Billionaires in Vegas

“No, Mom. There will be no wedding back home. We’re getting an annulment.” I thrust the folder in her direction. “Please. For me.”

She’s clearly taken aback by my words. For me? Yeah, right. She probably thinks I’m driving a dagger in her heart and twisting it around so hard that she’s watching herself bleed to death in front of my lawyer and me. I’m a total asshole, as far as she’s concerned.

But she’s also my mother. As much as it hurts her to do so, I know that she’ll do what I ask in the end. She can’t say no to me. After all, I’m her only child, and as much as my mother likes to pretend she’s completely independent, she’s entirely reliant on her family.

She takes the folder, her eyes never leaving mine. “You’re sure about this?”

I shrug. “I fucked up, Mom. I don’t like asking you to help bail me out like this, but you’re here, so you can help.”

Her dark bob she’s got tucked back in a tight, prim ponytail bounces when she pivots on her high heels. The folder is tight in her hand. “I love you, dear, but you’re a fucking idiot.”

“I know, Mom.”

“No, you don’t.” She opens the room door and steps into the hallway, Clarence moving to follow her—probably to make sure she actually delivers it. “You’re going to regret this. One day.”

Before she can close the door, I respond, “We can always get married again. Works for you.”

Her grumble nearly guts me. “You only have one first marriage.”

The door clicks shut. I’m alone again. Time for another drink. To my first marriage.

Kathryn

Witches don’t cackle nearly as well as my best friend does.

Naturally, the last thing I want to hear right now is her laughing at my expense. It’s also eleven in the morning here in the Pacific Time Zone, but that means she’s had three hours to wake up more than me. Which means losing her shit when I tell her what’s happened.

“You’re married?” I can practically hear Eva Warren blowing up from the inside. She knows me as well as I know her—in that she knows I’m about as likely to get married to any man as she is to sleep with any man. Honestly, why did I call her? Oh, right. Because I need someone to unload my problems on who isn’t my father. Because he would make this situation so much better.

“Well, hopefully I won’t be married much longer. I’m supposed to get served with a complaint of annulment sometime today. Then my lawyer and I are responding to it. Then we’re having a rush hearing to make this all go away.”

She’s still laughing. There must be a stitch in her side, because I can imagine her hanging on for dear life to her chair as she wipes tears away from her heavily-mascaraed eyes. “You got drunkenly hitched in Vegas... I am never, ever letting you live this down!”

“Yeah, well, remember that it can happen to you now too. One day I’m going to get a call that you’re in Atlantic City with some girl you can’t remember the name of. But you’re married!”

“Finally, true equality in my grasp.” Eva sighs, happily, holding back more laughter. “Was the wedding sex at least worth it?”

Now I sigh, and not happily. “We haven’t done anything since before we got hitched. We’re not supposed to. It would consummate it, and if it stays unconsummated, we have a better case to get a quick annulment.”

“Wait, so let me get this straight... you go with your boyfriend to Vegas to help him with a business dinner... but mostly to bone him in Vegas for a whole week afterward...”

“Uh huh.”

“Like the second night there you get so shitfaced that you get Elvis to marry you? Now you’re spending the rest of your sexcation not getting any because you’re married?”

I nod. I know she can’t hear me, but she can totally hear me.

“That’s great!”

“I hate you.”

“Not nearly as much as you hate yourself right now.”

My phone quakes in my hand. I don’t know if I want to throttle her, throw my phone across the room, or scream into the nearest pillow. Probably all three. “Yes, I totally ruined my vacation. Life is rough. Hey, uh...” I clear my throat. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? I want this to go away without causing a stink.”

“Oh, I’m not telling a soul. Wouldn’t want word getting back to Daddy.”

I shudder. My father is a very understanding man, all things considered. He knew I was going to go one of two ways as a stupid teenager: I was either going to be the most behaved princess in a tower ever, or I was going to slut it up with every half-decent looking boy I came across. Guess what? I’m still a slut. Just with one man.