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  Chapter 8

  “Have you seen my black swimsuit?”

  “You already packed it. It’s in the front pouch of your suitcase.”

  “Thanks,” I said with a flustered grin as I put the now dry pink suit in with the black one. Jack sat on the bed, watching me bounce around the bedroom picking things up and putting them in my suitcase. “When does your flight leave again?”

  Jack sighed and shifted his weight on the foot of the bed. “It technically leaves whenever I am ready, but, I have to be back in New York by the close of business, so I need to leave in about fifteen minutes.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to go until evening,” I said quietly as I put the last couple of items in my main suitcase. What I really meant was, I wish you didn’t have to leave me at all.

  “Me too, but planes can only fly so fast,” Jack answered. He shifted his weight again.

  “Anxious to be off?” I asked, nodding at his tapping toes. He couldn’t seem to sit still. He looked down at his feet and saw his toes tapping against his sandals.

  “It’s a good thing I wear covered toe shoes at work,” he murmured glaring at the offending foot. The toes stopped tapping. “I need to tell you something.”

  I played with the zipper on my suitcase for a moment before standing. I had a feeling something like this was going to happen. We had been far too happy, this vacation too perfect for it to not have some hidden secret. I had been watching him all morning and knew he was fighting with a decision. I could tell from the way his jaw clenched tight or the fact he ordered plain black coffee that he was nervous about something. We had only been together for less than a week, but I could read his subtle tells like I had known him my whole life.

  “The secretary you came with... she’s actually your wife, right?” I said straightening up to face him. I had been running scenarios of what he was going to say all morning. That was the most plausible one I could come up with. There were others, but asking him if he was a spy for the American government seemed a bit much.

  Jack barked a short laugh. “No, not by a long-shot.” His face darkened, and he stood up and took my hands in his. “I haven’t been completely honest with you about what I do. I’m the new CEO of DS Oil and Gas.”

  I snorted. That was not one of the many scenarios I had concocted. “I knew you had money, Jack, but a billionaire? Be serious.”

  “I am serious. My father is the founder and owner of DS Oil and Gas. This is my last vacation before going back to take over the company. When my father steps down, I’ll be in charge of the company.” His eyes were dark and pleading. I could feel my brow furrowing as I shook my head and took my hands out of his.

  “DS Oil and Gas? What are you talking about Jack?”

  “I love that you don’t know that. Here,” he said pulling out his phone and pulling up a video. He placed it in my hands as the screen loaded. It was a commercial I had seen a thousand times, played on all the TV shows my parent’s watched. The jingle was one of those stupid songs that had the instant ability to stay stuck in my head for days. DS Oil and Gas... It’s a blast! On the last frame an attractive teenage boy came and stood by a distinguished older gentleman looking at an oil well. It was very obviously the teenage version of Jack with a man who could only be his father.

  Jack gingerly took the phone from my shaking fingers when the video ended. “The video is a little old, but it’s the one everyone knows. DS stands for Daniel Saunders, my father.”

  I looked up at him, confused. He reached out and gently pushed my chin closed; I hadn’t realized it was hanging open. “I don’t know what to say. I had no idea that was you.”

  “I think that's why I like you so much. You never saw me as a meal ticket or anything other than another human being. You didn’t see a billionaire playboy, you saw a normal person. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

  My hand went to my throat, feeling the cool silver dolphin charm. “That’s why you didn’t hesitate to buy this, and why you didn’t want any pictures at the wedding. If you’re a billionaire, then you’re famous too, right?”

  “I never meant to lie to you Emma. I loved the way you looked at me. I loved your honesty and how genuinely wonderful you were without knowing who I was. I’m surrounded by fake people who only want my money every moment of every day, but you, you were different. I wanted to tell you, but I was terrified you would look at me like they do.”

  “So you’re a billionaire who spent his last vacation with a dirt-poor girl in a free hotel room,” I said slowly. I moved away from him and sat down on the foot of the bed. My thoughts were racing, and every time I thought I caught one, it would slip through my fingers and speed off before I had time to process it.

  “This was more than I could ever ask for,” he said quietly. Jack knelt before me on the floor, his hands resting on my knees. His dark eyebrows bunched together, his face full of worry and regret.

  “So what happens now?”

  Jack took a deep breath. “Nothing has changed. We both knew we were going to go our separate ways. We both said we would never tell anyone about this. It’s our secret, something that no one can ever take away from us. I didn’t want you to pick up a magazine and find out who I was that way.”

  I nodded and bit my lip. I could feel tears forming and I struggled to make them stay behind my eyes. I wanted to ask him if I was merely a good time for him, or if he ached for me the way I ached for him. I was afraid it was a fling. That’s all it could ever be. “I still don’t want you to go, money or no money. I think I would have preferred the 'secretary is your wife' scenario. At least that way I would have known I could never have you again.”

  Jack smiled softly and brushed my lips with his. “I want to do something for you. If there is ever anything I can do for you, I want you to let me know. A new car perhaps?” He held a finger against my lips as I started to shake my head. “It will cost me almost nothing, but it will help you enormously. I want to see you happy Emma, and if I can help, I want to.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Please do. It would make me very happy to see you succeed,” Jack said softly. He placed a card in my hand with a number scrawled in black ink on the back. I stuffed it into my pocket and tried to blink tears out of my eyes. I wanted to pull him into me, to make this moment not our last. I was far more attached to him than I had hoped to be.

  A loud knock came at the door and Jack closed his eyes for a moment before standing. He turned silently as a second knock rapped louder. The tears escaped my eyes and trickled down my face as I stood up to follow him, grabbing his hand as he headed towards the door.

  Outside a man in a black tuxedo stood waiting on the porch. Jack opened the door and nodded to him before turning back to me. His eyes were wet as his thumbs smeared the tears off my cheek. He then traced his thumb across my lower lip before taking my chin in his hand and pulling me into a kiss. I could taste the salt of my tears—salty like the ocean—as I kissed him one last time.

  “This was the best vacation I’ll ever have. Thank you Emma,” he said softly, his eyes full of a sadness I understood too well. He started to say something more, but stopped, swallowing his words. I knew what he wanted to say because I wanted to say it out loud too—I love you—but it hurt too much even to think about saying it. If spoken, the pain of leaving would only be worse. This was a fling. A vacation from our lives, nothing more.

  He stepped out into the bright sunshine and then my one-time husband closed the door carefully behind. I felt a piece of my heart go with him as I heard his car drive away.

  Chapter 9

  I leaned back in my seat, wondering how my life could have changed so much and yet not changed at all. Everything felt different since I met Jack, but everything was still the same. I was going back to my normal, boring, life and in a few hours this vacation would be nothing but a memory.

  A stylish blonde woman sat next to me with headphones jammed in her ears. I sighed and didn’t bot
her trying to introduce myself again. She had plugged her ears the moment she sat down. Besides, what would I say? Hi! How was your vacation? I had a great time on the island. I married a billionaire! The idea made me giggle a little as she pulled out a magazine.

  On the cover was a black and white photo of Jack with the tag line: Billionaire Bachelors. Seeing him took my breath away and made my insides ache. I missed him and my plane wasn’t even back in the states yet. The woman flipped to the article, Jack’s eyes catching me from the page. I wished I could take the magazine and hold him close to me again. I didn’t expect to miss him like this. The woman gave me a dirty look for reading over her shoulder and angled the magazine away from me, flipping to a new story about a basketball star’s lavish wedding.

  I sighed and looked out the window. Who would ever believe that shy, cautious Emma would marry, let alone marry a billionaire on vacation? I put my own headphones on and tried to settle into the chair. It was going to be a long flight home and the ache in my heart wasn’t going to speed things up. Maybe if I fell asleep, I thought.

  I felt the plane bank slightly as I drifted off, Jack’s smile filling my dreams. Time to go home.

  ***

  The plane landed with an unceremonious thunk, waking me from my sleep. The captain droned on about the freezing temperatures outside and the local time, but I barely listened. The world outside the window was a frosted gray. It was snowing, providing the perfect contrast of real life to my vacation. Time to get back to reality.

  I turned my phone on and sent a quick message to my friend Ashley to let her know I had landed before putting it back in my pocket and heading off the plane. My suitcase rattled behind me, as I followed a mom trying to convince her two young sons that they should put on their coats. She sounded so much like my mother that I couldn’t help but smile and make sure my own hat and coat were on.

  I was paying more attention to the mother’s frazzled explanations about the weather than my surroundings when she fell silent as they stepped onto the moving stairs down towards baggage claim. I followed her gaze and felt my jaw drop. The normally empty greeting area at the base of the escalator was crowded with people and cameras.

  “Mom, are those Pizzerias?” One of the kids asked.

  “You mean 'paparazzi', and I think so. I have no idea why though. Somebody famous must be coming to town,” she answered, smoothing the young boy’s hair down as a flash went off.

  “What if it's Goliath the Fighting Machine?” the younger son asked excitedly, turning to face his mom.

  “Maybe it is. We’ll check the paper when we get home. Watch your step and, Jimmy, put your coat on,” the mother coaxed as the three of them stepped off the escalator. I wondered who all the fuss was about, but the photographers kept watching the stairs and taking random pictures as passengers emptied off their planes.

  I was almost to the door by the baggage carousel when one of the paparazzi turned excitedly and snapped my picture. Small bright stars filled my vision from the flash, and I stumbled forward towards the door. I turned to yell at the photographer, but suddenly every photographer there seemed to be heading my way. Instinct took over and a sudden need to get out overpowered me. I wheeled to escape out the door, but two large cameras blocked my exit path.

  I could see Ashley’s car waiting outside the glass doors, so I lunged forward, trying to avoid the cameras suddenly appearing in front of me. Fighting through the crowd, someone pulled my hair, and I felt a pocket on my jacket rip and give way. It was hard to breathe in the mass of electronics and people, but I finally managed to escape out the automatic doors.

  I threw my suitcase in the backseat of Ashley’s car and jumped in the passenger seat, a wave of cameras following me out the door. Seeing the wall of people headed out the door towards her car, Ashley gunned the gas as soon as I was sitting, escaping out of the small airport.

  “What the hell is going on?” I shouted, looking at my torn coat. I slammed the seat-belt in the lock and turned to Ashley. “Thanks for getting me out of there. Those people are crazy!”

  Ashley grinned and tossed me a magazine. It was one of the trashy ones called The Press that she always picked up whenever she went grocery shopping. On the front cover was a picture of my wedding. Jack’s arms were wrapped around me as he kissed me under the white awning with the headline “EXCLUSIVE!” plastered across the cover in garish red. I felt my jaw drop again. At this rate, I was going to end up with a bruise on my chest.

  “They’re here for you, Mrs. Saunders. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t seen the pictures. Cute dress by the way,” Ashley said nonchalantly as she headed towards the highway. I looked at the picture again. It was incredibly sensual, but sweet, the way a real marriage kiss should look. “Your phone’s going off by the way.”

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket. The ancient thing was shaking angrily as it counted up missed messages. The number rolled into over 100 missed calls with just as many voice mails, and the darn thing was still shaking as it counted. I stuffed it back into my pocket and looked at Ashley like she had something to do with it.

  “I can’t believe you really did it! You have to tell me all about it!” she squealed as she veered around a car going too slow for her taste. I couldn’t find words and stared at the magazine. She laughed at the expression on my face and tapped her hand on the glossy cover. “Go on read it. It’s today’s issue. Tell me if it is all true! I can’t believe you bagged Jack Saunders. Way to go Emma!” Ashley grinned at me as she turned onto the highway. The car felt suddenly hot with me bundled in my jacket and the heater on full blast, but I had a feeling it had more to do with the adrenaline and shock moving through my system. This was not what I had expected to come home to.

  I opened up the magazine and flipped to the article, reading it aloud. “Playboy billionaire Jack Saunders married a homegrown girl from Iowa during his vacation to the exclusive Ocean Blue Resort on Ocean Key Island. Not much is known about this small town beauty, other than her name is Emma LaRue and she currently works as a veterinarian.” I stopped and looked over at Ashley. “I don’t know if you know this, but I’m not a vet.”

  Ashley smacked my arm with her hand and then waved it so I would continue reading. “These exclusive photos show the happy couple very much in love. Sorry ladies, this ‘Prince Charming’ is now off the market!”

  “So, is it true?” Ashley asked excitedly as I flipped through the photos. They looked like they had been taken by someone hiding behind a bush near the wedding site. I couldn’t believe how happy we both looked. The car swerved a little as she turned with an excited grin to point at the pictures.

  “Eyes on the road! Well, it’s sort of true. It was kind of an impulse thing. It isn’t legal or anything. No one was supposed to know.”

  Ashley squealed with excitement and the car swerved a little again. I resisted the urge to grab the door frame and instead glared at her.

  “But it really was Jack Saunders? That really is you?”

  I nodded and she started jumping up and down in her seat and giggling with excitement.

  “Eyes on the road, Ashley!” I yelled as the car swerved with every giggle.

  “Is he as handsome in real life as he is in the pictures? Did you go out on his yacht? What parties did you go to?”

  “I hate to disappoint you, but we mostly sat on the beach and talked,” I said. And he kisses like heaven and can turn my body to happy mush in 3.5 seconds. “I actually didn’t even know who he was until the last day.”

  “What!? You didn’t recognize the most eligible billionaire bachelor? The prince that all Cinderellas are waiting for? And all you did was sit on a beach? No yacht? Are you serious?” The car swerved again.

  “Road, Ashley. And no, I didn’t recognize him. I don’t read this stuff like you do,” I said, holding up the magazine. “I knew he had money, but he seemed like a normal guy.”

  “Normal? Emma, honey, he is so much more than normal.” She looked o
ver at me like I had said that chocolate was the most disgusting food on the planet. I sighed.

  “You want to tell me all about him, don’t you?”

  “Well, despite marrying the guy, you obviously know nothing about him.” Ashley veered around an SUV and shrugged apologetically at the driver as we zoomed past.

  “Okay. Tell me.”

  “The Press calls him ‘The Prince’. He is the son of a super wealthy oil prospector and is set to inherit the billions that is DS Oil and Gas, as well as a bunch of other little companies his father invested in. He tries to keep a low profile, but he is considered a bit of a playboy. There is always a different model on his arm for every society function. Not a whole lot is known about him, other than his good looks, boyish charm, and that he is practically made of money. Oh, and that he loves hamburgers.”

  “Hamburgers, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.”

  I stared down at the magazine in my hands. The photo was obviously taken from a distance, but it captured our kiss. I felt the ache in my chest threatening to consume me, but I couldn’t look away from the photograph. I didn’t see a man with wealth. I only saw Jack. I traced my finger along the curve of his cheek, remembering the warmth of his skin.

  “Rumor is his dad is sick. He wasn’t supposed to take over the company until after his 31st birthday, but as you probably know, he is barely 29 and everything is going into motion to make him CEO.”

  “He didn’t mention his dad. He said this was his last vacation before having to take over,” I said quietly, my eyes glued to his photograph.

  “Well, yeah. It is kind of a big deal, Emma. He has his work cut out for him. This transition wasn’t supposed to take place for almost another 2 years and things are kind of a mess,” Ashley said as she veered around another car. She launched into business degree mode, the passion in her life other than tabloids and reality TV. The words sounded English, but I gave up trying to understand after the word “fiscal”. She had plenty to say on the subject, and I let her jabber on how difficult this particular transition was going to be while I stared at the glossy magazine pages.