by Kimberly Fox
“I did,” Kirsten says, nodding happily. “Is that not right?”
Tyler shakes his head and answers before I can. “It went by so fast. It feels more like two months.”
“Two days is more like it,” I mutter.
He smiles nervously at me, begging me with his eyes to be cool.
“I can’t wait for tomorrow night!” his mother says, squealing again. “I can’t wait for you to meet everyone!”
“Mom,” Tyler says, gulping as he turns to her. “Maybe we could put the party on hold for a while.”
“Tomorrow night?” I repeat as a large empty pit forms in the depths of my stomach. “Party?”
“It’s just a small dinner party,” Tyler says, nervously rubbing his hands down his pant legs.
“No, it’s not,” his mother says, waving a dismissive hand at him. “I invited the whole family and all of our friends. I just can’t wait for them to meet you!”
I glance back at the door, wondering how fast I can sprint out of here, grab my car, and drive to Mexico.
“You have to be here at seven o’clock sharp,” she says.
I turn to Tyler with a grin. If he’s going to pull a fast one on me, then I’m going to pull a fast one on him. “Will that leave us enough time to go shopping for the wedding present you promised me?”
“Wedding present?” his mother asks with a big smile on her face. “That’s so romantic.”
I turn to her and smile like a good daughter-in-law would. “Your son is very romantic.” She looks thrilled. “He promised to buy me a new car for a wedding gift. I said no, but he insisted. He said I could get any car that I wanted.”
“A new car,” Mack says, nodding as he watches me.
Tyler shifts uncomfortably in his seat. I love making him squirm.
“I’ll have Harvey meet you at the Ferrari dealership tomorrow,” Mack says nodding. “He’ll take care of you and help you get something nice.”
Tyler lets out a panicked cough. “Ferrari dealership? Dahlia is not a very flashy girl, Dad. I think she would rather have a Honda or a Toyota.”
“Nope,” I say, shaking my head. “A Ferrari sounds nice. I can get used to flashy.”
“Then you came to the right place,” Mack says, pulling out his phone. He googles something and then hands me his phone. The cars on the page look like a rapper’s wet dream. “I would suggest this one here,” he says, pointing to a bright red Ferrari that looks like it’s from the year 2036. “It’s a bit pricey at $360,000, but you don’t get married every day. If you’re not going to splurge on your pretty new wife, who are you going to splurge on?”
“Yeah, Tyler,” I say, turning to him with a grin. “Who are you going to splurge on?”
He wipes the sweat off his temple and laughs nervously.
“All right, Pumpkin. Whatever you like.”
I try to hide my evil smile. Ten minutes into this marriage, and I already have my new husband wrapped around my finger.
He doesn’t know what he got himself into.
5
Tyler
“We love her!” my mother squeals when Dahlia finally leaves.
My heart is still thumping away. I was terrified that she was going to rat me out, but she didn’t. And all it cost me was a brand-new Ferrari.
But honestly, I don’t care what it costs. As long as she’s willing to keep up the charade for a while longer, I’ll pay whatever she wants.
“Good choice, son,” my father says, patting me on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you. It’s a good decision to settle down. You’ll see in the long run that family life beats the bachelor life. Diapers, Friday nights in, and minivans may not be as luxurious and exciting as models, parties, and fine Italian cars, but it brings the type of happiness that money just can’t buy.”
He can keep his type of happiness all to himself. I only want the type of happiness that hot models can provide.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say. “I hope you’re right.”
“Come,” he says, waving me to the backyard. We walk outside as my mom grabs the phone to call her friends and brag all about her new daughter-in-law. My chest tightens when I see how happy she is. I might have gone too far this time.
She’s going to be crushed when she finds out that Dahlia and I are nothing but strangers who shared an intimate moment that neither of us can remember.
But they’re not leaving me with much of a choice. They refuse to sign the company over to me until I ‘mature’ and drop the party lifestyle. My father has told me many times that he didn’t work nights and weekends for the past five decades, building up a fortune to hand over to me and see it get wasted on private jets, expensive cars, fine champagne, and pretty girls who only like me for my money. I take offense to that. The girls like me for my big cock too.
“Sit,” he says as he pulls out a chair by the pool. “I think it’s time to talk about the future of the company and your role in it.”
My heart starts racing as I sit down beside him. This is what I’ve always wanted.
“I like the new changes you’ve made in your personal life,” he says, nodding as he looks at me. “It gives me hope.”
A thickness settles in my throat as I listen to him. My father’s always been the type to put work before fun. Even after he made his first ten million, he was still driving a rusty old car that you could hear from down the block. That’s why I was so surprised to hear him so excited about getting Dahlia a new Ferrari. It’s so not like him. He must really like her.
“It makes me think that you might be ready to take on a bigger role in the company,” he says, looking relieved that he can finally take his retirement.
“I am,” I say, nodding excitedly. I may like to party hard on the weekends, but that doesn’t mean I don’t bust my ass every day in the office, working as hard as I can to grow the company. But try telling my stubborn old man that. It’s hard to teach an old dinosaur new tricks.
It’s always been my dream to run the company. I’ve wanted my father to hand me the torch so I can run with it and show him what I’m really made of. I want to show him what I can do.
I can definitely run faster than my cousin, Nick. I’ve always feared that he would hand the torch to him and not to me.
“Good,” he says, nodding as he sizes me up. “That’s what I like to hear. I was surprised to hear that you were married, but now that I think about it, it’s pretty fitting. You’ve always flown by the seat of your pants and been a little too carefree for your own good. I was worried that your live-in-the-moment attitude and lack of concern for any consequences would get you into trouble someday, but it seems to have worked out for the best. Dahlia seems like a good catch for you. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. I think she’ll keep you in line.”
“Life has definitely become more interesting since she showed up.”
“The good ones always have that effect on men,” he says, smiling as he looks back at the house where Mom is still blabbing away on the phone.
“I’m done with the partying,” I lie. “I’ve sewn my oats. I’m ready to settle down, and I want to run the company.” I lean forward, locking eyes with him. “I can do it, Dad.”
He takes a deep breath as he leans back and looks away. “I know you can,” he says, looking uncomfortable as he stares at the pool. “You definitely have the business sense and skills to run it, but I have thousands of employees to think of. I have to pick the person who will be the perfect fit to lead the company into the next few decades. You shouldn’t get any special treatment because you’re my son. McMillan Worldwide Inc. is bigger than us. Thousands of families depend on the paychecks we give them. If the person I choose is not up to the enormous task of running it, those families may see their only source of income disappear. I can’t have that. I have to consider everyone and pick the absolute best.”
“Nick,” I mutter. I know he’s on my father’s mind right now. He always had a close connection with his brother’s son. Sometimes I
was jealous of him growing up, thinking my father wished he was his son instead of me.
My father nods. “I’m not going to lie to you, Tyler. You’re a man now. Nick is a consideration. He’s smart, clever, resourceful, and a hard worker.”
He’s also a lying, stealing creep. My father doesn’t know him like I do. All my father ever saw was Nick’s good grades and polite attitude. He never saw the darkness that Nick has buried deep inside. My uncle, Nick’s father and my dad’s brother, died years ago, so Nick and his brother Jason grew up without a dad. I think my father has always ignored Nick’s negative side out of pity.
He always chooses to ignore the missing money from the departments Nick runs, attributing it to accounting errors instead of what it clearly is: theft.
“But don’t worry about that right now,” my father says, standing up. “This is a good step in the right direction. We have a marriage to celebrate.”
I swallow hard as he stands up with a smile on his face, feeling like a liar and a creep myself.
It’s midnight when my phone lights up. It’s my beautiful new wife, probably telling me to have a good night with some sweet dreams.
Nope.
Dahlia: What the hell did you get me into?
I text back.
Tyler: What are you wearing?
Dahlia: Sweat pants and a Garfield hoodie. I’m married now. I’ve stopped trying.
Tyler: Send me a pic… minus the Garfield sweater.
Thirty seconds later she sends me a photo of her hand giving me the finger.
Tyler: Not quite what I had in mind.
Dahlia: What are you doing to me? I’m freaking out over here!
Dahlia: How many people do I have to meet tomorrow for this thing???
Tyler: Only about a hundred. Don’t worry. The new car will help calm your nerves.
Dahlia: A hundred people?!? Did I say I wanted a new car? I changed my mind and want a new yacht.
Dahlia: Bring ALL of your credit cards.
Tyler: It won’t be that bad.
Dahlia: Your mom looked so happy today. I feel bad.
I sigh when I read the text. The last heart I want to break in this world is my mother’s. She never thought I would settle down with a girl, so she had it in her head that she probably wasn’t getting any grandkids. This changed it all.
But it’s something I have to do. I can’t let the company fall into Nick’s hands. He’s going to undo everything my father worked for. I can’t let that happen, even if my father can.
Tyler: It’s all going to work out. Everything always does.
Dahlia: I believed that until I woke up married next to a stranger.
Tyler: A naked stranger.
Dahlia: Oh, believe me. I haven’t forgotten that part. It’s etched into my brain forever.
Tyler: I impressed you that much?
Dahlia: Traumatized is more like it.
Tyler: You don’t remember anything???
Dahlia: Nothing. You?
Tyler: Nada.
Dahlia: So strange…
I lower my phone and take a sip of scotch, thinking of the girl on the other end of the line. The girl who is my new wife.
I don’t know much about her besides the fact that she’s smoking hot with a bit of an uptight bitchy attitude, but in all fairness, she has every reason to be a bitch with me right now. I could have gotten the annulment, but I didn’t.
If that doesn’t bring the bitch out in a girl then I don’t know what will.
My phone lights up when I’m thinking of her smile and the cute freckles that dot the tops of her cheeks.
Dahlia: I’m going to sleep now. I want to be fresh and alert for when I buy a car that’s way too expensive.
Tyler: Goodnight. Any chance of a last minute nude pic? We are married…
Dahlia: Any chance of a last minute annulment? I do hate you…
Tyler: You don’t even know me.
Dahlia: Yet we’re married. I guess we’ll never know what happened that night.
Tyler: I guess not.
What a waste. I had sex with that stunning girl and I don’t remember a thing.
What the hell did happen that night?
6
Dahlia
Three nights ago…
“Will you relax?” Emily says, shaking her head at me. “We’re in Vegas.”
“For work,” I answer back. “Not for going on a bender.”
She laughs. “Have you ever even been on a bender? And I’m not talking about a fender bender with that old clunky car you used to drive.”
“I have.”
She snorts out a laugh. “When?”
“I have done plenty of naughty things,” I say, feeling my cheeks heat up. “But now is not the time for drinking in bars. We should be studying for tomorrow’s meeting.”
We have a big meeting with Mack McMillan, the billionaire business giant who bought out our company. I really want to make a good impression on the commander-in-chief, so that’s why I’d rather be studying in my hotel room instead of drinking in a bar. Emily doesn’t share my view.
“Oh, relax,” she says, waving a hand at me. “It’s going to be fine.”
Mr. Wallace walks over with a beer in his hand. “Beer always tastes so much better when my kid is miles away from me,” he says, smiling to himself as he sits at the table. “And it always tastes better in Vegas.”
“Dahlia has never been,” Emily says, giggling at me. “Which is probably a good thing. I don’t think she could handle Vegas.”
I roll my eyes at her. I’ll see what she can handle in tomorrow’s meeting. I’ll be answering questions like rapid fire and impressing the heck out of our new boss while she’s hungover under the table. She’ll see.
“What are you even drinking?” she asks me. “Please tell me there’s alcohol in there.”
“There’s alcohol in there,” I lie.
She grabs the glass out of my hand and tastes my drink. “This is a Shirley Temple,” she says, staring at me in disbelief. “Will you go to the bar and get yourself a proper drink for once? You’re in Vegas, not Disney World.”
I take a deep breath and look at my watch. How much longer do I have to stay here before I can go back to my hotel room and prepare for tomorrow’s meeting?
Emily looks to our boss when I don’t move. “Order her to go get an alcoholic drink,” she pleads. “This is such a buzzkill.”
“I’m not here to be your drinking buddy,” I say, getting annoyed. I’m here to impress Mr. McMillan.
Mr. Wallace is sick of our bickering. He’s been traveling with us and dealing with it all day. “Just go be a normal person for once and get a drink,” he says, taking a big sip of his beer.
I push away from the table with a roll of my eyes. “Fine.” I could use a break from them anyway, and a white wine spritzer to sip on sounds pretty nice right now.
“And no white wine spritzers,” Emily calls out to my back. “This is Vegas, not Sunday brunch. Get a real drink.”
Ugh. Am I that predictable?
I feel eyes on me as I walk to the bar, feeling a bit out of my element. I’ve never been a fan of the bar scene. I don’t understand how girls can meet guys here. It’s just full of creeps and perverts trying to take advantage of drunk girls.
Oh, great. One of those creeps sitting on the corner of the bar has his eyes on me. I turn to flash him a bitchy look but my stunned face freezes in a twisted grimace when I see what he looks like.
If the rest of the men in the bar are like warm flat beers, he’s like a fine expensive wine: Bold, strong, and looking fucking delicious in his perfectly tailored suit.
He has the kind of flawless face that makes you stop in your tracks. The kind of tousled dark brown hair that causes car accidents when he walks down the street. The kind of smile that makes you hate your life because he’s not in it. The kind of catastrophic emerald green eyes that make you think you died and went to heaven.
Simply said,
he’s beautiful.
The lines around his eyes become visible as he smiles at me. I give him my shoulder before he can see my blushing cheeks.
I’m here for business, not whatever he’s here for.
The bartender lets out an audible sigh when he sees me and then shuffles over, looking like I just ruined his entire day. “What would you like?”
The man at the end of the bar is sliding over empty stools until he’s sitting right beside me, smelling like hours waiting by the phone and tear soaked pillows.
“Whatever it is, it’s on me,” he says with a voice that feels like smooth leather.
“No, it’s not,” I say curtly, resisting the urge to look over at him. “I can pay for my own drink.”
“Ralph,” the man says to the bartender, ignoring me. “Put it on my card.”
Ugh. This is why I don’t come out to bars.
“What do you want, lady?” Ralph the bartender asks, looking annoyed that I’m making him perform his job.
“A white wine spritzer, easy on the white wine. In a martini glass, please.” The white wine spritzer is for me. The martini glass is for Emily. I’ll tell her it’s a strong cocktail to get her off my back.
“A white wine spritzer?” the man beside me says with a chuckle. “This is Vegas, not Disney World.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that?” I snap, finally turning to him. Wow. Those eyes are from another planet.
He grins now that he has my attention. “Because Vegas is a place to let loose and have fun.”
“I’m loose,” I say, trying to look casual. Damn, I never know what to do with my arms. He chuckles as he glances down at them sticking out awkwardly like the stiff arms of a broken manikin.
“I’m having fun,” I lie. My cheeks burn as his eyes inappropriately wander up and down my gray pantsuit.
“Let me show you how to have fun,” he says, meeting my eyes again.
“Are you going to jump out the window?” I ask, throwing a smirk back at him. “Because that would be really fun for me.”