Accidental Billionaire (17 page)

Oh wow. Yay, Logan. Baylee squeezed his arm, happy for him.

His dad blew out a breath. “Good. I’ll deal with Cleo.” His voice took on a sharp tone of impatience. “You didn’t have to break your trust fund open. I can handle the payoff.”

Logan looked at him blankly.

Baylee squirmed and put her sandwich down. She was too tired to eat anyway. Though a long gulp of water was wonderful, and the sandwich had been wonderful, and the night. Yep. She needed to go to bed. “I should leave you two to discuss this.”

Mr. St. John shook his head. “This obviously concerns you, too.”

The food, the lack of sleep, and the cushy sofa were making her even more sluggish. Baylee yawned again. “Sorry. I haven’t slept. I’m not tracking.”

Mr. St. John flipped through some papers and put one on top. “Rawlings had this forwarded to me. The dissolution of Logan’s trust fund into an accessible account. At your marriage. An account for Mr. and Mrs. St. John.” He wasn’t looking at her, but at Logan. “Your marriage unlocks your trust fund and grants you access to billions. Both of you.”

The paper shifting on the coffee table sounded loud in the silence and Logan lifted it.

It all clicked. “Oh. Mr. St. John. No. We’re not married for real. It was a game.” She raised her fists in the air. “I won.” The silence made her victory pose feel inappropriate. She dropped her arms.

“What’d you wish for, Baylee?” Logan’s voice was hushed.

She didn’t answer.

“Did you wish to marry me?” Logan frowned.

“No.” The question annoyed her. “No,” she said again with more emphasis.

Logan flipped through the papers and handed her one with her name, and the name of her bank in the header. Account Statement. As of today’s date, there was 88,000 and change in her bank account. This was a huge invasion of privacy. How’d he even get this?

He handed her another sheet, an account with the names Logan St. John and Baylee Steele St. John on top.

“What’d you wish for, Baylee?”

Baylee licked her dry lips.

Logan answered for her. “One billion dollars?” He shuffled other papers. “My accounts have increased balances, but this one account, in both our names, has exactly one billion dollars in it. Exactly.”

The paper looked official, but it couldn’t be real. Amid the papers, a more decorative sheet with scrolls on it caught her attention. Baylee snatched it from the pile. After big blocks of text, three lines shouted out at her.

“Are we really married?” The horror leaked into her voice.

OMG. She was a Vegas cliché, and she’d just set the new record in her family for early, failed marriages. “OMG.” Her breath left her body. She looked at Logan, who was pale, freaked out pale. “Did you know this was real?” Without air, her head spun. Had he used her like this? No. Logan wouldn’t do that.

“Did
you
know this was real?” His voice was louder.

Baylee pressed her palms to her temples. “Of course not. Did you?”

“Of course not.”

They were talking in circles, but the words were critical. “I don’t want your money.” Baylee tried to look at Logan but he wasn’t looking at her. She touched his arm, and then he turned to her. His eyes hurt, but there was a faint belief in them that she could work with. “Logan. You know me.”

Mr. St. John cleared his throat. “Baylee. When you emailed me about Logan being in town, I thought there was something suspicious going on, but I was so grateful to hear where he was, I left it alone. But this…” Mr. St. John shook his head.

The light in Logan’s eyes faded and his face hardened, and she became the recipient of his guarded look. Baylee opened and closed her mouth, her brain screaming at her for not confessing the email to his dad. Any time before now and it wouldn’t have mattered. Not much. Not like it did now.

Mr. St. John brushed his hand over his hair, a gesture Logan sometimes used. “I’ll go meet with my attorneys. You kids get some rest. And don’t make any more decisions until I get back to you.” He left them there. “These are legal issues. They can be rectified.”

Married. She was married. She didn’t feel married. She was married.

“Why’d you email my dad?” Logan’s voice came out husky.

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have an answer, because the answer was she had started crushing on him and wanted him gone from the apartment. It sounded stupid now. It was stupid. It had been a stupid thing to do, and she was sorry she did it.

The doorbell rang. Neither moved. It rang again, and they rose together to go open it. A delivery man stood on the other side holding three boxes: two dress-sized, one gift-sized. They took them without speaking and opened them on the couch, unable to do anything else, like puppets. The smallest was white, wrapped in glossy white paper with a white satin bow. The tag read,
Baylee & Logan
. There was one dress box for each of them.

Baylee poked at the ribbon. Logan pulled it free and lifted the lid.

Inside was a stack of legal documents with a cream card on top.
Congratulations. Mr. & Mrs. St. John. As the first wedding anniversary calls for paper, consider this an early and appropriate gift. All the best, Rawlings
. The papers looked like the stuff his dad brought over. She wheezed out a breath. This was feeling weirdly real. “Jeeze.”

Logan’s watch lit up.

“Why are you still wearing that?” She snatched hers from the table. It was lit also.

Last year’s game has officially ended
, the tech said.
It ends with Logan St. John receiving his delayed prize.

“What the hell?” Baylee looked at Logan. “Were you the one who wanted to get married? Maybe that was last year’s prize.”

“No, there was no prize, no wishes, no billion dollars.”

“I bet there was. Think hard, what’d you wish for, Logan?”

“I don’t even know.”

A video cued up on the smart watch. On screen, Logan stumbled and leaned into the back of a couch. He was talking to Rawlings, and his words were slurred, drunk.

The ominous feeling grew.

He had wished for something, and they were about to find out what it was.

“That’s last year,” Logan said, keeping his gaze on the screen.

Video Logan asked, “But why?” He repeated the question several times. “Val said ‘it was time,’ What does that even mean? Why can’t girls be clear?” He went on incoherently about a baseball game they’d seen and then pointed at something off camera.

Rawlings said, “Focus Logan, what do you want for a prize? You won. What do you want?”

Video Logan kept rambling, “Take Drake. He’s with Kira, right? Their love will last forever, right?” He extended the word forever. “Even though he hooked up with that blonde. I don’t want Val, I just want to know why she ended it before I did. I know why I wanted us through, but why did she?”

“If that’s what you want,” Rawlings’ said.

“Oh crap,” Logan mumbled in real time.

The screen went blank. Baylee got a bad feeling. A bad feeling on top of already bad feelings. “You may not want to watch anymore.”

Logan turned the volume up.

“This is what you wished for. You’re getting your answers,” Baylee said. “You know what’s coming.”

The video popped on. A beautiful brunette sat on Fritz’s lap, kissing his neck and undoing his tie.

“Your ex?”

“That’s Valerie.” His voice was flat.

The Valerie-Fritz cheating make-out got heavier. Baylee rubbed the side of her face, hoping this wasn’t being broadcast to all the players, but somehow knew it was. The screen went blank. Logan tossed the watch to the couch. “We need to talk to Rawlings.” Logan left the room and returned, typing on a computer tablet. He held the screen so she could see the new live video-call.

Rawlings’ image appeared, looking as tired as they did, but self-satisfied. “Last year’s game is officially over. I finished it.” He looked super pleased with himself. “The same as I finished this year’s game.”

Logan spewed a few curses. Nothing she hadn’t heard before, but nothing she’d heard from him. “So we were still in last year’s game?”

“It took some time to get all the answers, and then to get proof. But you got your wish. You got transparency, closure, answers to your questions.”

Logan shook his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Rawlings grinned. “Tonight I’m hosting a small reception for you two. A cocktail party.”

“No thanks,” Logan said.

“No thanks,” Baylee added, not wanting him to answer for her.

Rawlings frowned. “Really? There are things there you’re going to want.”

“We don’t all want things.” Baylee let the anger into her voice.

“I’ll leave it up to you two. But I’ve had divorce papers drafted. They’ll be waiting, along with a notary, if you change your mind.”

“What time?” Logan bit out the question.

“Eight.”

“We’ll see you then,” Baylee said.

“Thought you might.” Rawlings signed off.

Logan shut the lid on the laptop “So your dearest wish was for money? Who does that?” He was mad, like this was her fault. She’d seen him in a lot of moods in this short week, but none of them angry.

“Don’t snap at me. You’re mad at your cheating ex, not me.”

Logan stared at the tablet, not at her. “You’re married to me until eight o’clock, so I guess you have a billion dollars until then. What’s mine is yours, right?” He rose. “Enjoy it.” His voice was cold, expressionless. He took the dress box with his name on it and left the room.

Baylee took her own dress box back to the pink bedroom. She didn’t open it. She crawled on top of the covers and pulled the side over her. Shoving the guilt and upset away, she slept.

Baylee wore the cocktail dress from the box. Emerald, liquid silk, strapless, straight neckline, fitted. She slipped the scrap of card from last night into her bag. The remnant held her true material wish:
crystal candy souvenir for Mom with dish
. She didn’t know if it would matter or should matter to Logan, but she hoped she’d get the chance to show him what she’d really wished for.

They shared a ride, but didn’t talk on the way over. It was the same group as last night, but far less couples, far more tension. It was one of those events that if she looked at it from the outside, she’d wonder why all those rich kids, all dressed so beautifully, all lucky enough to be in this room with the saffron drapes overlooking the Vegas skyline, lounging on the saffron and teal furniture while formally dressed waiters catered to them, looked so sulky.

Logan strode straight over to Rawlings and punched him in the face.

Boys brawled at home: cafeteria brawls, post-football game brawls, keg party brawls. Baylee had thought they were idiots: playful, aggressive, testosterone-driven idiots. But this time, this once, the punch seemed justified.

Rawlings must have, too, for he rubbed his jaw and clapped Logan on the shoulder. She was too far away to hear but as this concerned her, she moved forward.

Nadine and Kira got in her path. Both wore knee-length dresses, fitted, Nadine’s gold and Kira’s royal blue. “Baylee! Congrats!” Kira gave her a small hug. “Crazy night, right?”

Nadine had a pissed expression. “Yeah. Congrats. Guess you were the big winner.”

Kira held her fingers in the shape of an L on her forehead. “And you were the big loser.” Their friendship had taken a hit during the game.

Ella joined them, wearing a lavender, dreamy, tissue-thin floaty dress. “How are you doing?”

Baylee was unsure how to answer and would have been more truthful if she and Ella were alone. “Okay. So everyone got the videos?”

Ella winced and took a lemonade from a circulating waiter. “Yeah.” She sounded uncomfortable, and she toyed with the umbrella garnish.

Kira flashed her fingers like a magician. “There are practically no couples left. Great job, Rawlings.”

“I’m sure he didn’t…Rawlings doesn’t always think…” Ella’s defenses died off.

“Oh. Rawlings always thinks.” Nadine narrowed her eyes. “But linearly. Straight ahead ten steps.”

“But he doesn’t look sideways for the fallout.” Baylee couldn’t believe she was agreeing with Nadine.

Nadine gave her a sharp nod. “Let’s see the ring.”

Baylee held up her left hand. She’d been uncertain about wearing the blue ring and the braided band. But honestly, it was one of the insanely black and white decisions she’d made growing up. Her dad didn’t wear a ring. She’d promised herself that if she married, she’d wear the ring. The second they signed the divorce papers though, it was coming off.

“Your engagement ring’s blue. I thought you won like a billion dollars.” Kira pursed her lips. “Why not a clear diamond?”

Nadine said, “Idiot. That’s a benitoite. Incredibly rare.”

Baylee wanted to say it wasn’t real. But it was real. It just wouldn’t be lasting.

“Oh, benitoite. From California, like Logan, and blue like his eyes.” Ella’s voice was romantic.

Baylee stared at the ring.

An arm hooked into hers. Logan. “Mind if I steal Baylee away?”

Kira giggled.

“Sure,” Ella said.

“Good luck,” Nadine said.

Baylee dug her four-inch heels into the carpet. “Wait. Kira. What happened with the spa day package?”

Kira tilted her head. “I gave it to you.”

Logan’s arm tightened. “It doesn’t matter. Come on.”

“It matters to me.” Baylee resisted Logan and faced Kira. “No. You didn’t give it to me.”

“Well, it was yours to use. I gave the info to your father and he said he’d give it to you.”

Baylee’s throat tightened. “Thanks, Kira.” Well, that solved that. Dad had used the gift certificate. That on top of her cuing Logan’s family onto his whereabouts, add Logan’s cheating ex, add her access to his money – no wonder Logan didn’t trust her anymore.

Logan tugged her arm, and she walked beside him. “Rawlings set up a room with the paperwork in the back,” Logan said.

Baylee arched her eyebrows. “We need a room for a signature?”