The Marriage Mistake_A Billionaire Hangover Romance

by Natalie Knight

  What has been normally so rewarding has become a thorn in my side. This track just reminds me of how it could all be gone in a second. Usually, I'm the most focused out here, but not today.

  Just then, my phone buzzes and I hand Neil the timer so I can take the call.

  "Jenna?"

  "Oh, hi, Braden. I was just thinking about you."

  Braden

  "Hi, baby, what's up?

  "Nothing. I'm just at the racetrack, getting some things done."

  Her voice is breathy and full of possibilities. If I'm honest, it makes my cock harden against my pants, even though this is a phone call of deception.

  I know what she's up to. I got the text, and I know she's been pretending to like me this entire time.

  It makes sense; Jenna has never once dated a racer, and now she's so fully into me? I think not.

  I believed it at first, and I even believed she was different, that I could fall for her. But now, knowing what I know, I'm thinking Jenna has betrayed me and that she's working for the FBI.

  "So, have you been there all day?"

  "Yes, same as always. We're trying to come up with the technology to beat you."

  I laugh, "That will never happen, Jenna. You might as well give up right now."

  A part of me wonders if she's plotting how to get my technology to hand over to the authorities.

  I'm still attracted to Jenna, and I don't want to believe that she would do anything behind my back, but the reality is staring me in the face. I know for a fact that she's been approached by the feds.

  "Oh, Braden, just you wait. We’re going to figure you out, that's for sure."

  She's joking with me, and yet―is it really a joke? She'll never get her hands on my methods, because I am the sole keeper of those secrets, but all this new information about Jenna is just filtering through my brain.

  She seems so good-natured, so honest. She's always had a good reputation in the racing league, and I think everyone would be surprised to know she's working for the enemy.

  I don't want to believe it.

  "Jenna, you can try to find my superpowers, but you never will."

  "Try I will, Braden. You can count on it."

  Talking to her makes me excited and I still have hopes despite this new information. I guess there are two sides to every story, and I’m hoping her side explains everything. But how in the world will I ever bring it up? I need to play coy with Jenna until I understand the full scope of what she's doing.

  I just got a text. That was it. I can't accuse her of something this serious because of a text alone.

  I have to hide my fears for the moment.

  "What are you doing later?" I ask, hoping she'll go out with me.

  "Um, probably taking a bath and calling it in early."

  "Why don't you come out with me instead? I'll make it worth your while."

  "What did you have in mind?"

  "Skybar?”

  "What bar?"

  "You'll see when we get there."

  "Okay, well, I'd love to see you, so yes."

  Would she really love to see me? Now I'm questioning everything. I want to believe Jenna on all fronts. I want to know that she’s really attracted to me, but these damn rumors have put doubts in my head.

  "What time will you pick me up?" she asks.

  "Around ten."

  "A late dinner then?"

  "You could call it that."

  "See you then."

  She has no idea what I have in mind. Skybar is a unique location in NYC. It's a restaurant and a bar that fringes on the edge of a skyscraper. The balcony is made of pure glass, so when you look down, it feels like you’re falling, even though you’re suspended in mid-air by a sheet of glass.

  It's a rush, and it's sexy, so I know Jenna will love it. She's like me―attracted to anything that gets her blood pumping.

  I'm going to arrange it all perfectly. Tonight, I have to have Jenna, and that means putting the finishing touches on all my plans.

  I'll have the limo ready to pick her up, and I'm going to lift some weights, take a shower, and make sure I'm in top form for her.

  Despite my reservations, I know that I have to make Jenna mine. I’ll fuck her no matter what. Then, after I've had my fill, we can sort out all the details. Besides, fucking her will get me one step closer to understanding if she's for real or not. I'll be able to tell whether or not she's faking her attraction to me.

  I start to head out to get some things done and to get ready for dinner. It's been a long but good day. When you're doing what you love, work doesn't ever seem like a bad thing. Getting my hands dirty around cars and dealing with my new mechanism is blood, sweat, and tears―but it feels so fucking good.

  I'd hate to have a 9-to-5 job. I'd hate to do anything that doesn't involve racing.

  My new car is sitting in the center of the garage on a spinning platform. She's gorgeous, and she’s bound to take my performance to an even higher level.

  If the FBI even knew one shred of what went on behind these closed doors, they'd be set with technology for the future. They've been after me for years; it comes with the territory of hosting an underground racing league.

  Jenna should know that. She should know I'm used to having the cops on my back. Some of them understand the excitement, and some of them operate on some preconceived notion of justice that frankly shouldn't apply to me anyway. I'm a billionaire with technology that could change the face of the nation.

  They should be politely knocking on my door, begging me for favors, not trying to shut my operation down.

  Jenna must get this.

  One of my crew members approaches me.

  "Hi, Bill," I say.

  He's a senior member of the crew and also the one that tipped me off about the feds.

  "What's going on with you, Braden? Why do you have a smirk on your face? Please don't tell me you're gonna go out with Jenna."

  "Is it that obvious?" I smile.

  I can't help it. The idea of being with Jenna exhilarates me. She's a feast for the eyes, and she's fun to be around. What harm could lie in that?

  "You're playing with fire, Braden. You know I think it's a bad idea."

  "Oh, come on Bill. You think everything's a bad idea. Hell, you considered my new afterburner mechanism a bad idea, remember?"

  "Yeah, alright, Braden You got me there. I had to see it to believe it. But trust me on this one: Jenna is bad news. Everything about what she's doing screams disloyalty.

  “People in this league know what they're getting into when they start. The feds are always an issue and if she gives sour secrets to them, this will all be over, and we'll all be in jail."

  "Wow, Bill, you never fail to say it like it is." I tell him.

  There's a reason he's one of my best crewmembers. He's conservative and cautious, and I need that in someone if I'm not gonna be that way.

  "You're playing with fire, Braden. I promise you. And if you're not careful, it's going to end badly for everyone, not just you. Now, I have a family to think about―"

  Damn. I didn't mean to make the old man worry.

  "It's okay, Bill.” I say before he goes any further. “I have it under control. I'm just trying to get close to her so I can see more accurately what she's up to. I'm going to get to the bottom of this. You can trust me. Have I ever failed you?"

  He looks at me skeptically. This is why I love Bill. He's a straight-shooter and always tells it like it is.

  "Don't worry. I promise I’ll be careful. Besides, I'm going to figure out her game before she can pull one over me."

  "Alright, Braden. I just had to say what's on my mind."

  "I'm glad you did, Bill. I'll see you tomorrow."

  I leave, and I hate knowing that I've worried him. He's gotta know that I will always do everything I can to protect him and our crew from destruction. The problem is I'm just so wrapped up in Jenna that it's hard to see what side she's really on.

  I like to think th
at, from watching her over the past few years and being with her now, that I know her...at least even a little bit.

  And she seems loyal to a fault. She doesn’t seem like somebody who would ever hurt another person.

  I don't know. I may be wrong. But I have to give her a chance so I can find out. I'd kick myself forever if I didn't at least try to see where Jenna's coming from.

  I hope though, in the back of my mind, that I'm not making a mistake. I hope to God she has an explanation and that she proves us all wrong.

  For now, I have to get home and get ready to see her. That's foremost on my mind.

  Jenna

  I'm naked and alone in my apartment, examining my body in the full-length mirror.

  I look into my own eyes and search for signs of deception. Am I the kind of person who can do this?

  Should I betray Braden? Betray my team? Or do nothing and let us all go down in flames?

  The questions torments my mind and prevent me from getting ready for my date. I really do want Braden. But now our relationship is confusing and on another level.

  How did things get so complicated? We just started seeing each other, and now there's this conflict of interest preventing our potential happiness.

  I spent years wanting Braden, waiting for him to notice me, and now on the brink of what is possibly the best relationship of my life, this happens. Stupid FBI, I curse them in my head.

  I run my hands over my body and try again to think if I'm the kind of person who can do this. Can I betray the very racing league that has given me a purpose in this life? Can I betray my family? My home?

  I don't know what the fuck to do, and this makes me sulk.

  I smear on some lipstick and coat my lashes in mascara. I let my black hair flow freely over my shoulders, curly and untamed, much like my personality. Then I pick through my closet, searching for the perfect frock to make this evening special.

  I want to impress him. I want him to think of my body and of getting me naked.

  This in itself should tell me my answer. I want Braden and I want him to be happy...with me, and that means not betraying him to the FBI.

  I sigh. If these issues plague me all night long, I won't be able to concentrate on what is sure to be a very sexy date.

  I choose to believe that nothing can be decided tonight. I'm not going to spend my precious time with Braden worrying about the feds. I'm just not.

  I pull a very sexy little silver sheath that will accent my black hair perfectly. Of course, I don't wear underwear. I don't want a panty line. Wink.

  I slide in my favorite heels, a black Tom Fords.

  And then I’m out the door.

  The limo's waiting downstairs, and I feel a flutter in my stomach as I think about him being in there. I thank the doorman who's holding it open for me.

  "Good evening, Jenna," he says, eyes running all over me, admiring my…outfit.

  "Thank you, Henry."

  A breeze blows across my flushed face. I probably should've brought a shawl. The evening's cool and feels good on my skin.

  He's probably staring at me through the tinted windows of the limousine. I freeze and am charged with an energy unlike anything else. This happens every time there's even a chance I'll see him or whenever I'm near him.

  Butterflies are an understatement. It feels more like a mini tornado is ravaging my heart. It pounds so hard that it's all I can hear.

  I find my bravery and stride over to the car, and he opens the door from the inside.

  "Hi," he smiles.

  "Hi," I'm somehow able to speak, despite the thunder and lightning going off in my body.

  I slide into the limo, careful not to flash anyone. The cool black leather does nothing to chill my heated skin.

  He puts his hand on my thigh and it feels good, it feels right, but my heart is still beating hard and fast.

  "Are you okay?" he asks quizzically.

  "Of course," I manage to say.

  He stares at me like he knows what's going off inside of me. He knows that I have this reaction to him, and he seems to relish the idea.

  He strokes my thigh and stares out the window. I look at his hair, his strong jaw, his muscles that are perfectly silhouetted by his expensive suit. It all makes me wet, and I'm acutely aware that not wearing underwear may not have been the best idea. I didn't quite anticipate the wetness that would spread between my thighs.

  "Is there a drink?" I ask him, trying to dispel the tension.

  Really, I need ice. Nice, cool, ice.

  I move to the little-stocked bar and fill a cup with ice...and bourbon. I need both.

  I drink the strong liquid, and it only spreads more warmth throughout my body.

  I make another.

  He stares at me in a tantalizing way, like he knows exactly why I feel the need to drink.

  "Want one?" I ask.

  "I'm okay," he smirks. "Just wait until you see where we're going. You may not want to be so tipsy then."

  "Am I tipsy?"

  "You will be, after two shots of whiskey, taken back to back. You sure you're okay?"

  Yeah, like I'm going to reveal to him why the rush for the ice and drink. I need to distract myself, to calm my body of the pure nervousness that come from being around him.

  "I'm fine. I just had a long day."

  "Hmm, learn anything new?"

  "Mr. Masterson. Are you searching me for clues as to our latest technology?" I say this as I open the sunroof, anxious for more air.

  "I don't need your technology. I think it's the other way around. You need mine."

  For a sec, I'm reminded of my ominous mission. The faces of those FBI agents flash through my mind. I become slightly paranoid and wonder if he knows that they talked to me.

  I wish I could just tell him all about it and get the truth out on the table. If I could just reveal to him what happened, how they pressured me, maybe he could fix it. But instead, I deflect.

  "You know, I'm sick of talking about work. Besides, I know what I'm doing, and my crew and I don't need to be threatened by you. You have nothing on us."

  "Is that so?" His eyes light up.

  "Where are we going?"

  "You'll see. You'll love it."

  The bourbon kicks in and I'm good to go. I want this night to happen. I'm on a date with Braden, and it's a dream come true.

  "We’re going somewhere special. And I know you'll love it."

  "How many women have you taken there?"

  He evades my question. "Tonight I'm thinking only of you."

  I sit next to him, and we kiss, and it's nice, but my question has not been answered. Is this a haunt he goes to a lot? Are there other women in his life now besides me?

  I'd like to think I can trust him.

  Then I think of what the FBI wants me to do and wonder how can I expect to trust Braden if he can't trust me?

  Damn those agents. It's ruining the evening and ruining my affection for Braden because every time I look at him I feel worried that I might have to hurt him.

  Thankfully, we soon arrive at wherever it is he has planned for us. I follow him out of the limo, and everyone on the street stops and looks at us.

  We look like a fairytale. Him in his deluxe suit, me in my tiny dress. I would stare at us, too. I can't believe I have the luck of being with my dream man, at last.

  He takes me into a very tall building, and I look up and shudder to think of how high it is. I wonder if he'll have us going to another penthouse. Maybe a friend of his?

  We're in the elevator, and there are mirrors. I see him reflected back to me, and it's very sexy.

  "I want you," he breathes down my neck, assaulting me with his words.

  I clench my legs together and try to maintain some sense of composure.

  "Braden, not here," I warn him.

  This man tries to take me in the most unexpected places.

  His hand finds its way up from the back of my thigh to my ass where he squeezes one cheek and gives m
e a biting look. It's torment, this heat, and it's just the beginning of what's to come.

  The doors open, and we walk into a room that nearly takes my breath away.

  There's a bar made of all glass and ice. There's some tables and the restaurant portion, but right before us, looking straight out is a balcony...a balcony made of all glass.

  "What the..."

  "I know," he says. "Isn't it spectacular?"

  He leads me straight through the room to the dangerous balcony. I tentatively step onto it, gripping his arm all the while.

  When I look down, it feels staggering, as though I'm flying and falling at the same time, suspended in air in an unnatural way.

  I bravely walk to the edge and dare to look down. He holds me. I need him to.

  "My God, Braden, this is too much."

  His hand holds the small of my back, and together we look out over the expanse of the city. It's a moment to treasure. But every time I look down, I feel nauseous and dizzy.

  "Had enough?" he asks.

  "Yes, for now."

  "Why don't we go to our dinner?"

  He has the VIP room all set up for us. It too has a stunning overlook of the city. Everything's airy and open up here. One side of the place has no wall, just a sheer drop down. The balcony made of glass is all that prevents the fall.

  It's a rush being here with Braden. Him and heights, two of my favorite things.

  We dine. He orders for me.

  I sip my wine and enjoy this time with him. All the while, wind that accessible only from this height is gently blowing over us.

  "So Braden, is this what you do when you're not at the track? Seduce woman at dizzying heights?"

  "You're teasing me," he says with a darkened glance.

  I'm testing him, trying to find out if there's anyone else.

  "So, what do you do when you're not making new technology?" he asks.

  "Me? Well, let's see. I do yoga, run, visit art museums, the usual stuff in the city."

  "Do you ever go out, clubbing or whatnot?"

  "Sometimes. I have a select group of friends that I go with, occasionally."

  I look at him seductively over my wine glass.

  "I imagine it's very different for you, Braden. I’m content with a quiet life. Racing fills my days, but my nights are spent calmly. You must have a new woman on your arm every night. I assume you go...clubbing a lot."