Page 18 of Not My Billionaire


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I put the car in park and turn it off, but I don’t get out. “I need a favor from you,” I say. I’ve been avoiding this part of the conversation since arriving at her place. If I could put it off forever, I would.

“What is it?” she asks. She no longer sounds angry with me, just tired.

The car ticks as it cools down, and I let out a sigh. “My lawyers want you to sign an NDA. It’s kind of a requirement for all my…friends.” There has to be a better word for what Alexis means to me, but I dare not try to find out when our relationship is so tenuous.

She shakes her head. “Whatever. I guess just get it to me when you need it signed.” She’s clearly exhausted from the day, and I move around the car to help her out. She doesn’t take my hand, and she stands far away when I lead her to the private elevator.

“I have you on the second-to-top floor,” I say. There are three suites up there, convenient since we need to put up Alexis, Hector, and Tammy indefinitely. All of them were in the subsequent photos of me leaving the beach, which means all of them will need security for at least a week or two until the news cycle finds something more interesting to focus on.

She shrugs, still wrapped in her sheet. She didn’t take time to pack clothes, although I guess I didn’t give her any time for that. I pull a phone out of my pocket and hand it to her. “Your old number will leak eventually, so I got you this. It has Camilla’s number in it. She can get you anything you need.”

She looks at the phone like it’s a venomous snake, but when the elevator dings to indicate her floor, she takes it out of my hand. “Thanks,” she says, not entirely genuine.

“You’re welcome,” I say, holding the elevator open. “You’re in room one. The phone will unlock the door.”

She looks at the device, frowning. This must all be so overwhelming for her.

“Good night, Alexis,” I say, then let the doors shut between us.

***

Alexis

The moment the elevator doors close, the door for room number two opens. Tammy is standing there, a warm smile on her face. Before I can say anything, she wraps me in a warm hug that reminds me of my own mother back home. Through the doors, I spot her sons jumping from one expensive sofa to another, and her husband is at the desk, glasses on as he frowns at his dissertation.

“It’s been a long day,” Tammy says, then pulls away and takes my face between her hands. “But I know he cares about you.”

I flush. I don’t want to think about that right now, although all my anger at James had flooded away on the short ride from my apartment. He seems genuinely sorry for lying, and it makes sense why he’d do it. When the whole world knows your name, why wouldn’t you latch on to the first person who likes you for who you are, no strings attached?

“I’m gonna go to bed,” I say, and Tammy nods, patting a hand on my cheek.

I enter the room that James arranged for me, then gasp. My suite is massive, a separate door leading to the bedroom. The floors are real hardwood, and modern chandeliers drip down from the high ceiling like stars glittering in the sky. A white leather sectional sits in the room, facing a massive television. The walls are painted a shade of pale gray, and art that’s worthy of museums hangs everywhere.

My own phone rings, not the one James gave me, and I pick it up when I see the caller ID.

“Mom?” I ask, my voice small. She must have seen the news, must know that I’ve been lying to her all these months. If she finds out that I’m a waitress, she’ll be furious with me, demanding that I come home.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” she asks. I expected her to be mad at the fact that I didn’t tell her about my life, but the only thing in her voice is worry.

I fall to the couch and let out a sob, the first bit of sadness I’ve allowed myself to feel since finding all this out. Then, I tell her everything.

Chapter Thirteen

Alexis

It’s late in the day when I wake up. I stayed up talking to my mom for hours, and she told me about how she got fired from her first job, and how she’s had boyfriends lie to her. I didn’t point out that James is not my boyfriend.

After we got off the phone, I copied all my phone numbers to the new phone. James is right. If I’ve been discovered, then none of my personal information is safe.

At midnight, just before I fell asleep, I texted James’ assistant, Camilla, and asked if someone could pick up some clothes for me.

I sit up in the bed, the AC cool on my skin, unfamiliar as I’ve spent all summer with an oven as my home. I look out at the ocean through the massive windows. I guess I could get used to sights like this, although I’ll be back at my apartment before too long. Still, I might as well enjoy this for the moment.

When I go into the living area, there’s a blue light on next to the door. I tilt my head. What does it mean?

I walk over, and the light is coming from a tablet. I click a button, and a message pops up.

Delivery!

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