Hunted by Billionaires Box Set
Page 21
Is what we’re doing here right?
Christy grows quiet.
Stephanie smiles.
“When I left, I didn’t tell my parents where I had gone. And so, months after my wedding, I came to Newport and told them.”
“You what?” chokes Christy.
I just stare.
“Dad was furious. Mom just cried. Whatever they said to each other in private, I will never know, but even to me, their reaction was not good.”
We fall silent, knowing how tight the strings are between us.
She clears her throat.
“It took them exactly 62 days before they contacted me. They called and asked to see my husbands. Just that. Nothing more.”
“What did you do?” asks Christy, intrigued.
“I let them.”
She pauses.
Gingerly she focuses on her plate. Then she looks up from her meal.
“It was brief. Dad likes them. Mom has her reservations. My sister, I’m not so sure. Maybe they told her I was volunteering overseas or something. But my family knows. I’m assuming your Grandma does, too?”
Touché.
Though I get the gist that her quesiton comes from a point of concern.
Stephanie’s eyes glance over from Christy to me, waiting for an answer.
I go first.
“When Chris left home, we both backslid for a bit,” I admit. “I kind of withered up in depression; I lost that spark I was known for. But it was probably a fake spark all along, so now I see that it was a good thing to lose. Gran went back to smoking and drinking.”
Christy is appalled.
“But then, after some time, she opened up. She’s okay now,” I lie, hastening to smooth over Christy’s anxiety. “At least, I think she is. I left. We haven’t spoken since.”
“It would be a great idea for you three to have a talk,” says Stephanie, the food on her wooden plate almost completely eaten. “She did raise you. She deserves to know, right?”
“She does,” I answer. “But is it the right thing to do? I mean, I could always send her—”
“No. You have to do this right,” Stephanie insists, and I have to admit I agree.
The memory of the letter still pinches deep.
“But she’ll be so mad I’m with three men,” Christy protests. “Three! I swear she won’t look past that fact.”
“You would be surprised,” I say. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
Christy chortles and sips down some wine.
“You are. And I was afraid you could never leave your little fake cocoon you liked to wrap yourself in, in order to free your true inner self. Yet here you are, indeed. Everything changes.”
That stings, but she’s right. It’s exactly how I was.
“It does change. I was once a goody two shoes, pining and hoping of a reward for being pious.” I pause. “I realize that I may be wrong in my thinking. I may be right, but is there really a need to pass up assured pleasure on earth for assumed pleasure after I’m gone? Hardly.”
I stop to wash the salad down with some wine.
“Christy, I am so sorry.”
“What for?” she honestly asks.
“For being a bitch and throwing you under the bus with Gran all these years to make myself look better. For caring about others’ approval and forgoing our happiness. I should have been better.”
“I think you are better.”
“Maybe. I’ll keep at it.”
“I know.”
“And maybe Gran will see your happiness before her moral complexities if you give her the chance.”
She pauses.
“Maybe.”
I hold her hand from across the table.
“Forgive me, sis?”
Christy smiles warmer than I have ever seen her, at me.
“You’re forgiven. I will consider going to Grandma. It would be great if she was also happy for me.”
We hold still for what feels like an eternity but is really only seconds. I feel that something good and true has just happened, but we’ll only know how it all plays out in the future when it actually does.
“Alright, enough of the wimpy sister talk,” says Stephanie, rising.
We all laugh because it’s true.
This was definitely wimpy sister talk hour.
“I’m going to the bathroom to take a shower. And when I get back, I want to hear more party talk and less family or love talk. We haven’t seen each other in a while and it’s fun girl time now. Not sappy family time or romantic love time. You hear?”
She doesn’t wait for an answer. But I’m in agreement with her plan and I’m sure that Christy is, too.
But as she rounds off the corner, I’m compelled to use the moment. Christy and I may never be alone again for quite some time.
I squeeze her hand in mine.
She looks back at me, visibly confused.
Then I open my mouth and let the words— and the feelings— that I’ve been bottling up in there come tumbling out.
“I need to tell you something.”
Chapter 11
Matt
The gentle strokes of my palm calm the beast. The brown soft hair falls gently upon my wrist as I comb through her smooth frame.
She moves her head and nudges my chin with it. Appreciation. I smile back and nuzzle into her silky black skin. Her wide eyes turn to me, watching me as I take care of her. Annabelle is my favorite amongst the mares in my stables, and she neighs in agreement.
It is a sunny Monday, the first that I’ve seen in quite a while. Winter approaches, and here in Mayfair County all that’s left to do in such times is ready the horses and tighten the hay bags. It will be a long one, I reckon. There are a few clicks on my side.
Chandler, my number one at the track three years ago, hoofs at the wooden barrier, perhaps to grab my attention. I smile and lean over to pat him on the bridged nose. He huffs and calms.
“So, I say we go big. I’m gonna take her hot air ballooning with a tea tray and a picnic basket,” Chad is saying, on the video screen through which I’m conferencing with the guys.
He always has the brightest, if not the most brazen, ideas known to man. Maybe it’s why he’s got a bigger bank account. He holds a BLT the size of two fists in his wide hands and licks at the dripping chicken patty juice trickling innocently down his wrist.
From this distance I can tell he’s been busy. There is an easel in his backdrop, covered up by thick canvas. His elbows have scrubs of yellow and blue paint. He smiles and raises his brow.
“I can’t imagine the cold up there, man. Can you?”
I can’t help but feel a tad jealous of that idea. Imagine the kiss with the peaky rays of the sun warming her cheeks, her hands on my chest, with my fingers sliding lower and slower with each passing brush of the lip—
“I might book the Eiffel Tower for a night and a half and have dinner there,” offers Dick.
He stands a good distance away from his camera. He’s in his office. The tools hang high up on the wall, and an almost orange but closely yellow light adorns his weekly-sometimes-monthly creations. Wooden stacks of faceless but soon-to-be mannequins and cowboys and horses and skyscrapers and plane models and tables and stools and chairs and beds linger heavily in his backdrop.
He is in a tee, a tie by his shoulder right above his bicep— tight. In his hands is his next creation. But he hides it just under the screen, so it looks like he’s getting his rocks off. By now I’m used to this. He has his own way of telling us things.
“Now that’s a proper idea,” says Chad.
He turns to me.
“Or does His Majesty think the crown not worthy of His man’s taking?”
Cheeky. I laugh it off.
“I’m just saying, guys. Amy is not your regular kind of girl. She’s not your ex-wife,” I point to Dick, “and she’s not one of the many girls either Chad or I have had.”
Granted, I may be more inclined to varied sorts of women, more than Chad’s pa
late can handle, but times, they are a-changing. It’s just something in the wind. I can feel it. Now that I’ve been with Amy, there’s no one else that could even come close.
“We can do so much better than our college years. So much better.”
“He’s right,” says Dick.
A glitch forms on the screen right where his brow is.
He pauses.
“There’s just something different about her. Maybe it’s the way we share her?”
“Which, by the way, is no inflection or reflection of how I feel about you guys,” says Chad, hurriedly.
“Um, do you have a problem with the way we do it?” I ask cheekily.
Annabelle neighs and snorts at my head. She must smell my hormone spike. Chad nervously shifts and bites more of his sandwich.
“Oh, come on, Chad. It’s not like we fuck each other!”
“Well, we really don’t.”
Dick sands his creation smoother now, watching his screen’s inhabitants’ every poise and move. “Chad, you’ve got something to say?”
He swallows and grabs a PowerAde that he had off screen, and takes a swig. Then he sighs and clears his throat.
“No.”
“Good. ‘Cause you had me worried you were having feelings for me,” I jest.
Chad waves me off weakly.
Dick scoffs.
“I mean, we are each attracted to Amy, right?” asks Dick.
“Very,” says Chad.
“Much,” I agree.
“And we can’t stop thinking about her?”
“No.”
“No.”
“And she is unlike any other girl either of us has ever fucked?”
“Definitely.”
“Of course.”
Dick pauses.
I take a moment to breathe his words in.
I have had enough pussy in my life to know there is always more to a woman than her body. At the right moment, when her orgasm bathes her through just right, she bares her soul to you. She opens up more than a church girl on Sunday confessions, and right there.
There.
Where the storms crash and the world stops.
There is where her secret lies.
I saw this in Amy.
The secret.
I tasted it firsthand.
And right when I thought I conquered, she turned the tables, and conquered me.
“Then let’s pursue her with a little more gusto, eh?” says Dick with a laugh. “Come on, guys, I know you’re bluffing. Where do you really want to take her, Matt? Be real. Tell us. Maybe we’ll blindside y—”
The screen swaps faces to the side, leaving a space just right enough in the bottom corner for a personal chat. My heart skips. I am suddenly aware of my toes.
Amy’s calling.
Better yet, she’s calling me.
I swipe the screen, mute the chat with the boys, and ready a smile I’ve been practicing just for her.
“Hey, you,” she says wickedly.
Her face rests upon the most ornate neck. A thin, golden, simple band wraps around her neck close to where her collarbone slightly reveals itself. At its center is a red stone, a sapphire, to commemorate her birthday month. I can’t help but blush like a school boy, something I’m not used to doing.
I sent it to her a week ago.
“Hey, Amy. Where are you? Everything alright?”
I think I sound okay. I think.
“At Christy’s. Is that Annabelle I see in the corner? Hey girl!” she squeaks cutely at my horse, who notices her voice and nods in what I can only assume to be joy.
I take the time to watch her on the screen as she makes faces at her recent online friend. She and I have been spending quite a few hours talking via video conference.
Today, she’s in a purple turtleneck. It’s simple and casual, leading down to waist-high black jeans that hug her torso tight. A cute belt wraps around her waist, thin and matte black.
On her wrist is a very nicely beaded bracelet emblazoned with her name all around in glittery diamond-like flakes. Her hair is tied up in a ponytail, with the few bangs left solely at the right side of her temple moving softly to the swishes of her head.
Noticing this, she settles down and tucks them in a curl behind her soft ear, brushing her cheek with thumb and fingers as she stares tastefully at me.
I can feel my bones.
She is breathtaking, even through the screen.
“So, the reason I’m calling you,” she emphasizes on the last bit, “is to ask to talk to the guys. All of you,” she stresses.
Huh.
My belly lurches.
I don’t know why.
“Good news. They’re all here. Let me link you in.”
I swipe and push a few widgets. Then I un-mute them.
“You had us worried, Matt,” says Dick. “You looked like you had a seizure or some— Amy! Hey!”
“Hey Amy!” says Chad.
I notice he has no sandwich in his hand. He is, however, wiping at the corner of his mouth with his tongue.
“Hey guys, I’ve missed you lots,” she says.
“Same here, love,” says Dick, speaking for all of us.
I almost see the figurine in his hands before he catches himself.
“I have some news,” she excitedly says.
She bites her lower lip mildly and then plays with her bracelet.
“Okay,” I say with an urging tone.
What could this be that’s got her so worked up?
She usually only calls in when it’s time for us to have some dirty talk.
She smiles and moves her head up.
“I want to go on a date with all three of you. At once.”
Ah.
Hence the awkward switching in her seat.
“I can’t choose just one of you, honestly,” she goes on. “I like you each equally. Why don’t we all go out together and just see what happens?”
“Yes.”
They all look at my corner.
Is it that strange for me to announce first of the horde that I want this?
I think not.
It was just so good to hear from her that I forgot it is a Monday, or that Chad and Dick had a go at her before me. I realize that fact still churns my gears.
The fact still remains that I won. I won her hand. And I’ll still win her back, slow but sure, one way or the other, I will win her.
“Yeah?” she asks.
“Of course!”
“Definitely. I’d love to,” says Dick.
“Then I have the best place we can all go to,” I hurry to say, before anyone else can steal my thunder. I’d already been thinking about taking Amy there, and now’s my chance. “It’s a restaurant I bought some years back. They have the best pasta and beef you’ll ever have. I’m sure you’ll love the wine too. It’s hand-pressed and local.”
I can see Dick’s cheek wobble at my suggestion.
Chad smiles.
Amy nods her head and approves.
Both my guys are miffed that she took the first suggestion and is running with it.
I feel nothing but Amy’s warmth. Annabelle’s, too.
“I’m fine with the multi-date guys, but as long as it’s on my terms,” I say.
“And why is that?” asks Dick.
“Because I called him first,” Amy pipes up.
It throws any kind of argument Chad had out the window.
Amy beams at her response and tilts her head to the side. “Tomorrow at the airstrip at 9?”
“You don’t want us to pick you up?” Chad’s change of heart is amusing.
Amy giggles.
“Not really. I want to see who gets creative enough. Ciao, my loves!”
She swipes at her screen and ends the call, just like that.
“Creative enough for what?” retorts Dick.
His hands are bare now. He put his project down when Amy said she called me first. I noticed.
“Maybe she wants more
gifts?” asks Chad, innocently.
“Nah. I don’t think that’s it. She was wearing my bracelet,” says Dick, with a hint of satisfaction.
Oh.
“And she had my Cashmere turtleneck on,” says Chad.
Wow.
“Well, she had my sapphire necklace on,” I rush in to point out. “Did you all know that—?”
“Yes, Matt. September is her birthday month.” Dick nods his head up and down lazily.
“It’s common knowledge,” says Chad. “She did say she loves us equally. I think wearing our gifts is enough to show us that that’s true.”
Indeed it is. Annabelle huffs off and takes a trot round her stable. I turn my full attention to the laptop on the side of the horseshoe table. And here I thought I was special.
“Where’s the restaurant?” asks Dick while in deep thought.
“Panama.”
“Third world resorts don’t come off as fancy, brother,” says Chad, meaning it to be a put-down.
But I just laugh and shrug.
She wants something creative?
She has no idea what’s coming.
“Wait till you see it,” I say, as I move a finger to the bottom of the screen. “See you guys at 8.”
They nod.
I can sense reluctance at my calling the shots.
I smile and log off.
Well, she did call me first.
Chapter 12
Amy
The text from Matt said to carry enough summer dresses and at least one winter jacket.
I’ll take care of the shoes. Come in slippers.
That got my attention.
I was up by 4 and in the limo by 6. I guess one could say I didn’t catch any sleep last night. Netflix was top of the list, and I binged a few short mini-series before 1 a.m. It was 2:35 a.m. when I finally caught some sleep on the couch.
I am nervous. Even the driver can tell. She offers a stick of gum before opening the door for me.
I settle in after accepting it and she shuts the door, places my luggage in the trunk and squarely heads for her side of the vehicle. As she revs the engine and we slowly leave the mansion’s wide-open lawn, I wonder if what Christy told me was true.
The driver was in the war. Ron told me that she was part of the Air force. Delta or something like that. So, on a mission over the coast of Somalia, they dropped down to an open war zone. I don’t want to get into the details, but she did some gory things. Things a woman should never do to a man.