Mr. Lucky: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

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Mr. Lucky: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 6

by Jackson Kane


  I hated that question. What could he possibly do that the police couldn't? “I doubt it. The cops weren't too confident about finding the guy.”

  “I'll ask around,” Veto said, his voice low and clipped as if he was sure he could figure this out for me.

  There was so much I wanted to ask him. What happened to you last night? Why did you disappear? Did the sex mean anything? But no words came out.

  “You're not staying for the wedding?” Veto asked, unrolling his sleeves and buttoning his cuff links.

  “How can I after what I did?”

  “I'm a little rusty on my New York Law,” he said. “But I'm pretty sure the fault of a robbery squarely falls on the man who robbed you. I have been wrong in the past, though.”

  My forehead pressed onto the steering wheel. “I was the one who had them with me. I shouldn't have been anywhere near Times Square.” What the hell was I thinking taking a stroll with something so valuable!

  “They're just rings.”

  Electric disbelief crackled up my spine. I twisted hard, gawking at the man through my window.

  “I didn't lose a few ounces of ringed gold,” I said, trying to keep the bitterness at bay. “What I lost was my friend's trust.”

  “And you're not going to get that back by not attending her wedding.” Veto took his coat from my hood and smoothly put it on in one fluid motion.

  “It's too late for that,” I whispered.

  He took a moment to study me, as if trying to determine something. “I've had both gold and symbols, and I'd have traded them both in a heartbeat for even a chance at a friendship like you have with Zenya.” Veto checked his watch. “The wedding hasn't started yet, but you are running out of time.”

  I sat in silence. The weight of his words pushed me into my seat.

  “Your car should work now,” he said, turning to leave. “You can make the wrong decision if you want.”

  And with that, Veto walked away.

  He'd fixed my car again? Was that why his sleeves were rolled up? It took me a few minutes, but I finally tested my key. Carrie grumbled back to life.

  Veto was part mechanic, part therapist, and part wizard. The more time I spent with him the less I seemed to know about him. It was fucking infuriating. But he did fix my car.

  Damn him. I wanted to hate him and I couldn't. It would make my life so much easier if he hadn't helped me. I wouldn't have to think about him as much.

  Carrie stuttered, then revved higher than normal before settling back into a more comfortable idle. If I turned my car off now it might never start again. This could be my last and only chance to get back home.

  Back to the mundane safety of soul-crushing familiarity.

  “The devil you know...” I sighed, stuffing my cold hands into my jacket pockets. I hung my chin to my chest. “What should I do?”

  Next to me, the maid of honor dress hung like the shed skin of a unicorn. Zenya had picked a pearly color that some would say was too close to the wedding dress white everyone expects.

  But I knew Zenya wasn't wearing white. That crazy girl, she'd shown me photo after photo of the red and black wedding gown she'd had custom made.

  She always did what she wanted.

  That included trusting me... believing in me.

  Filling my lungs, I shut my eyes and thought about what Veto had said. He'd give up everything for a friendship like mine and Zenya's? How could he think he understood us?

  He saw you struggling to make it here, I told myself with rising wonder. He saw you fighting in the rain with your car, he saw you frazzled in the hotel, he saw you willing to share a room with a stranger... he's seen everything.

  Ahead of me, the lot exit glowed brighter than my dress did. It was my exit—my escape from this place.

  I knew what I had to do.

  For potentially the last time, I turned Carrie's engine off.

  Chapter 7

  Calli

  I hesitated in the entrance of the Martel Hotel bridal room, trying to force myself through the door's threshold. The room was a swirling, voluminous, purple and white beehive of anxious, mostly-dressed bridesmaids rushing around to have their hair and makeup finished by the team of hotel beauticians. Jennifer was, of course, already finished, and was giving orders to both the staff and the rest of the bridesmaids.

  In the eye of the bridal party whirlwind, doing her eye shadow, was their beautiful queen. Zenya wore a stunning, crimson satin Cinderella-style dress with a large black bow on her lower back and pleated taffeta running down the length of her six-foot train.

  Z was going to leave the whole ceremony speechless when she walked in. In the mirror, she looked calm and collected. Everyone knew that she thrived in the spotlight. But I could see the little tells.

  She was nervous.

  A staff member excused herself passed me to deliver a tray of sparkling wine and orange juice. The frantic din of conversation lulled long enough for Jennifer to lead a toast followed by cheers. It was the laughter that stung the most, I think.

  It didn't matter that I wasn't in there; Z was just as happy either way.

  Get over yourself and talk to her! I swallowed the ever-present depression that always seemed to nip at my heels and walked in.

  Zenya saw me in the mirror right away and asked for the room.

  “There's no time for that, dear,” Jennifer declared dismissively. “The wedding is in—”

  “The wedding is whenever I say it is, dear.” Zenya stood up and made it clear that Jennifer wasn't in charge. A hush fell over the room as everyone waited. “The room. Please.”

  Jennifer replied with a stunned look.

  Being a partner in a prestigious law firm, she wasn't used to people putting her in her place. Finally, she bowed her head and acquiesced. Jennifer's lip curled as she brushed by me on the way out. If I didn't know any better, I'd think she was impressed by Z's defiance. The rest of the group quickly walked out behind her.

  “Hey,” I said, tentatively walking in.

  “Hi,” Zenya replied.

  After a protracted silence, we simultaneously started talking over each other, then both stopped. She raised a hand curtly and let me go first.

  “I just want to say I'm sorry about the rings. I shouldn't have had them on me. It was careless and stupid and I know how important they were—” My ramblings choked to a stop in my throat when my eyes started to water. I took an extra moment to breathe so I could finish the rest of my apology without bawling my eyes out.

  “Calli.” She turned and grabbed a small black box. When she opened it, two gold rings caught the late afternoon sun from a nearby window and shined brilliantly.

  I rubbed my wet eyes, not sure if I was imagining things. “I don't understand. Are those new rings?”

  “No.” Zenya's warm smile widened, splitting her face with joy. “They found them!”

  “What?” That’s insane. The police told me, 'don't hold your breath', which sounded more like 'we're not even going to bother looking'. “How?”

  “Clint's boss, if you can believe it.” Zenya shook her head. It looked like she was still trying to wrap her head around it as well. “Somehow, he found out about what happened and got a few of the businesses in Times Square to turn over their security feeds to the police. They quickly identified the guy and arrested him.”

  “That's incredible! I'm so happy to hear that.” A massive weight lifted off my chest. I didn't feel like I was drowning anymore.

  “Wait. Clint's boss?” My face screwed up in disbelief. “Wasn't that the guy that you didn't like?”

  “It's not that I don't like him.” Zenya fiddled with her hands in her pleats. “He's just super flaky and self-centered.”

  “Weird that he'd step in and help like that.”

  “Tell me about it.” Zenya blew air out and shook her head. “I don't know. Something changed with him recently.”

  “How do you mean?” I didn't know him, but I remembered hearing a few stories at ou
r lunch. The guy sounded like a real piece-of-work.

  “Apparently he went to his first charity event like ever last night. Some ten-thousand-dollar a plate affair. I guess he's a philanthropist now.” Zenya shrugged. “I honestly didn't think he had it in him.”

  That event sounded a lot like the flier I was handed. If I'd been able to go I'd have actually met the elusive billionaire, Mr. Goldlock. I hoped I'd see him at the wedding more out of curiosity than anything else. That, and I wanted to thank him for finding the rings.

  But right now, I had other things to focus on. “Hey, Z. Listen, about everything that's happened...”

  “Calli...” She lifted her hands like she planned to cut me off.

  “I need to get this out. Please,” I said quickly. Reluctantly, Z nodded. “I understand if you don't want me around. I'm not as interesting or wealthy as your new friends. I don't 'jet set' or 'vacay' or whatever people do. I can’t really measure up. You're my best friend and I don't feel like I belong in your world any more. If you were a series of books, I feel like I’m only in this one volume and new chapters are being written without me.”

  That was a super nerdy analogy, but I could see that she understood it. I forced myself to continue. If I stopped now I'd never have the courage to finish.

  “You're about to get married to a wonderful guy. You have a good job in my favorite building, in my favorite city. It's just, everything worked out so well for you. Is it possible to be insanely happy for you and hideously jealous?” I chuckled darkly, then sheepishly whispered, “You got the life I always dreamed of.”

  That sounds incredibly selfish, huh? I don't mean to unload on you during the most important day of your life.”

  Zenya took my hands and shook her head. “I know you feel like you missed out on some grand adventure, but what you didn't see was how tough things were for such a long time. Do you know why I left in the first place?”

  “No. I don't think you ever gave me a reason. You just said you needed to go.” I figured she wanted to get away like I did. Zenya was crazy and impulsive. Back then, she just did things. She was fearless.

  “I was addicted to pills.” Zenya's eyes flicked down.

  “What?” I said the word like a horse stomped it out of my chest. “Pills pills? Like drugs?”

  Zenya nodded, dragging her eyes back up to meet mine. There was shame behind her beautiful thick lashes.

  “Why didn't you tell me? I would've helped you!” How did I not see that back then? I knew she liked to party and experiment, but I never thought...

  “I couldn't face it myself, let alone tell anyone else. I was scared. I was worried that if I said anything, people wouldn't see me anymore. All they'd see was just another fucked up, Roslington junkie. I thought the only way to kick the addiction was to run away, just be somewhere else. Get away from my dealers and the routine. Y'know?”

  Zenya sighed heavily, weighed down by the pain of reliving old hard times. “When I got to New York it wasn't even a week before I fell into the same habits I was trying to escape.”

  The thought of her alone in a massive city, struggling like that put my heart in a vise. I started to softly cry for my friend. I hated myself for not seeing the signs. How could I have been so selfish and shortsighted?

  “Clint changed all that,” Zenya said, her face brightening. She sniffled, trying not to cry and ruin her makeup. “Clint showed me that change had nothing to do with what city you're in; change started in your mind and ended in your heart. All you had to do was want it bad enough and everything else followed.

  “I don't want you to have my life, Calli.” Zenya offered a crooked smile. “I want you to love your own life. Sometimes that means looking at what you already have from a different angle. And sometimes that means chasing what you want most in the world wherever that might lead.”

  Veto... Through all the painful empathy pangs for Zenya, his name rose sharply in my mind.

  “I'm so sorry.” I wiped my eyes and hugged her tightly.

  “Don't be,” she said, openly crying now. “Eventually we carved out a little corner for ourselves and I'm really happy now.”

  “Clint is an amazing guy, you're really lucky.”

  “I know.” Her mouth softened at the corners. “Don't be jealous of me. You'll find your own Mr. Lucky someday.”

  Again, Veto popped into my mind. Pushing the images away, I scrubbed at my nose and sniffled. “If there's anything you ever need from me, you'd better let me know, or I'll—I'll kick your ass!” It was such an empty threat, but I needed a way to stop from crying.

  “You can do something for me,” she said, blotting at her eyes.

  “Anything. Name it!” I replied excitedly.

  “While I un-fuck my make-up, you can put on your damn dress already.”

  * * * * *

  After a quick trip to the police department to collect my stolen belongings I raced back to the wedding. And for once, I wasn’t late! Out of breath, worried and excited, but not late!

  I joined the bridal party with a smile of small victory.

  When the ceremony started it was one of Clint's cousins that walked me down the aisle. The boy was seventeen. He was nice, a little nervous, and he tried to make small talk. I barely noticed, though; I was too busy scanning the audience for Veto.

  Please be here. Please be here.

  I had no idea what I was going to say to him. All I knew was that we desperately needed to talk.

  The ceremony started and Zenya floated down the aisle. She was stunning. All eyes fell on her.

  I stole glances across the crowd until I found him. Veto leaned against the wall in the back of the large hall. In his perfectly-tailored navy suit, he easily gave the groom a run for his money for best dressed. It was then that I realized not everyone was looking at Zenya.

  Being out here in my gorgeous dove-colored, one-shoulder, maid of honor gown made me feel incredible, but that was nothing compared to how Veto's icy blue orbs boosted me. They froze me in place.

  Veto didn't even notice Zenya, he was staring only at me.

  As the ceremony went on my errant glances drew me back again and again to Veto; each time, his unwavering stare ruined me. I bit back my smile and tried to focus on the bride and groom.

  Zenya and Clint read their vows, were pronounced man and wife, and kissed. They beamed with love so unabashedly, it was like they were the only two people in the packed chapel room.

  Finally knowing how hard her journey was filled me to the brim with happiness. I was no longer weighed down by my conflicting emotions. I only had one: Pride. Well, two, if you counted how hard I was trying to keep myself from blubbering with joy.

  I was so incredibly proud of Zenya and made a silent promise to her to be a better friend from now on.

  Before I knew it, we were all walking back down the aisle. Veto must've just ducked out because I didn't see him anywhere. That's fine; I was attached to the bridal party for pictures anyways. I'd have to wait to talk to him at the reception.

  A grueling hour passed before we made it into the party room. All I could think about was what I was going to say to Veto and how I was going to say it. For a while it was a continued blur of introductions, formalities, and traditions on both Clint's and Zenya's side of the family.

  For as anxious as I was to talk to Veto, the celebration put me in a great mood. Knowing that Zenya was blanketed by love and support made me warm all over. I was happier than I'd been in such a long time. And my dark cloud of depression evaporated when I thought about maybe dancing with Veto.

  Clint clinked his champagne flute with a knife and the crowd quieted for his toast. He thanked everyone for coming, then went on to proclaim his love to Zenya, who beamed brighter than all the lights in the room. His speech was touching and personal and had Zenya tearing up by the end. She always loved grand displays of affection.

  As a fiercely introverted person, I was the complete opposite, but I understood their appeal. I loved intimate
exchanges between star-crossed lovers. Again, I thought of Veto. Where is he?

  Clint turned to lovingly gaze at his wife and ended his speech by reading her their ring's inscription in Latin. Then he kissed her passionately and the whole room erupted in cheers.

  My heart leapt for her.

  Clint held up his hand afterward for one last sentiment. He scanned the room, but didn't find who he was looking for. He shrugged and continued anyway. “As some of you know, there was a mishap with our wedding bands earlier, and although it doesn't look like he's still here, I would still like to thank my boss for helping us recover them.” Clint held up his glass, then in a booming voice said, “To Mr. Goldlock. A good man… And an alright boss.” Clint paused for laughter, then finished. “Here’s to you, Vetorian.”

  Chapter 8

  Calli

  I barely stopped myself from spitting out my drink.

  Vetorian?

  Veto didn't just work with Clint, he owned the whole damn company! He was the infamous billionaire everyone had been talking about... the name plastered all over the city.

  Vetorian Goldlock.

  And he'd never told me.

  “Z, I have to go.” My voice was nearly frantic.

  “Are you crazy? The party just started,” Zenya scoffed, not taking me seriously.

  “Clint’s boss, Veto…” My face screwed up in an exaggerated, embarrassed grimace. I didn’t have time to be bashful anymore. “He was the one I hooked up with yesterday.”

  Her eyes widened so much I thought her fake lashes would fly off. “You’re joking.”

  My mouth was a slightly downturned white slash across my serious face.

  “I don’t even know what happened.” I was still trying to figure it all out myself. “He moved in next door, and ever since, we keep running into each other and it... it just spiraled and…”

  “Wait a sec. Moved next door? Veto’s your neighbor? He disappeared to Roslington?” Zenya’s head snapped back like she was slapped in the face with a foul smell. “On purpose?”

  “Yeah I—I don’t know.” I shook my head. “These past few days have been insane. But yeah… I think I might maybe sorta really like him.”

 

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