How to Marry Another Billionaire

by Elise Sax

  “Ma…”

  “I’ve got apple cobbler back at the house. Who’s up for apple cobbler?” she announces.

  “I love me some apple cobbler,” Cole says. “Should we put the kids in my car or Rock’s?”

  “What the hell’s going on?” Rock demands.

  “Language, Rock,” his mother chastises him, wagging her finger. “There are children here.”

  Rock throws his hands up. “Fine.” He helps us get the kids belted into their car seats, and we drive away to his parents’ house. Rosalind, the children, my mother, and I are in one SUV. Beatrice, Cole, and Bessie are in another car, and Rock is with his mother in the third car.

  “What’s going on?” I ask Rosalind. “Spill. What’s the deal with Rock’s mother?”

  “She’s joined Operation Billionaire!” my mother answers for Rosalind. “Bessie called her and drafted her. She’s a very nice woman, Olivia. Did you know that she runs her ranch with her husband, but she’s really the business brain behind the scenes?”

  “She doesn’t mind that I’m trying to trap her billionaire son?” I ask.

  “Are you kidding? She thought Rock would never settle down. Now, she’s got the promise of four ready-made grandkids and more to come.”

  “More to come?” I ask.

  My mother arches an eyebrow. “You and I both know there are more to come.”

  “But she doesn’t even know me.”

  “I love that woman,” Rosalind tells me. “What a hard ass. She already did a background check on you and all of us. She had some ex-CIA guy do it.”

  So, she already knows that I’m married and that I’m trying to get her billionaire son to marry me.

  “I hear she’s already hired the wedding planner,” my mother says, excitedly.

  “But I’m still married,” I remind her.

  “Tomato. Tomahto.”

  Chapter 11

  Olivia

  “We’re on Clarke land now,” the driver tells us. We’re out in the wilds of Idaho. There’s nothing for miles except for the dark night, and I assume, nature.

  “How big is the ranch?” Rosalind asks him.

  “I don’t know, but definitely thousands of acres. The Clarkes bought out here over a hundred years ago. It’s been in the family all that time. But their son travels more than he’s here.”

  “He has a ranch on the property,” I tell Rosalind.

  “That’s true,” the driver says. “A few hundred acres on the prettiest land you’ll ever see. He set it up to be a horse ranch, but then he got crazy rich and left town. The house is still there. They keep it up nice. Rock was in the same high school class with my brother. I was a couple years ahead, and I went off to the military. Here we are.”

  Finally, there are lights in the distance. “That’s the main house straight ahead,” the driver explains. “And the other lights are the bunkhouses. The rest of the buildings are dark for the night. The cattle are a ways off. Organic, pasture-raised. That sort of thing. Over here, they have the horses.”

  “It’s an empire,” my mother breathes. “It’s like Dallas. I loved that show.”

  We follow the other two SUVs to the main house and park in front. Outside, a tall, good-looking, middle-aged man is waiting with his arms full of toys. Five dogs circle him excitedly. They’re shepherd and retriever mutts.

  “Where are those young’uns?” the man calls. “I got toys for days.”

  “Hush, Bill, they’re sleeping,” Lillian says, getting out of her car.

  “So, I have to wait until the morning? That’s not fair.” I get out of the car, and he ducks his head in. “Will you look at those beauties? I can’t wait to teach them to track bear.”

  Rock approaches and puts his hand on my lower back. “I’m sorry about my mother and father,” he says to me. “I don’t know what’s going on. Everyone’s gone crazy.” He nuzzles my neck for a second. “You smell great. I wish I could get you alone, but it’s the Brady Bunch right now.”

  We gather my sleeping children out of the car and walk inside. The house is gorgeous, even bigger than Cole’s, with exquisite artwork covering the walls. Large, comfortable furniture is everywhere. It’s homey in a Hearst castle meets John Wayne kind of way.

  Lillian leads us in, holding Bianca in her arms. Rock is holding Mick and Keith, and I’ve got Ronnie. We follow Lillian to a large bedroom in the back of the house. It’s completely furnished for the children. Four beds. Three are shaped like race cars, and one is set back in a pink alcove, decked out for a princess. The dogs find places on the beds next to my children, as if they’ve decided to stand guard for the night.

  “When did you do this?” Rock asks his mother.

  “Oh, you know,” she says, vaguely.

  We tuck in the children, and Lillian turns on a baby monitor and hands me the receiver to take with me. She closes the door and takes a deep, happy breath. “Aren’t they just the sweetest angels?” she asks, giving a pointed look at her son.

  “They’re not bad. You know, for kids,” he says.

  “Rock likes to enjoy the moment,” I tell her.

  Lillian puts her arm around my shoulder. “Oh, don’t I know it, honey.”

  We all meet up in the kitchen. My mother, Rock’s father Bill, Bessie, Cole, and Beatrice are already digging into the hot apple cobbler with vanilla ice cream on top.

  “Hey, pal,” Cole says to Rock. “How was the trip into town? I saw that you flew. You didn’t want to drive? Something wrong with your car?”

  Rock takes a threatening step toward Cole, and I yank him back.

  “I don’t know what that’s about, but stop it now,” Lillian says in a tough, matriarchal tone. “Remember what happened when you two were eight?”

  “It’s a miracle they have all their legs,” Bessie says. “And who knew a boy could do that with a tree?”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” Rocks says, pulling out a chair for me to sit. “That was on fuckface Cole. One hundred percent.”

  “Language, Rock!” Lillian yells. “Children. Oh, they’re asleep. Never mind. It’s okay. Were you really a fuckface, Cole?”

  She spoons some cobbler into a bowl and hands it to me.

  “Rock was the fuckface,” Cole says. “I can’t help it if he believed me when I told him that there were aliens in the tree.”

  “And then he hit me with a bat when I got to the top,” Rock adds.

  Cole shrugs. “Details.”

  “They bicker, but they’re very close,” Lillian tells me. “So, how long are you home for, Rock?”

  “Well, my mother is in the hospital, so I have to stay to take care of her. Oh, wait,” Rock says, furrowing his brow.

  Lillian sticks a spoon of cobbler into her mouth and looks up at the ceiling, averting his gaze.

  Rosalind is sitting at the table, sipping hot water with lemon. No cobbler or ice cream has crossed her lips. “So, tell us about the new billionaire you’ve got lined up, Cole,” she asks him.

  Rock’s spoon slips out of his fingers and lands in his bowl with a loud clang.

  “He’s a good guy,” Cole says. “I’m sure Olivia will fall for him hard. He’s in…” Cole drifts off, taking another bite of cobbler.

  “In what? In what?” Rock demands. “Who is this loser? Olivia isn’t a piece of meat you can just pawn off on one of your loser buddies, you know.”

  “Hear that, Beatrice?” Cole asks. “Olivia isn’t a piece of meat.”

  “Maybe she’s a vegetarian,” Bill says.

  “Bill, that’s not what they’re saying,” Lillian explains.

  “Well, what do I know?” Bill complains. “They’re talking about a girl being meat. I don’t even know what that means. Oh, wait…”

  There’s a moment of awkward silence when I want to curl up under the table with the casserole dish full of cobbler. I’m meat, and I’m being talked about instead of talked to. There’s a whole dynamic happening that has nothing to do with me.

  Ther
e are the parents who want their only son back home and for their family to grow and prosper. There are the newlyweds who are in a cloud of happy hormones, who believe that the rest of the world is just as happy. There’s the mother who just wants to know she doesn’t have to worry anymore. There’s the woman frustrated with where she is in life. There’s the man who has had everything come easily to him, and he’s afraid of the real hard things. And then there’s Bessie.

  And me. I’m here, surrounded by people and feeling very much alone. “I’d love to show you a little of the outside,” Lillian tells me. I jump at her offer for fresh air. She lends me a coat, and we walk outside.

  “I hope you’ll stay a while and enjoy the ranch,” she tells me.

  “Thank you so much for your hospitality. I don’t know how long we’ll stay. It’s up to Rock.”

  “You’re the first woman he’s ever brought home,” she tells me with a smile.

  “I don’t think he really brought me home. I think I was pushed on him.”

  She stops walking and faces me. “Listen, Rock has a perfect name. He’s stubborn and hard. But you don’t know how he looks at you when you don’t see. He watches, waiting to see what you want and need. Your chair, your kids, more ice cream. I’ve never seen that before in my son.”

  “Oh.”

  Lillian points into the darkness. “That’s where I want to have the reception. We better do it quick before the cold comes, but I was assured I can get heated tents. Hate to block the view, though. You’ll see tomorrow in the daylight. This is God’s country.”

  “The reception?”

  “For the wedding.”

  “Uh…”

  The front door opens, and Cole and Rock spill out, locked together in choke holds. They fall onto the ground and roll around, wrestling. There’s a lot of grunting and swearing.

  “Oh my God!” I shout. “They’re going to kill each other!”

  “Nah,” Lillian says swatting the air. “They’re just doing another pissing contest. There might be a black eye or two and a couple broken bones. But nobody’ll die. You want to see the stables?”

  I sleep like the dead. Lillian has given me a large guest room, and she insisted that I sleep with the window open, and the fresh, mountain air knocks me out all night long. My daughter wakes me up at dawn, hearing her ask for me through the baby monitor. I pad through the house in my socks and greet my kids. They’re delighted to find themselves in a new, awe-inspiring place, filled with adoring dogs. I clean them up and get them dressed, and then we walk into the kitchen for breakfast.

  The dogs follow us to the kitchen, where I’m surprised to find Bill manning the stove. The dogs ask him to be fed and let out. “Oh good!” Bill exclaims with glee when he sees us. “Just in time for flapjacks and toys!”

  He skips out and returns a minute later with a bag full of toys, which he hands out.

  “This is the problem with having an only child.” I turn around to see Rock. He’s wearing sweats and a t-shirt, and he has a case of bed head, which makes me want to run my fingers through it. “They’ve got baby withdrawal syndrome. They’ll do anything to make sure I breed.”

  We lock eyes, and I’m surprised to see his face turn lightly pink. He’s blushing at me.

  “I told my mother that I have to get back to L.A. today, but she cried and mentioned the hospital. So, now I’m back in Idaho for a full week. At least your children seem to enjoy it.”

  They’re on the floor around Bill’s feet, playing with their new toys while Bill finishes making breakfast. They’ve never had it so good. I’d love to stay forever.

  “They’re in heaven,” I say. Rock gives me a light kiss on the lips, and he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “You have the most beautiful red hair.”

  “Are you two going to smooch all day, or are you going to eat some breakfast?” Bill asks.

  I step away from Rock. “I’m so sorry, Bill. Here, let me help you.”

  I make the coffee while Bill makes the flapjacks. Rock gives my kids a wide berth and sets the table. Lillian walks in, looking glamorous in her long gray hair and scarf around her neck. She gives kisses to Rock and the kids and a big hug to me.

  “I love having family at home,” she gushes. “Olivia, I saved a little cobbler for you for breakfast. It goes great with coffee.”

  My mother walks in, in her housedress and slippers. “I had the best night’s sleep I’ve had in twenty years,” she exclaims. “Lillian, you live in paradise.”

  “I know,” Lillian says. “I wouldn’t live anywhere else, and I think anyone’s crazy to.” She tosses a pointed look at Rock. “What’s everyone doing today? I’m going to do a little gardening, and then there’s a Judge Judy marathon on TV. I’m going to pop some popcorn for that.”

  My mother freezes in her seat. “You watch Judge Judy?” she asks Lillian.

  Bill laughs. “Are you kidding? Lillian doesn’t miss a day of it. Have you seen her Judge Judy tape collection?”

  “You have a Judge Judy tape collection?” my mother asks Lillian, clearly impressed.

  Lillian nods, proudly. “Even the episodes before she syndicated.”

  “My mother’s never leaving,” I whisper to Rock. “It’ll take a crowbar and a power outage to get her out of here.”

  We eat a large breakfast. Afterwards, Lillian pushes Rock and me out the door with the children. The dogs come running and shower the kids with sloppy kisses.

  “Show them the ranch,” Lillian orders Rock. “It’s a beautiful day. Maybe go out to your place. Show them that.”

  “Why would I show them my house?” Rock asks.

  Lillian purses her lips. “There might be a gas leak.”

  “You want me to show them my house because there might be a gas leak? Wait a minute. There’s a gas leak at my house? Why didn’t you tell me before?” He takes his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call Harry to go fix it.”

  “No!” Lillian shouts. “I don’t mean a gas leak. I mean a water leak. That’s what I heard, anyway. It might be totally fine. But you should check it out. You haven’t been over there in months.”

  “They don’t want to see the house. They’re kids. They like to play with Legos and stuffed animals.”

  “Bring the dogs. They’ll love the dogs,” Lillian adds.

  I notice that Rock does what his mother tells him, from staying in Idaho for a week to loading up an SUV with car seats, kids, and dogs. We drive away from the house onto a dirt road that seems to go on forever into the wilderness.

  Lillian’s right. It’s God’s country. It’s not my first trip to Idaho. I came here to help Beatrice find her forever billionaire love, but Rock’s family’s land has been allowed to stay wilder than Cole’s land. I catch myself pretending that I’m a pioneer, heading out west to look for a homestead.

  “Over there is where I kissed a girl for the first time,” Rock says. “Under that big tree. She was seven, and I was five. Her father walloped me for that.”

  “I can’t imagine that your mother liked a man walloping you,” I say.

  “She almost killed the guy. It took my father, our foreman, and two ranch hands to get her off him.”

  I laugh. “You love that your mother did that. You’re beaming at the memory.”

  “I like my mom. She’s a real ballbuster. My father can rope a steer in a full gallop and once survived alone in a blizzard for four days and nights, but he’s jelly compared to my mother. She once took on a rabid coyote when it got too close to her dog. Here we are.”

  He points ahead to a beautiful, two-story wooden house. “No way,” I say. “You built that?”

  “Yep. By myself. Impressed? Does that mean I get to see you naked again?”

  “Maybe later. I don’t want to scar my children.”

  Rock looks in the rearview mirror at the kids in the backseats. “Oh, shit. I forgot they were back there.”

  He parks in front of the house, and we step out. The dogs fly out of the car, an
d the kids attack them with glee. If I had known dogs were such good babysitters, I would have gotten a bunch of them a long time ago.

  “I can’t believe you built this yourself,” I say, looking up at the house. “Even the chimney?”

  “Even the chimney.”

  “The roof? The roof is high up there. You could have fallen and killed yourself.”

  “I live dangerously. I cut the tags off pillows, too.”

  “Yeah, right,” I say. “You get your millions of employees to do that for you.”

  Rock puts his arm around my waist. “You caught me. I delegate all pillow tag removal. But I did build this house by myself. It was in a different life, but it was still me. Do you like stained glass? The master bedroom has a wall of stained-glass windows.”

  “I love stained glass.”

  Rock is looking at me like I’m a triple-decker cheeseburger, and he hasn’t eaten for a week. “If I kiss you, will the kids be traumatized for life?”

  Mick is riding on a dog. Keith is digging in the ground with a stick. Ronnie is eating dirt, and Bianca is yanking on a dog’s tail.

  “Kiss me quick while they’re distracted,” I urge him.

  “With tongue?”

  “Yes, but hurry. We’ve got thirty seconds before Ronnie sticks the dirt up his nose.”

  “Which one’s Ronnie? What am I saying? Never mind. I can do a lot with thirty seconds.”

  He grabs me and pulls me toward him, smashing my body up against his. He might as well be wearing a Spanish, barrel chest suit of armor because he’s conquistadoring my mouth with a ferocious need. He’s clutching my arms while his mouth is staking its claim, tongue and all.

  My head is spinning. My skin is tingling. I don’t know how much more kiss I can take before I melt into the ground. Just as I think I’m going to have a kiss-induced seizure, Rock pulls back and looks at his watch.

  “There,” he says, breathlessly. “Was that thirty seconds?”

  “I don’t know. I think I had a little aneurysm.” Ronnie spits dirt of his mouth and crams it up his nose. “Right on time,” I say, happily.