Accidental Billionaire (3 page)

They were almost at the Venetian when Ella brought up Tyler. “I noticed you call Sax Grayson by his real name, ‘Tyler.’ You’ve known him long?”

“He’s a family friend.” Baylee didn’t love talking about Tyler, because she never knew who might sell his story to the press, so she switched the topic to Ella. “You want to work at a record label when you graduate?”

Ella smiled. “I’m a dress designer. I’m hoping to assist with the video shoot costumes.”

That was decisive. She was Ella, and she wanted to be a dress designer. “Cool.” Baylee wished she knew what she wanted to do. She only knew what she didn’t want.

Ella widened her light blue eyes. “You’re a musician?”

She’d played the flute in marching band. So, sort of.

“And you’re joining Tyler’s band?”

“Not exactly.” Not at all. Baylee smiled a tight smile and held back the urge to explain what she’d already told Tyler at least ten times. Thanks, but no. She played the flute. Rock bands didn’t feature the flute. Tyler said he heard her but he’d sent her a plane ticket to Vegas along with sheet music for a rock song that featured a flute segment. Mom had said, “You’re going to L.A. to see your cousin anyway. Stop by Vegas and see Tyler in person. Pay him for the plane ticket and explain why you won’t join the band.” That would be easier to do if she knew what she wanted to do instead. She didn’t.

So here she was, in the city where her parents had split up. She’d been ten, they’d been road-tripping to Disneyland and Dad had wanted to linger here a little too long. Mom had let him.

Ella drew her back to the present. “When did you want to do your recording?”

The fairy-light music flitted through Baylee’s mind. She blew out a breath like she was playing the flute and bit back the urge to explain that she wasn’t ready. Maybe later, maybe she’d talk Tyler out of it, or maybe he’d find a real musician to do it. “Not sure yet.”

The rest of the limo ride lasted about ten minutes. Ella made small talk and pointed out the names of the big casinos. Vegas was pretty amazing: sunshine, desert, skyscrapers. Crazy. Like the movies, but brighter, hotter, bigger.

The driver dropped her at the front entrance, and Ella got out to say bye. “Call if you need anything. I’ll be in touch about the recording schedule.”

Baylee decided it’d be crazy to wait for some imaginary date with Logan before getting to ride one of the gondolas, so she went over to the ticket booth. They weren’t running. That was how she’d wanted to see the Venetian, so she opted to check out The Paris casino instead. Ignoring the creepers on the sidewalk with their hooker flyers and walking close to the casino entrances to catch a blast of air-conditioning, she headed that way.

It was worth the walk. The Paris casino was amazing. The walls were constructed out of magnolia-colored stone, there was a huge blue hot air balloon, and the Eiffel Tower went straight through the building. They built buildings back home around trees, but this building had been built around the Eiffel Tower.

It was too early for lunch so she checked out the shops. Everything was too cute, and one item would be perfect for Mom. She rang her mom and described the tiny crystal candies with their teal glass dish. “Vibrant swirly colors. Very pretty. About thirty dollars. And the dish they’re in is $1200.” Mom would love the little candies and thirty bucks was in reach, but she’d hate for her to spend that kind of money on a souvenir. She knew she was right by the way Mom gasped at the cost.

Baylee leaned back against the glass and stared at the ceiling while Mom commented on the exterior photo she’d sent earlier. Paris shops lay under a ceiling painted like the sky, light blue with puffy clouds. Colored lights cast shadows over it, giving the illusion of time passing. Funny. The casino she’d walked through had no clocks, like time stood still. But here in the shopping area, sun set in the clouds every fifteen minutes. Fascinating. This was like walking through a fantasy, not like the sterile mall at home, which took over an hour to drive to, with its white linoleum and big red
sale
banners.

She adjusted the phone against her ear, keeping it close so she could hear over the music and the gaming noises pouring from the casino. The siren call never wavered.

Baylee started back down the cobbled French village path and the perfume kiosk lady who waved jasmine samplers. She smiled ‘no thanks’ to the perfume lady and kept walking.

Mom sounded like she was settling in on the couch while Baylee was headed back to the apartment. “Tell me what you like best.”

Baylee waved down a cab on the street and delayed answering Mom a minute so she could give Tyler’s address. “Sorry I was talking to the cabbie. I liked the Eiffel Tower. You can go inside for a fee but I just got outdoor shots. But really, the whole setup’s fascinating. So many people. Accents from all over. And the machines make this constant noise to lure the gamblers. I’m dying to know their electric bill.”

“Ours was $300. I can send you a copy if you like.”

“Ohh. Thanks. I’ll read it over dinner.”

Mom chuckled.

“I want to see the pyramid-shaped casino, and the New York, New York and the MGM Grand. The strip’s longer than it looks online. I didn’t get down to that end yet.”

Mom, a big movie fan, made a sound of disappointment.

“I know. But I have a week. I’ll get there.” And she’d ride in a gondola.

“How’s Tyler? Did he go with you?”

“It’s too hard for Tyler to go to public places. The screaming fans get out of control.”

“You two getting along okay? Not fighting, are you?”

“It’s all good.” But it wasn’t just the two of them there anymore. Logan was staying there, too, but she wasn’t volunteering that. The evasion crawled in her stomach as if she’d eaten the glass candies. “Aria said she’d go site-seeing with me later in the week.”

“How’s she doing? And the boys?” They talked about Tyler’s girlfriend Aria and her bandmates. They’d all been in marching band together so Mom knew them. She wanted the rundown and that lasted until she reached Tyler’s building, then the topic turned to college next fall.

“We got a letter from Tech. Your dorm assignment. And the total amount due for the semester. We have eight weeks to pay it.”

The elevator doors opened quietly on her. “Cool.” She’d pay the bill online. This would be the first withdrawal from her college savings account. The one she and Mom had added to for eighteen years: $88,000. She had enough for four years of college. They’d saved some out of every paycheck, all of Mom’s bonuses, and anytime Dad bothered to send child support. They were both really proud of the balance.

“I spoke with your dad yesterday. He’s in Las Vegas, too. For work. Crazy coincidence, right?”

Dad was in the same freaking state and she didn’t know. That should have been a shocker. “Yeah. Crazy.” She did her best to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

“I got onto him about calling you. Have you talked to him lately? You two should meet up for lunch.” Mom was always pushing them to have a stronger relationship, like Baylee’d end up on a pole in clear-heeled stilettos if she didn’t go to lunch with Dad.

She wouldn’t hold her breath for him to call. “Sounds good.” Baylee unlocked the door to the penthouse and then dumped her purse and souvenir package on the table beside the cougar statue. Mom was getting a magnet from Paris. Members of the band were each getting a magnet. Dad was getting nothing. “I’m back at Tyler’s. I gotta let you go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Bye, sweetie. Have fun. And tell Tyler I said,
hi
.”

“I will. Bye. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Baylee clicked off. Rock music and a glimpse of Logan in the other room drew her in.

Logan stood staring out the window. He leaned against the wall by the fireplace as if it was built to hold him up. He had one ankle crossed over the other, and his arms were folded over his chest. His clothes were pressed: polo shirt, white slacks, and loafers. His face was shaved: square jaw, as handsome as she’d thought earlier. Looking at him ended her easy, affectionate mood, replacing it with contradictory feelings she couldn’t name.

He turned when she came into the living room and arched one dark eyebrow. “Who were you talking to?”

“You don’t already know the answer?” Baylee strode past him. She paused and glanced back. He had a been-here-all-day look about him. She knew his type; he was probably between jobs. “So what are you, hanging here between acting gigs or something?” Tyler had a lot of incredibly successful friends, but they couldn’t all be movie stars. Logan had denied being an actor last night, but he probably meant he didn’t have a role right now. “Or is it a modeling gig?”

Logan stared at her as if judging whether to tell her his business. “I still haven’t caught your last name.” He spoke with slow, rolling tones. Not familiar Texas slow, but like he had all day to wait for her answer.

She didn’t have to tell him anything. And if she wanted to know something, she’d go straight to Tyler and quiz him. She strode into the main area, across the walnut floors and carpeted area rugs toward Tyler’s rooms.

Cello music floated down the hallway. The music screamed,
put me back in the instrument
,
I’m not in the hands of a master
. Baylee shuddered and slowed.

Footsteps faltered behind her, and Logan’s hand went to her back.

She’d heard so much amateur cello music these last few days. So much. “You’re not a cello teacher, are you?” Hope lit her voice.

Revulsion flitted over his face. “No. Thank God. You?”

“No.”

The cello cried out in anguish, and Baylee couldn’t make her feet walk toward the noise. Nothing was that important. She couldn’t remember why she wanted to talk to Tyler anyway. Baylee interlaced her fingers and stretched them overhead. She’d quiz Logan further herself. He’d stayed up here all day while the whole of Vegas waited out there to be explored. That was odd. It was as if he had a reason to hide. “What are you avoiding?”

A flush tinged his cheekbones, and he blinked. He was silent a minute then he said, “My family.” It was as if the words had been drawn out of him, like he didn’t know why he answered.

Okay. She hadn’t expected that.

“They have ties in town, so I’m debating hanging at the pool or just staying up here. What do you think?” Once he’d started, he seemed fine with telling her his plans.

What was he avoiding exactly? Her cousin Justin had stayed with them for a month until things ‘cooled down back home.’ Turned out his girlfriend was pregnant. Tyler had stayed with them a semester. He had a stalker. What did this guy have?

“What’d you do?” Her tone came out more accusing than she meant it, like the principal’s when faced with a student sent to his office.

Logan swiped a hand over his face. “Nothing.”

“Uh huh.”

“I swear. I have to make up my mind about something, and I need some time. That’s all.”

“What kind of thing?”

Logan waved his hand in the air as if brushing off everyone who’d asked him that question. “A job thing.”

Ah. Got it. His family wanted him to get a job and he didn’t want to. She’d gone to school with kids like that. “So does your family live here? They’re waiting for you here in town?”

He nodded and then shook his head. “Well. My stepmom and brother live here. My dad’s in California. It’s just that my family’s known here.”

“This isn’t some Vegas-mafia thing, is it?

Logan startled. “Of course not.” He turned back to the window overlooking the pool and fire pit. He was peering beyond them though, because he said, “There are cabanas at ground level. I can hang down there.”

“There are a thousand workers between here and there and a million cameras in the ceiling. If you don’t want to be seen, stay right where you are.” Camera footage was always showing up on paparazzi news shows. But if Logan truly just had a family thing, they wouldn’t be a problem. She’d definitely need to find out more about this guy, make sure he was telling her the whole truth.

She strode to the windows he’d been staring out of. Down below, the blue of the resort pool and lazy river dominated the scene. The tourists were specks from this distance and the white cabanas slightly larger dots. It was clear today and she could see beyond the skyscrapers and themed casinos, to the mountains in the background. It looked like a backdrop for an old western. It had probably been one. Amazing. She snapped a photo.

The cello sped up, turning Baylee from the view. “You’re not a musician, are you?”

Logan shook his head.

“Good.” The music reminded her that her own flute waited for her to practice. Baylee couldn’t make her feet walk toward her room. Playing the flute was something she thought she’d never have to do again after graduation. She didn’t need to go in her room anyway. Banging pans sounded from the kitchen, and she could smell the grill firing up.
Shocker. They were having steak.
When he’d stayed with them last year, Tyler hadn’t complained about her miniscule kitchen, with its cracked laminate floors, the tiny table, or the faded counters. Instead, he’d whined about the amount of chicken they ate.

Logan responded to the expression on her face. “My friends are getting together at the end of the week. Drake’s girlfriend Kira came to town early. She brought dinner.”

The Kira she’d met the airport hadn’t seemed the domestic type. “I think I’ll check that out.” She turned away and crossed the threshold into the kitchen: the décor had beams, rustic wood, cream counters and copper pots. Somehow the massive appliances fit the French country style. The room would actually be tasteful if it weren’t for the gargoyle sink fixture and the gargoyles mounted in every corner of the ceiling.

Kira had her red hair tied up in green ribbons, and she moved the pans around the stove with a speed that screamed foodie. Her eyes bugged when she saw Baylee, and she gave her one of those head-to-toe judgmental looks. “You’re staying here? As in here-here?”

She may be Drake’s girl, but she had an agenda. Why else had she come over?

None ya
. “True. I’m here.” Baylee eased the hair-tie off her wrist, knotted her hair on top of her head, and went to the double-sink to wash her hands. “What can I do to help?”