Billionaire's Single Mom

"Hurry, Jack," she pleaded. "I need you here."

"I'm on my way, Mother," I said then added. "I love you. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I love you, too," she said, before hanging up.

I instructed the captain to pull up the anchor and head for Athens. Then I walked back up to the top deck where the two girls had resumed sunbathing. They both looked up expectantly, ready for me to rejoin the fun.

"C'mon, Jack!" the blonde called. "We kept your spot warm!"

I looked at the beautiful, naked bodies lying on the chaise lounge in front of me. I pushed my shorts down around my ankles and slid in between them.

"Have your way with me, girls," I said. I cupped the blonde girl's breast while the brunette princess straddled my hips, giggling as she began rocking herself to an orgasm of unparalleled intensity. I let go and pushed my sorrows aside as I gave in to the hedonistic pleasures of the girls' bodies as the yacht sped toward the mainland.

Reality could wait until we arrived.

Chapter Two

Leah

"Dammit, Leah!" my mother yelled as she leaned against the doorframe, lighting a cigarette. "Where the hell did you put my bottle? I just had it five minutes ago!"

"I didn't touch it, Mama," I said as I sat on the couch folding clean laundry, trying to avoid my mother's wrath.

"The hell you didn't," she muttered as she walked back into the kitchen, slamming the cabinet doors as she searched for the bottle of vodka. It was no use telling her that she'd finished it several hours ago. She'd simply accuse me of lying to her. She yelled at me from the kitchen as she searched, "You're a lousy daughter, you know that? Molly never would have hidden my bottle from me! She was a blessing, that one. Not like you . . . ungrateful little sneak."

I set my jaw and kept folding. The words weren't new, but the pain they caused each time she uttered them was always surprising. I thought that by now I'd have gotten used to the insults she hurled when she was drunk, but to my astonishment the wounds always felt fresh.

"Gram, you drank the last of the bottle before we had lunch," Riley called from the back room. "Don't you remember?"

"I most certainly do not!" my mother shouted back. "Why are you lying to your Gram, child?"

"I'm not lying," Riley said emerging from the back room dressed in an oversized hoodie and a pair of jeans two sizes too big. Her dark hair was cut like a boy's and stuck up every which way, no matter how much product she used. My twelve-year-old niece was a dedicated tomboy who seemed to be the only one in the family safe from my mother's sharp tongue.

"Then walk with me to the store so I can get another," my mother demanded as she searched through her purse, looking for money. It wasn’t long before she shouted, “Leah, did you steal all of my money?"

"No, Mama, I didn't," I said, shooting Riley a look from across the room and nodding toward my purse. We'd been through this so many times, and she knew exactly what to do. I reminded my mother, "You used it to buy your last bottle. Do you need a loan?"

"No, I don't need a damn loan!" she shouted as she turned her purse upside down and dumped the contents onto the dining room table. "I need my goddamned money is what I need!"

"C'mon, Gram!" Riley called as she held up the twenty-dollar bill she'd gotten from my purse. "I've got your money right here. Let's walk down to the bodega and get your bottle, okay?"

"How the hell did you get that money from my purse?" my mother demanded. "It wasn't here when I dumped it out!"

"Yes it was, Gram," Riley lied. "I just picked it up and found it. Let's go, Gram! Get your sweater!"

I nodded at Riley who gave me a lopsided smile as she took her grandmother's arm and led her carefully down the steps. I didn't like the fact that Riley was the one who had to walk Mama to the store, but with Molly gone and Patrick at the parish Riley was the only one Mama would allow to help her.

"Don't steal anything else while I'm gone, Leah!" my mother shouted as she headed down the street. "Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Mama," I sighed. "I hear you. I always hear you."

Later that evening, after Mama had drunk herself into a deep sleep, Riley came out and sat down next to me on the couch.

"Why does Gram drink so much?" she asked. She curled up in a corner of the couch, wrapped her arms around her knees, and picked at the hem of her hoodie.

"She's in pain," I said as I pulled the elastic out of my ponytail and ran my fingers though the long, dark curls.

"Why is she in pain, Leah?" Riley asked. "Is it because of me?"