiny as if it were brand new. The house was old, and was once a boarding school, so there were many rooms that the boys used for various things. If things ever went sour, they could probably run their whole business from here and move all their employees in as well.

  Upstairs was the bedrooms, enough to house an army of guests, she felt. It was the ballroom that she was looking for however, straight out of a movie. The grand staircase twisted around it, bringing everyone’s eye to whoever swept up and down it in a long gown. They had rented it out a few times to movie crew, and it had even doubled as Buckingham Palace once or twice. Behati enjoyed watching the films with another smirk, knowing the secrets that she and Adam had on that grand dance floor.

  On a whim, almost on instinct, Behati stretched out a long leg, bending down to the ground, and then the other. She closed her eyes, imagining a full orchestra playing in the room, surrounded by hundreds of swirling dancers. This was a dance floor of old, where Kings and Queens would come, and bring their eligible daughters to meet Princes, and have great marriages. Marriages of convenience, for mutual gain, much like her own.

  She stood straight, taking first position, and then pulled her leg up straight, at a 90-degree angle. It was a move that she could do since her very first day in class, with naturally flexible limbs. Dancers had to have a very particular body type, and she knew she was lucky to be born with it.

  She didn’t know how long she danced for, fueled by chemical energy, but she did know it was awhile. When she finally ran out of breath and opened her eyes, she was startled to see she had an audience.

  “Cool,” Keith said, his eyes wide. “How do you do that?”

  “Instinct,” she replied, trying to catch her breath. “And the fact that I’ve been doing it since I was a child.”

  “Don’t you get nervous? Up in front of thousands of people?”

  She shrugged.

  “You can’t even see them, with the stage lights in the way. And you don’t even think, most of the time. You just dance.”

  “I want a job where I don’t have to think,” Keith said and she rolled her eyes.

  “I’m quite sure your brothers will enjoy that,” she replied, and behind her, Adam cleared his throat.

  “I’m already under the impression that you don’t think, Keith,” he said, with a slight smile. “In honour of Behati’s arrival, shall we order in?”

  “PIZZA!” Keith went tearing from the room, making Behati laugh.

  “He’s adorable.”

  “He’s also a trouble maker, so watch out. If Keith tells you to do something, it’s probably not a good idea to do it.”

  “I think I’ve handled much worse,” she smiled, going to hug him. “Aren’t you tired?”

  “Exhausted,” he revealed. “But business doesn’t stop.”

  “Now that I’m actually here, are you going to tell me what you do?”

  “Everything and nothing,” he smiled tightly, shifting to wrap an arm around her waist. “And the moment, we have large shares in transport trucks, and we are working on new clients to use the trucks.”

  “Call the zoo, I would love to see an elephant transported,” she replied, and he laughed.

  “Now that would be interesting,” he said. “I have also called the Latvian consulate. What they need first is proof of your papers from the state, saying that you were a ward of the state placed in foster care. Do you have any of that?”

  She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.

  “I lived out of a suitcase in a hotel room for 2 years. If anyone has it, it’s them.”

  “Perhaps the last set of foster parents you had?” he suggested, as they strolled towards the kitchen. She felt alive with energy, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling. When there was no audience, and no one to please, it was such a natural high to dance just for herself. Of course, there was the chemical high that she enjoyed as well.

  “Humph,” she replied, thinking. “Maybe. How long before food gets here? Do we have time for a tryst?” She snuggled, remembering his firm body, and how it used to make her feel in the dark. If they were to divorce and never meet again,
especially at night, she would feel a sense of loss, at the very least.

  His hand slipped lower, down her back and came to rest on the top of her butt, small but firm. He groaned, low in his throat, as he bent to kiss her.

  “Perhaps tonight, my dear, if you would allow a visit to your rooms.”

  “It’s like you’re the king and I’m your hooker,” she replied.

  “You’re the queen,” he answered after a moment, nipping at her ear. “That the king visits for pleasure, among other things.”

  “mmm,” if she wanted to, she knew she could push him over the edge, then and there. But she pulled back, enjoying the lingering pleasure that continued after his touch was removed. Delayed gratification was a good reward as well. “Pizza for dinner it is. I’m starving.”

  “You’ve lost a bit of weight,” he said, as they headed towards the kitchen. “Forgive me if it’s a sore topic. Are you well?”

  “Sure,” she didn’t look at him. “Just working hard lately. Everyone knew I was taking time off, so it felt like there was a last minute rush. And I’m a prima, yes, but I’m also one of the ones they loan out all the time.”

  “So you can work for other companies?” he asked. “Your contract is not exclusive?”

  “No?” she replied, confused. “I thought you knew that. Did you have something in mind?”

  “Maybe nothing yet,” he said, with a twinkle. “But I’ll keep you posted.”

  She paused at a large piece of artwork on the wall, depicting the two famous comedy and drama masks. It was beautiful, done in oil, and flawless. From up close or far away, it caught the eye. Behati had always loved those masks, feeling like they stood for everything in her life. Theatre, sadness, happiness, how things could easily change.

  “That’s stunning,” she said and Adam nodded.

  “Liam painted it.”

  “Really?” she turned her head to him in shock. “Man, you got a whole family full of artists, don’t you?”

  “He’s always painted,” Adam said. “It’s what he used to do when Father was around. Obviously, Father was not…pleasant to him.”

  “I know what it’s like to be an unwanted child,” Behati said, fiddling with her hair. “My records state that both my parents were present when I was given up. They just decided to ditch me, throw me out and get on with their lives.”

  Adam’s face softened.

  “I didn’t know.”

  She shrugged.

  “Clearly, didn’t make much of a difference. I’m where I want to be, doing what I want to be. Maybe, if they had kept me, they wouldn’t have approved of dance or something and I’d be working at McDonalds.”

  “We often end up where we are meant to,” he said, after a moment, and continued to lead her to the kitchen. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

  “Right,” she tried to put it out of her head. “Well, let’s enjoy tonight, because tomorrow is going to start off like a nightmare. Boring paperwork. Do you have any wine?”

  “In the fridge,” he replied, enjoying the sight of her behind going to get the glasses. He could have made a worse choice, for a wife, he supposed. For her sake, though, he hoped it would be over soon and she would be free and clear, what she wanted, and what he needed, to protect her.

  CHAPTER 3

  “What do you mean it’s not the right papers?” Behati practically slammed her head against the table. This was their second visit to the caseworker at the consulate today, and the second time they were being sent away.

  “I need the papers from your caseworker at the agency,” she said, and Behati blew out a breath.

  “Listen, I went off the rails somewhere around 13 and booked it to Latvia. You guys should have evidence of me working.”

  “And listen to me,” the case worker said, looking between the two of them. “Somehow, you two got a loophole in the system. Behati, you didn’t exist and if you did, you were a minor, with no one to sign for you. You got married, but the divorce is going to require an even bigger loophole. Are you sure you two don’t want to consider counselling?”

  Behati wanted to scream in her face that it was a sham marriage, but that would probably lead to arrest. She knew that Adam and herself didn’t exactly portray a typical divorcing couple, but they didn’t protray a typical married couple either, so what did it matter?

  “I’ll make some calls,” the lady said, at last. “Stand by tomorrow, and I’ll see if I can get anything done.”

  “Great,” Behati stood, sighing. She was particularly on edge because they had been out longer than expected, without any of her things. Particularly, the syringes that were hiding in her bathroom cabinet. She was good at hiding it, but they had been out for 10 hours, running back and forth, and she was getting twitchy. “Fine, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Thank you for your time,” Adam said, gracious and polite as always. It was one of the things she admired about him. He was never unkind, even if people were rude to him, or things weren’t going his way. “Hopefully, we’ll hear from you tomorrow.”

  “Why didn’t you just scream that she was being an incompetent idiot?” Behati asked, as they made their way to the car.

  “What would that have accomplished, love?” he asked. “I had a feeling that this was going to be difficult. Thank you for enduring it so far.”

  “No problem,” she replied, buckling her seat belt. “We’re going straight home, right?”

  “If you wish,” he said, pulling out onto the road. “Behati, there’s something I wish to speak to you about.”

  “Hmm?” she was fiddling with dirt under her nails, a nervous habit, and watching the clock. She calculated that now, in traffic, they would be home in 18 minutes, and she could be upstairs in 20 minutes, as long as no one stopped her. She dug her nails into her thigh to stop the trembling, and turned to Adam with a fake smile.

  “I’ve noticed that you’ve been on edge lately,” he said, turning a corner. Her eyes widened as she turned her head to him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just simply that it’s clear that you miss dance. I’m sorry you had to take time out of your career to be here to sort this out, I wish that there was another way.”

  “Oh, that,” she let out a breath, glad that she hadn’t been caught. “Sure, I guess. I thought I would like having a break, but I feel kind of …bored. Not that you guys aren’t fun.”

  He smiled.

  “No offense taken. The owner of Kulanu theatre has recently become a client of ours, and I understand they are having closed auditions next week. If you’d like, I could arrange that you could attend. I know auditioning is something you haven’t done in awhile…”

  “No, auditioning would be great,” she said, closing her eyes. The Kaluna theatre wasn’t anything spectacular, but she had always liked it. During the first world war, it had been a hiding place for many, and she always felt like there were great shows that came out of it, experimental works that weren’t tried anywhere else. It was the Kaluna theatre that had the ballerina dancing enpointe on top of steak knives. Behati always had a fascination with experimental and new theatre, all things she wasn’t allowed to do in the traditionalist Latvian National Ballet. “Can’t you go any faster?”

  “I’m going as fast as I can, love,” he replied, eyeing her. “Is there some reason you need to be at home.”

  “Skype call, with the theatre,” she lied. “In Latvia. Just to say hi to the girls.”

  “Right,” he glanced at the time. “It’s 2am in Latvia.”

  She shrugged, with a devilish smile.

  “And I’m quite sure they are up to no good. Can’t wait.”

  “Mm,” Adam replied, his mind already on other things. The Bluetooth rang in the car, interrupting them and Adam clicked the button on the steering wheel. Behati raised an eyebrow.

  “Fancy, old man,” she said, and he smirked as the call clicked on.

  “Got to stay with the times,” he replied. “Hello?” />
  “Adam,” it was Rick’s voice that came through the stereo system, flat and monotone as always. On first impression, Behati hadn’t much liked Rick. She didn’t see why he had any reason to be depressed, with a successful life and a family that clearly cared about him. But the more she was around him, the more she realized that depression wasn’t always as it seemed. And it unexpectedly warmed her heart that to see the way Adam and Rick got along; the older always referring to the younger, including him and taking care of him. “Maurice is here.”

  “Maurice is at the house?” Adam said, clearly surprised. “Now?”

  “Yes. He wants to speak with you and only you.”

  “I’ll be there in 5. Please keep him busy,” Adam clicked off, his face furrowed.

  “Who’s Maurice?” Behati asked, momentarily distracted from counting down the metres until they were home on the GPS. It didn’t used to be like this. When it started, it was a leisure activity, something for fun, a social thing. She enjoyed the energy it gave her, the high and the lift.. but it took more and more to satisfy her cravings lately, and more frequently. She was running out of the supply she brought over, smuggled partly in her bag, partly on her body, and she wondered where she would find another dealer in such an uptight area.

  “He’s one of our new clients,” Adam said, tightly. “Behati, when we get home, I don’t want you hanging around, alright? Is there somewhere you can be?”

  “You’re embarrassed by me?” She glanced at her reflection in the mirror. The large hoop earrings and mess of red hair made her look like a gypsy today, but she didn’t think she looked particularly trashy.

  “Not at all,” he replied. “Maurice is not a good person to meet.”

  “Then why are you doing business with him?” she asked and Adam sighed.

  “That, my dear, is something I asked myself. Is that alright?”

  “Fine,” she replied, as they pulled into the driveway. They used the side door, which was normally reserved for the servants, and Adam gave her a kiss on the cheek, a gesture she was coming to appreciate it, before pointing her up the stairs.