From This Day Foward: Switched at Marriage Part 4 (3 page)

He took my hand again. "One thing you learn when you run in billionaires' circles—don't trust anyone."

J
ustin

Lazer
was
up to something, damn him. He was a lot of interesting, odd, and eclectic things, but a wife stealer wasn't one of them. That I was aware of, anyway. He had enough beautiful single women falling all over him. He didn't need to poach mine. Or anyone else's. I'd never known him to lose his heart. He jounced from one relationship to another unscathed, leaving a trail of broken, and often bitter, hearts in his wake. His, I swore, was made of impenetrable armor. It would take a woman armed with a nuclear weapon to get to him.

Even if I hadn't been in love with Kay, just out of friendliness, I would have warned her off him. Lazer wasn't the committed type.

What the hell was his game? If he was suspicious of what I was up to, I had to throw him off. It would have been nice to confide in him about the jam I was in. He was my mentor, after all. And a hell of lot smoother with the ladies than I could ever hope to be. But the fewer people who knew the truth, the better. And I wasn't certain, one hundred percent, that he wouldn't use it against me. Clichéd to say, but business was a dog-eat-dog world. And both of us were determined to be the alpha.

On impulse, I texted Lazer.
Stop flirting with my wife. I'm the guy who's supposed to make her feel like a princess.

He texted right back.
Was I flirting? Sorry, man. I'll back off. Just thought she'd get a kick out of being in a game. No poaching intended.

The text exchange then degenerated into a discussion about business. I didn't hold a grudge. And I didn't want to put him on guard. If nothing else in my bullied life, I'd learned the usefulness of putting your adversary at ease. I'd perfected the art of the sneak attack. In this case, I hoped I didn't have to use it.

I felt isolated and alone. In this and everything. I didn't sleep alone anymore, but I may as well have. Having Kay's hot, shapely body in the bed next to me night after night only provided temptation. And the fear of embarrassing wet dreams.

Besides, she messed with my sleep app. It recorded her body movement as well as mine. And man, was she an active sleeper! At least according to the app. I checked the data after our first night together and it was like she'd been jumping on the bed with wild abandon. I wished it meant we'd been having vigorous sex. Which, to my great frustration, I knew for a sad fact was
not
the case. It must have been a bug in the software. Kay hardly moved when she slept.

I'd had a moment of excitement, thinking the app would have recorded the movement of me and the ID thief having sex, if there had been any. The app showed nothing but the slumber of the dead. Then I remembered I'd been drugged and hadn't even gotten the phone out of my pocket that night. So, as far as legal proof, that was a no-go. At the same time, I realized sleeping with my phone didn't exactly make me look suave, anyway. I didn't need to emphasize my nerdiness. It made itself known all on its own without any conscious help from me.

At least I was used to flying solo and handling shit myself. Most of the time I preferred it. I could talk to Harry. He was one more confidant than I'd had as a kid.

J
ustin

Even though I preferred small gatherings and time to myself, I was behaving myself at Britt's party. Trying to be social, even though it was exhausting for someone like me who pegged the introvert scale. It wasn't that I didn't like people. I wasn't antisocial. It was that being around lots of them wore me out and sapped my energy.

I smiled and nodded at a blur of introductions on the terrace of Britt's apartment building. She lived a couple blocks from Kay's West Seattle apartment. I hadn't realized how much I'd upset her routines and social life. She had a large circle of friends. Did she miss being so near them?

When I'd proposed this crazy solution to my marital and business problems, I hadn't had time to think through everything. I worked all the time. I hadn't stopped to think Kay would be different. That she was probably as extroverted as I was introverted. That she would feed off the energy of being around others. That I was proposing a mixed marriage of sorts.

The terrace faced west, angled to get the optimum view of the jagged Olympic Mountains and the sun as it set over them. Britt and company had festooned the party space with crepe paper and flowers. Though Kayla enthused over the beautiful pink, saying it was just the color she would have chosen, to me everything was the dull gray of a rainy day.

Britt had style. Her party décor highlighted it. She'd already buzzed around me, hinting, broadly, about a senior merch job at Flash. Damn, I could have given her one on the spot, I supposed. But going over the head of the VP of merchandising would have pissed her off. All the power of the universe of my company. And yet restricted by social conventions and employee relationships.

I made a mental note to put in a good word for Britt. Subtly. So my VP thought hiring Britt was her idea. We poached talent from Britt's current employer, our bigger, badder rival across town, regularly. There was nothing out of the ordinary about snatching one of their people. I wasn't convinced, however, that having my wife's best friend working for me was the best idea. I wasn't sure I could avoid it, either. And live in any kind of marital bliss.

A wedding cake—covered in gray fondant that I was told was pink, white polka dots, gray/pink and white flowers trailing over the side—sat on a table, center stage. With yet another cake topper in the showcase position.
Let them eat cake
was becoming our motto.

It was an interesting study in human behavior to see how romantic or sentimental or comedic this group of Kay's friends was. I was surprised, though maybe I shouldn't have been, by their selection. It was clearly a joke. One that Kay seemed amused by this time.

A stoic, nerdy, skinny groom, cleanly shaved, again, held a flamboyant bride with a lush figure and beautiful breasts peeking out of a low-cut gown in his arms. She had one leg flung up in celebration, flashing leg and garter, pink flowers—I supposed they were pink, anyway—held to her hair. It was like she was saying,
Look what I caught!

The cake topper bride was kissing her nerdy groom, lips puckered, neck extended as she reached to press her lips to his chaste, closed lips. His eyes were shut. He looked as devoid of emotion as the statue he was. Passionless as he let her kiss him.

Was this how they saw me? Vanilla? Without personality? And Kay throwing herself at me? Proud that she'd caught the billionaire?

I thought this wedding topper was more offensive than Lazer's, which had been blatantly jocular. But that was me. And I was presumably the butt of this one.

At some point, we were going to have to cut that gray cake. I wasn't looking forward to the scrutiny and all eyes on me. What would Britt, the emotional savant, see? What had she seen? A sexually frustrated guy with smoldering passion? With unrequited love shining in his eyes and a boner that wouldn't go away? A guy who was in love with a girl not just for her body, but for the whole package—her wit, her intelligence, her kindness?

If Britt were as emotionally smart as she claimed to be, she would see all of that and more. But I wasn't going to make it easy for her. Why should I? Why would I?

The view from the terrace was breathtaking, the Pacific Northwest at its finest. The sound sparkled, lit up by the sinking sun and silhouetting the mountains. The evening was warm and clear. From all outward appearance, Kayla seemed to be enjoying herself as she flashed her ring and her friends gushed over it. I was embarrassed by it. It should have been bigger. Showier. Damn it! Just more. The whole damn marriage should have been more.

As the booze flowed, the talk grew louder. I tried to be good-natured about the ribbing I got from almost everyone. High school. Childhood. College friends. I could see the wheels turning in all of them—why the hell had she chosen
him
? He's not
her
type at all. Money aside, of course. Hard to resist that kind of cash. Very recently a billionaire. Too recent to have developed much emotional maturity. Poor douche. He
must
have business sense. He can't be completely stupid. But emotionally? He's been had. She'll leave him. Sooner, if not later. No, sooner. Indecently soon, probably. And take as much of his fortune with her as she can. I just hope she leaves him a piece of his heart.

This could be one of those marriages measured in weeks. What has it been already? A week? Hmmm, that's pushing it.

Kay had complained to me, upset about being seen as a gold-digging woman. Worried her friends would see things that way. Concerned about the story we'd made up to explain our sudden passion.

I didn't blame her. But she hadn't thought through the other side of the equation. My side. That people saw me as an idiot. That when she left I'd be the fool.

A year gave me some credibility, some plausible deniability. She hadn't married me
just
for my money. There'd been something else. A spark. An ID thief. I laughed inwardly. I could deny being a fool. Things just hadn't worked out. Love fades and fails sometimes. That's just the way it is. She wanted to be the one who left me. Wanted me to be the bad guy so she could save her dignity.

Like hell. I was going to fight to keep her to the bitter end. She didn't know it yet, but she was going to have to be the villain. She was going to have to leave me. I wasn't going to make it easy for her. She'd have to walk out on me. And I would play that broken heart for all it was worth. In public. Anywhere I could. It wouldn't be hard. I'd simply have to let my true emotions show. The brokenhearted billionaire. I hoped I didn't have to be that guy.

Currently, I may have been the baby billionaire. But in the business world I was confident and commanded respect. I was as in control as the wild ride of the business world allowed. I felt insecure as hell among Kay's friends and blond sorority sisters from college. Kay had been in the most prestigious sorority at the university. The one with the hottest girls. And I'd been…a dweeb.

At the same time, I was tripping on the power of being a billionaire. It was still new to me. I hadn't grown into the role. But with the newness came excitement. Everything glowed. The novelty of a billionaire in their midst created a stir. People were reverent toward me now. Polite. Sycophantic. It amused me. And was disturbing, at the same time, that money could change every perception.

I recognized many of the guests. Kelly, the former house president. Morgan, who'd been the bitch of the sorority house, and her guy, frat boy Dakota. Alexis, who was a pledge when I met her. Zach, the houseboy who caused her fall from grace. Seth, another houseboy friend of Kay's. And Maddie. Kay had a habit of slumming with the underdogs. Like houseboys. And me. And treating them with kindness and respect. In other words, like regular people.

Our wedding reception with her friends was like a college class reunion. Kay was the princess. I vowed to treat her like one, too. Lazer may have made her an exaggerated video game character. But I could give her the royal treatment in real life. I could one up him and make her my queen.

I was the guy no one recognized. Time and again people told me the same thing: "I can't believe how much you've changed! I wouldn't have recognized you. Of course, I've seen your picture in the media in recent years. But it's hard to believe you're the
same
Justin we knew in college."

Their tone, their wonder, wasn't exactly flattering. But I think they
meant
to be complimentary.

Eventually, I excused myself to use the restroom. When I returned, I stood on the edge of the crowd, watching. I didn't belong in this world. For a second I wondered if Kay belonged in mine.

I wasn't good at one-on-one chitchat with strangers. At breaking into intimate, small groups. Kayla was in her element. Dressed in a lacy white sundress and looped with pearls, she looked every inch a bride as she floated through the crowd, chatting with her friends. Laughing. Enjoying herself. If I could have stopped time and held on to her forever, I would have.

She was stunning to look at. No one would ever believe me, but her looks weren't the main attraction for me. Yeah, sure, my body reacted to her. But it was her personality, her mind, that intrigued me and turned me on. She hid behind her looks, like I did behind mine. Mine made me invisible, made people discount me as a threat. Made me the butt of jokes. Kay's drew attention. Drew the eye. People assumed because she was pretty, she wasn't smart. We were more alike than she thought. If only she'd step back and take the time to see it.

Someone slapped a hand on my back. I jumped.

"Dude! You got it
bad
." Dex, Kayla's cousin, and my buddy from college, had clapped a hand on my shoulder.

I'd been engrossed in my thoughts. I hadn't heard him approach.

He squeezed my shoulder. "If it isn't the blushing bridegroom."

"I never blush." I broke into a smile.

"You're full of shit. You're the blushingest guy I know."

I looked over my shoulder at him. "Finally! A friendly face. Where the hell have you been? You're late."

Dex laughed. "Traffic. I had to park half the city away." He studied me. "What are you doing lurking in the shadows? Shouldn't you be front and center?"

I shrugged. "Preserving my sanity. Grooms are just an accessory at wedding functions these days anyway. A necessary evil."

Dex comically cocked an eyebrow. He was a good four or five inches shorter than I was. In college, he'd been taller than me. He hadn't had the advantage of an unexpected late growth spurt. He was still the same, but better dressed than usual. Typically Dex dressed like most of the geek techies you saw around Seattle, in jeans and a T-shirt. Kayla's fashion sense, and owning Flash, must have been rubbing off on me. Before I wouldn't have noticed.

Dex studied me. "You look…nice. Lala's making you over already?" He laughed. "Never thought my cousin would marry a fixer-upper like you, dude. She's slumming it."