Billionaire Triplets Matchmakers

by Mia Caldwell

  He still looked like a homeless man with his torn jeans, scuffed shoes and tattered overcoat. Hopefully they wouldn’t try to stop him from going inside. He ran his fingers through his hair, then shook it out. He straightened his back and shoulders and jutted out his chin. He smiled confidently, as he strutted through the main doors. He was going for the wealthy playboy look, the rich boy slumming it at a local casino.

  The guards didn’t give him a second look.

  Just walking into the casino gave him the familiar rush. He tamped it down – he wasn’t there to gamble unless he had to.

  He was there to find Vince and get his money back.

  He worked his way through the casino until he spotted the roulette tables. Sure enough, Vince was there, smiling broadly as he stood near the wheel at the American table. A crowd of onlookers stood around him, cheering him on. From the size of the stack of chips in front of him, Vince was doing well. Antonio tried to calculate the value of the chips. It had to be at least thirty thousand dollars, Antonio’s total winnings from the night before.

  “No, you don’t! Stop, that’s my money!” Antonio shouted, watching in horror as Vince pushed all his chips onto the table, placing them on Red.

  Vince looked up and squeaked in fear but it was too late. The dealer had spun the wheel.

  Antonio started towards Vince, seeing nothing but red himself. Vince was looking right and left for somewhere to run as Antonio got closer, but he also had an eye on the spinning wheel, waiting to see how his bet would pan out.

  The wheel slowed, the ball popped, and everyone around the table froze as they watched the ball come to rest.

  It landed on black.

  Vince groaned and cursed. Antonio let out a cry of anger and tried to hurl himself at Vince, hands out, reaching for his skinny little neck even as the man tried to make a run for it.

  Something incredibly painful zapped him between his shoulder blades and he fell like a rock onto the dirty floor.

  Electricity ran through his body, and Antonio knew he’d been tasered.

  Just before he passed out, he saw Vince running away, lugging the duffle bag. It still seemed full of money, but Antonio didn’t have a chance to be confused for long before the lights and sound of the casino faded into black.

  WHEN JOAN SHOWED UP at the hotel spa she was hoping that the treatments and the time spent on herself would help her forget about her relapse, her skill at falling for just the wrong guy, and how she’d cope with facing her sister the next day.

  She’d gone to her bank to get out the cash she’d need to make her sister’s account whole, but she didn’t have enough. Now she was not only going to have to face her sister and explain about her relapse, she was also going to have to explain how she lost a thousand dollars.

  Since her sister already knew about Antonio she’d have to explain what happened with him as well.

  It was all too much.

  As soon as she came in she was sent to the locker room to strip out her street clothes and put on one the spa robes.

  Since they had razors and other items available, and she had been told her masseuse wouldn’t be ready for another twenty minutes, Joan took the opportunity to shave her legs.

  Smooth and feeling much better, she took a quick shower and put on her robe before wandering into the room where other patrons were seated in comfortable chairs, awaiting their services. Joan helped herself to some cucumber water and a strawberry, then

  sat back, and closed her eyes, trying to forget her troubles and just relax.

  “Joan Edwards?” said a soft, modulated voice.

  A large woman in a pink spa uniform ushered her into a room with two massage tables. Joan felt a little uncomfortable about that, but since there was no one else on the other massage table she decided not to make a deal out of it.

  When the woman stepped out for a moment Joan took off her robe and got onto the massage table, covering herself with the thin blanket. With her face poking through an open padded head holder, she breathed and tried to relax her tense muscles.

  “Are you decent?” asked the masseuse.

  “Yes,” Joan said, calling towards the door.

  “Good, then the other guest is coming in.”

  “What?” Joan said.

  “Hey, I didn’t request a couple’s massage,” said the new voice, one Joan recognized.

  “Lissa?” she said, propping herself up so she could look behind her.

  “Joan? What the heck?”

  “Lissa, I’m so sorry about everything, I didn’t know.”

  “Mother,” Lissa and Joan said at the same time.

  They both started laughing.

  “Close your eyes while I ditch this robe and get under my sheets, will you?” Lissa said. “And stop laughing, I’m still super mad at you.”

  Joan calmed, but her heart sang just a little bit. Her sister still loved her, and obviously her mother loved her as well because her mother had arranged for the two of them to have some alone time together, where they could heal.

  During the massage, neither sister spoke. Their issues were not for anyone to hear. The next treatment, however, was far more conducive to conversation. The Majestic hotel was famous for their spa and they’d recently installed mud rooms - something that Joan had always wanted to try. The two of them had a suite with two tubs and as their bodies, already relaxed from the excellent massage, dipped into the dark mud the feeling of relaxation and peace spread through each of them. Joan was the first to open the conversation.

  “I just want you to know that I’m so very sorry about what happened. That I got drunk.”

  “I don’t want to hear that you’re sorry, Joan, I want to understand why the hell you did it,” Lissa said.

  “I uh, I don’t know.”

  “It was Antonio, wasn’t it? Mother insists he didn’t hurt you, but why else would you throw away all that sobriety? He did something to you, didn’t he?”

  Joan thought about Antonio and how he’d probably been responsible for stealing her money - no, her sister’s money - even though she couldn’t believe that he would do that to her. She’d seen with her own eyes that he had a gambling problem, but she felt an urge to protect him. If she was wrong about him, and she threw him under the bus, could she ever forgive herself?

  “He kind of did,” she said, realizing that she had to tell her sister some of the story.

  “I knew it. That bastard. Did he rape you? Oh, honey, please tell me he didn’t rape you.”

  “Oh, no, he didn’t do that. He’d never do anything like that.... Please, oh, God, Lissa, please don’t think that.”

  “Then how? How did he hurt you? What has he done to make you screw up like that?”

  Lissa was getting a little hysterical. One of the staff came in.

  “Everything all right in here?” she asked, in perfect English.

  “We’re fine. Can you bring us some more water, please?” Joan asked to get rid of the woman.

  Lissa had calmed down.

  “I’m sorry, I never should have said that. Just tell me what’s going on?”

  Joan sighed. What was the point of trying to come up with excuses for Antonio? This was her sister. If she couldn’t tell Lissa the truth about just about everything, then who could she talk to?

  She told her sister, the whole story, starting what had happened in Milan all up to the passionate and wonderful night that had ended so suddenly and unexpectedly.

  By that point, Lissa was starting to warm to Antonio. She made almost complimentary comments about him when Joan described how well he’d helped her to calm down after her difficult reunion with her allegedly deceased mother.

  Joan didn’t give her sister any of the specific details, but neither did she hide the fact that the two of them had made love all night. Lissa was her sister, but there were some secrets that were meant only for two lovers. Lissa seemed perfectly fine with just a rough overview on that front.

  The positive thoughts about Jo
an’s former lover coming back into her life, turned negative when Joan told her about Vince’s midnight break in.

  “The guy insisted on using the bathroom, and Antonio pulled me out and had me dress. He told me to sit on the bed while his friend used the bathroom and I hadn’t realized that my purse was still in there. But, then Antonio told me he needed to talk to his friend in the lobby and he’d be right back – only he didn’t come back. I went to the bathroom and noticed my purse had been moved. And when I realized that all the money had been stolen. I assumed that it was his friend. I went to the lobby to tell Antonio about it, but the night clerk said Antonio and the little man had left in his Maserati. I felt so upset, I didn’t know what to do. And that’s when I went to the Grand,” Joan said as she finished her sad tale.

  “Oh Joan, honey, you poor thing. If it’s any consolation, I totally forgive you.”

  “Thanks, Lissa, but there are no excuses for what I did. And I can’t blame Antonio. I think I was already heading in that direction and that little incident just put me over the edge.”

  There was silence as Lissa absorbed those words. The spa worker came in and delivered new bottles of water.

  When she left, Joan said. “Look, I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while that I’m not happy being a nanny anymore. I wanted to quit - in fact, I was going to tell you the other day, when we took Hunter to the tailor shop. That feels like forever ago.”

  “You what?”

  “It’s not that I don’t love being a nanny, it’s just that I don’t want to be doing it for the rest of my life. I’m concerned about the boys too, I mean, if I’m with them until they’re four or five imagine how much harder it will be for them when I suddenly disappear from their lives then. And it’s not just that. I want to do something that gives me a sense that I’m successful again. Look at you - about to be married, co-CEO of a major company, well respected, stylish... I could go on.”

  “Joan, you used to be a fricking super model. I’d never be able to do that.”

  “That’s just it, sis, I used to be!”

  “Oh, I see what you mean.”

  “And it’s not just that, I’m also lonely. I mean, until I saw Antonio I’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel wanted by a man.”

  “Joan,” Lissa said sympathetically. “I thought you had a fling with Julio’s friend, what was his name?”

  “Fernando, and no we never did anything other than make out a few times. He just didn’t do anything for me, so I never let it go any further.”

  “You?” Lissa said, with disbelief.

  “Yeah, me. I know, the slutty one... I said no to a meaningless romance.”

  They both laughed.

  “But, Antonio... man, I thought he was the real deal. I still don’t know why he left me.”

  “He came to the house looking for you, you heard that, right? So, maybe it isn’t what you think.”

  “I know, and I saw him again just a few hours ago.”

  “Oh, really? How did that go? Did he explain himself?”

  “I didn’t actually talk to him.”

  “What?”

  “I just saw him, but we didn’t speak.”

  “Joan, what’s going on? Where did you see him?”

  “I can’t tell you,” Joan said.

  Lissa pulled herself out of the tub, and the thick mud dripped down her breasts. “Joan, if you can’t be honest with me then I’m not sure I can have you back, even for a few weeks.”

  “Alright, I’ll tell you what I can.”

  “I’m waiting.”

  “Anthony was in a meeting for Gamblers Anonymous. But you can’t tell anyone, not even Julio. Do you swear?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, think about it. Antonio is a sports figure. If the press got wind that he’s also a problem gambler it could play havoc with his career – it could ruin him.”

  “I still think I should be able to tell Julio. He’d never tell the press, family is everything to him. He’s the one that has been lobbying me to give his godson a break.”

  “Okay, you can tell Julio if you feel you must. But you have to make him promise that it goes no further.”

  “I will.”

  After the day at the spa, Joan was ready to resume her duties as the nanny and stay on for as long as it took to find a suitable replacement.

  Lissa called Julio while Joan was still getting her hair done, and told her that Julio would be joining them for dinner away from the Torres house, where they could talk privately about how to help Antonio.

  “You didn’t tell him anything specific yet, did you?”

  “No, I was vague. To tell you the truth he seemed distracted by something, so he probably wouldn’t have heard me even if I had let something slip. But, I didn’t. Don’t worry. Anyhow, tell your hairdresser to wrap this up, we need to go. Julio’s sending his driver out to fetch us, and we need to be out on the curb in thirty minutes.”

  The driver was a little late, which was good, because it gave Joan time to call the room and leave a message for her mother.

  ’Mom, thanks again for the wonderful spa day, Lissa and I enjoyed it very much. I hope your date with the policeman went well. I’ll be going out for dinner with Lissa and Julio, but I’ll be back before midnight to make sure you’re ready for your nanny duties starting at eight sharp tomorrow morning.’

  Things were going to be all right, she hoped.

  Chapter Twelve

  ANTONIO WOKE UP SUDDENLY, gasping. He tried to open his eyes, but couldn’t. Was he blindfolded?

  He winced as his fingertips touched his bruised and battered face. His eyes weren’t covered with a blindfold – they were swollen shut.

  He stopped trying to force his eyes opened as his heart raced in his chest.

  Where am I? What’s happened to me?

  He tried to relax, taking a deep breath. He felt around with both hands. He was on his back on a hard surface, a road or street, not dirt. He reached out from his body on both sides and flinched as first one hand and then another bumped against something hard. A wall? A cold wall? Metal? His heart skidded.

  Am I trapped in a metal box? A coffin? Have I been buried alive?

  He reached up with both hands cautiously, not wanting to bang his hands on the ceiling, but even as he stretched his arms out fully he felt nothing but air and a slowly falling mist.

  Mist?

  Antonio forced his least swollen eye open, and let out a cry of relief as he saw the beam of a searchlight sweep through the sky. He hadn’t been locked in some container or buried alive. He was outside, at night, in a quiet, and secluded part of the city.

  He needed to get a better look. He bit back a scream of pain as he forced himself to roll over, but he eventually managed to get on his hands and knees. He made an effort to stand, but it was too much. He could see better already. He was between two dumpsters in what looked like an alley behind a large building.

  To his left, he saw a closed receiving bay and a short flight of stairs to a door. There was a dim light above the door, casting long, sinister shadows onto the wet pavement.

  Antonio thought about getting up, going to the door, and seeing if he could get help, but then the door opened and a man stepped onto the stoop, descending the stairs. Antonio drew back, his heart thumping with fear. Was the man coming back to finish the job?

  He peered around the corner of the dumpster and got a better look at the man. He was too frail and old looking to be responsible for his current condition. He was carrying an overfilled bag of trash, and coming right for him.

  Just a janitor or a maintenance man of some kind.

  Even if this man hadn’t been involved in his beating, he probably worked for the men who did.

  Antonio drew back as the man came closer, and pressing his body against the dumpster and holding his breath, hoping he wouldn’t be noticed. The metal lid squeaked as the man with the trash lifted it up. the bag of trash thudded into the dumpster and the h
eavy metal lid clanged shut.

  Footsteps receded without hesitation, climbed up the steps, then the door closed and Antonio knew he needed to go.

  Biting down an urge to cry out from the pain he staggered to his feet, holding onto the dumpster for support. He worked his way to the wall and stumbled towards the side of the building. He wanted to get out of the alley, back to civilization where other people might help him if his attackers came back.

  The pain was too much. As soon as he rounded the end of the building and turned the corner he had to stop and catch his breath. He could already see a road, people, and cars driving by. He could hear voices and music. Suddenly he knew where he was.

  The casino.

  It all came back to him – in a dizzying rush—the thugs in his hotel, the missing money, the chase in the stairwell, finding Vince, watching him put all his winnings on red, watching helplessly as the ball landed on black and the casino swept away his money.

  Then what? How had he gotten here, beaten up and tossed out like yesterday’s trash?

  He remembered the blind rage, leaping towards Vince and the shock of being tazed. Casino security had stopped him. Then what?

  Beaten him to a pulp while he was unconscious?

  Indignation shot through Antonio.

  He should call the police.

  He should prosecute.

  He should sue them!

  He slumped to the ground. The casino had exacted their punishment for his misbehavior, but the Italians weren’t done with him. He hung his head.

  He’d done this all to himself. He’d gambled away all his money like a fool. He owed money that he didn’t have, and yet he still gambled. What was wrong with him?

  He had to find a way to stop gambling before it killed him, or got him killed.

  He tasted salt on his tongue and realized he was crying.

  His mouth began to move and he realized he was praying. “Please, God. Get me out of this. Help me, and I swear, I’ll never gamble again...”

  A glimmer of hope stirred in his chest, as if God had responded.