Aaliyah and the Billionaire's Lamp

by Catelyn Meadows

  River’s guard closed in. “What happened? What did she say?”

  Zayn marched. Back and forth. Back and forth, from one barstool to the other. “Just how wonderful it’s been getting to know you in my place.”

  River felt startled that Zayn was this bothered. He’d known—he’d been the one to tell him to take her to dinner.

  “What did you expect?” River asked. “You left me here to deal with her.”

  “I can see you’ve been dealing with her.”

  “What does that mean?” River asked, grimacing. He should probably have worded that a little differently.

  “You tell me.” Zayn folded his arms.

  River offered his hands as if in surrender. “I ate dinner with her the night you were supposed to. The next day, I went to tell her father I was leaving, and he suggested I help her plan your wedding while you were gone.”

  “Wedding plans,” Zayn scoffed. “What a joke.”

  “Aaliyah thought so too,” River said, “seeing as how you weren’t there.”

  “Tell me then, did you pick out my suit? Her flowers? How she should do her hair?” His derision was dripping.

  “I can’t believe you’re this upset by it,” River said.

  “Sorry, man.” Zayn raked his hands through his hair and sat on the loveseat in front of the flat-screen. “I’m on edge from Norris’ accusations, from Celia calling me while I was at the pool, from talking to Aaliyah, from everything.”

  “Then you know it’s not a threat. Norris is going to sue you for negligence.”

  Zayn muttered under his breath.

  “What did you do while you were there, man?”

  “Celia kept talking to me, all right? I kissed her, hoping it would get her off my back, that it would let me focus on what I went there to do, but she just wouldn’t ease up. She ended up meeting me at Norris’ house and again while I was with him at his office.”

  River released a groan. “You know better, man.”

  “Come on, Riv. I didn’t invite her to either of those places. She practically stalked me.”

  “I’m sure she did,” River said. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. You broke things off with her the last time you were there. She probably wanted to make sure she saw you as much as she could since you were obviously open to it.”

  Zayn covered his face with a pillow. “Unbelievable. I guess there wasn’t a better time to know my engagement is also over.”

  “If you call this situation an engagement,” River said without thinking.

  Aaliyah had ended it. No wonder they both left the rooftop in such a rush. River couldn’t say he was relieved, which surprised him. The whole situation left him in a confused fog.

  Zayn lowered the pillow. “You were getting on my grill for Celia, Riv. All while you were hooking up with Aaliyah? In my place,” he said, derisive.

  “I wasn’t hooking up with her,” River argued. “I was spending time with her at your and her father’s request.”

  “Spending time? Is that all it was?”

  “At first,” River said, hedging. “Though you should know, we kissed.”

  Zayn’s frown deepened. Several ticks passed before he released a sigh and shook his head. “I’d fire you if you weren’t so reliable.”

  River took the nearest barstool. “And if I didn’t handle so much for you,” he added. He clenched his fists, hoping he hadn’t overstepped. Their relationship had always been more like a couple of old friends instead of boss and employee. As intricate as this mess was, Zayn was still his boss.

  “I suppose I deserve that,” Zayn said. “I was in Fiji with Celia, when I might as well have been here.”

  River’s palms tingled. He checked his pockets, but the lamp wasn’t there. An odd feeling of hopelessness, of helplessness, swept over him. He crossed to where Zayn sat and took the armchair next to him.

  “I wish I could fix this,” Zayn said, sliding him a look. “Can’t you do something? Rub that lamp of yours and make it all go away?”

  River exhaled noisily. So Zayn knew about his lamp after all. “Sorry, man. If I could grant wishes I would, but I can’t.”

  Zayn waved him off. “Aaliyah made it clear I put too much on you anyway.”

  River’s brows rose. “She said that?”

  “Not exactly, but I got the drift.”

  “Look, man, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right.” He inhaled, long and slow, before releasing the air. “Sounds like I ought to get back to Fiji and see if I can smooth things over with Norris. Can you—?”

  “I’m already on it,” River said. He’d made that call the moment he’d gotten off with Zayn’s lawyer. He’d scheduled Zayn’s plane for an imminent departure.

  Unease wriggled within his chest. Zayn wasn’t the only one who needed a flight. River felt detached, as though he’d suddenly lost his anchor. He was adrift. The days he’d spent with Aaliyah had been a dream, but with Zayn leaving, clarity began settling over him. This thing with Aaliyah couldn’t happen. It’d been a fling between two confused people, nothing more.

  River needed to step out of dreams and back into real life. He lived in New York. She lived in Florida. Zayn needed him right now, more than he ever had. Aaliyah’s father had too much hold over her. It was time for him to get his lamp back from her. It was time for him to go home and do what he could to forget her.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Aaliyah reeled from her conversation with Zayn. She’d been upfront and honest, just as she wanted to be. Why didn’t she feel better about the way things ended?

  She stopped at her room long enough to toss her towel onto the floor and slip a thin, woven swim dress over her swimsuit. She hurried to her father’s suite. Lisa answered the door.

  “He’s in there,” she said.

  Aaliyah took a right, going through the seating area and toward his bedroom. “Papa?” she called softly.

  The room was too quiet. He said he needed rest, but this silence had an element of suspicion with it. Worry began to worm its way through her stomach. She found her father lying in his bed, on top of the covers. He still had his sandals on. One hand rested at his stomach, and he gazed out the window.

  “Papa, is everything all right?”

  “Fine,” he said tiredly. “Just fine. I can’t endure much sun.”

  “I’m sorry, Papa.”

  Gradually, he rotated his head to face her. It was so strange to see him with his hair cut short, trimmed so close to the scalp.

  Papa offered a hand. Aaliyah’s heart lifted. She crossed to the bed and set hers in it.

  He patted her with too-soft skin. “It’s all right. I’ve been privy to many uncomfortable situations, my daughter, but I must say my heart goes out to young Zayn. He always seems to have everything in order. This is the first time I’ve seen him out of sorts.”

  Aaliyah couldn’t deny the pity she’d felt for Zayn too. He’d sounded truly distraught and completely thrown off-guard. She wondered if she’d done the right thing by telling him the truth when she did, considering how the conversation between them had ended. But his distress over his business was no reason for her to fake acceptance of something she didn’t feel.

  She sank onto her father’s bedside. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he said, repeating himself. “Tell me. How did your conversation with him go?”

  She inhaled. “We don’t have to talk about that now,” she said. “You look like you need some rest.”

  His eyes drifted closed. His head lolled on his pillow. “I do. Rest would be very nice right about now.”

  Aaliyah hesitated, wondering if he wanted her to stay with him. His eyes remained closed. After several moments, his chest lifted and fell in a slower rhythm. Yes, her problems could wait. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and headed out into the hall.

  While she would wait to share her conversation with Zayn with her father for another day, she wanted—needed—to talk
to River. Zayn’s insinuations about the reasons for River’s attention were haunting. They had far too much potential to be true. Why else would River have paid so much attention to her these past few days? Yet, they’d had something unmistakable between them from the start. Had it only been on her end? Was River really just taking advantage of an opportunity?

  She couldn’t accept it. There had been moments between them that had been so palpable, so keepable. She couldn’t have imagined the way he’d looked at her or the way his attention had seemed so genuine.

  Aaliyah took the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator. Her hair was still a tangle, but the thin, woven swim dress did a decent job covering her swimsuit. Descending a few flights of stairs, she approached River’s door and knocked.

  After only a few pulses, River opened the door. His hair was deliciously wet and snarled, and he wore jeans… and nothing else. Her gaze flicked to his bronze chest, and she cleared her throat.

  “Hey,” he said. “Sorry, I thought you’d be Zayn. Otherwise, I would have put a shirt on.”

  “Are you expecting him?”

  River stepped back, leaving room for her to enter. Turning, he slipped on the t-shirt that was sitting on the edge of an armless chair.

  “No, I just got out of the shower and thought maybe he needed something. He’s had a pretty rough day.”

  Regret squirmed inside of her. “Yeah, I guess he has. Did he tell you I’ve ended our engagement?”

  River frowned. “Yeah, he did.”

  Aaliyah was all nerves. River was supposed to be relieved. Instead, he seemed upset. What was bothering him?

  “Yeah,” she went on anxiously. “While we were swimming, we talked it over and I told him how I was feeling.”

  “That explains a lot,” River said under his breath.

  He might as well have slapped her. “I’m happy about it, River. Why aren’t you?”

  He ran a hand through his wet hair. “I wonder if now may not have been the best time for news like that. Zayn is dealing with a lot, and it was just one more thing.”

  “Maybe it would have been if he actually cared about our engagement,” Aaliyah argued. Where was this coming from? “I didn’t think he’d even mind.”

  “He minded,” River said.

  Aaliyah couldn’t understand this at all. She asked him if he wanted to be with her. He’d told her yes. What had changed?

  She decided to remedy this with an explanation.

  “I thought your lamp was some silly trinket, but I think you were right. I think it really does work. I never would have had the courage to be straightforward with my father, with Zayn, without it. I’ve also alerted crews to start renovations on our San Diego Bay resort. My father is hearing me out for the first time in my life, River. I know it’s because of you. Because of your lamp.”

  He closed his eyes and shifted. Away from her.

  “I really am sorry for how things are going for Zayn right now. But I also see good things happening. Now that the engagement is over, we can take it slow. Get to know each other and see if this is even going to work.”

  He still said nothing. The air filled with uncertainty.

  Finally, he pivoted and spoke. “I don’t know, Aaliyah. It’s not that I wouldn’t like to get to know you better, but I have to check with Zayn.”

  Her head reared. “You have to run your dating life past him?”

  He rested a hand on his side. “I’m just saying it wouldn’t feel right to start dating you now. Not after you and he ended things. Speaking of which, do you still have my lamp? I kind of need it back.”

  His words stung with physical, literal strength and left her with a gasp. “Yeah, I’ve got it in my room.”

  “Great. I’ve got to head back to New York and get some things straightened out. I’d really like to take it with me.”

  She waited in pulsing anticipation for him to add that he’d like to take her with him too.

  But he didn’t. There were no additional comments, no flirting, flashing gazes. Zayn was dealing with a lot, so that meant River wanted nothing to do with her anymore.

  She couldn’t believe she’d fallen for it. Fallen for him. Zayn had been right. Now that he was back, River had no more need to spend any more time in her company.

  What a fool she’d been. She’d flung herself at him when he’d come to her room. No wonder he hadn’t seemed interested in staying longer. He’d done everything he could to keep his distance from her because he knew she wasn’t worth it.

  Her pulse was shooting in a dozen directions as she made her way into the hall, back to the elevator, and to her room. She moved in a disconnected way, with distance between her bones, as though someone else was controlling her actions. Lowering herself onto her bed, she stared at the wall.

  That settled it. At least she no longer had to marry Zayn. River would take his lamp and be gone from her life too.

  Fine. She would let him. She’d give him his lamp and be finished with them both.

  With renewed, affronted purpose, Aaliyah marched to the bathroom. She rummaged through the wadded towel on the floor where she’d tossed it when she’d returned after swimming.

  Her fingers groped for the hard lump clustered within the towel’s folds, but everywhere she touched, the towel offered no resistance. Aaliyah lifted it, ready to shake the lamp free.

  Nothing fell to the floor.

  Panic crept up her throat. She skimmed the floor, searching frantically, patting the carpet as though the lamp would miraculously appear. She checked the hall, the elevator; she scampered around on the rooftop, searching the lounger where she’d placed it while she’d swam earlier. She even went to the rooftop’s edge and rested her hands on the rim of the glass wall with flutters of desperation.

  There was nothing for it. She’d lost his lamp.

  No wonder her luck seemed to be changing. River was definitely not going to want anything to do with her after this.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Where could the lamp have gone? Aaliyah had made sure it was in her towel before she’d wadded it up and hauled it back to her room. But she’d turned the place upside down—twice! She dug through the contents of every drawer, she unburied her closet and even found the missing half to one of her favorite pairs of shoes, but the lamp was nowhere in sight.

  “What am I going to do?” she whispered to the room at large.

  A knock struck, and her insides squirmed. River was here, ready to claim what belonged to him. He’d made it clear he was no longer interested in her. She wanted to at least part on good terms, but how could they now that she’d lost something so precious to him?

  Aaliyah steeled herself and opened the door. Lisa stood at the threshold, chewing her lip. Lisa never chewed her lip.

  “Lisa? What’s wrong?”

  “Sorry to bother you, but you should know your father collapsed.”

  Sudden coldness washed over her. “He what? When?” He’d been fine an hour ago. He’d been lying in bed!

  “A few minutes ago,” Lisa said. “He said he was feeling off and called me to bring him a glass of water. He attempted to answer the door, and when I stepped through, he collapsed.” Her voice broke.

  Aaliyah slipped into her sandals while utter fear tumbled through her. “Did you call an ambulance?”

  “I did. They’re on their way.”

  Aaliyah gripped her hands. “Thank you, Lisa. Let’s go.”

  A series of Nevers played out. Aaliyah never thought she would ride in the back of an ambulance. She never thought she’d hold her father’s hand while paramedics pumped air into his mouth. She never thought she’d wonder if these were her last moments with her father.

  Aaliyah got to know the waiting room at St. Martin’s hospital. The number of chairs, the stray newspapers, the complimentary bottles of water and cracker packages. She paced the floor. She wrung her hands. She sat and stared mindlessly at her phone. Finally—finally—the nurse called her toward a set of double d
oors.

  “He’s ready to see you,” she said.

  Aaliyah trailed down a wide, cold hallway covered with linoleum and loneliness. She didn’t want this to be her last memory with her father. Her heart wasn’t pounding—it was tearing itself into pieces.

  The nurse stopped and indicated an open door. Number 1235.

  A curtain kept Papa from sight. Aaliyah rounded it to find him in a hospital gown beneath a thin blanket. An IV was strapped to his hand with bright pink gauze. Tears of relief sprang to her eyes. He was awake. He was okay.

  “There’s my princess,” he said, his voice feeble.

  The bed was propped to support his head. She suspected he wouldn’t be able to hold himself up otherwise.

  She bent to kiss his cheek. “Papa, what happened?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Still waiting for the doctor to come. I think it was this last treatment I had,” he said. “I’ve already had two rounds of chemo. I think it’s this old body’s way of saying it’s had enough.”

  She pushed back tears and did her best to smile. To stay strong for him. “I don’t believe that. You said it yourself, Papa. You’re a fighter.”

  He patted her hand, his eyelids fluttering. “You’re absolutely right. I am fighting this. I think this time the cancer is winning.”

  Aaliyah sniffled. She couldn’t let this happen. She refused to believe he was dying. “I talked to Zayn,” she said, trying to lift the mood and take his mind—and hers—away from the glum subject. “I never got the chance to tell you what happened.”

  His gaze was direct. He pulled her hand closer, and she strode toward the bed, resting a hand on the railing. “I don’t think you should end things with him, Aaliyah. You need to have someone look after you.”

  “I can look after myself, Papa.”

  “Give Zayn another chance,” he pleaded.

  She shook her head. She couldn’t do this now. “No. I’m sorry, I know it’s your wish for me, but I have wishes for myself too, and marrying a stranger isn’t one of them. I respect you, Papa. I love you and honor you, but I can’t do that.”

  He released her hand. The action was so deliberate it shocked her.