Page 2 of Date The Billionaire

“I love you too, now go do nasty things with dirty people. Just make sure you tell me all the gory details later!” I did love to hear his stories of seduction and lust, even if I didn’t have my own to share back.

“You know I will,” he called as he headed out of the door to drive away.

I’d met Tony a few years before at a local flea market as we bargained with a vendor over a rug. He kept offering more than I did, both of us laughing, and I finally caved, saying I didn’t have anywhere to put the handmade woven grass rug anyway. He’d looked at me and asked if I was homeless, and I told him about how I’d been staying in a ratty hotel when my student housing burned down one night. The university was doing all they could to re-house the other four girls I’d shared with, but nothing was happening fast. He’d told me about his house on one of the old Charleston streets, an inheritance from his grandmother, and we’d been roommates since.

I ate my crappy meal in silence and planned out the paper I needed to start writing. I was almost finished with my law degree. Tony barely charged me rent and my job at the library as a helper three days a week kept me in pocket money. My parents were paying for my education but I’d insisted on doing the rest on my own. My mom still tried to slip money into my bank account without me knowing about it, going to our local bank in Greenville to make a deposit every now and then, but I never asked for it. She thought I was still unaware of where the money came from, but I knew.

They were proud of their only child, and Mom used her earnings as a cardiologist to make sure I had a bright future. I paid them back by studying hard. Except for the time I missed when I contracted meningitis during an outbreak at the university, I spent all of my time studying. Now that I could see the finish line, I didn’t want to let up the pace.

Tony tempted me most days with tales of a new club he’d found, and the men and women that went to it. I’d almost caved a few times, but I’d found the will to turn it down. This redhead wanted her law degree, not a man! I’d provide for myself, and I’d never have to depend on anyone but me.

With a sigh, I went to my books, opened my laptop, and got back to work. An hour later I was making brownies, promising myself I’d run an extra two miles in the morning. It was going to be one of those long nights where I wished like hell I’d gone out with Tony, but some fudgy brownies would do the trick instead. Or so I told myself.

I flipped through the television channels as I waited, rolling my eyes at the garbage that passed for television now. I’d grown up watching stuff many would consider ancient, black and white television shows about witches and genies, stuff that had a plot, and some more modern shows but I hated reality television of any kind. Except for documentaries, and even those were driving me up the wall lately. Conjecture stated as fact, opinions given as proof, it just made me doubt the whole program so I usually just stopped watching.

I saw one of those dating programs, the kind where women vie for the attention of some billionaire, and had to fight the urge to pull a face. Those were so fake! How anyone believed they were real was beyond me. It was all fake, right down to the marriage that came later, the pregnancy, and then the divorce once the limelight was off the nationally loved couple. You couldn’t learn to love someone in just a matter of weeks, there was just no way.

I settled on a horror program about a town where the people went crazy one by one and the people try to avoid the madness, whilst waiting for my brownies to bake. I took a call from my mother, telling her about Mrs. Mallory’s gin-soaked plans, and listened to her as she told me about the neighbor’s cat using her new hot tub as a water bowl before it fell in. We talked about my classes and then she went off to make a cake for my father. We were a baking family, despite Mom being a cardiologist. We weren’t very good at taking doctor’s orders, obviously.

I went back to my paper and forgot about men, dating, and drunken passion. I had plans and they were focused on my law degree. I had to stay focused on that.

* * *

“Laney, have you seen Mrs. Mallory’s grandson from the front? If it lives up to the promise of the back I might just have to walk on over there and find out if he wants to see what my bedroom ceiling looks like.” Tony was standing at the sink, washing dishes in a rather distracted manner.

I walked up behind him to look out of the window but all I caught was a glimpse of the newly arrived grandson as he went down to his basement apartment. He’d moved in a few days ago but I still hadn’t met him. Mrs. Mallory was more than willing to set us up, but I’d been putting her off from the start. I knew she meant well, but the man was moving into his granny’s basement. He was probably already in debt up to his eyeballs or such a loner that we’d share an awkward date over a pizza while he told me about his video game character all night.

Ugh, no, I couldn’t deal with that kind of mess. Even if he did look good from the back.

“I haven’t seen him from the front, I’ve been too busy with that paper. Maybe you should ask his gran to set you up,” I said, hiding a grin behind my hand with a fake yawn. I turned away, the dazzle of the morning light hurting my eyes. He hadn’t looked too bad from the back, but I squashed that thought.

“Oh no, sweetie, that’s all about you. Tony don’t do blind dates. Not with this body.” He ran hands covered in brightly colored yellow gloves down his sides and flicked his head like he was tossing back long hair.

“You are a fine-looking man, baby. If only you weren’t gay!” We laughed, the inside joke being how so many women told him that.

“Have I ever told you I’m glad you’re just a nerd. A damn sexy one.” He paused to look me over in my yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt. “Even in that getup, but still a nerd. Which reminds me.”

He wandered over to the shelf where we put the mail every day and used a finger to push through the pile to find his. I saw him grin widely before he snatched an envelope up and stuck it in the back pocket of his jeans. Tony gave me a wink as he went back to the dishes, his lips still smiling.

“Fun times ahead, so much fun.”

I gave him a puzzled look but didn’t ask. It was his business. Even if I did wonder what about my clothes reminded him he needed to check the mail.

“Well, I have to go to work so if you don’t need me for lusting after the neighbor anymore...” I let the sentence trail off, waiting for his response.

“Girl, get to work. I need some new shoes this week.” He gave me a wink to soften the words, and I gave him a slight hug and pecked his cheek before I went to change into more suitable attire.

“I’ll see you this evening then.”

I heard him chuckle as I left the room, and it made me wonder what he had up his sleeve. That gleam in his eye usually meant he had a plot afoot. Sometimes I was dragged into those plots kicking and screaming, but most of the time he’d go off and do whatever he was doing without me being any wiser. It kept our relationship fresh, what can I say? I never knew exactly what he was up to. He was my roommate and my best friend, not my boyfriend.

I went through my day finding research materials for students, logging books in and out, and even broke up a fight as two girls decided to fight over the same romance novel that it turned out we had several copies of, if they’d only asked. I drove home, my thoughts on a chilled glass of wine and a quiet story. I’d found this website where voice actors produced short stories, like the old-fashioned radio programs, and I listened to them almost every night now before bed. I found it soothing to listen as the readers got into the story and started really acting like the character as they spoke. It was good stuff to fall asleep to.

I knew Tony must be out before I even saw his car missing from the driveway, only the lamps were on throughout the house, the wall lights had all been left off. When I walked through the door I went through my normal routine, letting my hair down, kicking off my shoes and putting my purse down on the hall table, a masterpiece of reclaimed pine wood Tony had created from used pallets, and headed for the kitchen for that glass of wine.

There was already a wineglass on the kitchen island, with what looked a folded letter leaning against it. Curious, I picked it up. My heart started to race when I saw the letterhead... Dream Matchmakers. Tony wouldn’t, would he? He would never...

Oh my God!