Playboy Billionaire

“You’re not attracted to him?”

“I mean, sure, he’s good-looking, we had fun….” I realize I’m not making him seem like boyfriend material. Idoconsider telling her our little scheme, but it’s too risky to involve anyone, even my best friend, so I slowly fix my words.

“I think he wants to go out again.”

“Oh my God! Are you going to say yes?” She nearly squeals into the phone. I bite my bottom lip. No going back now.

“Yeah, actually. I don’t want to get too excited, but I think he has potential.”

“Oh my God! That’s totally Stella code for you like him!” She’s got far too much energy for— I check the time— 7 am.

“You have to come to dinner tonight. Everyone wants the juicy deets!”

“Where?”

“Is that a question?”

“Iris.”

“Nobu, of course. 6 o’clock.”

“Early dinner.” I look at my chipped nail and make a mental note to get new ones before tonight.

“Jens has an early call-time tomorrow. He’s filming that one Sci-Fi movie.”

“Okay. I’ll be there at 6.” I affirm, and we say our goodbyes as I finish my breakfast.

There’s a knock on my door, and I swing my feet over the edge of the bed as I call, “Come in!”

“I hear you’re dating already!” Gran’s voice sounds lively, and I can hear that she’s flaunting her signature smile of approval. A part of me feels really proud of myself for convincing everyone so easily, but another is twisted sickly by the dilemma it presents. If we fail to make them see our sides by playing their games, we will lose everything we worked for and maybe then some. I have to do everything in my power to sell this.

“Well, Gran, you shouldn’t believe everything you read on gossip sites.” She sits next to me on the bed, her ruby silk robe flowing to the floor. I turn my head to her gentle smile, and she places a hand on mine.

“I just want you to be happy. You know that.” No, that’s not really her priority. But still, I nod, “I know.” I’m losing track of my lies. “I do like him.” I force a smile to my eyes, and she proudly grins.

“Knew you would.” She pats my hand and exits the room. I take a deep breath through my nose and exhale just as steady, aiming to calm the nerves swirling in my stomach. I take a long shower after that. Just needing to break away from everything for a moment to clear my head. God, the day’s barely begun, and I already need to do a mental detox.

After my shower, I head downstairs to our spa room. I typically schedule when I want to get my facials and nails done, but today I walk right in. One of the techs that’s normally on standby follows after me, nervousness on her child-like features.

“My apologies, Miss. I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

“Oh, I didn’t schedule an appointment. I hope that’s alright.” I smile, almost bat my lashes, hoping she has everything she needs to do what I want.

“Of course! Take a seat, and I’ll get you started.” She gestures to the bed next to the wall. It’s dimly lit, soothing, and always smells like lavender in here. I feel better before I’ve even laid down on the bamboo memory foam.

The technician is gentle. I’ve never been disappointed in how much of a glow she can give my skin. They end up doing both a mani and pedi. I chose a pretty iridescent pearl color to match my outfit this evening. I’ve already got it planned out in my head. It's this beautiful short Valentino dress. Buttons at the top, silky and see-through with flower petal details. The bottom half is tight, form-fitting, and stops well above the knee. It’s elegant, but not too fancy for sitting on the decks of Nobu, watching the sunset, and drinking with my friends.

As I step out into the hallway after my hour and a half in the spa room, there’s commotion coming from the kitchen. I follow it down the hall, through the foyer, and to the kitchen, where my mother is yelling at the chef for undercooking something. My mother’s unhinged most of the time, but not like this.

“Mom!” I shout over her, and both the horrified chef and her burning rage turn to me. “What the hell are you yelling at Alice for?”

“Stay out of this. It’s adult stuff.”

“I’m twenty-three.” I cock my head.

“Precisely.” She sneers, turning her head back to the chef.

“What, so I’m old enough to marry into a family for your personal gain, but I’m not old enough to know how to talk to someone with decency?”