Accidental Billionaire (5 page)

“I’ll just be down here a minute,” Logan said.

He was going to get caught. “Whatever. I’m hitting the beach.” She checked the overhead signs for the one that led to the pool. Given the size of this place, it’d probably take another twenty minutes to walk there.

“Wait up.” Logan caught her arm, his hand warm and strong in the chilly air-conditioned lobby. “I’ve arranged something for you.” He pointed his coffee cup toward the entrance. “My friends are pouring into town later, but Kira still has some free time before they arrive. I emailed her and set up a surprise.” He raised his voice. “Kira. Over here.”

So discreet. He may as well post a snapshot of his coffee on Facebook. Yep, that was Kira and she was headed their way in response to Logan’s wave. Why was Kira always around him if she was his friend Drake’s girlfriend? Kira wore a crisp white geometric print dress and heels. Her put-together look stood out amidst the tourists clad in shorts and T-shirts or last night’s disco clothes and yesterday’s sunburn.

Kira air-kissed. “Logan.”

Here to do him another favor. Hmm, that was normal.

Logan stepped back and smiled at Baylee with straight teeth. “Kira can keep you company while I hang here.” He frowned toward the private elevator bank like hanging in the posh suite was a chore.

Kira opened her mouth as if to protest and closed it. She gestured to the marble walkway the other direction from where Logan was going. “It’s no problem, but too bad you can’t join us for a seaweed wrap. The spa here is divine. Drake swears by them.”

Ah, Kira did remember her boyfriend. And was a seaweed wrap spa food or a spa treatment? A wrap back home meant using tortillas for bread.

Logan shrugged a shoulder, kind of a manly wince. “He’s coming in with Fritz, right?” His tone was neutral when he said the name Fritz, which sort of gave away how he felt about the guy.

“Fritz is president.” Kira saluted. “He doesn’t have to fly in early to set things up. That’s Rawlings’ job. Well, Drake’s too, but like he’d show up early.”

People Baylee didn’t know. Drama she didn’t care about. She turned to ease away.

Logan was faster. His loafers ate the distance between them and the elevators and he spoke over his shoulder, “Okay, see you two later. Kira will tell you about the plans.”

Kira looked annoyed that Logan was leaving. Now weaseling away would be rude. Great. Baylee tried a weak smile and strove for an excuse to get away.

Kira turned her full attention on Baylee for the first time. She assessed her chipped pedicure, flip flops, outfit, and hairdo. She missed nothing. “You
do
need a spa day. Any day’s a good day for a spa day, I say. What do you think? Would Sax want to spa with us?”

“No.”

“Fritz would. Drake, too. Loads of guys spa.” Kira pointed her black leather handbag at the elevator bank. “Logan ran against Fritz for president. Fritz won. Boys and their battles.”

“So you’re in this social club with them?”

Kira’s somewhat fake grin got faker. “Not exactly. It’s sort of like we’re in a social group together, and then you get nominated to inner circles and inner circles. You know.”

“Not really.”

“Well, it’s hard to explain, but everyone in our group would get it. It’s a big deal to be invited to Vegas; it puts me on a new level.”

She could sort of see that. Like the high school cafeteria, who sat where had meaning. “I guess I get it.”

“Yeah. Making a party is a thing, getting invited out of state and flown here is a bigger thing. Getting invited somewhere even more exotic would be the next step. And that’s an even bigger thing.”

It was getting cold there in the lobby, dressed for the pool, listening to Kira going on about her social circles. “I’d better get going. Kind of already have plans. Thanks anyway, you enjoy the spa without me.”

Kira was looking back toward the elevator with a thoughtful expression. “Must be nice.”

Had she not heard her say she was leaving? How did she shake someone like this? “What’s that?”

Kira opened her purse and spritzed on a lemony perfume with her atomizer. “Hello. A St. John just opened up his wallet so you’d have a good day. Yeah.”

Baylee didn’t know where to start with that. “I’ve really got plans. Thanks anyway.” She strode toward the overhead signs, trying to figure if the arrow was pointing through the lobby or through the shopping mall and if a lounge chair could really be called plans.

Kira caught up to her. “Hold up.” She tucked a stray hair into her auburn braids. “You really scored. Logan arranged a treat. Not just money like my family has money, but money-money. St. John means money. Not ten-dollar table money. Private table and helicopter money.” She made chopper blade sounds, seeming to have lost her pensiveness.

“Ah.” In Texas, it was cattle money or oil money. Baylee wondered how that compared, but didn’t really care.

The line in front of the check-in counters was at least fifty people deep. There were twenty counters, so it was moving fast, but she did not want to get in that line just to ask directions. The way to the pool was probably through the mall. Baylee eyed the customers, looking for other towel-carriers. The people on the marble-floors moved with purpose. Once they hit the carpeted casino, they slowed down and checked out the action, like fish swimming around the hook. Was that…? Dad? No way.

She drew closer. “Dad?”

“Baylee Girl.” Dad turned from the casino and strode toward her, wearing one of his navy work suits. Even with Mom’s warning, seeing him was surreal. Baylee gave him a surprised and somewhat awkward hug.

Seeing as Kira hadn’t left, she introduced him. “This is my father, Burke Grattan.” They shook hands. She wanted to quiz Dad as to why he was here. It was just so weird, but it was an even weirder question to ask with a stranger listening.

Kira had a confident air, not unlike Logan’s. She didn’t squirm and look guilty like most of her friends did when they met a parent. She looked Dad straight in the eye. “You two look just alike,” Kira said. “Two peas in a Mendel pod.”

No, they didn’t.

Her father smiled a practiced smile. “Baylee’s all her mother.”

Baylee hoped so.

Kira tilted her head. “You two planning a special day?”

Nope. Mom probably texted Dad the name of her hotel, and he’d probably stopped by because he hadn’t had the gall to admit he’d lost her number. They both protected Mom that way.

“I’m in town on business and thought I’d check out where my little girl’s staying.” Dad gazed across the lobby. Several four-foot tall seashells held live models dressed like mermaids. The center of the lobby had a giant statue of a trident-wielding Poseidon, and above him was a blue ocean wave chandelier. A group of middle-aged tourists passed between them and the lobby, laughing, smelling like smoke, and carrying foot-long drinks shaped like the hotels: an Eiffel Tower glass, a pyramid, a Roman column. It was five o’clock somewhere.

Dad slapped the side of his leg. “Quite the abode. Fortunate girl, eh?”

“This is one of the top casinos in town,” Kira said. “And you won’t believe what Baylee has scheduled. A $3000 spa day.”

“Three thousand?” Baylee stared at Kira. What did they want to do to her? Replace a body part?

Dad whistled through his teeth. “Real lucky girl.”

Kira made a motion like she was pulling down the handle of a slot machine, complete with cha-ching sounds. “Jackpot.”

Baylee worked her jaw.

“Who’s footing the bill?” Dad glanced around for the banker.

“Logan St. John.” Kira said his name like she was name-dropping. “We graduated Mass Erskine Prep. Together. Last month.”

Dad’s eyebrows arched, and he gave another thin whistle. “St. John? He sort out stuff for that rock star?”

Baylee’s jaw tightened.

“Oh no.” Kira motioned like she was wringing out a dishtowel. “Your daughter squeezed the spa day out of Logan.”

“Gotcha.” Dad nodded with a smile, then his face blanked and his eyes brightened with recognition. “
St. John.
Ah.” He and Kira shared a knowing look.

It was like everyone was in on a secret and no one had bothered to fill Baylee in. She didn’t care for the feeling. “Keep the spa day. Like I said, I have other plans.”

Kira widened her eyes and shook her head. “It’s not only a spa. The email said boutiques, too. And a personal shopper. An allowance of ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand dollars. That’s not bad.”

Dad whistled again and turned a speculative look on her. “That’s a lot of change, girl. Thirteen thousand dollars total.” He did math awfully fast as long as child support wasn’t involved. The call of the slots competed with the tourists chatting in the background and the dealers at the table. Dad whistled again. All of it was annoying. Who threw thirteen thousand dollars around? Who threw that around on a friend he just met? Baylee rubbed her temple.

“Moving in quite the circles there, aren’t you?” Dad sounded impressed.

The whole thing was ick. “I’m not going.”

Kira made a strangled noise, one matched by Dad. She clutched her handbag to her chest. “I’ve arranged it. You have to go.”

Dad held up his palm. “Don’t be hasty. That St. John kid wouldn’t offer if he couldn’t afford it. The St. Johns own that record label your rock star works at. And that’s only part of their empire. A few K is chump change to them. Like you buying a lotto ticket.”

Ridiculous. All of it. “Just cancel, Kira. Dad, I’ll see you later. Text me before you leave.” Dad texting right before he left town was his specialty. That way he’d made contact, but he didn’t have to put himself out. She shook off the thought. After the hundredth time of it happening, she’d come to terms with it. Her father didn’t surprise her.

Logan. He surprised her. She’d be doing a little background search of her own today if the hotel pool had Wi-Fi. A light afternoon of heavy Internet stalking. Uncaring if they thought her rude, Baylee dashed off as fast as her flip-flops allowed, which, after one small stumble, was fairly fast.

Hours later, she’d found loads of online articles about the St. John fortune, the St. John old-world style, and the St. John divorces. The press had a fixation on them that bordered on stalker-ish. Now she knew why Logan thought he’d be spotted. Logan was the product of marriage number one. He had enough money for several thousand dollar coffees – a billion-dollar inheritance from his mother’s family that he got when she’d passed away after a massive car wreck.

With that sad thought in mind, she called her mom and was finishing the call when she spotted Logan. He was doing laps. He pulled himself from the pool and prowled her way. Water dripped off him, evaporating against the hot concrete. Heads turned. Yep, no one was noticing him. He had the instincts of a baby possum, blind and vulnerable.

Baylee spoke into her phone, “I need to go practice. Let me let you go.”

“Okay, dear,” Mom said. “I’m thrilled you got to see your dad.”

“Yeah, bye,” was the best she could do. The misting fans blew across her, attempting to fight the desert heat, but after spending hours out here, her skin was feeling tight, hot, and gritty from the desert sand under the chair. It was time to go up. She wanted a shower, to check out exactly how much of her new suntan was actually sunburn and to remove herself from temptation.

“Have fun shopping?” Logan drawled.

Baylee stood and Logan sank onto her lounger, running his towel over his hair, making it stick up. He was staring at her green bikini with the pink lizard ties on the hips.

“Do I look like I spent the day shopping?”

Logan reached a finger out to one of the ties and grinned. “I’ve been getting alerts on your progress via my credit card. So, yeah, I’d say you made a pretty good stab at reducing the hotel’s debt. Did I buy that?”

He really thought she‘d gone to town on his dime? She slapped at his hand, irritated at the heat, irritated at him for no real reason, and irritated at life for putting him out of reach. “No.” She scooted away. His family would not blend in with hers, at all. Her Internet search had shown her that. “It wasn’t me. You should double check those alerts.”

Logan balanced his arms on his spread knees and grinned. “You can wear one of your new outfits for me tonight.”

It was like he hadn’t heard her, and that made her hesitate before taking off. She stepped closer. She swiped her palm over her right arm, and then she left. Sand sprinkled down onto his wet skin.

Logan grinned bigger. “Sand?”

“Do I look like I spent the day shopping at the mall?” Baylee gestured to her dirty hair tied up in horns. “Getting highlights at the spa?”

“Receipts don’t lie.”

Baylee leaned forward. “
I
don’t lie.” She stepped even closer, getting in his space. Logan didn’t back off even though she was oily with coconut-scented sunscreen and sand-dusted. “I’m not hiding from my family or the press.” She looked around at the crowd. The young mom chasing the screaming two-year-old, the old guy with the panama hat and the beer, and the waitress dressed up like a seagull. They probably liked having no nanny, drinking domestic beer, and wearing a seagull costume in this heat while guests lulled around in swimsuits. None of them would trade Logan’s location for money. Here he was, out in daylight, with a sky-rise worth of rooms looking down on him. “Are you even serious about hiding?” Her irritation grew and her voice raised. “Why are you even here? You’re not a musician. You’re not even from here. Are you?”

“Neither are you. Baylee from Leithville. Eighteen years old. Recent graduate.”

“You think you know me.” Maybe he ran a background check, but he didn’t find out more about her than she found out about him on the Internet.

“I do know you. Five feet four and a half inches tall. Marching Band. Good grades. Loads of electives and volunteer work.” He raised an index finger. “But only in the fall. Shifts at Leithville lizard factory in the spring. Doubles in the summer.” He shifted back on his palms. He seemed to be playing, not recognizing how intrusive he was being.

Anger pulsed through her sunburned skin like another person had jumped inside her, one wearing a seagull costume in this heat, flapping its wings. Her breathing became audible and her chest rose and fell faster. “What else did that report tell you?”