by Lory Wendy
“I swear it never went that far.”
“I believe you,” she assures me. “Anyway, I’m over that now. You’re a cool chick, and Julian likes you, so you can’t be that bad.”
“What about the chicks before me, did you like them?”
Her grin is shit-eating and a little condescending, but her voice remains sweet and breezy. “You don’t have to fish with me. This is girl time. Ask me whatever you want to ask me.”
“Tell me about Julian’s exes,” I say, the demand coming out rushed and eager like I’d been obsessed with it. And I haven’t. Not really. Nope.
“You’re the only recent girl of his I’ve met.”
“Seriously?” I find that hard to believe.
“I didn’t say you’re the only one he’s been with, but you are the only one he’s bothered bringing around everyone in years.”
“What about his ex-wife? Did you ever meet her?”
“She was a bitch, but she’s dead anyway though, so it’s not like you have to worry about her coming back and messing things up for you.”
I gape at her revelation. She’s dead?
Chantel grimaces. “I know they say you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but there’s some bad blood there. So, I’m not sad she’s dead.”
“No, I mean, yeah, you really shouldn’t speak badly about dead people, that’s asking for bad karma, but...” I struggle with what to say and how to explain how I feel without sounding just as heartless as she does. Julian told me they’d divorced. Dating someone with an ex-wife is one thing, but dating someone with a dead wife is another. Why would he lie about that? I’m both confused and disappointed by the lie while absolutely devastated for Julian about the truth. “I didn’t know she’d died,” I admit.
“Oh, it was super recent.” She practically skips to a rack of clothes, picking up a dress and laying it over her own clothes. “What do you think?”
“It’s pretty,” I say flatly because I’m not really paying attention to her or any dresses right now. “When did she die?”
“Do you have this in a small?” she asks someone over my shoulder. Back to me, the happiness in her voice doesn’t subside as she continues, “You know when the guys went to California? They went to her funeral. Whatever happened while they were there woke Pierce the hell up, so we’re working things out now.”
Her nonchalance is almost unsettling. I feel like I just got punched in the gut. Too many emotions swirling around in my head right now. This must be what people mean when they say curiosity killed the cat, because I shouldn’t have pried in the first damn place. Unable to handle anymore sad talk, or reminders of how little I know about Julian’s everyday life, I change the flow of the conversation to allow her to gush some more about Pierce.
When it comes to just us shopping and hanging out, Chantel turns out to be a really cool chick. I guess her realizing I don’t want her man means she doesn’t have any more reason to hate me.
Chantel doesn’t get out of the car when we pull back up to the house, and I open my mouth to ask her what’s wrong but remember Julian had said she and Pierce weren’t staying with us. It seems a bit of a waste for only the two of us to stay in such a big house, but I won’t argue. It’s beautiful and, for the next few days, all mine and Julian’s.
“How was your day?” he asks when I get inside. His voice is friendly, but something is off in his voice.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just didn’t expect you guys to be gone so long. I called you...” He trails off and clears his throat.
“Aww... Did you miss me?”
“Yes,” he says bluntly.
Had it not been for what Chantel just told me, I’m not sure if the easy confession would have affected me the same way, but it causes a small lump in my throat. In hurried steps, I’m at his side, folding myself into his arms. I hug him hard, offering up comfort for a tragedy I’m not supposed to know anything about while wondering how much of what he told me about his ex-wife is true. Most importantly, I wonder, again, where we stand and if I can compete with a ghost for his heart.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Oh, let’s take a picture!” Chantel pulls Pierce toward a short line forming by a statue of a jockey and his horse.
“Why does she have so much energy?” I grumble, righting the wide brim of my hat.
“You okay?” Julian asks, handing me a bottle of water.
I nod, lying. I’m not hungover per se, but I had way too many drinks at the fancy party, nay gala, we went to last night. While Julian did a lot of schmoozing and ass kissing, Chantel and I ate and drank our weight around the bar—a decision I’m regretting today, knowing we’ll be spending half the day outside in the sun. I chug down some of the water, instantly feeling better.
“Keep drinking,” Julian orders. “So you don’t get dehydrated.”
I scoff. “Yes, Dad.”
His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t say anything else. I’m already testing his nerves.
“Are we betting?” Chantel skips up to us, pointing to a nearby booth.
Julian cuts his eyes to her then back to me and shakes his head slowly.
“Why not?” I protest. Granted, I didn’t even think about betting until Chantel brought it up, but that’s half the fun, right? Somewhere between her question and his not so subtle look for her to shut up, I decide to be difficult. “The pamphlet says it’s only a two buck minimum. I don’t think that’ll break us. Come on, Chantel.” I gesture for her to walk with me. The look in her eyes tells me she doesn’t want to but bless her heart, she catches up to me anyway.
“What are you doing?” she hisses.
“Girl, I don’t know. He’s acting funny, and I’m—”
“Trying to goad him into a reaction and dragging me along with you?”
I nod. “Pretty much.”
“Where are we going?”
“I have no idea.” I cringe. There are a few lines formed of people coming in, but it's not like I have a clue where to go. I step up to a guy in what looks like a uniform. “Sir, where can we—”
“That’s enough,” Julian’s deep voice hisses in my ear as his arms wrap low on my waist. I gulp and both Chantel and I look at each other wide-eyed and grimacing like two kids who just got caught sneaking cookies.
“I thought we’d put the tough-girl shit to bed, but I guess not.” He turns me to look at him. I avoid his gaze and, next to me, notice Pierce giving Chantel an equally hard look—though his has an air of “you should know better” in it.
“What? She needed the bathroom,” Chantel protests to Pierce.
Julian grabs my chin, giving me no other choice than to look into his eyes. “Please, don’t start,” he says, his voice not as harsh as it was a minute ago. “Just chill, okay?”
I fix the brim of my hat and nod, letting him take my hand in his. We walk past the crowd and the lines, and when Julian pulls out four passes, a girl is immediately at our sides, telling us where to go, handing out small bags, and asking if we need anything.
As we stand and wait to go in, I rummage through the bag. “What's this for?” I ask Chantel when I get to a set of binoculars.
“It’s so we can watch from Millionaire’s Row.” She points toward one of the higher balconies.
I grin, more than relieved we’ll be in the shade. This hat, while larger than a regular baseball cap, is barely doing shit to keep the glare of the sun out of my eyes.
“I should have brought sunglasses,” I say out loud to Julian. He barely acknowledges me, clearly still pissed about earlier. Whatever. He’ll get over it.
Part of Millionaire’s Row, as it turns out, looks like a fancy banquet hall. There are stations upon stations of food and a few bars I plan to stay away from.
“If you still want to put in a wager, do it here.” He walks me over to a booth with a sign: Wagering Station. “Up here, I have an account. Outside, you can’t really be sure how legit some of those guys are.”
; “Sorry.” I feel a little stupid for my scene now.
“Don’t worry about it. Go ahead,” he urges me forward.
“Hello,” the older man greets me with a smile and flirty glint in his eyes. “How can I help you today?”
“I’d like to place a bet please.”
“Okay, name on the account?”
“Umm…” I look over my shoulder. Julian’s close by looking on with what I can only describe as an amused grin. “His.”
The teller nods. “Caine, got it. And how much?”
I have no idea. “Fifty?”
“Fifty thousand?”
“No!” I gasp. Jesus fucking Christ.
“Put her down for five thousand on Nyquist to show.” Julian decides to have mercy on me.
I squeeze the shit out of his hand. Five thousand dollars? I am just about to open my mouth to object when I overhear a guy nearby bidding one hundred thousand on another horse to win.
“What’s the difference?” I ask Julian when we’re away from the booth, adding, “He’s completely insane by the way,” referring to the one-hundred-thousand-dollar guy.
“You have a better chance if you choose a horse to show,” Julian explains. “It just means your horse has to finish in the top three. And that guy is a CEO of a billion-dollar company. That wager isn’t going to hurt his pockets.”
“I can’t imagine having that much money.”
Julian shrugs.
“You don’t have to stay with me if you don’t want,” I offer him an out when I see him fidgeting.
He narrows his eyes.
“I’ll behave.” I gesture a large X over my chest. It earns me a chuckle, but he still doesn’t leave my side until we circle back around to Chantel stuffing her face at a nearby table.
“I’ll be right back.” He kisses my shoulder.
I push him, laughing. “Go!”
“These are the best part of this whole weekend.” Chantel stuffs what looks like a puff pastry in her mouth. “You’re not eating? I’m hitting that station next. I love their dessert.”
“How many times have you been here?” She seems at ease and familiar with everything while I’m kind of floundering around.
“Oh, we’ve come for a few years, but this is only the second time we’ve been up here. The first year we came, it was such a shitshow, Julian had to have a friend help sneak us in.”
I’m unable to relate to the story.
It's a strange thing to try and imagine a time where Julian was anything but in control the way he is, having the kind of access to everything the way he does now.
“What was Julian like back then?”
She looks in his direction, and I follow her lead. He’s talking to a model I recognize from a reality TV show and her husband who I recognize from some of his TMZ outbursts. Julian looks at ease in this crowd. Respected. And I notice the same kind of respect in Chantel’s eyes as she looks over at him.
“He’s the same Julian now as he was then. The only difference is he was broke but determined not to be.”
Julian turns and notices us looking and waves me over. I go without hesitation. He introduces me to a few people and some celebrities he knows by name, and I try my damnedest not to embarrass myself or him. I never thought I'd be the kind to get star-struck, but I'd never met any celebrities either.
The faint sounds of a trumpet interrupt some of our introductions and Julian’s eyes light up in a way I haven’t seen before.
“Does that mean it’s starting?” I ask.
“Soon.”
Chantel is immediately at our sides, as is Pierce, who is being so scarce I keep forgetting he’s here.
“Come on.” I feel the pressure of Julian’s hand at the small of my back.
We make our way to the balcony and Julian stands behind me at the railing. I curve the brim of my hat, trying to hide from the sun.
“Mr. Caine?”
I crane my head around his arm to see who it is. It’s the girl from downstairs.
“Let me know if you need anything else.” She hands him a bag and walks away.
“Here.” He shoves it in my hand.
“I already got a bag,” I tap my purse, hinting I’d already shoved everything from the first goody bag into it, including my binoculars.
“Just open it.”
“Well, what is it?”
“Selena,” he warns.
“Okay, okay.” I shove my purse under my armpit to get better leverage. Inside the bag is a rectangle box, and inside the box. “Sunglasses?”
A small smirk plays at the corner of his lips, even though he doesn’t look at me. “You mentioned it downstairs, so yeah.”
“You’re the best,” I whisper, propping up to give him a kiss on the cheek.
“I know.”
For the next few minutes, we say nothing. Since my non-hangover has subsided and the sun isn’t blinding me, I take in what it’s like seeing everything from up here. And when I say everything, I mean it. We can see it all.
I vaguely hear the announcers over the intercoms, but I know things are about to start when the crowd gets rowdy. The gates open, letting the horses fly, and while there are cheers and hollering coming from all around us, Julian doesn’t move. The tension in his body is contagious, so I don’t move either. For the following three minutes, he squeezes the shit out of my side and my hands are wrapped so tight around the railing my knuckles tremble.
“Let’s go,” he whispers once, but I know he’s not talking to me.
The horses have absolutely ridiculous names like Vampire Sparkle and Whodunit, but Nyquist—my horse—comes in first. I don’t even know what that means for me and my bet really, but I’m jumping up and down, screaming “hell yeah” when he crosses the finish line several strides before the other horses.
“You,” Julian grunts from behind me, and I’m turned around with his lips press hard against mine before I can ask him what’s wrong. “You’re my good luck charm,” he shouts over the crowd and places another soft kiss to my mouth.
Then Chantel and Pierce are on us, hugging and cheering.
I guess the guys did good, like she said.
“Holy shit!” I push a hand to my chest as we make our way back to the car. “That was exciting.”
“I’m glad you had a good time,” Julian says softly.
“Good time? It was the best! I can’t believe you know some of these people.”
He laughs, opening the door for me. “I don’t. Every year they get drunk as shit and tell me all their problems. So, when I see them the following year and they don’t remember me, they have no choice but to pretend they do because how else would I know what I’m telling them.”
“Cunning.” I smile.
“I can be.”
I kick my shoes off once we drive away from Churchill Downs. I snap a few pictures on my phone, taking a few of him, to which he goes along, playing it up for my camera. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
He squeezes my thigh and gives the driver another set of directions. “The weekend’s not over yet, sweetheart.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I feel a little bummed leaving Louisville before my birthday, but it was such an amazing experience, I decide I don’t need to do anything else to celebrate.
I yawn for the third time in a row. A few days here wasn’t enough to acclimate me to the time zone difference. It might be noon here, but my brain thinks it’s morning.
“Go to sleep.”
I nod and stretch out on the airplane couch. I’m out before Julian finishes spreading a blanket out over me.
What feels like only minutes later, Julian asks, “You awake?”
“Seriously?” I jump back.
“We’re here.” He laughs.
I grumble and hug the pillow. “Yeah right. I just fell asleep.”
“You’ve been asleep for hours.”
I grab his wrist to pull his watch into view. Nearly four hours have passed by, whereas it only
took us, like, two hours at most to get to Kentucky.
“How long have we been here?”
“What do you mean? We just got here. Look.”
I glance out the window and the city skyline is beautiful but different than what I was expecting. We’re not at the same airport we came from.
“We had one more stop to make. Come on.”
“Where are we?”
“Vegas.”
I squeal, “Shut up!”
Unlike when we left back home and had a driver waiting for us on the tarmac, we walk through a small airport. A similar sleek, black car waits for us like last time, but this guy doesn’t greet us as Mr. and Mrs. Caine. Sadly.
Another difference is we also don’t pull up to a house, but instead a hotel where a bellhop is at our door before we get out, and another one is helping with the one bag I got from the short shopping trip in Louisville. When we walk through the hotel lobby, I take in a deep breath and make a slow spin around. I’m fucking elated and have no intention of hiding it. “I heard they pump oxygen in here, do you think that’s true?”
“I think they say that about casinos, not hotels. We’re this way.”
It takes everything in me not to maul him in the elevator, but really, it’s only the idea of the bellhop being in there with us that stops me.
“Okay, right this way.” The young bellhop waves us in.
“Holy shit!” I make the rounds around the suite, which is just as large as Julian’s entire house. “This is insane.”
“I know how you feel about your views, and this is the best one I could get on short notice.”
“This is perfect,” I reassure him. I can see part of the Strip from here and the Eiffel Tower duplicate not too far away, and… “Wait, short notice?”
“I don’t know why you kept this from me.” Julian frowns then looks over my shoulder, smiling when a voice filters in behind me.
Not just a voice, voices.
“SURPRISE!”
I jump and turn around. “You guys!” Everyone is here. Hope, Blaire, Rocky, Quincy, Pierce, and Chantel.