The Billionaire Dating Game: A Romance Novel

by Aubrey Dark

  “You want to mainline your chocolate pudding? Junkie.”

  “Absolutely. Give me another spoon of that.”

  “Nah, this spoonful is for me.”

  “You jerk!”

  “It’s the pudding tax. One for you, one for me. Or do I have to teach you about sharing, too?”

  Emma grinned, her bottom lip smeared with chocolate. We ate the pudding spoon by spoon. In the background, Arlen’s monitor emitted a steady whir. Every once in a while, something would beep softly.

  “So what is all this?” I asked, gesturing with the spoon.

  “They had her under anesthetic for the spinal tap,” Emma said. She looked down and brushed a lock of Arlen’s hair away from her face. “So they hooked her up to all these machines for the procedure.”

  “Did the doctors find anything else out?”

  “They got some of the blood tests back, so they know what kind of cells are in there. And they’re going to start chemo first thing tomorrow.”

  Emma’s lip quivered, and she bit down on it, looking away.

  I put down the empty pudding cup and reached out to her for a sideways hug.

  “It’ll be alright,” I said, not knowing how. “Arlen’s a strong kid.”

  “I don’t know… I don’t know why this happened.”

  “Me either,” I said helplessly. “There’s no reason.”

  “I just think… if there was something I had done earlier. If I had pushed for another doctor to see her the first time she was sick—”

  “You didn’t know. None of us did. Not even the doctors.”

  A slow tear made its way down Emma’s cheek. I wiped it away with a tissue.

  “It’s no use,” Emma said. “I’ve cried so much my cheeks are going to prune anyway.”

  She looked up at me.

  “How did Mom handle it all by herself?”

  I sat back in the chair. We didn’t talk much about Mom anymore. Emma had gotten into a fight with her about Joey when they’d started dating. My mom had told her that all men were trouble, and had forbidden her from seeing him. Of course, that only made Emma more desperate to prove her wrong. And when she’d gotten pregnant while still in high school, the fallout was vicious. By that time, I was in college and couldn’t be the peacekeeper anymore at home. Emma and Mom were at each other’s throats.

  Emma had moved in with Joey the week she turned eighteen. A month later, Mom died of a heart attack. And four months after that, Emma had Arlen—and Joey disappeared. It had taken almost a year to find him and get the lawyers to make him pay child support.

  “She did the best she could,” I said finally. “Just like we’re doing.”

  We’ll be her parents. That’s what I’d said. Only, it was harder to be a parent than I thought. My lips pressed together.

  “I’m sorry,” Emma said.

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry for—”

  “Yes, I do. You shouldn’t have to deal with any of this. If it hadn’t been for me getting knocked up, you would have finished college.”

  “Don’t—hey. Hey.”

  She was sniffling, her hand pressed up against her mouth to make the sobs come out quietly. Arlen wiggled on her lap.

  “Emma, don’t blame yourself for any of it. I decided to drop out, okay? And I’ll go back to school eventually, anyway.” I considered telling her that it might be sooner rather than later. Now that I’d quit my job at Moi, I didn’t know what I was going to do.

  “I’ve just made so many mistakes.”

  “You made one mistake, and his name was Joey.”

  She smiled at that through her tears.

  “And you were a kid,” I continued. “Everybody makes mistakes, especially kids.”

  “But I wasn’t the one who paid for it. You had to deal with all of my mistakes. It’s all my fault.”

  “No, it’s not. And no matter what mistakes you made, look at us. We have Arlen and she’s wonderful. And I wouldn’t give the two of you up for anything.”

  She looked up at me, her eyes red with tears, her face still young and beautiful under all the hurt.

  “Lisa, you’re the only family we have. I don’t deserve you.”

  My face went hot.

  “Em, I have to tell you something.”

  “Hmm?”

  “I couldn’t—the doctor said we might have to pay for special treatments, and I couldn’t get the money.” The words splashed out of me in a torrent of guilt. “I asked my boss, but he wouldn’t give me any advance pay, and I went back to the show but it wasn’t—I didn’t win, Em. I got kicked off. And there’s not enough money saved up, and I’ll try to get a loan but I don’t—I don’t—”

  “Shhh. Shhh.” Emma wiggled her fingers from under Arlen, and I reached out to hold her hand. Tears streamed down my cheeks as she gave my hand a squeeze.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry. I tried—”

  “Shhh. Lisa.” Emma raised her eyebrows at me. “Lisa. Hey, lamebutt. Listen to me.”

  I bit my lip hard. My heartbeat was pounding in my ears.

  “Lisa, you don’t have to do everything. You can’t protect us from everything.”

  “But—”

  “You’re doing the best you can. Aren’t you?”

  I looked down at my little sister in the hospital bed, her sick baby on her lap. And here she was, holding my hand and comforting me.

  I nodded, my head bowed, and held back my tears. Inside my mind, though, I couldn’t stop the thought whirling around in my head since I arrived at the hospital:

  What if my best isn’t enough?

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Another day passed in the hospital. Between going out on pudding runs and visiting Mac, I was busy every minute of the day.

  We were still waiting to see if Arlen needed the special treatments. I couldn’t afford them yet, but I applied for every loan I could online. I set up a donation website, and throughout the day Emma watched as donations trickled in. It wasn’t looking great, but it was something.

  I stopped by the community college and applied for classes to start immediately. Not that I was going back to college, but I thought that I might get approved for some student loans. I didn’t know if it would work, but I was going to try anything that could possibly have a chance. I even texted Piers, begging him to call me. But after the way he’d left me, I wasn’t expecting anything. I was the same as all the other girls that flirted with him, only I was after his fortune rather than his fame. How stupid.

  I’d fallen asleep in the chair outside the hospital room that evening, my laptop on my knees.

  “Lisa?”

  “Lisa, wake up.”

  “Yo. Lisa.”

  I opened my eyes. There was a face inches away from mine.

  “Ah!” I yelped, jumping backwards in the chair. My laptop fell from my lap, and Dylan caught it.

  “Dylan?”

  It was Dylan. Wide-eyed and staring down at me, an expectant expression on his face.

  “Wha—what are you doing here?”

  “Come with me and I’ll tell you,” he said.

  I glanced back at the hospital room.

  “I don’t—what do you want, Dylan?”

  “Trust me,” he said. “You’ll want to see this.”

  I gripped the sides of my seat as Dylan wheeled around a corner, the engine of his Ferrari zooming.

  “Piers told me about what happened with your niece.”

  “He—he told you?”

  “He sent me the video of your last interview. I had no idea, Lisa! I’m sorry I went after you like that. I bet you didn’t even want to kiss me.”

  Dylan sighed, and I saw the same expression that he’d had before, when talking with me about his fame.

  “Dylan, it’s not like that. I mean, I was starting to like you—I wouldn’t have let you kiss me if I didn’t like you. I think you’re a wonderful, funny guy.”

  “Really?” Dylan grinned, a shy blush
coming onto his cheeks. The guy was adorable, I’d give him that. Even if he wasn’t my cup of tea, he would make a great boyfriend to someone.

  “But it’s true, that’s not why I came on the show,” I said, more seriously. “I wanted to win so that I could get the money. It should be me apologizing to you.”

  Dylan shrugged.

  “Piers told me that’s what would happen. He didn’t think I’d find anyone worth dating on the show. I kind of did it as a favor to him.”

  “A favor?”

  “Yeah, well, he helped me out when I first came to New York and started working on my dad’s business. I kind of went crazy with spending money. At first, that is.”

  I blinked. Apparently he didn’t think Ferraris and fighter jets were being crazy with money. I wondered what he thought was crazy.

  “And I was dating all these different girls at once, and it was like, none of them even cared. Or, they said they didn’t care. And I was going out to clubs and getting drunk and hooking up with anyone I thought was cute. I mean, I thought that’s what you did when you were rich.”

  He frowned, his fingers gripping the wheel.

  “And I was getting bad, like, blackout drunk. When I met Piers out at a red carpet event thing, I thought it was so awesome that all these hot girls would fall over themselves trying to get our attention. Like, famous girls, singers and models and shit. I bought them all drinks, and Piers came over to my table. I was such a big shot, right, like freaking Piers Letocci coming over to my table!”

  His eyes glowed, and I realized that he must think of Piers as a role model. I chuckled lightly. Piers as a role model? God forbid.

  “He asked me—I remember, because I was getting way too drunk and flirting with all the girls—he asked me what I was trying to accomplish. I didn’t know what he meant.”

  Dylan bit his lip, staring out the windshield intently.

  “He said, None of these girls really care about you. And I started to argue with him, like, because they were all trying to get with me. But he just looked at me, and he said, They want the money. They want the suit. They want the fame. But they don’t give a shit about you. Don’t waste your life on people who don’t care about you.”

  Dylan looked over at me, as though to see if I was going to laugh at him. I waited for him to continue.

  “And I asked him how I could find a girl that really cared about me. I was joking, right, because I was drunk and I didn’t really know what he was talking about. And he told me that the only way would be if the girl didn’t know who I was. Stay inside. Don’t get famous, he said. Because if they know your face, it’s already over. You’ll never find anyone who will truly love you.”

  I swallowed hard, remembering the first night I’d met Piers. The man in the mask. I’d wondered why he had hidden his face. I’d wondered why he was so reluctant to show me.

  And I remembered the shock in his face when I hadn’t recognized who he was.

  “So it hit me that if someone like Piers Letocci says that, I oughta listen. Because I always thought that I wanted to be like him.”

  We pulled up to the curb outside of a building that said Marquis Theater.

  “This is it,” Dylan said, hopping out of the car. He opened my door for me and I stepped out, trying to make sense of what he had told me.

  “Why did you agree to do this show, then?” I asked, as we walked up the steps to the theater. “Why did he even ask you to come on TV?”

  Dylan flushed.

  “Well, he needed a billionaire. And I’m going to go over to London soon to open up a new branch of the company. Piers said that nobody watches his stuff in England.”

  I stopped at the side of the building. The sign above our heads said Main Stage Entrance.

  “Wait, what? He’s British, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah, well, I guess they think American TV is stupid. And lots of people there see him as a sellout. Anyway, his ratings are awful over there.”

  “Huh.”

  “So I thought, why not?”

  “Why not.”

  “Why not,” Dylan agreed. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” I said, as he opened the side entrance door for me. “What’s up?”

  “It’s about Kate.”

  I looked over at Dylan, raising one eyebrow.

  “Is she in it for the money?”

  “Oh, Dylan—”

  “Because you said in the interview that all the girls were here for the money. And the only one I really had a thing for was Kate. But I don’t want to get my hopes up, you know, in case…” He trailed off.

  “I don’t know for sure,” I said, hesitant to say anything that might turn out badly for him. I hoped that Kate wouldn’t choose the money over him, but I wasn’t sure. “She’s pretty crazy for you. That’s what she told me.”

  “Awesome!” Dylan grinned broadly.

  We walked through a dark hallway. A murmur of voices grew louder and louder as we headed down the hall. Stage technicians dressed in black hurried around us.

  “Where are you taking me, anyway?” I asked.

  “It’s a surprise,” Dylan said. “Piers planned it all out.”

  “A surprise?”

  The hallway opened up, and I realized we were in the back of a large stage. Dark black curtains hung down in parallel drapes, and wires snaked across the floor. The voices I’d been hearing were now a loud hubbub. As we walked to the edge of the stage, I could glimpse the audience, a thousand dim faces past the edge of the stage.

  I knitted my brows together. I had way too much to deal with right now to think of anything besides Arlen and Emma. But something in my heart nudged me forward. If there was any chance…

  “Hey. I’ll talk to you later,” Dylan said, pushing me down in a chair just off the side of the stage. “You stay right here, okay? Piers doesn’t know I brought you here.”

  “He doesn’t know?”

  “Shh. It’s going to start!”

  Dylan bounded onto the stage. I peered around the edge of the curtain. Kate and Mia were both sitting at the other end of the stage, and Piers was standing in front of a microphone, doing a sound check. The audience erupted into cheers when Dylan raised his hand and waved to them.

  “Well, look who decided to waltz in at the last minute,” Piers said. “It’s Dylan Chase!”

  The screams of the audience rose to a deafening roar.

  “Alright, looks like we’re ready to start,” Piers said. I recognized the smooth voice of his stage persona. “Are you ready, Dylan?”

  “Sure thing!” Dylan pumped his fist in the air. “Let’s get this show started!”

  “Welcome to the last and final competition for The Billionaire Dating Game,” Piers said. “We’re so glad that you all could join us, and I hope you’ve all been following along at home. If you have, you’ll know that these are the last two competitors in the show. First: Mia Firenze, the beautiful model who rocked our last photoshoot!”

  Mia stood up and waved. A cheer went up from the front row of the audience.

  “And Kate Penrose, the waitress who charmed Dylan with a Batman-inspired dress in a previous contest!”

  I might have been biased, but there was no denying it: the cheers for Kate were more than twice as loud as the ones for Mia. I clapped loudly and let out a wolf whistle. Piers turned to the side to see where the noise had come from, his dark eyebrow arched. I pulled the curtain in front of me, ducking away from his sight. When I looked back around, he was back at the microphone with Dylan next to him.

  “For our last episode, we’re doing a live taping,” Piers said. “And this episode is all about what it means to be a billionaire.”

  “Part of being a billionaire is charity,” Dylan said. “As Spiderman might say, With great power comes great responsibility. And that includes the power of money.”

  “Lisa Forrester was eliminated from the competition in the last round,” Piers chimed in. “And in the elimination interview,
she admitted the real reason she had joined The Billionaire Dating Game.”

  My tearful face came up on the screen behind the stage.

  “My sister’s kid—Piers, she’s sick. She has cancer. I need money to pay for her treatments.”

  I pressed my hands to my face in shock. What were they doing, showing this?

  “Having money isn’t all about using it to buy fancy cars,” Dylan said. “Although fancy cars are pretty awesome. What’s more awesome, though, is being able to help people.”

  No.

  It couldn’t be.

  Was it?

  “Tonight,” Piers chimed in, “we’re going to be doing a fundraiser drive to cover the medical costs for Lisa Forrester’s niece Arlen, who has just been diagnosed with leukemia.”

  The crowd hushed, and a sob rose in my throat. This was what Piers had planned?

  I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to jump up and scream. I wanted to run on stage and give him a hug. But I sat frozen, completely in shock.

  “Reality TV isn’t always important,” Piers said, and he had dropped the glib persona. He was speaking as a real person, as the person I knew and loved. “Sometimes it’s meaningless.”

  He paused, looking out into the audience.

  “But not tonight. If you’re out there watching, stay tuned. Because right now, we’re going to make The Billionaire Dating Game something much more than just a reality TV show.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Kate and Mia will be taking turns up here on stage to ask our viewers to donate, and we’ll track the donations as they come in. Any extra will be donated to cancer research in Arlen’s name.”

  My hands held my head tightly, as though if I let go I might explode outward. As Mia stepped up to the front of the stage and began to speak, I couldn’t help but look at Piers standing calmly next to Dylan, his hands clasped loosely in front of him.

  “…and so I want to start off by saying that any donation you send in right now will be matched one hundred percent by an anonymous donor I recruited to help us with this charity,” Mia was saying. “So call or text and make a donation to Love for Arlen - your gift will be doubled if you call in right now!”