Bad Boys & Billionaires: An Anthology

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Bad Boys & Billionaires: An Anthology Page 32

by K. L. Middleton


  “They’re gone,” I called back. A second later, she joined me on the couch. “You know, I understand the importance of this weekend for Marcus’ company, I really do. And I’d never claim to fully comprehend the logistics involved in joining two international conglomerates…”

  “But?” she prompted.

  “…but I do not understand what that has to do with the state of my cuticles.”

  She nodded wisely. “I lost focus about the time one of them started lecturing me on the merits of kale.”

  “Was that Chuck with the mustache?”

  “Charleigh with the…well, also with the mustache.”

  I pressed my fists into my eyes and stifled an exasperated shriek. “Amanda, what the fuck am I doing here? I don’t want to be responsible for all this!”

  She looked at me solemnly. “With great power, comes great—”

  “Don’t quote Spiderman at me, I’m being serious.” I stared around the crowded apartment at a loss. “What the hell have I gotten myself into?”

  She scooted closer to me on the couch and patted my knee sympathetically. “Bex, you’re going to be fine. Everything going on here—the merger, the company—you’re not responsible for any of it. Marcus asked you to come along for the ride and pretend to be his girlfriend. Drink some cocktails, make the old man laugh with your unsophisticated wiles.” She winked. “And it’s all done in forty-eight hours. It’s going to be a breeze.”

  Deevus hopped up onto my lap and waved his tail in my face. “Sure, a breeze,” I echoed with a self-righteous sniff. “All I have to do is convince a resort full of the wealthiest people in the world that I’m supposed to be there. That I’m a mover and a shaker, just like them.”

  Amanda considered this for a moment. “Try not to talk so much.”

  I laughed and smacked her with a pillow as Deevus leaped for safety.

  She chuckled and dodged, but her eyes grew thoughtful as they landed on my empty, unused luggage. “You know, I have to admit—it’s a ballsy move. Especially considering your track record.”

  I frowned. “What does that mean—my track record?”

  She shrugged. “You look before you leap.”

  “As the proverb instructs us…”

  “No, I mean…you never actually leap. You just stand there. Like a stunted frog.” She yawned and stretched back onto the couch. “Or like…a startled antelope.”

  I watched the wheels turning with concern.

  “It’s like if the Brothers Grimm did a series with Lisa Frank. That’s how you see the world. I’m trying to compliment you.” She tossed back her hair and grinned. “This is you taking the plunge. It makes me proud!”

  “You sound like my mother.”

  She shrugged. “Sharon and I talk.”

  “Stop,” I advised, “before it turns you.”

  “You know, you actually have to pack those.” She cocked her head at the two suitcases angled toward us by the door, and I stifled a small shudder. I was starting to feel like they were watching me, like they knew I didn’t have enough nice things to fill them.

  “That’s the least of my problems,” I stalled. “Did I tell you he’s flying us there on his own little plane?”

  My blood ran cold at the prospect. Aside from sharks and certain types of shellfish, I had no bigger fear in the world than flying. I had successfully avoided it almost my entire life, routinely convincing increasingly suspicious friends that a road trip would be much more fun than hurling our bodies at breakneck speeds through the air. The only time I hadn’t managed to talk my way out of it, I’d tripped on the moving sidewalk in the terminal, careened into a glass railing, and spend most of the actual flight drifting in and out of consciousness as anxious flight attendants hovered above. Needless to say, it had been a one-way ticket.

  “Wow, no you didn’t.” Amanda’s eyes grew wide. “Can’t exactly road trip to the islands, can you? But it’s a private jet. Won’t that make it better?”

  I threw up my hands in despair. “No! Would you rather place your life in the hands of something really big—full of people you can sacrifice and eat in case it crashes—or something really, really small? So small that they won’t find it when it slips into the warm waters north of Cuba, and the occupants are preyed upon by bull sharks and—”

  “And mollusks, yeah I hear you.” She nodded knowingly, cooling my rising panic before it could really get off the ground. “Fortunately, your brilliant best friend already anticipated this little snag, and I packed you one hell of a carry-on…”

  Chapter 19

  As per my instructions, I had my cab pull up along a back entrance I never knew existed at LAX and made my way past the main hangers to a smaller runway full of town cars and tiny private planes. Instead of metal detectors and frazzled-looking parents, there were mini-red carpets and floating trays of champagne. A stately porter wearing a suit that cost as much as my car pulled my bags from the trunk before I’d even realized what was happening, and the second I set foot on the tarmac, I was under siege.

  “Miss White, did you remember your passport?”

  “Miss White, were you able to take a look at the itinerary we sent over?”

  “Miss White, are you by chance allergic to mushrooms?”

  I rotated around, mumbling confused, half-formed answers, when I suddenly saw Marcus walking toward me from behind the plane. My face broke into a huge smile and I realized, with a bit of relief, that I was actually excited to see him. I wasn’t sure if I would be after our rather abrupt farewell on the beach. In truth, I didn’t know what I would be feeling.

  That was one of the reasons I had come prepared.

  The second he saw me smile, his face brightened with a huge, boyish grin. He must have been as nervous as I was.

  “Miss White,” he mimicked the tone of the minions as he got closer, “has anyone told you that you look absolutely ravishing today?”

  “Why, Mr. Taylor, aren’t you the sweetest? Thank you so much for the lovely compliment.” I couldn’t stop staring into his eyes. “Damn, your eyes are gorgeous. I could get so lost in them.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re so fine. I can see why you have your choice of women. What woman wouldn’t want to jump your bones? Hell, I wouldn’t mind joining the Mile-High Club with you right about now.” I squeezed his butt. “Interested?”

  I think I might have slurred that last part.

  His whole face changed in an instant. “This isn’t like you at all. Are you drunk?”

  I dropped my voice conspiratorially. “Um, maybe a little. Not a lot. Just a little. Trust me, it’s better this way.”

  “Why?”

  “You see, I have this fear of flying. And I almost didn’t come. But then I didn’t want to disappoint you. We made a deal, and I knew I had to get my ass to the Caribbean. I hope you’re not mad at me.”

  “I’ve been drunk a few times myself. Guess the shoe is on the other foot.”

  “Mr. Taylor,” the pilot interrupted.

  Marcus put his arm almost protectively around my shoulders as I swayed slightly in place.

  “We’re ready for takeoff when you are,” the pilot said.

  “Thank you, Jim.” Marcus led me toward a tiny ramp away from the bustling flight crew, fighting to keep a straight face all the while. Once we were relatively alone, he took me gently by the arm and pulled me closer. “You should’ve told me you were afraid to fly.”

  “What else would you have done? Get me some Valium and knock me out?”

  Eyes darting suspiciously around, I held my purse between us and opened it a crack so he could peek inside. About twenty vodka shooters, courtesy of my concerned roommate, clinked together as I brought the bag protectively back to my chest.

  “Shit, Rebecca!” His eyes widened in bemused disbelief. “How many have you already had?”

  “Just six,” I whispered. “And keep your voice down. I don’t want them confiscated.”

  “Why would yo
u—”

  “You don’t understand. It was this or a concussion.” My voice grew sullen as I remembered. “Like last time…”

  “A concussion? Rebecca, I don’t know what you’re—”

  “I said to keep your voice down.”

  Two hands shot out and took me firmly by the shoulders. “Rebecca White.” He lowered his beautiful eyes down to mine. “I own the plane. Nothing’s going to get confiscated. You can bring whatever you want. That’s not what concerns me right now.”

  “Marcus…that’s brilliant!”

  “What concerns me is why you felt the need to drug yourself before takeoff. Is this like another irrational peacock phobia? Should I be worried?”

  I cocked my head to the side and studied him seriously. The edges around his hair had begun to blur, but other than that, I felt like I was on top of my game.

  I stepped toward him. “Tell me something…how did that day begin? Did you just wake up, peer out over your copy of The Gilded Faithful, and say, ‘You know what, this grass needs, a peacock!’”

  He pursed his lips. “I’m getting you on the plane.”

  “I’m getting you on the plane!”

  “Mr. Taylor,” the pilot was back, “might I have a moment—”

  “Not now, Jimmy.”

  “Marcus, stop this nonsense at once! Indulge the man!”

  Two pairs of eyes flew my way, and I thought it best I excuse myself to the cabin.

  All I knew about private planes was what I’d learned from the movies, but I’d like to think that between my natural street smarts and the pint of vodka rolling around in my stomach, I played it pretty cool. When the stewardess came round and asked me if I’d like a glass of champagne, I politely declined, asking only where the extra life vests were kept so that I might fashion myself a raft. She disappeared soon after and I never saw her again. A few minutes after Marcus came on board, we strapped ourselves to the chairs and the flying deathmobile shot off into the heavens.

  “Rebecca?” A deliberate pause. “Rebecca, are you still with me?”

  I opened my eyes to see the striking face of an ethereal billionaire staring back at me.

  “Did anybody ever tell you how beautiful you are?” I asked.

  “You’re being so nice and giving me so many compliments. I’m enjoying this.”

  “Maybe you should keep me all liquored up. I’m a much better time.”

  He laughed.

  “Hey, Marcus. What did you think of our kiss? Was it all part of the fake girlfriend act? To really fool those doubters? Or was it for real? And I can only ask you this now because I’m shit-faced.”

  “It just happened. I didn’t plan it. You took my breath away, and it was spontaneous.”

  “But how was the kiss itself?”

  “It was sweet, hot, and very passionate.”

  I smiled. “I thought so too. It was an Oscar-worthy kiss that took lust to a completely new level. I wish I could’ve dragged you up to my bed, because, damn it, yes, it was that was smokin’ hot! And just for the record, when I start drinking, never ask me questions. Because I never hold anything back.”

  His eyes twinkled. “Were you attracted to me the second you met me? Or was it the cash I threw in your face?”

  “I was extremely attracted to you. Part of me wished that everything I told those women was true. When I saw you, I wished it was all real. And when I waited for you to shoot me down…you didn’t. You just went along with it. My gosh, you were a complete stranger. I was in your house, at your party, telling those women I was your girlfriend. And you went along with it.”

  “Did you see the look on their faces?”

  I laughed. “Priceless.”

  “I wasn’t going to let those cougars tear you apart like that.”

  “I appreciate that so much. I had no right to do that.”

  “I’m so glad you did. Or else we would’ve never met.”

  “That’s sweet. You’ve forgiven my deception.”

  “I would’ve done anything for you. And at that party, I wished you really were my girlfriend and that I was really showing you off.”

  “But you don’t believe in girlfriends.”

  “I didn’t. But at that moment, I wished you were all mine, and only mine.”

  “You played the part so well,” I said. “I loved how you came up and kissed me.”

  “That was a nice added touch.”

  “Well played. I guess I’m just lucky Mr. Takahari liked me or you would’ve gotten another girl to play the part.”

  “It was really too late to get another girl. He took an instant liking to you. If I would’ve come with a different girl and claimed it was my girlfriend, he would’ve deemed me a player. So when you announced to everyone that you were my girlfriend…”

  “You were stuck with me. I totally screwed you. I’m sure those women pointed me out, and I was the talk of the party. I’m sure Mr. Takahari knew who I was before you even introduced me.”

  “I like being stuck with you. You’re different from any other girl I’ve ever met.”

  “Gotta love the girl that sprays Mace at ya.”

  He chuckled. “I should’ve called your name out there in the dark so you didn’t think I was a mugger.”

  “That would’ve definitely helped. But I get it now. I now know why you hunted me down. You needed me, and only me. Because I had already announced myself as your girlfriend. In order to save your client, you needed me to look like the woman who had tamed you and settled you down. It would help fix your image problem. Because Mr. Takahari wasn’t going to do business with a playboy any longer.”

  “That about sums it up.”

  “I just wish you would’ve really wanted to date me for real,” I muttered.

  “What?”

  My stomach rumbled. Oh, gosh! Please no!

  “I think I’m going to throw up,” I said. “I can’t make it to the bathroom.”

  The stewardess handed me a plastic bag and I threw up.

  “Okay, you’re okay.” Cool hands stroked back my hair, and a wet cloth was placed on the base of my neck. “You’re okay, sweetie. I think we all saw that coming.”

  “Sweetie? Are you practicing or are we trying to fool the stewardess too?”

  He chuckled.

  With a low groan, I leaned back against the chair. In a flash, the bag vanished and Marcus was sitting across from me, smiling affectionately as he absentmindedly rubbed my knees.

  “You saw that coming?” I quoted weakly.

  “You licked the seatbelt.”

  My face contorted in pathetic anger. “For luck, Marcus. Haven’t you ever heard of licking the seatbelt for luck?”

  “No.” He was making a valiant effort not to laugh. “That’s not real.”

  Too weak to argue, I brought my fingers up to my temples with another groan. My eyes fell on his hands, still rubbing my knees, and the hands instantly disappeared.

  “Here,” he murmured, rummaging around in back of a seat, “take a water.”

  I sipped it silently and cast a wary glance out the window. The towering skyscrapers of the city were quickly vanishing, blanketed beneath a fine layer of clouds. My fingers shook, and I drew in a quiet gasp, offering up a silent prayer for deliverance.

  “Sri Lanka.”

  I pried my eyes away from the window long enough to look at him. “What?”

  “That’s where I got Eduardo. Sri Lanka.”

  “Sri Lanka?”

  “Yes.”

  “You went all the way to Sri Lanka to pick up a peacock?”

  “Eduardo was at my hotel and we kind of bonded. I’d feed him bread and he’d follow me around. When he got attacked by a dog, the vet was going to put the bird down. The staff said the peacock was testy and not worth saving. But I found something special about him. I thought he was very much worth saving. Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?” He looked into my eyes for a moment, and then continued. “I brought him home and saved his
life.”

  I couldn’t help but notice the symbolism. Marcus was beautiful, and so was the bird. All they needed was that second chance. The bird had gotten his. Would Markus get his?

  “Does he like you?” I asked. “Because he hates me.”

  “He loves me. And he’ll love you too.”

  “Do you shop in Sri Lanka?”

  Marcus leaned forward and gave me a winning smile. “Rebecca, there aren’t many things I wouldn’t go to Sri Lanka for. Have you ever been?”

  “Uh…” I glanced distractedly back out the window before returning his gaze. “Let’s assume I haven’t.”

  “Well, they have the most beautiful beaches. And there’s this incredible rock fortress called Sigiriya… We have to go and see it sometime.”

  I shook my head with an exasperated grin. “If Takahari decides to golf from the top of it—I’m there.”

  “I hope so. I’d love to golf there.”

  My eyes narrowed, and I shoved the water into a cupholder. “Really? Well, I like to golf too. I like that it’s just a game, but me and my friends call it a sport. I like that it makes me feel really athletic when I drive from hole to hole sipping mint julips and talking shop. In fact, I even like the little argyle socks I get to wear—they make me look like a Keebler Elf.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our cruising altitude…”

  I looked up in surprise upon hearing the disembodied voice before peering hastily out the window. Sure enough, the plane had evened out, and we were sailing through clear blue skies with hardly a bump—just a gentle hum from the engines.

  When I twisted back forward, I saw Marcus watching me with a little smile. A sudden suspicion dawned on me, and my cheeks flushed pink in the cool air.

  “Was that all just to distract me?”

  He picked up a newspaper with an indifferent shrug. “Anything to keep you from vomiting again…”

  Chapter 20

  The rest of the flight passed surprisingly quickly. I even fell asleep. Marcus and I mostly kept to ourselves, occasionally spouting off a one-liner and grinning over the tops of our respective magazines. The second the plane began to angle lower in the sky, he started up a rousing conversation about pygmy fruit bats, but again, that might have been more for my benefit than his own. Nevertheless, by the time we got to the hotel, I was exhausted. That is…until I saw the hotel.

 

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