Two Billionaires in Vegas
A Halloween MFM Romance (Love by Numbers Book 1)
Nicole Casey
Copyright © 2019 by Nicole Casey. All Rights Reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronically, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the proper written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.
Contents
1. Erin
2. Jackson
3. Erin
4. Caleb
5. Erin
6. Jackson
7. Erin
8. Caleb
9. Erin
10. Jackson
11. Erin
12. Jackson
13. Erin
14. Caleb
15. Erin
16. Caleb
17. Erin
Epilogue
Coming Soon: Three Bosses’ Assistant
1. Sascha
2. Ian
3. Sascha
Author’s Note
Also By Nicole Casey
About the Author
Erin
My shoulders slumped as I hung back, watching my friend Greer walk up to the front desk of the hotel and ring the bell. She looked back at me with a cheery smile while we waited and I did my best to return it. I just hoped she didn’t notice how fake my smile was.
I so did not want to be there, but none of that was Greer’s fault. She was getting married. She had every right to be happy. As one of her best friends, I was supposed to be happy too, happy for her that she met such a great guy she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
And I was happy. Mostly, anyway.
No, the fact that I struggled to be in a good mood was my own issue. Like my best friend Sascha said, I needed to just put my own shit on hold for the next week and a half and celebrate Greer and John.
Besides, Sascha had her own stuff going on and she’d managed to temporarily compartmentalize with ease. Outwardly, at least. I knew she was hurting, but she could put on a brave face for the people she loved. Still, Sascha wasn’t a bridesmaid and didn’t have to be here for the entire week and a half either.
“You know she’d do the same for you if the roles were reversed,” Sascha told me earlier in the day when I called her. I could just picture her sitting there with that apprehensive expression on her face, brows scrunched and mouth set in a line. She always got this when she was worried about something and I’d born witness to it more times than I could count. Thankfully, it wasn’t usually directed at me.
Sascha had known me forever and always knew exactly what to say to me. Usually her words didn’t exactly make me feel better, but they were often what I needed to hear.
“That’s very true,” I replied, “but a Halloween wedding? Why on earth do Greer and John want to have a Halloween wedding?”
“You got me there, Erin,” Sascha said. “I know it’s Greer’s favorite holiday, but it does seem a bit silly.”
It had been Sascha’s chuckles from my complaining that finally put me at ease. Yes, I was hurting, but I hadn’t lost my ability to make my best friend laugh. That meant I’d be okay. Eventually.
It was a calming thought.
Greer looked so happy when she began walking back towards me. Actually, she was radiant, her smile so wide, her eyes bright and full of hope. I felt a little guilty for my dark thoughts, but a therapist once said, “We feel what we feel,” and that seemed right. I couldn’t help how I felt, but I didn’t have to be a drag on Greer. No way was I going to spoil her time.
“We’re all checking in!” she said. Her dark blue eyes were filled with such happiness that I was suddenly glad I’d sucked up my sour mood and forced myself to come. Greer really did deserve it.
Greer and I first met in college in one of our classes during Freshman year. She sat down next to me and immediately began chatting like we were old friends. I remember sitting there in that 8 a.m. class, nursing a large coffee, a little hungover from the night before, and feeling sideswiped by this woman who sat down next to me.
Pixie was my first thought of her, and it wasn’t just because she had her dark hair styled in an adorable pixie cut. No, it was her entire demeanor. Sure she fitted the description of a pixie--a small build, pale skin, an undeniable effervescence about her--but it was so much more than that. It was her personality, her bubbly demeanor. I was a little jaded, cynical, but it didn’t take long for Greer to break through my walls and befriend me. Eight years later, we’re still great friends and I value that relationship, Greer’s presence in my life.
“All checked in!” Greer said. She handed me my keycard and I slipped it in my pocket.
My smile began as fake, but quickly became real at witnessing Greer’s joy. “Awesome,” I replied, “thank you!”
“Of course,” she said, slinging her arm around me as we walked out to the car to grab our things.
Our rooms were on different floors, so before we went our separate ways, Greer wrapped me in a hug, squeezing me tight. “I really appreciate this, Erin,” she said. “So much.”
I knew Greer meant every word of it too. No one was more sincere than Greer.
We reached her floor and she grabbed her things and get off. “Don’t forget about tonight!” she said merrily.
“I won’t!” I replied before the elevator doors closed behind Greer, though I was already dreading it.
It was easy to slip back into my dour mood once I was out of Greer’s presence. My resolve to be there for her was still strong, but that didn’t really help my moodiness while I was alone.
I unlocked my hotel room and slipped inside, looking around. My temporary home away from home was adorable, decorated in creams and medium blues. In the past, I’ve stayed in hotel rooms that were decked out in ugly patterns, but this was tasteful, almost gentle and calming rather than cringeworthy.
My eyes lit up when I spotted the mini-bar on the other side of the room. I quickly dumped my suitcase and bag on the floor, slipped my sandals off, and made my way over. Tequila, rum, whiskey, and more: there was an array of small alcohol bottles. I selected the small bottle of vodka and screwed off the top.
Taking a swig, the vodka was surprisingly good, especially compared to all that cheap vodka I drank in college. Still, it made me make a face with each sip. I didn’t mind. The bitter liquid matched my mood.
I sipped the small vodka bottle until it was gone, poking around the room like I liked to do when I stayed at a new hotel. It didn’t take long to finish the bottle. It was just enough to take the edge off a little, but not enough to actually make me drunk. That was for later at Greer and John’s party.
Maybe I was still feeling cranky, but it was better to be out of my place where I’d first caught my ex, the source of my bad mood, fucking another woman on my bed. It was hard to escape the ghost of his presence there.
Lying down on the bed, I set an alarm on my phone and closed my eyes. I really was exhausted and a nap would help me get through the party later.
* * *
The worst sound in the world, the shriek of an alarm signifying it was time to wake, broke through
my thankfully dreamless sleep. Looking at the time, I had about an hour and a half to get ready.
Snatching my toiletry bag, I trudged off to the bathroom. I stared at my reflection for a long moment. In the past, I’ve been told I’m pretty. Between my tall figure, toned figure from karate and cycling, I supposed it was true. Despite all the exercise, I hadn’t lost that little bit of curve in my hips or modest breasts I’d suddenly sprouted at ten. I was tan from all the time I spent in the sun and had naturally pale blonde hair and dark green eyes, a killer combo Sascha told me more than once.
Still, I didn’t feel very pretty right now after what Braxton did. It was a huge hit to my self-confidence, and more than once, I’d wondered what I’d done wrong, what was wrong with me for Braxton to do what he did.
Sure we’d hit a bit of a rough patch in our relationship, but he’d never once given me any indication he was a cheater. And he wouldn’t give me a straight answer whether it was the first time he’d messed around or not, or even if she was the first woman he messed around with.
He’d shown his true colors when he tried to turn it around on me, blaming me for putting my law career before our relationship.
I knew what he’d done wasn’t my fault, I didn’t make him cheat, but that didn’t help that voice in the back of my head telling me I could have done more, done something different. That I could have prevented it in the first place.
It was the inspiration for my strike from men for the next year. No dating, no hookups, no flirting, or flings. I was taking a break. Even Sascha, ever the romantic, thought it was a good idea as I’d moved from one relationship to another since high school. I once thought having a boyfriend helped make me complete, but I’d come to realize that wasn’t the case at all. I was complete on my own. Whole.
This vow to temporarily forget about guys was my way of proving to myself I could be just fine without a guy trying to define me. Weirdly, I was actually a little excited about it. Sure, I’d miss sex and even the companionship a boyfriend could provide, but I knew I didn’t need it to thrive in this next chapter of my life.
After dolling myself up, I met Greer in the lobby to share a car to John’s hotel. By that time, Greer’s other bridesmaid, Hanna, had checked into the hotel and joined us.
If I had to choose, I’d say Hanna was my closest friend after Sascha. I met her in college too, introduced by Greer who’d been her Freshman year roommate. Hanna was a gorgeous African American woman who liked to wear her curly hair natural. Despite her spunky nature, her eyes were big and dark brown and always seemed to be deep in thought about something. Though I was taller than average for a woman, standing next to Hanna always made me feel gigantic from her five feet, one-inch stature. Eight inches taller than her, I supposed I probably was gigantic in her eyes.
Hanna studied criminal justice and law like me and after that, we’d shared several classes together, bonding over legal research and methods and, eventually, grad school and studying for the bar exam. She’d studied corporate law like I did. The funny thing was that we’d each gotten hired by the law firm the other really wanted to work out. Despite not getting our first choice, we both ended up extremely happy with our jobs.
Sometimes it’s funny the way the world works.
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you two!” Hanna said squealed, rushing forth to hug me and Greer.
“I’ve put in so many hours at work lately I hardly have time to sleep,” I joked, smiling at her.
She laughed. “I hear that! I can’t remember the last time I did anything for myself. Greer, I just want to thank you for getting married so I had an excuse to take some time off.”
Grinning, Greer replied, “Anytime.”
The three of us walked outside into the heat and piled into Greer’s car. Though it was nearly six o’clock and it wasn’t nearly as warm as earlier, it was still warm enough that I was nervous my makeup would sweat off my face. It wouldn’t be the first time.
It didn’t take long for us to drive to the restaurant John and Greer’s party was to take place. They’d rented out a party room to fit us all and had it catered by the restaurant.
We parked and walked inside. Dread filled me as the hostess lead us back to the party. Yes, I wasn’t exactly keen on being surrounded by so many people, particularly all the couples, but I really wasn’t looking forward to Greer trying to set me up. I just knew she was going to.
I probably should have told her about my vow to stay away from men for the next year, though I wasn’t entirely sure she’d listen. Ever since John popped the question, she’d been trying to set all her friends up with the potential love of their lives, determined we would experience the same happiness she had.
We took our places around the table and Greer and John introduced everyone to each other. A friend of John’s stared at me longer than what was considered appropriate and I just knew he was one of the guys Greer told about me. Looking down, I cringed into my glass of wine and took a large gulp.
After a delicious dinner of smoked chicken, braised haricot verts, and a side salad made of arugula and shaved parmesan, we all got up from the table to mingle and get to know each other. I chatted with one of John’s sisters for a while before the guy who’d stared at me earlier came.
I held back my grimace, knowing it wasn’t his fault Greer likely put him up to it.
“I’m Chad,” he said.
Patiently, I told Chad that, while I was flattered, I wasn’t looking for a relationship. He seemed to be a little bummed, but thanked me for being honest with him.
Not five minutes after Chad walked away, another guy, one I hadn’t noticed earlier, walked up to me and asked what I was doing later. He was harder to shake off.
When a third guy began walking toward me, I excused myself from my conversation and practically ran to the bathroom. For the second time that day, I stared at my reflection. It was a little flattering that men still found me attractive but I wasn’t in the mood for it.
I buried my face in my hands and sighed. It was going to be a long night.
Jackson
I was breathing hard by the time I slowed my jog into a walk in front of my condo. Pulling the keys from the small pouch I wore on my bicep, I unlocked the door and stepped inside and went straight for the kitchen.
Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I walked into the living room and nearly had a heart attack. Sitting in the dark was my best friend and business partner, Caleb.
“Jesus, man,” I said, grabbing my heart with my free hand. Adrenaline shot through me, making my heart beat quickly in my chest.
I flipped on the lights and saw he had a small smile on his face. It was the biggest smile I’d seen on his face in ages.
“Sorry, Jack,” he said. He raised a glass to his lips and swallowed. I raised my eyebrows at him. “I like scotch,” he said, shrugging.
I glanced at the clock large decorative analog clock on the wall. “Dude, it’s only three o’clock,” I drawled.
He shrugged again and, in a dry voice, said, “It’s six o’clock somewhere.”
I rolled my eyes and unscrewed the lid of my water bottle and took a drink. I hoped the delay would give me a chance to think of something to say to him, something useful, but drew a frustrating blank.
More days than not lately, something with Caleb had been off. Sure, he still looked sharp in his expensive suits and still kept his dark blond hair as carefully groomed, but I knew better. I knew him, and could easily see something wasn’t right. I was one of the few people in the whole world that Caleb actually let in enough to see who he really was. Maybe even the only person.
The two of us met in the marines more than ten years ago. Initially, we hated each other’s guts. I thought he was pompous jackass who believed he was superior to everyone around him. I didn’t discover until later that was how he protected himself from getting hurt.
It wasn’t until our squad was on a hike and I’d sprained my ankle so badly I couldn’t wa
lk on it that we became friends. He’d been ahead of me and turned around to help me limp to the finish line. Caleb could have finished the exercise with the best score, but he didn’t believe in leaving anyone behind, even someone he disliked during a training exercise.
We didn’t become close overnight, but we did gain mutual respect for each other. He realized how much I appreciated his help and how hard it was for me to accept after growing up the runt of five boys. Over time, he became my best friend and knew me better than anyone. I moved from Texas to Las Vegas for him when our service ended and even opened a business with him because he believed in it so much.
And now, I knew Caleb was suffering. We’d seen a lot of bad shit overseas, nightmare-inducing shit, Caleb never quite learned to deal with it the way I did. He dwelled on it all, while I developed a live and let live kind of attitude. First hand, I saw how short life was and I wanted to live it to the fullest while I still could.
Caleb’s diagnosis with PTSD wasn’t a surprise to me, though after living in denial for so long, I think the diagnosis surprised him.
We sat in silence for some time during which I saw his depression settle back onto him like a heavy snowfall. He sat slumped back on the couch with his eyes downcast and brow furrowed, staring down into his drink like it was a cure.
This wasn’t the first time I’d found him in my house like that. It’d been happening more and more. Caleb always attempted to cover it up with a smile and a joke, though I’m pretty sure he knew I could see through it. I tried to tell myself that meant he wasn’t too far gone, not if he still cared what I thought about him.
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