The Hot Billionaires Box Set

by Nella Tyler

  “Briella.” Nina would have told me to give him a fake name, but he seemed trustworthy. “Do you live around here?” It wouldn’t hurt to get a little information. At least, nothing too personal.

  Dexter nodded. “Yes, not too far from here. Do you not? Live here, that is, or near here?”

  He was nervous. I couldn’t fathom what made him so jittery, but he seemed like a nervous high school boy asking me on a date. Something about it was incredibly charming, and it made me feel a little more at ease. I wasn’t dealing with some overly confident, swaggering asshole with a ton of money. “No, I don’t live here. I’m from Houston. I just came here for a vacation, and here specifically for a drink.” The Amelie seemed to have decent rum and Cokes, and the price wasn’t unreasonable.

  “Can I get you a drink? Or, another?” Dexter glanced at the glass in my hand. I’d only had half of it, and didn’t intend on drinking much more than the rest of this.

  The bartender seemed to materialize out of nowhere. “I’ll refill hers,” she said. When Dexter wasn’t looking, she winked at me, and I rolled my eyes. She reminded me of Nina, who I could already tell was going to be pissed when she found out I’d met a guy at a bar and didn’t immediately go to the restroom to inform her.

  He ordered a drink, too, something neater and stronger than mine. “You came here from Houston, you said? Florida’s quite a ways away.”

  “That’s the point of a vacation,” I reminded him. “My friend decided to take me. She’s taking a nap.”

  “And missing the bar?”

  “I know. Considering it was her idea, it’s weird, but this way she’ll be energetic tomorrow.” I wondered if Nina had any plans for our time here or if we were going to wander the city aimlessly, looking for drinks and a good time. We could just club, but we could club in Houston and save lots of money—coming to Florida was supposed to be for something exciting and new, not just more days and days hoping for love in a sweaty room full of strangers. It would be like her to charge into a vacation without plans.

  As if reading my mind, Dexter asked, “Do you have any plans set up? Disney World or anything?”

  I shook my head. “Not really. We were going to go to the beach, for sure, if the weather holds up.”

  “It’s a good time of year for the beach,” he said. “You’ve got Galveston right up by Houston, don’t you?”

  I laughed. He clearly hadn’t spent a lot of time in Texas. “It’s not very far, but it’s definitely not close. About an hour and a half. Besides, we wanted to get really far out. Galveston’s so familiar now.”

  “I’ve never been. What’s it like there?”

  “It’s not what it used to be. Well, according to my dad, anyway. But I’ve always liked it. It has a sort of an old Southern city vibe to it. The beaches aren’t as blue as they are here, but honestly, I just love the ocean.”

  Dexter smiled at me, and I was honestly having a nice time being asked about myself. It felt a little selfish to be taking all the stage in this conversation, so I decided to ask him a few questions about himself.

  “Where do you go, when you go on vacation?” I asked him. “Probably not Galveston.” I looked at his suit again, and I knew in my gut that he wasn’t going to Galveston for vacation. If he was, he wasn’t going to the tourist locations. I expected him to say Paris, or London, someplace intercontinental and exciting. My mind went to places with penthouses, places with people serving cocktails on silver trays. It was highly ridiculous, but that’s what I thought of, and I had a hard time separating him from that image.

  He looked for a moment like he was trying to determine the correct answer to my simple question. “I’ve always had a soft spot for New York,” he finally said.

  This surprised me. “Oh?” I’d expected him to admit that he had some sort of elite European retreat that he hid out in, like rich people I saw in movies.

  “Yeah. It’s busy, and loud, and hectic, but sometimes I need that. I go there for business stuff sometimes, and I always try to catch a show. It’s a beautiful space.” Dexter looked a little distracted for a second as though he were going back to New York in his mind.

  I found it to be a good answer, but I didn’t quite buy it. “Really? I’d had you made out to be a deluxe suite in Paris kind of guy.” If I offended him, it wouldn’t matter; he’d be gone, and I’d be gone, and nothing would have ever happened. This was completely harmless.

  Dexter’s smile, coupled with the slight smirk he adapted, made my heart jump. “Well, it isn’t my go-to,” he said.

  A shiver went up my spine. He was wealthy, and I had no way of knowing exactly how wealthy he was or who he was involved with. Was he a businessman? A lawyer? Maybe he was born of a wealthy family, or maybe he was a self-made man. He could be a designer, or a model. I was willing to bet money that he was a model. I smiled at him, returning that cock of the brow, and then I got off the barstool.

  I was getting attached. Despite myself, I could feel a crush starting to form. It was best to leave the scene now, before I could commit the crime of attachment. “I have to get back to my hotel,” I said. “It’s pretty late.”

  “I can walk you, if you’d like.” Dexter glanced outside. “It’s dangerous at night.”

  I couldn’t help but think that it was hilarious that a rich man from Florida could protect me. I could certainly protect myself. I knew that it had nothing to do with my safety, though, and the fact that he wanted to spend a little more time with me excited me despite myself.

  “Sure,” I said, and he walked out of the restaurant with me. I thought of the blonde woman from earlier and wondered how she’d gotten home. I didn’t ask; I didn’t want to bring her up, in case he was lying to me. I could live in blissful ignorance a few moments longer.

  The streets were a little too loud for much conversation, so really, he just followed me back to my hotel. Every now and again I turned around to see if he’d left, but he was still there. I wondered if having someone follow me back to my hotel room was really the wisest idea. He could have lied to me about his entire life, after all. For all I knew, I was about to get murdered.

  I got back to my hotel room without a scratch, though, and when I reached the lobby, I decided not to let him know exactly where I was staying. “I’ll go up alone,” I told him.

  Dexter looked a little disappointed. “Right. Um…” He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck. “I, ah…do you want to get dinner sometime? If you don’t have plans tomorrow, I know a place.”

  This incredibly attractive and possibly wealthy man was asking me on a date. I let that sink in, and then I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t. I’m just here for the week.”

  “I understand.” He smiled and took a step back as if to physically represent that he was going to leave me alone. I appreciated that; I’d experienced boys relentlessly pestering me after I’d told them no before.

  I waved goodnight to him and got in the elevator. Once the doors closed, I exhaled, rubbing my temples with my fingers. I’d just turned down the offer. I could be going on a date tomorrow night with a wealthy, attractive man. I could have probably even gotten laid, or at least a very expensive meal out of the equation. It would have been nice to be held for once, instead of feeling like the world was trying to cast me out.

  Then I thanked my brain for intervening and stopping me from making a horrible decision. I’d come to Florida to get away from relationships and focus on having fun for a while. It was best not to get involved with anyone while I was here. It was absurd to think anything substantial could manifest over a few days anyway, and we couldn’t possibly have enough in common that this would get out of hand.

  I could manage staying out of trouble for a few days, couldn’t I?

  Chapter 7

  Dexter

  I racked my brain all night with ideas of what to do. I couldn’t think of a solution to the problem I’d gotten myself into, and I knew I needed to talk to someone. First thing Tuesday mo
rning, I drove to my brother’s house, hoping that maybe he could shed some insight on my problem. Tyler was an ass, no question, and he didn’t take anything seriously. That was exactly the kind of point of view I needed for this problem, though. I’d hated my blind date and now I was infatuated with someone else based on a 10-minute conversation and a quick walk to her hotel room.

  Tyler’s house was in a much less well-to-do part of the neighborhood than mine. Despite his inherited money and the amount of money he made at his job, Tyler lived modestly, mostly because he tended to blow his money on parties and women he met over weekends abroad. I couldn’t help but envy him sometimes, living like nothing in the world had any consequence. For him, nothing did. For me, everything did. At the same time, I knew I wasn’t cut out to be irresponsible, so it was for the best that he was the one acting up while I took care of being an adult.

  I knocked on his front door, using the ridiculous knocker he’d bought a few years ago. When father visited, he’d told him that Tyler ought to be living somewhere nicer, and in response, Tyler added a few luxury items that looked absolutely absurd on his home. One was this extremely well-crafted gold door knocker.

  Tyler answered the door in sweatpants and a T-shirt. “Hey,” he said.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  “It is 10 o’clock in the goddamn morning.”

  “Yes.”

  “Go away.” Tyler tried to close the door, and I caught it.

  “Tyler, come on. I get that being nocturnal is hard in a diurnal society, but I need to talk.” I expected him to close the door on me anyway, but he held it open with a sour expression on his face.

  “Fine,” he said. “But I have to make coffee first.”

  I stayed quiet while he made coffee, knowing better than to try and engage him before he’d sufficiently caffeinated for the day. I sat down at his kitchen table and watched him shuffle around the kitchen while the coffee brewed, and then he drank half the mug in one go before refilling it to sit down.

  “All right. What’s the problem?” Tyler asked.

  “I went on the date last night. Hey, why aren’t you at work?”

  “I never show up. I’m a shit employee, remember? How’d the date go?”

  I sighed. “It… It wasn’t great. Tiffany is kind of…she’s not my type.”

  “Is she a bitch?”

  “Don’t talk about women like that,” I retorted.

  Tyler raised his eyebrows at me.

  “Maybe a little,” I conceded. “But that’s not…she’s just not my type. I’m sure there’s plenty of people who she could get along with fine. But she treated the waiter terribly and all she wanted to talk about was fashion.”

  “I told you so,” Tyler said.

  “That’s not helpful.”

  “Not to you. But I told you so. I very much told you so.” Tyler took a sip of coffee. “Did you make plans to see her again?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t want to see her again.”

  “Told you so.”

  “Tyler!”

  He shrugged. “Well, what about the prosperity of the company and that whole speech you gave me at the tailor’s?”

  I groaned. “Tyler, really, you don’t have to rub it in.”

  “I kind of do a little bit,” Tyler pointed out. “I do feel bad for you, though.”

  “Well, that’s not the worst of it,” I admitted. “The worst of it is that right after she left, I saw a woman at the bar.”

  Tyler raised his eyebrows as a sign for me to continue talking.

  “She was… she was unbelievably beautiful. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had to go talk to her, so I did, and she was also really cute and charming and great.” I wanted to bury my face in my hands. I should have walked out of The Amelie at the first chance I got. Now, I was in a whole mess because of my inability to make decent decisions.

  “Damn. Did you hook up with her?” Tyler asked.

  “No!” I shook my head furiously. “No, we just talked for a little while and had a good conversation about Galveston. I walked her back to her hotel, but just the lobby. It was probably weird to walk her back at all.”

  “Shit, dude. What did she look like? Tiffany’s pretty cute, too,” Tyler pointed out.

  “She is, but… I don’t know. She’s like every other rich girl in Florida,” I said. “Which is fine. And there are people who like that. But Briella’s just different. She’s not as tall, but she’s got this amazing smile…” I debated for a moment whether or not it was racist to bring up that she was black, or whether it was racist for me to not know whether I could bring it up. It was neither here nor there to me; Tyler asked what she looked like, and that was a physical descriptor. I didn’t really want to know if Tyler was a horrible racist, though, so I kept that out.

  “Ew, never mind.” Tyler rolled his eyes. “I forgot you’re a sap. Do you know what her deal is? She could be an equally good business opportunity or whatever her deal was that made Dad set you up with Tiffany.”

  I shook my head. “Unlikely. She lives in Houston. She just came to Florida for vacation, apparently. I don’t think she’s in the upper one percent or whatever. Just kind of a tourist.” I didn’t like referring to her as ‘just a tourist.’

  “So she’s only going to be here for, what, a few days?”

  “I don’t know.” I hadn’t thought to ask her. “I asked her out to dinner, and she said no.”

  Tyler winced. “Yikes. Well, you need to act fast if you’re going to get anywhere with her.”

  I raised my eyebrow at him. “You’re suggesting that I should go for something with her in the first place.”

  “Yeah. I mean, why not? Dad gave you the week off. You can have a really great week, have fun with this girl, and then at the end of it, you can go back to being boring and having a desk job and shit. You could probably still get married to Tiffany.”

  I didn’t like the dodgy way that Tyler set up the situation. I didn’t want to see someone under the pretense that it wasn’t going to last or work. At the same time, that was exactly what I was looking for. Before last night, I had fully accepted the possibility that I would go through life without any excitement and just work until I died. Now, at least I could experience some fun before I entered a serious relationship. And Tiffany and I weren’t really in a relationship, anyway. I couldn’t cheat on someone I wasn’t dating.

  “What do you think I should do?” I asked him. “Go and live this week up like it doesn’t matter?”

  “That’s what I would do. You’re the good brother. Dad will have to forgive you. What’s the worst that can happen? A little sadness?” Tyler shrugged. “Dad’ll get pissed, sure, but he’ll forgive you pretty quickly. Especially once he remembers that either he forgives you or deals with me forever.”

  I nodded. I’d made up my mind now. Even if it seemed like a terrible idea, I had to at least try my hand at seeing Briella. She’d already denied me once; maybe I’d go to her hotel, and she’d deny me again, and the whole problem would be gone. But I had to at least try, because if it never got resolved, I would never know if there was some chance that something could have happened. I couldn’t bear to be responsible for a missed opportunity like that.

  I drove back up to her hotel, newly determined. Of course, I wouldn’t push her; if she didn’t want to see me, she didn’t want to see me, and no amount of coaxing on my part would change that. But I could certainly try to get her to give me a chance. If she was on vacation, maybe we were both looking for something short and inconsequential. Temporary fulfillment might be dangerous in the long haul, but my long haul included Tiffany fucking DuBois.

  When I reached the lobby, I realized another problem. I didn’t know where Briella was staying exactly, and unless I was going to wait here until she came down, I had no way of finding out. I walked up to the front desk and decided to ask.

  “Hey, do you know where a girl named Briella is staying?” I asked.

  “Room 4430,” the w
oman behind the counter said, without even looking up from her phone. I went on my way to the fourth floor and knocked on room 4430.

  When the door opened, it wasn’t Briella. Another woman, also very attractive, stood at the doorway. She was much shorter than Briella, and she looked like she’d been woken from a nap. “Hey. Hey, are you room service?” She rubbed at one eye and set her free hand against the door frame, almost posing across the entrance.

  “I—no, I’m Dexter.” The response was so stupid and underdeveloped in my head that I could only wish for my own death in that instant. “Um, I must have the wrong room.”

  “Maybe.” The woman looked me up and down rather bluntly, and I felt almost the way that I felt in business meetings. Very much like a piece of meat and very much like I was about to get devoured. “But, you might also be at the right room.”

  I didn’t understand what she meant, but imagined she was insinuating she was glad I was there after all. She was perfectly attractive, but I didn’t really like the idea of hooking up with strangers, and besides, I had someone that I was trying to find. She wasn’t the woman I was looking for. “No, I really think I have the wrong room. I should be going.”

  I turned to go, and before I could get out into the hall, I heard a familiar voice.

  “Wait, what are you doing here?”

  I turned around and saw Briella standing in the room. She wore a pair of leggings and a T-shirt, and her wet hair up in a bun on top of her head. The smell of shampoo was strong in the air, and I realized she’d just come out of the shower.

  “You know him?” The woman looked at Briella. This woman was her friend, then.

  “We only talked for a little while,” I assured her friend. “Just a few minutes. I had asked you yesterday if you wanted to meet me for dinner.”