Make Me Yours: A BWWM Billionaire Love Story

by Cher Etan

  Dean shrugged. “Okay but I just thought it’d go faster if we helped each other. Jefferson is cool with it if that’s what’s bothering you,”

  “Okay then,” Meaghan said tossing him the first ledger. She was doing her best not to grin like an idiot at the fact that Dean came to hang out with Mr. Henley so he could see her tonight…despite the fact that they would see each other tomorrow.

  “How is your dad doing?” she asked.

  “He’s taking to the robotics really well,” Dean said with a smile. “He’s able to feed himself now and articulate his needs. You can really see how much happier he is.”

  “That is wonderful,” Meaghan said.

  “You should come visit him sometime, I’m sure he’d like to express his gratitude to you personally,” he suggested.

  Meaghan shook her head. “I didn’t do anything but suggest an idea. It was his doctors who did the rest.”

  “Yeah, after you put us in touch with the right ones. Come on Megs, take the credit where the credit is due,” Dean said.

  “The amount of backlash that got me though…I hardly like to think about it,” Meaghan said.

  “That lawsuit was bogus,” Dean scoffed. “There is no way the Medical Board or a court of law could have taken it seriously. And my father’s doctors wouldn’t even have filed if my mother hadn’t been on their asses about it.”

  “Another thing I don’t like to think about…”Meaghan said wryly.

  Dean leaned forward and covered her hand with his. “This too shall pass,” he said with a small smile. Meaghan made a non-committal sound and went back to her books.

  *****

  They were still asleep when Meaghan’s phone went off. They were sleeping in; it was Saturday morning and they were both without commitments for the morning. Meaghan reached sleepily forward groping at the bedside table without opening her eyes. She grasped it and brought it to her ear, making an incoherent grunting sound that the caller could take as he would.

  “Babe, are you coming over here so I can get you ready for the ball or what?” Bain asked.

  “What are you my fairy godmother now?” Meaghan replied grumpily.

  “I thought we’d established that over ten years ago. Now when are you getting here?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Late afternoon probably?” Meaghan said.

  Bain made a dissenting sound, “that’s cutting it pretty fine. We might not be able to work in a full facial with that time frame.”

  “Are there half-facials?” Meaghan wanted to know still with eyes closed.

  “Not for us darling. Make it early afternoon okay? So go have sex with that boyfriend of yours now so you can get away in time,” he replied and hung up.

  Meaghan giggled, dropped her phone on the night stand, swept the covers over her head, turned around and went back to sleep. She could feel Dean curling into himself in front of her and placed her hand gently on his back as she drifted off to sleep again. He leaned into her hand but didn’t wake, snoring away contentedly.

  It was the baked goods delivery guy that woke them finally. Carmen did not come in on Saturdays so there was no-one to get the door but one of them. Dean ignored the doorbell but Meaghan couldn’t. She fished out his house coat and ventured downstairs to answer the door. The delivery guy greeted her familiarly – she was a well-known face by now – and handed her the breakfast basket before taking off. She took it upstairs and put the coffee on, quite at home by this time in his kitchen to not hesitate over using his stuff. She made herself some coffee and then retired to his tiny patio with a muffin and the day’s paper.

  “So boogie of you Leonard,” she murmured to herself as she settled in the wicker chair with her coffee, crossing her legs as she scanned the paper for news. It was the same old, same old as far as she could tell so she turned to the comics section to get her hit of Boondocks and Marmaduke – a much better way to start the day in her opinion than all the bad news and negativity.

  She was just settling down, feet up on the guard rail and about to start in on her coffee when Dean ambled over, kissing her absently on the forehead before going off to get his own cup of coffee.

  “Morning,” he mumbled as he came back, flopped down on the other wicker chair and gestured for her to hand over the sports pages. Dean was not a morning person.

  “G’mornin,” she replied with a small smile.

  “How’d you sleep?” he asked.

  “Like a drunk baby,” she said grinning at him. He smiled back at her, leaned back and drank his coffee as he scanned the pages of the New York Times.

  “How would a drunk baby sleep anyway?” Dean mused. “Wouldn’t they be like, in danger of dying?”

  “Convulsions, drowning in their own vomit, CNS depression – it’s not just babies though…anyone could suffer any of those.” Meaghan informed him.

  “Good to know,” he said with irony standing up to go get another cup. He’d inhaled the first one as if it was a glass of cool water. Dean was like that with coffee. It was his drug of choice.

  “Bain tells me I have to leave here by early afternoon if he’s to turn me into Cinderella in time for the ball,” Meaghan said and Dean grimaced. He always grimaced when Bain was mentioned.

  “He knows that you’re going with me right?” Dean said. Meaghan laughed in resignation.

  “He’s just trying to make me all pretty for you,” Meaghan said.

  “You’re already pretty for me,” Dean protested.

  “Aww, I’d say you’re so sweet if I didn’t know where that compliment was coming from.”

  “What do you mean?” Dean asked.

  “Don’t be obtuse,” Meaghan replied.

  Dean was silent, polishing off his muffin. “I do think you’re going to be the most beautiful thing at this ball. Right now, in this moment, before Bain has laid a hand on you or you’ve put on your finery.”

  “Thank you Dean, you say the nicest things,” Meaghan replied impassively but she was smiling impishly and giving him side long glances as she did so.

  Dean glanced at her as if to gauge her words and then went back to his newspaper. They read in silence for the rest of the meal.

  *****

  It was a full house; Daniel had taken the day off from work, Bain’s phone was off and even Bella was invited for the beauty primping session. Or rather she’d asked to join in. Meaghan wondered why, considering that she had friends who were going to this shindig that she could prepare with.

  “I don’t know, you guys seem like a lot of fun,” she’d said with a shrug when Meaghan asked. Meaghan decided to shrug it off too and take it all in stride. What’s the worst that could happen after all?

  Mei and her colleagues all converged at Bain’s house with every implement known to man or woman to enhance their beauty. They began with full body massages followed by combination facial/mani-pedi. A specialist was brought in for Meaghan’s hair, the Asians not knowing exactly how to style it. After hair was make up and then the beauticians left so that they could prepare their outfits. It was just going on 7pm by then and Meaghan was expecting Dean to pick her up by eight. She wouldn’t have thought it would take the full hour to put on a dress and some shoes but somehow when Dean drew up at the house, she wasn’t ready yet. At least not to Bain’s satisfaction.

  She had selected elegant couture dark purple one shoulder evening dress made from imitated silk with kitted lining and beaded embroidery. She paired with six inch strapless sandals made of pink velvet and a black Chanel handbag. Dean walked into the room and stopped short as if he’d hit an invisible barrier. His mouth opened but nothing came out for several minutes.

  “I stand corrected,” he said looking her up and down. She was checking him out too; his tall elegant form was encased in a black tuxedo which fit him like a glove. His blinding white shirt contrasted nicely with his velvet black bow tie. The result was James Bond in his prime, a glittering Adonis that was blinding to behold.

  “Wow,” Meaghan said
checking him out. “You look…”

  “So do you,” he replied. It was like there was no-one else in the room for a moment.

  Meaghan shook her head as if waking from a doze. “What do you stand corrected about?”

  “That you could possibly look better? Did I say better? Not the right word. But you’re dazzling,” he said.

  Meaghan laughed, “I get it. I clean up pretty good,” she said smugly.

  “That you do,” Dean agreed. He held out his arm to her.

  “Shall we go?” he asked. Meaghan started, she wanted to ask about waiting for Bain and Daniel but she knew what the answer would be so she just hastened forward to take his arm. He smiled at her and then looked up at Bain lounging in the entrance to the hallway. He lifted his hand in salute and actually smiled at him. Meaghan took that as a positive thing and then they left.

  “I thought we’d have dinner first,” Dean said as they were driving. “The food at these events can be a bit dodgy.”

  “Okay,” Meaghan agreed.

  “Can you eat in that dress?” Dean asked.

  Meaghan looked down at herself; sure her dress was defining of her figure, hugging her all the way down to her hips before flaring out in asymmetrical elegance still…it wasn’t like she was wearing a corset or whatever.

  “Why couldn’t I eat?” she ventured.

  Dean shrugged and smiled, eyes on the road. “I love that you even ask that.”

  Meaghan looked at him with a quizzical smile, waiting for an explanation. Dean shrugged again, “Samantha wouldn’t eat like for two days if she had to attend such functions.”

  Meaghan snorted derisively but didn’t say anything. Dean glanced at her, waiting for her to elaborate on the sound she’d made but she just continued to look out the window at the passing scenery. Her hair blew about her face in curling ringlets, and there was a diamond pin in the form of a flower pinned on one side of her hair as if it was a flower.

  “Where’d you get the jewelry?” Inquiring minds wanted to know.

  Meaghan turned away from the window to look at Dean, “I rented it.”

  Dean’s eyebrows quirked and he nodded. “I should have got you some jewelry long ago,” he chided himself.

  “What? Got me jewelry from where?” she asked genuinely puzzled.

  “Oh you know, how when you have a boyfriend he buys you jewelry? Especially if he’s done something wrong, you’ve had a fight, it’s the anniversary of the day you first bumped into each other…that kind of shit?” Dean said.

  Meaghan laughed, “Really?”

  “Really,” Dean replied. “Anyway, I’ve clearly been remiss so I’ll get right on that.”

  Meaghan laughed again shaking her head, “You’re crazy.”

  “You’re crazy,” Dean replied as he turned in at a restaurant. He alighted at the entrance and took her hand. It seemed like the restaurant was expecting them because they were led right to a table in a secluded corner. There was already wine cooling in an ice bucket and rolls in a basket. Meaghan picked one up as the waiter placed menus in their hands.

  “I’ll have the fish,” Meaghan said handing the menu to the waiter. “Fish and potatoes with a side of greens please.”

  “I’ll have the same,” Dean said handing his menu back as well. They studied each other as they waited for the food not saying anything. Dean smiled.

  “Are you nervous?” he asked her.

  “Yes,” Meaghan replied at once.

  Dean laughed. “You’re supposed to protest; you’re supposed to say nah, I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” Dean had made his voice higher and said it in a sing song voice.

  “Have you ever known me to talk like that?” Meaghan asked looking offended.

  Dean looked like he was thinking about it, “Not that I can recall but anyway I wasn’t imitating you I was just…”

  “Making fun of me,” Meaghan finished for him.

  “Right,” he agreed.

  “Okay then so back to the fact that I’m nervous, any wise words for me?” Meaghan asked.

  “Yes. Just remember what a great person you are and walk in there with supreme confidence. The rest will follow.”

  “Wow. Actual wise words,” Meaghan said wryly with an eye roll.

  “I can step up on occasion,” Dean said self-deprecatingly.

  “Good to know.”

  Dean covered her hand with his. “Seriously though, you have nothing to worry about. Everyone will love you.”

  “Everyone who doesn’t already hate my guts you mean,” she qualified.

  “No, I mean everyone,” Dean said.

  “Is your mother going to be in attendance?” Meaghan asked and Dean had the grace to grimace.

  “She might drop in,” he said.

  “And Samantha?” Meaghan asked next, though she tried to avoid saying that name if she could.

  Dean shrugged, “I have no knowledge of Samantha’s schedule so I actually have no idea.”

  “Really? None of your so-called friends have given you the heads up on that?” she pressed.

  “Nope,” Dean said.

  “And you-“

  “Look. Meaghan. We can spend our whole lives worrying about running into Samantha or whatever, or we can just live. I vote for the latter,” Dean interrupted.

  Meaghan smiled and nodded, “You’re probably right,”

  “I am right,” Dean said.

  They finished their dinner and then headed to the museum.

  *****

  Poppy walked into Jeffrey’s room to show him her dress for the ball. It was a yellow confection that on someone else might have looked too young, but on her it fit like it was made for her. Which, of course, it was. She did a slow pirouette so Jeffrey could see her from all angles and he smiled his delight at her. He didn’t have to say he thought she was beautiful; she could see it in his eyes. She took a seat on his bed and leaned into him resting her coiffed head on his and bumping their shoulders together.

  “I don’t know what to do with him Jeff; he’s making this huge mistake and every time I try to help him he pushes me further and further away,” she said to him softly. His hand rose slowly and moved to cover hers.

  “This woman is no good for him, why can’t he see that?” she asked him plaintively.

  “You can’t tell him…what to do” the computer intoned.

  Poppy sighed. “I miss the days when I could,” she moaned and felt Jeffrey shake with laughter. “She’s going to be there you know? Dean is bringing her with him,” she continued quietly. He squeezed her hand.

  “Oh don’t worry, I won’t make a scene. It just hurts my heart to have to be civil to this gold digger person. And that’s what she is you know?” she said sitting up and fixing Jeffrey with a glare. He looked back at her, a wry look in his eye and quirked his brow; much like his son was fond of doing.

  “I need a drink,” Poppy said sitting up and ringing the bell next to the bed. Reeves appeared not long after and she ordered a glass of champagne to be brought to her.

  “Would you like a glass Jeffrey?” she asked him. He smiled at her in amusement and shook his head slightly. He was on several different medications and they did not mix well with alcohol. Still he appreciated the thought. Reeves brought a flute of perfectly chilled Brut for her and she downed it before standing up and smoothing down her dress.

  “Do I look presentable?” she asked him moving her hips from side to side so he could properly see how lovingly the dress draped over her still shapely curves.

  “Beautiful” the computer announced in that robotic tone that stripped the words of their emotion. Nevertheless Poppy could see Jeffrey’s face and that was all she needed to understand every single emotion behind the word.

  “I’ll see you later,” she said softly and swept out of the room. Jeffrey followed her with his eyes and his ears until he couldn’t hear the click clack of her heels descending the stairs anymore.

  *****

  They drew up at the museum
, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright with an architecturally significant spiral rotunda. The driveway was already full of cars and the whole place was gaily lit up. A butler looking individual was waiting at the door to take their coats and usher them into the restaurant that was set up for the function. Another usher was on hand to receive them and lead them to their seats, which were definitely at the VIP table if Meaghan knew anything about such things. A number of older white gentlemen and ladies were sitting at the table already. Dean smiled and greeted them by name, evidently he knew them all, and then turned to introduce her. She took her cue from him and smiled as well, shaking hands and acting like she was used to conversing with people wearing millions in jewelry all the time. Dean told her a bit about every person she was introduced to; hedge fund managers and company CEOs, founders, owners, the odd celebrity as well. Meaghan smiled and smiled while her stomach roiled and the fish she’d eaten sat uneasily in it. Still she found that Dean’s advice was good and acting like she belonged made everyone treat her like she did.

  That was until the formalities were completed, insane amounts of money had been pledged and the floor was open for dancing…

  Chapter 13

  Meaghan was in the powder room, touching up her make up when two blonde heads appeared on either side of her. She looked from one to the other; since she grew up on the street her radar for trouble was in perfect working order. And this? This was trouble.

  They were staring at her in the mirror as they touched up their lipstick, crowding her in a way that was subtle yet uncompromising. The fat lady wiping her hands on the other side of the room left and then there were three.

  “So you seem to have Dean Wesson wrapped around your little finger huh,” Blonde on the Left said.

  Meaghan straightened up. “Who are you?” she asked furrowing her brow in puzzlement like she was trying to place her. Which she wasn’t. She knew she’d never seen them before in her life, but also that they were some of Samantha’s ubiquitous friends.

  “Wrong question,” Blonde on the right said, her eyes shooting lasers at Meaghan if only this was a star wars movie. “The question you should be asking is ‘what is going to happen to me now?’” she continued.