Page 52
Story: One Night with a Billionaire
There was that word: burden. Her grandmother always tossed it in Kylie’s face. It hurt worse than any other insult. “Well, now I’m working and taking care of you, Nana. Just like I should. How are you feeling?”
“I hate this place.” Her voice wobbled. “Come and get me. Right now.”
“I can’t, Nana. I wish I could. I have to work.”
“Then put your mother on the phone, Kylie. I know she’ll come get me. She’s not ungrateful. Not like you. You get that from your father’s side.”
Kylie’s head throbbed. She hated these conversations. If she told her grandmother that her daughter was dead, she’d just get confused—or worse, cry. “She’s in the bathroom, Nana. I’ll have her call you back.”
“You do that. I have to go to work now.”
“All right, Nana. Talk to you later.” Kylie’s throat felt like a dry knot when she hung up. A call from her nana always made her feel like dirt. Unloved, ungrateful dirt.
Count on the burden of family to kick you while you were down.
TWELVE
By the time Daphne went on stage for her second Vegas show, Kylie had mostly relaxed.
Mostly.
She’d showered and fixed her hair into an elaborate set of sausage-curls and clips that would show off her newly redyed bright red ends. She’d taken care of her roots, and her makeup was carefully done as well. All of this was to hide the fact that she had rings under her eyes and a hangover pallor to her skin. If she looked put together, no one would ask questions. She wore a cute swishy navy dress with a striped top and fluffy skirt hemmed with red, and wore red and navy sandals with it. Today, she supposed she’d look the part of Fat Marilyn. And if the rest of her was a bit glammed up, maybe no one would ask why she was wearing rings on every finger, or why the one on her ring-finger was turned inward, the stones hidden unless she opened her palm.
But no one asked, and as Kylie prepped Daphne, she began to feel better about things. Cade would understand once he had a few hours to digest things, she told herself. He’d come to his senses and they’d talk things through like normal consenting adults that just needed to step away from the alcohol for a bit. Lots of people made mistakes in Vegas, she told herself as she packed away the stage makeup kit and began to take out the palettes she used for Daphne’s postshow interview makeup.
And as Daphne began to perform and the music swelled through the backstage area, Kylie sat in her chair and rubbed her aching forehead. She could almost believe that things were normal. Almost. Except when she rubbed her head, it provided her with a good look at the huge red-and-yellow wedding ring she had turned inward. The ring that wouldn’t come off no matter how hard she tried.
That, and her phone was missing. She’d left it in her mad dash to get away from Cade. That was okay, though. She’d get a replacement phone when she got her next check.
Ginger wasn’t speaking to her, either. Every time she saw Kylie, she pursed her lips in a disapproving look and left the room. She took Snoopy on smoke breaks with her instead of Kylie, and Kylie tensed every time she saw Ginger talk to Daphne. But Daphne never freaked out and her mood was rather mellow, so Kylie had to assume that Ginger wasn’t saying anything.
So. Almost normal.
She twisted the wedding ring absently, staring in the mirror, and wondered what Cade was doing tonight. Heading back out to Botswana? More medical conferences? Or had he gone back home to New York? Maybe he was at a law office requesting an annulment even now. She ignored the guilty feeling that gave her, and the vague unhappiness.
It wasn’t meant to be. She needed to remember her priorities. She should call her nana, see if she was lucid again. Check with her caretakers to make sure Kylie’s account was up to date and everything was going well. See if Nana was screaming at everyone still. See if she still considered Kylie her “burden.”
But of course she didn’t have her phone. Cade did.
As if her thoughts had conjured him, the door to the greenroom opened and Cade Archer stepped in, looking inhumanly gorgeous and supremely pissed. Kylie froze in the director’s chair at the makeup stand, and she cringed in place as his furious gaze scanned the room and then locked squarely onto her.
—
Kylie didn’t want to play fair?
He’d fucking show her how dirty he could play, then.
For the first time in a very long time, Cade was so angry he could hardly think straight. He didn’t get mad when a business copied one of his patents illegally, selling poorly made equipment to customers who thought they were getting legitimate products. He simply sent his lawyers after them. He didn’t get mad when a massive donation of medical supplies to a war-torn country was stolen by local insurgents. He resent the supplies and had his organization send along trained guards to protect the goods and make sure they got to the people that needed them. He didn’t even get mad when he found out Daphne was using again. He was just disappointed.
“I hate this place.” Her voice wobbled. “Come and get me. Right now.”
“I can’t, Nana. I wish I could. I have to work.”
“Then put your mother on the phone, Kylie. I know she’ll come get me. She’s not ungrateful. Not like you. You get that from your father’s side.”
Kylie’s head throbbed. She hated these conversations. If she told her grandmother that her daughter was dead, she’d just get confused—or worse, cry. “She’s in the bathroom, Nana. I’ll have her call you back.”
“You do that. I have to go to work now.”
“All right, Nana. Talk to you later.” Kylie’s throat felt like a dry knot when she hung up. A call from her nana always made her feel like dirt. Unloved, ungrateful dirt.
Count on the burden of family to kick you while you were down.
TWELVE
By the time Daphne went on stage for her second Vegas show, Kylie had mostly relaxed.
Mostly.
She’d showered and fixed her hair into an elaborate set of sausage-curls and clips that would show off her newly redyed bright red ends. She’d taken care of her roots, and her makeup was carefully done as well. All of this was to hide the fact that she had rings under her eyes and a hangover pallor to her skin. If she looked put together, no one would ask questions. She wore a cute swishy navy dress with a striped top and fluffy skirt hemmed with red, and wore red and navy sandals with it. Today, she supposed she’d look the part of Fat Marilyn. And if the rest of her was a bit glammed up, maybe no one would ask why she was wearing rings on every finger, or why the one on her ring-finger was turned inward, the stones hidden unless she opened her palm.
But no one asked, and as Kylie prepped Daphne, she began to feel better about things. Cade would understand once he had a few hours to digest things, she told herself. He’d come to his senses and they’d talk things through like normal consenting adults that just needed to step away from the alcohol for a bit. Lots of people made mistakes in Vegas, she told herself as she packed away the stage makeup kit and began to take out the palettes she used for Daphne’s postshow interview makeup.
And as Daphne began to perform and the music swelled through the backstage area, Kylie sat in her chair and rubbed her aching forehead. She could almost believe that things were normal. Almost. Except when she rubbed her head, it provided her with a good look at the huge red-and-yellow wedding ring she had turned inward. The ring that wouldn’t come off no matter how hard she tried.
That, and her phone was missing. She’d left it in her mad dash to get away from Cade. That was okay, though. She’d get a replacement phone when she got her next check.
Ginger wasn’t speaking to her, either. Every time she saw Kylie, she pursed her lips in a disapproving look and left the room. She took Snoopy on smoke breaks with her instead of Kylie, and Kylie tensed every time she saw Ginger talk to Daphne. But Daphne never freaked out and her mood was rather mellow, so Kylie had to assume that Ginger wasn’t saying anything.
So. Almost normal.
She twisted the wedding ring absently, staring in the mirror, and wondered what Cade was doing tonight. Heading back out to Botswana? More medical conferences? Or had he gone back home to New York? Maybe he was at a law office requesting an annulment even now. She ignored the guilty feeling that gave her, and the vague unhappiness.
It wasn’t meant to be. She needed to remember her priorities. She should call her nana, see if she was lucid again. Check with her caretakers to make sure Kylie’s account was up to date and everything was going well. See if Nana was screaming at everyone still. See if she still considered Kylie her “burden.”
But of course she didn’t have her phone. Cade did.
As if her thoughts had conjured him, the door to the greenroom opened and Cade Archer stepped in, looking inhumanly gorgeous and supremely pissed. Kylie froze in the director’s chair at the makeup stand, and she cringed in place as his furious gaze scanned the room and then locked squarely onto her.
—
Kylie didn’t want to play fair?
He’d fucking show her how dirty he could play, then.
For the first time in a very long time, Cade was so angry he could hardly think straight. He didn’t get mad when a business copied one of his patents illegally, selling poorly made equipment to customers who thought they were getting legitimate products. He simply sent his lawyers after them. He didn’t get mad when a massive donation of medical supplies to a war-torn country was stolen by local insurgents. He resent the supplies and had his organization send along trained guards to protect the goods and make sure they got to the people that needed them. He didn’t even get mad when he found out Daphne was using again. He was just disappointed.
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