Accidental Billionaire (4 page)

Kira made clawing motions with all ten of her fingers. “How are you with peeling?”

“Crawdads or peaches?”

“Louisiana? Georgia?” Kira asked. “You don’t sound all mint-julipy on the front porch.”

“Texas.”

“Ah.” Kira gestured toward a bowl of brown-skinned potatoes.

“We have those, too.” Baylee carried the bowl over to the farmhouse table.

“How do you know Logan?” Kira said his name slowly as if marinating it. She handed Baylee a potato peeler.

“We just met. You’re dating his friend?”

“Uh huh. Drake. Drake-ee and I are both from Ohio, land of the O.” Kira tilted her head toward the stove. “I’m helping Logan out by cooking, and Sax, too, if he’s here, of course. I didn’t know there’d be four of us, but I brought plenty.”

“That’s nice.”

Kira pursed her lips and tilted her head down. “So you know Sax Grayson?”

“Yeah.”

Kira nodded. “He’s fab. Love him. Saw him play in Manhattan, and at a show in LA. He can sing on my sheets anytime.”

“He’s dating a friend of mine.

“Sure. Sure. I’m just saying.”

“You’re in town to meet your boyfriend?”

“Something like that. I’m going with Drake to the club bash this weekend.” Kira made clicking sounds with the steak tongs and swiveled her hips. “Par-tay.”

“What kind of club?”

Kira cupped one side of her mouth and looked at the door as if to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. “Rich kid social club. Like rich-rich.”

They didn’t have those in her town, unless she counted the good ‘ol boy sports boosters.

Kira turned up the heat on the grill. “Drake’s family handles exports. Not what you’d expect from Ohio, right? But there’s bank in that. Logan’s family is into tech and music.” She wiggled her thin eyebrows. “Real money there, if you know what I mean.”

Baylee peeled the cold potato while Kira told her how the hotel retained private chefs to send up for important clients like the record label, but there was nothing like a home-cooked meal. She lay steaks on the heated grill and they sizzled. “How do you like your beef?” She sprinkled salt and pepper on the meat as she spoke.

“Well done, thanks.”

Kira jabbed a skewer at the wall. She mouthed,
smoking
. “Logan’s a hot side of beef. Right?”

Heat hit Baylee’s face, and she didn’t respond.

Kira arched her already high eyebrows. “You two together? As in together-together?”

Baylee opened her mouth to deny any togetherness, but Logan came into the kitchen and took a seat across from her, ending the conversation. She and Kira got silent, but Kira’s posture grew straighter and her movements more flamboyant.

After another potato, Baylee got a knife for Logan. He frowned in concentration but peeled without protest. His hands were capable, but inexperienced. This told her he wasn’t a hunter, a fisherman, or mom’s kitchen helper.

Logan lifted his head. “Are you really adding flute to a rock song?”

Tyler had added the flute part to accommodate the one instrument she played. It was sweet, but it was going to be so lame. Lame with a global platform and public reviews. She did not want to record it. Baylee raised her right shoulder. “Meh.”

Alertness sharpened his eyes. “You’re not into music?”

Rainstorm eyes. She did love a rainstorm. Baylee rubbed her eyebrow. She made a noncommittal noise. Logan cut a sliver of raw potato and lifted it to his mouth like he was Scarlett O’Hara in the fields.

Baylee swatted his hand. “You can’t eat that.” She scooped up the wide stainless steel bowl full of peeled potatoes and took it to Kira.

Logan spoke to her back, “Tyler told me to watch out for you. Said, ‘Vegas will chew you up, spit you out, and steal your shoes.’ That right, Kira?”

Kira swished her tongs through the air as if they were a wand. “With the speed of a magician’s hands.”

Vegas — thirty dollar buffets and five-dollar steak joints side by side. It was weird, and incredible. But she was from Texas, home to Houston, Dallas, San Antonio, and Austin. She’d seen skyscrapers, tourists, and high prices before. “I can handle Vegas.”

“Nah.” Logan took out his smart phone and spoke as he typed, “I’ll look out for you tomorrow.”

The dude had been inside one day and he was breaking. He had no sense of self-preservation. He had the instincts of a person who texted naked-selfies. Baylee put her hand over his screen, making him look up. “You can’t leave the apartment, Logan. And I’m in Vegas. I’m not hanging inside.”

“Where are you going? I’ll take you.”

She instinctively shook her head. Tomorrow she was going total tourist: taking pictures of the MGM Grand, riding in a gondola, and checking out the Luxor. “You’re not getting caught because of me. Unless you’ll have resolved that…” She glanced at Kira and lowered her voice, “…family thing by morning.”

“I’ve got until Friday.” Logan frowned and checked his phone. “Tyler says you should be recording.”

Kira’s face grew animated. She checked out Baylee and jumped back into the conversation. “So, what, are you like a rock star? Like Sax?”

“Nope.”

Her face fell.

Logan rubbed his arms and crossed them over his chest. “Are you nervous about recording?”

“Sort of.” She clipped her words, making it clear she did not want to discuss it. What could she say? Hi, I’m Baylee, I play a mean flute, but I’m no world-class musician, not like my friends.

Logan raised his chin. He typed in his phone. “I’ll help you out. You’ll be at the studio in no time.”

“That’s not necessary.” She pasted on a fake smile. “Thanks so much for the offer though.” She caught Kira’s gaze and rolled her eyes.

Kira winked a glitter-covered eyelid at her. She flipped the steaks, and the air steamed. “How do you like your steak, Logan?” She made the question sound suggestive, which was creepy.

Logan jerked upright, and his eyes lit, but they were on the grill rather than Kira. “Medium, please. Thanks for doing this. You didn’t have to.”

Kira winked. “That’s me, Kira, maker of meals.”

Logan looked at Baylee. “And helping you gear up to perform is no problem. It helps Tyler. It helps you.”

“Great.” He didn’t seem to catch the sarcasm.

Tyler came in when all the prep work was done. He had a man’s talent for that, showing up when the cooking was complete. Tyler dropped his cello bow on the table and leaned against the back of a chair. “You guys making my supper?” He sounded delighted.

“Yep.” Baylee nodded at the bow. “Horse hair off the table.”

Tyler moved the bow to the shiny granite counter. She figured that was Kira’s battle. If Kira wanted the instrument off the counter, she’d have to say something herself. From the way she was half gaping, half pretending not to stare at Tyler, she wouldn’t be correcting him anytime soon. “How’s the cello going?”

“I’m amazing. Aria says I’m really getting it.”

His girlfriend Aria loved him. Baylee gave him a supportive smile. “Well, being a master cello-ist will take time.”

Tyler spun the sturdy wooden chair around and straddled it. “Cellist.”

“Cellist.”

Tyler nodded at Logan. “At least I got her to stop calling it
the big ass violin
.” He snickered and flattened his palms on the table. “And how’s the fluting?”

Baylee raised her right shoulder. “Meh.”

Tyler’s fingers didn’t stay flat long; they began tapping, one of his usual habits. “Ethan said to tell you ‘hey’ and to text him sometime.”

She’d gone to high school with Ethan, even dated him once, but they were just friends. Ethan didn’t need any encouragement. Baylee made a noncommittal noise.

Logan frowned. “Ethan?”

No one answered him.

“Who’s Ethan again?” Logan spoke louder.

“Dude in my band,” Tyler said. “Baylee’s going to date him.”

“No, I’m not.”

Tyler heeded the warning in her tone and changed the conversation.

Kira stayed and ate with them. She lingered after, talking and talking, about nothing. She flirted, too, but it was subtle, nothing she could be called on. And she invited them to go clubbing. Well, she invited all of them, but she was looking at the guys. Tyler bowed out to call his girlfriend. Logan told her he already had plans. He told her that while walking her to the door and thanking her. It took thirty more minutes to get her out of the foyer.

Afterwards, Baylee grabbed a book and headed into the game room.

Logan followed and lifted a pool stick. He spun it between his palms. “Game?”

Baylee shook her head and yawned. “Jet lag.” She flipped the page, but the book didn’t keep her interest

Logan leaned against the table, not making a move. “Want to hit a club?”

“You told Kira we were staying in.”

He shrugged.

A flash of excitement sat her up straighter. Yeah, clubbing with Logan would be fun. “Did you call your family?”

“Nah. But it’s not like they hang at the over-eighteen clubs.”

“Are you trying to get caught?”

“No.” Logan pouted and racked the balls.

Baylee headed to the door. “Guess we’re not going then.”

“Fine. Good night, Ms. Steele.”

That stopped her. “You know my last name.”

“I was seeing how long you’d try to keep it from me.”

Annoyance bubbled away her sleepiness. “And you gave up? Couldn’t handle the game for the long haul? So you asked Tyler?”

“I called the record label.”

Kira said his family had music ties. “Is your family connected to Tyler’s label?”

He nodded.

Dude knew nothing about stealth. “And you don’t want to see your family?”

He scowled and sank the eight ball. “Not right now.”

Baylee yawned and dragged herself out into the living room. She had her hair in horns, hadn’t put her contacts in yet, and wore her pink lizard PJs. Her buddy was already up.

Tyler wore jeans, a T-shirt, and sunglasses, ready to go for the day. His hair was shower-wet. “Baylee. Thank God. The driver will be here in ten. Early breakfast meeting. Will you make me coffee?”

“I’m not your mother.”

“Like my mom would wear her hair like that.”

“Forget it now, I was going to make you some but…”

He hooked an arm around her waist and nuzzled her hair like an overgrown puppy. “Please.”

Baylee wanted to grumble. She didn’t even drink coffee. She only knew how to brew it because Dad drank it. She shrugged him off. “Fine.” She continued her stumble into the kitchen to start coffee for Tyler and tea for herself.

When she returned, Logan was kicked back on the couch, dressed and pressed. He stared from her glass to Tyler’s mug. “I’d love a cup of coffee.”

Maybe Kira waited on them like they needed to be catered to, but that wasn’t her. “I’d love for the Houston Astros to win the World Series.”

Tyler snickered. He took a drink. “Thanks. This is good.” He checked out her appearance. “You make a great cup of coffee. Good thing you don’t fix yourself up. If you bothered, I’d have to beat the guys off you.”

That was incredibly annoying.

“Baylee’s beautiful.” Logan blurted the words, like he hadn’t meant to, like he was confused by Tyler’s insult. It was sweet and weird at the same time.

Tyler snickered again and tried to pat her horns. She dodged him, and he took out his phone. “Hey, Aria. You up?” He walked away from them. “Baylee made me coffee. She says
hi
.”

Logan leaned into the couch and yawned.

Neither of them acknowledged his compliment.

He stared at her drink. “A thousand dollars for a cup.”

Now he was just screwing with her.
“Ha. Ha.”

“Two thousand.” His eyes were dead serious.

Baylee took a sip of her tea. Sweet. Bracing. Logan’s words penetrated her brain as the caffeine kicked in. OMG.
No one paid a thousand dollars for a cup of coffee.
He wasn’t asking for
a cup of coffee.
In Las Vegas, a
cup of coffee
meant something else. Some freaky sex thing. “Pervert.” Baylee flipped him off and left the living room. She yelled out to Tyler, “Have a great day, Ty. Tell Aria I’ll email her back later.”

“And Ethan?”

“Nope.”

When she returned, Logan was gone. She had a sneaking suspicion where he was. She threw on her clothes, which meant she put on a swimsuit under shorts and a T-shirt, grabbed sunscreen, and headed out. All that staring out at the pool yesterday put the idea in her mind to go there. Plus, she hadn’t slept well and thoughts of the water and a lounge chair on top of desert sand called her, but only after she sorted Logan out.

She went down to the coffee kiosk. Pinging from the slot machines accompanied the hiss of the espresso maker as the barista went to town on the orders. The line was ten customers deep. The guy in the back bounced on his feet like he’d already had four cups. The yawning girl in front of him had pulled an all-nighter: cocktail dress, hair coming down from her up-do. Her bloodshot gaze was on Logan.

Logan was stirring sugar into his drink over by the napkins. He didn’t seem to notice the girl in line checking him out. His focus was entirely on his beverage.

Baylee should have left it alone but she couldn’t help herself, she was drawn to him. “What are you doing out of the suite?”

“I needed coffee.”

“I’d have made you some.” She wouldn’t. But she’d have shown him how to make some. “I’ll teach you later tonight.” He’d bought a large. “What’d that cost?”

He shrugged. “I gave her a ten.”

Baylee checked the board. “You gave her a fifty percent tip?” He was the one who needed looking out for. “You paid too much. Twenty percent is good.”

Logan snickered. “I’d have paid a thousand.” He took a sip, and his shoulders eased.

“Ha. Ha.”

“Two thousand.” His expression was dead serious. He had his coffee in both hands like she’d take it from him.

OMG.

Vegas was taking someone for a ride, and it wasn’t her.

“You need to go back to the penthouse.” Baylee waved the sunscreen at one of the black bubbles in the ceiling. “Cameras everywhere, remember?” She gestured to the lobby. “People everywhere.” In Leithville, if she did anything, it got back to Mom.
‘We saw Baylee picking up hair dye. You’re not going to let her dye her hair, are you?’ We saw Baylee with that boy Tyler. Is he her cousin, you say? They don’t look alike, but they do act like brother and sister.’
None of the stuff was ever bad, but just all those people all in her business, blech. It gave her sympathy for Logan, and whatever was going on. As big as Vegas was, it had something in common with her small town. It had one main street, the strip. The strip probably had the same grapevine as Leithville.