July's Fourth (BBW & Billionaire) Page 2

  “Welcome to Las Vegas, and have a wonderful fourth of July!” the flight attendant crowed over the PA system.

  Chapter Three

  The Vault

  When we landed, I was surprised to see my phone light up with text messages from Tiffani and Erica.

  Huh. They must be really bored.

  The texts were all pleading with me to join them at The Vault that evening. They really were bitches, but the thought that I had free drink tickets to The Vault also crossed my mind.

  Why not? I figured.

  I saw it as an opportunity to maybe get tipsy with them and bury the hatchet. Perhaps they weren’t as bad as they seemed at work. And, if we bonded, maybe it would be easier to work with them once we got back. Wasn’t that the point of this trip, after all? To spend some laid-back quality time with co-workers?

  As everyone jostled to get off the plane, I heard one final comment from James L. Beauregard the third.

  “Have a good trip, July…”

  What a freakin’ weirdo. I didn’t even turn around to respond; the guy was clearly crazy. He’d been ignoring me for upwards of seven hours and I was just glad to be rid of him.

  And it felt amazing to stretch after so many hours of sitting in confined spaces. After jogging down to baggage claim, grabbing my luggage, and hopping into a cab, I was excited and raring to go. There had been some drama, but it was going to be a great vacation—I was sure of it.

  My hotel room was incredible. Because of some FBI convention, they had run out of the standard rooms and upgraded me to a suite.

  “Upgraded to first class, then a suite, okay, this is not so bad!” I whispered to myself as I walked into the room.

  A beautiful red, white, and blue floral arrangement sat on the front table.

  They really go all out for the rich people, don’t they? I thought. It was like a whole different world when you were wealthy, a world filled with holiday-themed floral arrangements.

  Meanwhile, my phone continued to light up with text messages from Erica and Tiffani, who were already at the Vault. I took a shower in the incredibly luxurious bathroom, made sure to use their expensive body lotion, and made myself up before hopping into my little black dress. Incidentally, it was the same dress that I’d worn the night I made out with Nick Sweetzer. My best friend liked to say that it made my tits look amazing. After ensuring that everything was in place and looking hot, I set off to meet the Bitch Brigade in Sin City.

  And then I arrived at The Vault.

  What was it about Vegas clubs that could make even the most confident woman feel insignificant? I pondered. After some reflection, I figured it out; it was the hoards of half-naked women parading around with their asses out. (Duh!) Now, most of them had fantastic bodies, but part of me wanted to tap them on their shoulders and say, “Hey, did you realize that your ENTIRE butt cheek is visible?”

  Anyway, I felt immediately self-conscious as soon as I got in line. And, yes, there was a ginormous line. As I waited for over thirty minutes, I had time to reevaluate my wardrobe choices for the evening (were the ridiculously gorgeous, strappy high heels that necessary?). Finally, after watching groups of skinny women sashay past the velvet ropes without a moment’s delay, I was admitted into the club.

  Then, after ascending the escalator, I walked into the giant, cavernous club to see Tiffani and Erica right in front of the bar taking selfies, so I made a beeline for them. When I got there, I was pretty surprised by how shitfaced they already were—Tiffani more so than Erica.

  “Heyyyyyy, July,” Tiffani slurred.

  “Hey, Tiff!”

  “Can I borrow one of your drink tickets? I’ve already blazed through all of mine,” Tiffani moaned, running a hand through her damaged blond hair.

  Behind her, Erica was surreptitiously shaking her head “no”. Obviously she didn’t want to baby-sit Tiffani for the rest of the evening.

  “I’m having the worst night,” Tiffani complained. “Nick won’t even respond to any of my texts…”

  Wait…Nick?!?

  “Uh…who’s Nick?” I asked nonchalantly.

  “Nick Sweetzer,” Erica replied, rolling her eyes. “You know, that guy in Creative? They’ve been sleeping together for a few months, and now he’s really messing with Tiff’s mind, you know, sending her instant messages all day every day.”

  My Nick?!?!

  “Oh geez…” I was speechless.

  “It started at the happy hour where we met the Chicago team,” Tiffani drunkenly bragged. “That was the first night we hooked up.”

  Of course.

  The same happy hour where I’d made out with Nick.

  I was stunned. I mean, as much as I thought Nick might be a player, I’d had no idea how bad he actually was. And part of me was really disappointed. Who knew how many other co-workers he was stringing along? Granted, I never thought we’d end up married, but maybe have some sort of illicit office affair…DAMN. Talk about a manipulative guy.

  “Uh…I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, Tiff, because—“

  Just as I was making up an excuse, a security guard came over.

  Oh, God. Is Tiffani getting us kicked out of the club already?

  “Ladies, there is a table of gentleman requesting that you join them,” he said.

  From far away, I could see them—a table of hot guys in the bottle service section of the club. They all looked semi-recognizable, but I couldn’t place them.

  “Are they—“ Erica said.

  “Yes, it’s the cast of Vampire Class,” the security guard replied.

  Ah, it made sense now. Vampire Class was a popular show with the teenybopper crowd.

  “Sure! Fuck it!” Tiffani said drunkenly. “If Nick’s not gonna text me back, then I’ll fuck the whole cast!”

  Oh. My. God.

  I walked right behind Tiffani, afraid that she might do something she’d regret. That was when the security guard said it.

  “I’m sorry, but they only requested that these two come,” he said, indicating Erica and Tiffani.

  At this point, we were right in front of the bottle service section.

  “Wait…what?!” Erica said.

  To her credit, she seemed as shocked as I was.

  “They requested,” the security guard continued. “…that only you two accompany me to the bottle service area. Your friend is not the type we normally invite to this section. Now you can either come, or not come.”

  My heart sank. I’d never felt so ugly and embarrassed in my entire life. Rejected by the cast of Vampire Class?!? Really?

  “It’s fine, Erica,” I said. “You guys go ahead without me.”

  I’ll just be humiliated for the rest of the evening.

  “No, but that’s messed up,” Erica was saying. She definitely seemed frazzled by the whole scenario, but she was attempting to hold Tiffani back as she talked to me.

  And Tiffani was so drunk that she probably didn’t even hear the whole brouhaha. Barreling into the VIP section, Tiffani left us both in the dust. Understandably, Erica followed.

  “Wait here, July. I’m gonna see what the hell’s going on,” she said. “I just…have to make sure she doesn’t do anything dumb! I’m really sorry!” she called out over her shoulder.

  It was so horrifying. Erica, fierce member of the Bitch Brigade, felt bad for me. That was how unattractive I was.

  But then…something inside of me snapped. Because I knew it wasn’t true. I’d looked in the mirror that evening, and I was hot! Who was this security guard to tell me what I could and couldn’t do? Who was he to judge me? He got a mouthful of Milwaukee as I gracefully departed the bottle service section.

  “You know what?” I said, staring at his gut. “You might want to reevaluate your own weight situation, you ugly fatass! You’re fat and ugly!”

  And…that was how I got thrown out of The Vault.

  Scratch that.

  That was how I almost got thrown out of The Vault. Because just as I was being
manhandled and tossed outside the velvet ropes, someone grabbed me from the side.

  “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” I heard the familiar snooty voice as I felt my body pitching forward.

  “She called Sven an ugly fatass!” one of the security guards complained.

  “Sven probably IS an ugly fatass,” the man continued. “I need you to let go of her immediately.”

  As I turned to face my unlikely savior, my knees started to shake uncontrollably.

  No. It couldn’t be…

  But it was.

  James L. Beauregard the third, to the rescue.

  And he looked even more handsome in a suit.

  Chapter Four

  The Talk

  “I bet you feel like you really have the upper hand now,” I said, as he led me back into The Vault.

  “No, I don’t…” he replied. “I’m really sorry you were treated that way. Come on, let me buy you a drink in the VIP section.”

  “That’s where Sven works,” I said, my eyes welling up with tears. “They said I couldn’t come in because I was too fat.”

  “What?!?” He shook his head and then grabbed my hand, pulling me close to him. “I’m not talking about the bottle service section. That’s strictly for idiots who want to pay thousands of dollars for fifty bucks’ worth of alcohol.”

  “Well what are you talking about?”

  “Just come with me,” he said, leading me back through the club to a small tunnel.

  “Ummm…are you gonna abduct me?” I laughed nervously. “It’s kind of creepy back here.”

  And then we entered a dimly lit room that appeared to be an old speakeasy. The bartender, who was wearing suspenders, mixed up custom cocktails while bopping his head to the live band. With just a torch singer and a few guys on bass and drums, the band was sparse but had a big sound. The room smelled like leather…and heaven.

  There were about twenty people there, and I could recognize the vast majority of them from films.

  “Whoa…” My head was about to explode. Where was I?

  “It’s cool, right? Here, let me get you a Moscow Mule,” he said. “That’s the specialty here, and they’re amazing.”

  I dug into my purse. “You treated me at the airport. Here are a couple of drink vouchers.”

  He laughed. “Uh…I think they just take cash back here. It’s kind of a secret thing, you know? But I’m sure we can pay it forward and find some deserving folks to take your drink tickets when we leave.”

  We? This had been the craziest day of my life.

  “I’m Beau, by the way,” he said, sticking his hand out.

  “Oh, right!” Interesting…He went by Beau, not James. “And I’m—”

  “July!” he smiled, his entire face lighting up. “Here, have a seat in the booth! I’m gonna go get our drinks!”

  The whole thing made me wonder whether or not I was crazy. He had been so rude before. Was I dreaming? He came back about five minutes later, fancy drinks in hand.

  “Anyway, I’m so sorry about that idiot security guard,” he said, shaking his head. “God, what a dunce.”

  “Do you…uh…own this place or something?” I asked, taking a sip of my drink.

  “I’m a shareholder,” he replied. “In the casino. I need to talk to them about this stupid club. Aside from this little corner of heaven, it’s a complete mess,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Is there anything you don’t own?” I smiled.

  “What?” His eyebrows shot up.

  “You own the airline, you own this casino…”

  “Oh! Ha!” He took a sip of his drink. “Yes, there are plenty of things I don’t own.” And then I felt his fingers gently brush over my hand.

  What the hell is going on here?

  The drink was making me super tipsy already, and Beau’s beautiful eyes were making me more than a little nervous.

  “I thought you hated me!” The drink was giving me loose lips and my true feelings were starting to surface. “Today, on the plane…”

  “Oh, God, I need to apologize for that,” he said, putting his head in his hands. “I’m so sorry. I was a complete jerk. Been dealing with some work issues with this foundation we have in Africa.”

  “Wow…Africa. What’s going on there?”

  “Clean water thing, you know,” he said casually. “We’re building these wells and stuff, and there are issues with neighboring villages and warlords, yada yada…”

  “Warlords. Wow. That…definitely sounds intense,” I smiled.

  “And, uh, I have some issues in my personal life, too. My—” He looked like he was going to say something, but then stopped himself.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if it might have been about the phone call I had eavesdropped on earlier. Girl problems.

  “I’m sorry,” I replied simply.

  Of course I wanted to know more, but it seemed like there was no covert way to ask.

  “Anyway, I’m a jerk,” he said, leaning forward. His eyes were so beautiful that it was disconcerting. “I was rude to a beautiful woman for several hours, and I wanted to know how I could make it up to her.”

  “Well, this isn’t a bad start,” I grinned. “Rescuing me from the evil security guy didn’t hurt.”

  “So what’s your story, July?”

  As soon as I opened my mouth to answer him, the band kicked in at high gear, playing their hearts out. I immediately recognized the song.

  “Wait…is this that David Lee Roth song?” I shouted over the din.

  The torch singer stepped out in front, belting her lungs out.

  “I ain’t got nobody/Nobody cares for me/That’s why I’m sad and lonely/Won’t some sweet Daddy come take a chance with me?”

  “Actually, this song’s been around for a hundred years,” Beau smiled, holding out his arm. “Care to dance?”

  “Uh…” My protestations were inaudible over the loud band, and Beau just grabbed my arm and pulled me onto the floor.

  “Let’s do this!”

  Now, I didn’t know swing dancing moves or anything like that, but suddenly Beau was twirling me in every direction. And it was fun! I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been swept away by someone on a dance floor. Beau was a surprisingly talented dancer.

  With every dip and twirl, I was falling deeper into his web of seduction…or was it seduction? I couldn’t tell if he was attracted to me, or just felt bad that I’d almost been booted from the club. Either way, he was convincing. And I wanted, no, needed, to be distracted.

  And distract me he did. When he pulled me close into his body, my hand accidentally brushed his pants below the belt…and I could feel that he was hard.

  For a second, I was completely mortified. Would Beau think that I’d done it on purpose?

  But if he noticed the slight touch, he didn’t seem to care. In fact, he twirled me even faster. Feeling dizzy from all of the whirling around, I leaned in even closer to him.

  As the torch singer continued to belt out the festive tune, I looked up into Beau’s beautiful blue-green eyes. Then, like a dream, I could see his face moving closer to mine. Within a few seconds, our lips touched for the first time. His were so soft and inviting. I could feel my entire body stirring to life as the kiss deepened, and Beau grabbed me from beneath the waist and pulled me closer to him.

  Oh my…

  Everything about him was intoxicating…his skin, those incredible eyes, that body…It felt like I was melting into him as the club spun around him, like he had stopped time.

  “Do you wanna get out of here?” he whispered in my ear.

  I nodded quickly. “Yes. I have a suite here.”

  “Great,” he smiled, his tone sending a tingle down my spine as we walked out together.

  As we left the speakeasy club and went through the tunnel towards the regular area, Beau got behind me, putting a protective hand on my shoulder. He was so close to me that I could feel how excited he was, and I loved it.

&
nbsp; I’m going to have sex with this man, the hottest man I’ve ever seen…

  My mind whirled. Then something even more amazing happened. As we cruised out the front doors and down the escalator, some familiar faces caught sight of me and Beau. Erica and Tiffani were sitting on the floor, and it looked as though Erica was still attempting to nurse Tiffani back to sobriety. She had a cup of water in her hand and was attempting to pour it down Tiff’s throat when she recovered from her initial shock and finally said hi to me.

  “Hey, Erica!” I said brightly, as Beau grabbed my hand. “Hope you guys have an awesome night!”

  Within seconds, we were outside the door of my suite, Beau’s hand snaked inside the back of my dress as I fumbled for my key.

  This is really happening.

  It was then that we heard the sound of gunshots echoing throughout the hallway.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Chapter Five

  The Wait

  “Quick!” Beau said as I finally found my key and inserted it into the door.

  “Was that fireworks?” I was so in shock.

  “NO!” Beau said. “That was definitely not fireworks!”

  We barreled through the door, with Beau behind me, as the sound of a man’s voice reverberated throughout all of the rooms.

  “Everyone, please shelter in place. This is an emergency. I repeat, do not leave your room.”

  Within seconds, Beau was on his cell phone, finding out what was going on. And I was furious. Of all the bad timing! Why did this have to happen now? As he continued to talk on the phone, the day’s events—and alcohol—started to take a toll on me. It was time to go to bed.

  Beau was discussing the situation with local authorities, hotel employees, and the like. It seemed as though he was a pretty high-ranking shareholder. The longer he talked, the more my hopes began to fade.

  It’s no use. The mood is ruined.

  After indicating that I was going to bed, I walked into the next room, shut the door, and slipped into the fluffy white comforter. The exhaustion was so intense that I didn’t even bother to change out of my dress. I fell into a fitful sleep, probably because of the intense Moscow Mule I’d been drinking at the club. Well, that and the fact that I didn’t hear gunshots that often in Milwaukee. Or dance with gorgeous rich men. It was a real sensory overload.