That’s when I noticed that the last website he’d been looking at was enticing me from the laptop screen. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek just in case he had been looking at porn or something else that his newly minted fiancée should know about. I glanced at the screen as if I was being casual. It was a brokerage website.
Okay. Dom wasn’t looking at porn websites after I went to bed last night. He was just checking his investment portfolio. It didn’t matter that I didn’t even know he had an investment portfolio. It wasn’t exactly my business anyhow.
I squinted at the screen. The total amount of assets caught my eye, and I had to count the zeroes to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. I had no idea how much money Dom was worth, and I didn’t really care. I hadn’t fallen in love with him for his money or his rock star status, but this was a game changer. “Ten billion dollars?” I counted the zeroes again in disbelief. “Ten billion dollars,” I said again softly.
“Ten billion dollars,” Dom’s voice boomed from the doorway. “And I didn’t even ask you to sign a pre-nuptial agreement.” His arms were crossed over his chest, and he looked annoyed. “If you wanted to know about my finances, you could have just asked. You didn’t have to stoop to this.”
“I didn’t stoop to anything,” I protested. “All I wanted to do was make you pancakes, but your stupid computer was in the way.” I was fuming. Everything was ruined. Dom was leaving for Europe tomorrow, and we were fighting over something that I never would have seen if I hadn’t accidentally woken up his computer while I tried to make enough room to cook him breakfast. “Don’t blame me for this.”
“Who exactly should I blame?” he asked. “Are you happy now?”
“Do I look flipping happy?” Somewhere in the back of my mind I recognized that I should be pleased. I wasn’t just marrying a rock star. I was marrying a billionaire. “How did you get so much money anyhow? You’re the first billionaire rock star I’ve ever heard of.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” he said. “At least I know you didn’t bother to look me up on Google.” He pulled the computer towards himself and tapped a few keys. “You agreed to become my wife. Do you even know my real name? Or did you think you were going to become Mrs. Dominic Angelchance?”
I pulled out a chair at the table and sat down hard. “That’s not your real name?” I was shocked. He was right. I didn’t know anything about him. I didn’t know he was a billionaire, and I didn’t know his real name. All I knew was that he had asked me to marry him just weeks after we met, and I had said yet. What a stupid move.
He placed the computer down in front of me. It was open to a Wikipedia page with his name on it. “Dominic Angelchance,” I read out loud, “née Donald Angelo Chance.” I looked at him accusingly. “Your name isn’t even Dominic?”
“Nope,” he said. “My name isn’t even Dominic. It’s a stage name. Nearly every single girl at any one of my concerts could have told you that. It’s even in my autobiography.”
“Could they have also told me that you’re a secret billionaire?” I asked.
“It’s not a secret. Keep reading.” He pulled out a chair and sat across from me.
I read the rest of the page silently to myself, feeling warmer with every sentence that I read. Dom, or Donald, was the son of a fabulously wealthy investment banker who had taught his two sons everything he knew about the business, handed them each a hearty chunk of his fortune and commanded them to multiply it. While Donald and his brother Lucas were equally successful, Donald had turned his back on Wall Street to follow his dream of becoming a rock star. I closed my eyes and tried to digest what I had just read. Donald was Dominic. My Dominic.
“This isn’t the 1980s,” Dom said. “You don’t have to put on a suit and show up at the office to make money anymore. That’s one way, but it’s not the only way. Thanks to the magic of the Internet, I can buy and sell, and wheel and deal from wherever I am in the world. Since I’m not into the party scene, I spend much of my spare time while I’m on the road making trades and making money.”
“That’s what you called your ‘hobby’?” I asked.
He nodded. “That’s what I called my hobby. Music is my life. The money is just a hobby.”
I stomped my foot on the floor. “Don’t you think that you should have shared that information with me instead of keeping it a secret?”
“I already told you,” Dom said. “There’s nothing even remotely secret about it. Here.” He pounded on the laptop keys, bringing up a website listing the estimated net worth of various celebrities. His picture scowled from the page. It was a photo taken at one of his concerts, and he looked pissed. “Don’t pay attention to the picture. It was taken at the concert before we met.”
“You look furious.”
“I was furious,” he said. “It was right after I had to storm into Sweets for the Sweet and tell your sister that I wouldn’t be needing her wedding cake.”
“Yeah, she said you threw a stack of hundred dollar bills at her and told her to eat it herself.”
“It wasn’t personal. You’d be angry, too.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “I’d be angry, too, if a groupie I used for a one-night stand went bonkers and started planning a wedding.” The conversation wasn’t doing anything for my mood, and I decided to bring things back on track. “I don’t want to talk about your past liaisons.”
“No,” he said. “You want to talk about my secret fortune.” He used the trackpad to scroll past his photograph on the page. “Look,” he said. “Even the Internet got it right.” There beside his picture and his name were the words “Dominic Angelchance. Celebrity net worth: $10 billion.”
I looked up at him. “How was I supposed to know? Was I supposed to Google you?”
“Why not?” he asked. “Every other girl has.”
“I’m not every other girl,” I said, pouting.
“That’s what I keep on trying to tell you.” He quickly moved to me and enveloped me in his big arms. “When I met you, it was love at first sight. In fact, I think I fell in love with you before I met you. I was performing onstage, looking out into a crowd of faces that fell into two categories. Everybody either wanted to fuck me or be me, and you looked like you didn’t care about either.”
“I didn’t,” I replied. “That didn’t last long though. Once we started talking backstage, I knew that I definitely wanted to be you.” I laughed at my own joke, but I grew serious fast. “Even though we haven’t known each other for very long, I’m still disappointed that you didn’t tell me about the money.”
“What you’re telling me is that you’re upset that I’m richer than you thought. Am I hearing you correctly? Most girls would be clapping their hands with glee.”
“When you put it that way, it sounds pretty stupid.” I wrenched myself from his grasp, but I instantly missed the feeling of his heat on my skin.
“It is stupid,” he agreed. “I thought you were better than all the other girls. Now I see you’re just as preoccupied with stupid shit as everybody else.” He stormed from the room.
Within a minute, I watched him stomp back through the kitchen and out the front door. I followed him and called out after him. “Where do you think you’re going?” I shouted.
“Don’t make a scene, Jenny. You know damn well where I’m going. I’m going to Europe. The tour isn’t going to wait while you decide whether I’m too rich for your taste.”
I ran after him barefoot. “You don’t leave until tomorrow,” I said. Tears were already forming in my eyes.
He turned around. “Just make sure you lock the door when you leave. It’s a rental.”
Dom’s limo slid up to the sidewalk, and Roscoe stepped out of the driver’s seat, opening the back door.
My rock star fiancé climbed inside and shut the door before Roscoe had a chance. The window rolled down soundlessly. “We can talk when I get back,” he said. The window rolled back into place before I opened my mouth to respond.
/> When the limousine pulled away from the street, I knew I had missed my chance.
Chapter Twenty-One
Dominic had been gone for nearly six months. He sent me a postcard from every city he visited on tour with Angelchance. He sent me flowers. He sent me packages with Russian nesting dolls, hand-carved wooden clogs, French perfume and delicate beaded necklaces. One week after he left, he’d even had a brand new car delivered to my house. The only thing he didn’t do was call me.
I had taken to helping Beth out at the bakery against my will. Since I hadn’t found a steady job, and I was in no position to go on job interviews with my expanding pregnant belly, I learned to appreciate the smell of bread baking first thing in the morning and the art of frosting cupcakes to look like roses.
It was the loneliest time of my life.
“Tell me again,” Beth said. “I still don’t understand. You and Dom got into a fight before he left for Europe because you were angry he was a billionaire?”
I smacked a ball of dough with the palm of my hand. Eventually it would become a batch of chocolate chip cookies. For now, it was uncooked perfection.
“Don’t even think about it,” Beth warned when she saw the way I was gazing at the raw dough. “Pregnant women aren’t allowed to eat uncooked chocolate chip cookie dough.”
“It isn’t fair,” I said. “For the first time in my life, I’m allowed to eat as much as I want, and I can’t eat what I want.”
“No raw dough,” Beth said firmly. “It’s not good for the baby.”
I smiled at her protective nature. “Elizabeth,” I said. “It’s not good for Elizabeth.”
Beth nearly dropped her rolling pin. “You decided to name her after me?” She started to cry.
“I seriously hope those are tears of joy, Beth.”
“There shouldn’t be any other kind,” she replied. “Definitely no chocolate chip cookie dough for baby Elizabeth. You can have a cookie as soon as they’re done.”
“It’s a deal,” I said. “Baby Elizabeth will be happy. Do you think she can taste cookies in there?”
Beth shook her head. “I’m pretty sure she can’t, but that’s okay. She’ll probably just be happy that you’re happy.”
I tried to smile bravely, but I failed. “What if I’m not happy?” I asked. I formed the cookie dough into equally sized balls and placed them on a greased cookie sheet.
“How can you say that?” Beth asked. “Of course you’ll be happy. When is Dom coming back?” It was a question that she had obviously been holding back for a long, long time.
“Valentine’s Day,” I said. “Dom’s supposed to come back on Valentine’s Day.”
“That’s so romantic,” Beth sighed.
I didn’t know why she insisted on acting as though everything was okay. Before Dom left, we had gotten into the dumbest fight in the world. I had no way of knowing whether he would even bother to come back to me once the tour was open.
As I placed clumps of cookie dough on the greased pan, I thought about all the women who had probably been throwing themselves at Dom over the past six months. From the pictures his tour manager had posted on Instagram, he was still as gorgeous as I remembered him.
I knew that the European girls would be just as excited by the thought of him as I was. It didn’t matter whether he was in Italy, France, Germany, Spain, Portugal, Sweden, England or Ireland. There were pretty girls everywhere, and Dom had a reputation for loving pretty girls.
If there was one thing that gave me hope other than the constant flow of postcards and gifts sent from overseas, it was the fact that in every picture posted online he was alone.
“When is Lucas coming to pick up these boxes?” I gestured at the boxes of cupcakes that filled up nearly all our available counter space. I feel like the walls are closing in.
Beth blushed. “He should be here any minute. The men and women at the shelter really look forward to cupcake day. There are a lot of kids there, too. You’d be surprised.”
I shook my head. “No, I wouldn’t be surprised. I’d be heartbroken. I don’t know how you handle it.”
“How could I say no?” Beth had taken to accompanying Lucas on his weekly trips to the shelter. They handed out essentials like toothpaste and toilet paper before breaking out the cupcakes, muffins and cookies. According to Beth, the men and women they met were nothing but grateful, and everyone had a story to tell.
“I said no,” I replied. They had asked me to go with them several times, but they gave up once I became so large that I wouldn’t fit in the back of Lucas’s limo with all the cupcakes.
“Well, I have to admit that I said yes because I wanted to spend more time with Lucas, but now I really enjoy it. Helping people is rewarding.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I said. “Right now, I can use all the help I can get myself.” I patted my extended tummy, leaving a doughy smear on the fabric of my maternity top.
“When little Elizabeth comes, I’d love to bring her with me to meet some of the folks. Everybody knows how much I’m looking forward to becoming an aunt.” She lowered her voice. “Especially since I’ll never become a mother myself."
“Beth, don’t say that. I already told you there are options. Just think. When you decide to become a mother, it will really be your decision. It won’t be a surprise like Elizabeth here.” I rubbed my stomach, fondly thinking about the little girl nestled inside. Then I picked up the cookie sheet with its cargo of chocolate chip cookie dough and popped it into the oven.
“I know,” Beth said uncertainly. She wiped her tears on her apron. “I know.”
We were interrupted by the sound of chimes. Someone had entered the lobby of the bakery from the street.
“Maybe it’s Lucas.” Beth’s face lit up. “Will you be okay alone while I go to the shelter with him?”
“Yes. I knew you would ask. I’ve been trying to think of an excuse to get out of staying alone, but I ran out of time.”
I wasn’t really joking, but Beth laughed like it was funny. She scampered into the front of the bakery, and I followed her.
There was Lucas, looking just as handsome as ever. The similarity to my Dominic hurt my heart.
“Hello, Jenny,” he said. “How are you feeling?” Genuine concern shone in his eyes.
“I’m hanging in there,” I said. “Hey, have you heard from Dom by any chance?” I asked him the same question every time I saw him.
“No. He doesn’t usually call me from the road. I did get a couple of nice postcards from Europe.” He walked behind the counter and into the back room to start carrying out the boxes of pastry, followed closely by Beth.
I thought the two of them would make a cute couple if they stopped smiling at each other long enough to shove their tongues down each other’s throats. When they emerged from the back room, laden with boxes of cupcakes, I was holding onto the glass counter for support.
“Are you okay?” Lucas asked.
“I’m fine.” I waved them off. “It’s not easy having another human being living inside you. Sometimes she squeezes the air of my lungs, and I swear she loves to kick my bladder just for sport.”
“Do you want me to stay?” Beth asked.
“No. No. I’m fine. I promise.” I forced myself to stand up straight for their benefit. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
“Keep an eye on those cookies,” Beth warned. “I don’t want them to get burned.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I watched them leave, wondering when they would realize that they were perfect for one another. Holding my belly, I looked down at my baby bump. “Stop causing trouble, Elizabeth. You’re not due for another month.” Something felt wrong.
Breaking into a sweat, I made my way toward the back room. I just wanted to sit down, take deep breaths and get past the strange cramping that was swirling in my stomach. This can’t be happening. Everything’s fine. Just a few more steps.
Before I made it that far, I felt a hot gush of liquid. �
��My water broke,” I said to the empty room. “My water broke.” I pressed my thighs together as if that would keep the baby from coming a month early. No. No. No.
I clung desperately to the edge of the display case. “It’s not time yet. Do you hear me, Elizabeth? You can’t do this to me.”
With shaking hands, I picked up the bakery landline. Thankfully it was close by. I dialed 911. The call was answered within seconds.
“What’s your emergency?” a toneless voice on the other end of the line asked.
“My water broke.” I panted. “I think the baby is coming.” As my contractions began grower closer together, I felt like I was going to pass out. The edges of my field of vision turned black.
“Is there anyone with you who can take the phone and help deliver the baby if necessary?” the operator asked.
“No,” I wailed. “I’m all alone.” The phone slipped from my hands and broke into pieces on the bakery floor. “No,” I shouted. “No. No. No. I want Dom.” I tried to bend over to retrieve the pieces of the broken phone, but I couldn’t. “Ow. Ow. Ow.”
In the distance, I heard the wail of an ambulance siren. Thank goodness the 911 operator was able to get my location before I dropped the phone because I hadn’t even had the chance to give it to her. Modern technology saves the day, I thought.
I knew it wouldn’t be long before Beth returned from delivering cupcakes to the homeless shelter, but I didn’t have that much time. This baby was waiting for nothing and no one.
As another surge of pain washed over me, I sank to the floor. There was nothing I could do except wait for the paramedics to arrive. Alone and afraid, I started to cry.
Thank goodness it was only a matter of minutes before several men in uniforms and bearing a stretcher hurried into the bakery. “What’s the emergency?” one of them asked, setting a medical bag on the countertop.
Rock Me: A Billionaire Romance (Billionaires, Brides and Babies Book 1) Page 12