by K. M. Liss
Life is so cruel and so damn unfair. Or is it just my life?
I'd give away all my millions right now just to be with him. Because money means absolutely nothing when you're not happy. And I must admit, I very rarely am.
All the hiding I do.
Hiding my wealth, and worrying what people think of me. Trying so hard not to be that spoilt rich girl everyone loves to hate. Pushing every man away because I don't want to be the girl that guys want to fuck, either for the kudos of it, or for what they think they can get out of me afterward.
Fuck this for a shit old life. Perhaps I need to disappear? Start all over again.
~ * ~
I walk through to arrivals at McCarran International feeling physically and emotionally exhausted. I didn't sleep a wink on the plane. Not that I ever really do, but after my lack of sleep the night before I could have done with a refresher nap at least.
I've got my ride arranged and I scan the sea of faces until I spot her. There she is with her long sweep of blonde hair, coral lipstick, and the overkill of bling jewelry dazzling everyone who looks in her direction.
“Kate, honey,” she squeals, waving at me and holding out her tanned arms. I approach smiling widely and sink into them gratefully, surrounded by her strong perfume and warmth.
“Mom, am I glad to see you.” I do love my mom, despite our differences. And we're definitely getting a lot closer than we used to be.
“Awww, was it a nasty long flight, honey-bunch?”
“I'm so, so tired, just get me home before I die of complete exhaustion.”
“Gonna do that, sweetie. Harry's waiting for us, we're staying at his now.”
“We are?”
“Yeah, I've moved in, four days ago. I didn't tell you, because, well, I thought you'd get all funny about it. I'm renting my place out next week.”
“Mom! Well yes, I am funny about it! Isn't this all a bit too soon? You've only been seeing him a little while.”
“As far as I'm concerned, I knew it the minute we met. Harry's my man. I told you. He's the one. He feels the same way, honey.”
“I guess it must be love at first sight then,” I say. She's never actually moved in with anyone before. This is all a little shocking. My head's spinning even more than it was from its exhaustion. I'm gonna keel over in a dead faint in her arms.
As if reading my about-to-faint thoughts, she places her arm around my shoulders and propels me across the concourse toward the pick-up point. We exit the terminal and the extreme Vegas heat wave hits me in an oven-like blast. I might even faint from the heat if the tiredness or emotion don't knock me out first.
She calls Harry, summoning him forth to collect us.
I simply cannot believe it when a black stretch limo stops by our side and the driver gets out and opens the door. I'm ushered inside the strongly air-cooled interior, which revives me a little with its icy chill.
And there he is. The famous Harry.
Words and thoughts fail me.
I'm stunned. Not only is he incredibly good looking. He is also incredibly young.
I'd place him in his early forties.
Short dark hair with a touch of gray at the temples, brown eyes, and a light tan.
He's fit and damn hot.
On first sight I can quite understand why my mom has chosen this man to be “the one.” I'd choose him myself.
“Hi, I'm Kate,” I say in a dreamy voice, sitting opposite him while my mom takes a seat at his side, placing a noisy smacker on his clean-shaven cheek.
“Hey, Kate. Pleased to finally meet you.” His slow, deep-timbred, Texan drawl rumbles pleasantly in my ears. He flashes me a gorgeous white grin and a flirty wink. My mom rolls her eyes at him.
“Behave yourself, honey,” she chides humorously.
He chuckles at her. It's a deep sexy chuckle. I already like Harry. I can tell he's just perfect for my mom.
“Sweetheart, you know me. Only got eyes for you.” They have a pretty hot kiss. I try not to be too disgusted.
“So, where d'you live, Harry?” I ask when he resurfaces. I'm interested to find out where I'm going to be living as well.
They look at each other and smile.
“Is that funny somehow?”
“It's a bit of a joke. I've got a lot of houses. Way too many. But right now I'm living in Summerlin, Promontary, by Red Rock Reserve. D'you know it?”
“I know Summerlin, vaguely.”
It's millionaires row, who doesn't?
“And it's just you living there, is it?” I probe.
“Up till now, yeah. I've two kids, twins, Kelsey and Brendan, they're twenty-five and live with their mom in Austin.”
“Right, well that's cool. I'm looking forward to meeting them one day.”
“You can meet them today. They're visiting right now. Kate, for a two-week vacation with their dad, and Bren's such a cutie. It's a great house you know. You're gonna love it here,” my mom enthuses, snuggling up to Harry and kissing his ear voraciously.
“So how did you guys actually meet?” I try to distract them from kissing each other so much in my presence. I know they met in the casino, but I'd like some background.
“I was having a break, chatting with Des at the bar, and Harry bought me a drink.”
“Really? You didn't deal him a royal flush then?”
“Oh ha ha...no...Harry doesn't play the card tables...he likes Roulette and shooting Craps, dontcha, honey?”
“Yep, there's nothin' more satisfying than throwing a bucket load of money down the Roulette and Craps drain.” He laughs loudly. “Well, apart from you, sweetheart, you're a whole different league of satisfying,” he adds, with a smoldering hot look at Mom and a tight squeeze of her shoulders. They peck at each other's lips a few dozen times.
I hope they're not gonna be all over each other like this the whole time I'm here. Watching your mom make out is so eww. It's kinda hard to take, one way or another.
I sit looking out the window, listening to Mom's non-stop chatter, as the familiar sights of Vegas pass by and we turn off toward Summerlin. After a minute we approach The Ridges, an exclusive gated community. The houses here are out of this world. I'm fascinated as we glide through the expensive neighborhood. We arrive outside a simple, stone, one-story house and come to a stop, getting out of the limo. This is not what I expected. Although it's pretty large, it's so plain. Two trees sit out the front in the gravel beds accompanied by some cacti. That's the only decoration. It has an industrial look to it.
The stretch limo departs.
“Is that your car and chauffeur?” I ask Harry.
“No, I hired it just for you. A welcome to remember.”
“Aww, thank you. That's real sweet of you.” I give him a hug.
“Let's go, girls.” He shepherds us inside his rather plain-looking modest house.
And there “modest” ends. This is, without doubt, the most amazing house I have ever been in or seen.
Sweeping views of the canyon and the golf course are visible from the full-length back windows. Everything is glass, glass, glass...even the floor. It's all ambient lighting, up, down, and sideways, and so modern tech. There's a glass wet bar in the living room, a circular dining room, with a substantial glass table, a glassy kitchen like no other on this earth, and a pool which is so massive I'm sure it's Olympic standard. I tour round behind the two of them in a daze soaking it all up.
“Harry, this is so beautiful,” I finally manage to say after a non-ending stream of oh God's, wow's, jeez's and heavenlys, leave my lips.
“It's my favorite place, this and Cayman, but that's a vacation spot. This is home.”
“It's more than a home. It's a crystal paradise.”
“Come see your room, honey,” Mom says with an excited squeak.
I follow her long tanned legs and short white skirt down the corridor, Harry taking up the rear. She flings open a door with a theatrical “Voila...!”
“Oh. My. God.” I walk inside
, stunned. No glass in here, apart from the window. But it's more than a bedroom. It's a white fairy tale of a room. The most feminine room ever. A massive bed covered in white cushions, a white canopy. Thick white carpeted floor, white fluffy rugs. The most sensational floral pastel mural has been painted on the white wall. I wander up to it to take a proper look. Such beautiful colors, pale peach, minty green and beige roses, lilies, ivy... “Oh Mom, Harry. It's lovely. Thank you so much.”
“You're welcome, honey. Bambi worked so hard setting it up for you. She didn't have a lot of time. We're real glad you're here, come stay anytime you like, ya hear? This is your home now,” he says warmly, hugging Mom tightly to his side.
I'm so pleased Mom has found Harry. Although she's dated a ton of men, she's been so picky and choosy. If they were not exactly right, they didn't get a second look in. Obviously waiting for the right one was worth the long wait. He couldn't get any better in my opinion. They suit each other so well...personality and looks, they're both so youthful looking.
They both stand there looking at me expectantly.
Jesus, I want to move in permanently. This really feels like a family forming here.
And then I remember, I already have a life in L.A.
I can't think what to say, I'm so overwhelmed by everything, so I stick to dead simple. “Thanks, Harry.”
Lucky old Mom. A gorgeous house and even more gorgeous guy who obviously adores the panties off her. I really hope it all works out in the long run.
“Let's have a drink, shall we? I've a bottle or two chilling. I'll go check if the kids are around.”
Mom and I return to the living room where she goes behind the wet bar and picks out a bottle of champagne from the cooler. I sit on the barstool. I'm flagging with tiredness but the excitement of being here is keeping me going.
“He's lovely, Mom, and obviously so loaded. This place is awesome.”
“I adore him, honey, I really do, completely in love. I couldn't care less about the money. I've got my own cash, you know that.” She smiles one of her beautiful smiles. “I'm so pleased you're here, Kate. I've missed you. Couldn't you stay a while longer than a week?”
“I could. I'll have to miss Sienna's party, but hell, why not?”
“That's good. We can do some nice things together, I've got quite a lot of leave due at work.”
“I'd like that, Mom,” I say.
I can do with some chatty happy company. Mom's full of it. She puts some tall champagne glasses on the bar and starts to open the bottle as I hear voices approaching behind me.
I turn and almost fall off my barstool as I lay eyes on him.
Brendan.
SEX GOD.
Six foot plus of muscular tattooed gorgeousness dressed in white and blue shorts and a white tank top. Chocolate-brown eyes, short sun-bleached brown hair, bare feet.
Christ almighty.
I think my jaw must be on the floor.
“I just called Kelsey. She's out, downtown with friends. She'll be back tomorrow. But I dragged Bren off his laptop.”
“Hi, Kate. How you doing?”
No way, is it really possible that his accent is even sexier than Harry's?
He holds out his arms for a welcome hug, a warm smile on his chiseled handsome face.
“I'm just great, Brendan, how about you?”
Things are looking pretty damn good now that he's dropped in on the scene. I try to tell my brain that his presence is a good band-aid to my crushed feelings about Aaron.
We hug and air kiss. I breathe in the fresh male scent he's covered in.
“I'm cool and call me Bren,” he says against my ear, his arms slipping down around my waist.
“Well isn't this nice?” my mom says with a giggle as she pops open the champagne. “I just know you two are gonna get along sooo well.” I catch her giving Harry a sly look as she starts to pour the champagne out. I hope my mom's not been matchmaking. She's always trying to fix me up with guys. It's dead embarrassing at times. Not that I'd mind being fixed up with Bren, if he wasn't who he was. It's a shame he's a touch brother-ish.
We sit down on the white leather sofa sipping the chilled fizz and chatting. It's easy talk. I don't have to hide anything here at all. Brendan wants to know all about me. What I do, my friends, my trips to Venice. Obviously my mom's already filled him in on the basics. After a while we kinda zone Mom and Harry out. In fact I don't notice that they've left us to it, we're so engrossed in each other and our conversation.
“So you like your room?” he asks.
“It's gorgeous.”
“Come take a look at mine, it's the other end of the house.” He offers me his hand. I get up and carrying my champagne, we stroll off together.
“How many rooms are there?”
“Five beds, five baths, five others, and the basement. I use that for guitar practice, as it's soundproof.”
“Are you in a band?”
“Nothing special, it's just me and the guys having a good time. We play a few clubs downtown in Austin.”
“Who are the other guys?”
“Friends and someone I met through work.”
“You work?” He obviously has no need to work.
“Yeah, Dad insists we work. Besides, I kinda like my job.”
“What d'you do?”
“Auto sales.”
“Into cars are you?”
“Always have been, yeah.”
He stops at the end of the corridor and opens the door. I walk inside in awe. He has a pretty impressive rock mural painted on his wall. It's a pale gray interior, a huge black leather bed, and a limed-oak floor. A selection of guitars hang on the wall behind the bed. It's immaculate. He's a tidy freak. Not one item of clothing, not even a sock, is lying abandoned on the floor.
“Oh this is just beautiful. Who's the band?” I ask taking a closer look at the wall.
“It's a mixture. I painted my fantasy band. That's Slash, Kurt Cobain, Jon Bonham....” He points—
“You painted this?” I ask, the words filtering through. It's truly amazing work.
“Yeah, I majored in Art. I did the one in your room as well. Bambi said do something pretty; flowers and stuff. It was a real rush job to get it done for you.”
“Awww, you did that, too? That's so sweet of you. I absolutely love it. And your room is great as well. I bet your girlfriend loves all this, you being in a band and such a talented guy.” I ask, fishing for information about his relationship status.
“I guess,” he says with a twinkle in his eye. He leans against the wall, cross-armed, staring at me intently.
“What?” I ask, self-consciously.
“Your mom never said just how beautiful you are, Kate,” he says quietly. My stomach flips with his sincere compliment.
“My mom never told me anything about you at all. And you're way too hot.”
We both laugh, getting past our mutual admiration.
I sit on his bed.
“What's your band called?” I ask.
He points to the wall. The words Dream Storm are painted on the top.
“Dream Storm? That's a really cool name. And what d'you do, rock?”
“We're trans genre, but lean toward rock, I guess.”
“So who writes your stuff?” Obviously this is of great interest to me.
“We do that together, score and lyrics, it's a team effort.”
“I write songs,” I reveal a touch nervously.
“You do? What kind?”
“The sexy kind.”
“Oh ha ha... Really?”
“Not just that, all types, but yeah, normally romantically driven.”
“Maybe we can swap ideas?”
“Brainstorm?”
“Yeah, let's get blasted and come up with some really outrageous lyrics.”
“That sounds like a fun evening.”
“Yeah, it could be. And by the way, I'm in between girlfriends at the moment.”
“Well how about that? I
'm in between boyfriends, too.” It hurts to say that lightheartedly, but I'm trying to be cool with Bren. He doesn't need to know I'm a disaster. Not yet anyway.
“That's great news. We're the perfect partners, how about it?” He grins.
“Oh yeah. Kinda presumptuous, aren't you?” I laugh.
“Yeah, very. Let's hang out. I like you, Kate. I sense you like me too, so...”
“As good friends though, very good friends even. But no sex, okay?” I joke.
“Just tell me, why don't you?” He laughs loudly.
“Laying down the ground rules, hot step-bro to be.”
“I don't follow rules too well. You might have to remind me if the situation arises.”
My mom and Harry suddenly appear in the room.
“So there you both are. Getting along well, I hope,” Mom says with a knowing look at Brendan.
“Yep, we're well acquainted, ain't we, Kate,” Brendan says walking toward me and taking my hands, pulling me off the bed. “Go get your swimsuit on, we're having a swim and a doze watching the sunset.”
“Kinda bossy as well, aren't you?” I point out, smiling like an idiot at my mom and Harry as he leads me out of his room, off down the corridor.
“Mmm, dead bossy, highly presumptuous, and exceptionally demanding.”
“Well, Mr. Bossy Boots, and all that, I'm real sorry but I'm too dang tired to swim. I'll drown if I go in. Can't I watch you splash about instead?”
“Oh no, you're going in, girl. I'm gonna get you all wet and even more exhausted, snuggle up close, and blow you dry.”
“That sounds nice.” I snigger as we come to a stop by my door.
More than nice, damn hot! I might even be steaming dry. What the hell?
I really shouldn't be thinking these things. I'm in mourning. For him.
“Yeah, I'm nice all over, maybe you'll find out some time. Now strip off and get something really tiny on, then I can see a lot more of you on the pool deck.”
He walks away looking back at me over his shoulder.
Jesus he's far too sexy for a step-bro.