A Very Merry Billionaire Christmas (Special Edition Holiday Novella) (3 page)

"Uh, I did it myself," says Maddy, after only a moment's hesitation. "With a little help from a friend."

Daniel is almost smiling.

Almost.

Finally, the butler - yes, an actual white-gloved butler - comes out to let them into the ballroom. Adrian is pretty sure they were only kept waiting to appease the will of their host, Conrad Wolverton. It's a move that is only slightly subtler than actually dangling his balls in their faces.

Billionaires, as Meg has observed on more than one occasion, are often obsessive when it comes to proving their superiority over other human beings. It's a side effect of secretly fearing you don't really deserve anything you have, she believes, although Adrian thinks it's just a character defect that is more prevalent in moneyed families.

Meg frequently reminds him that being self-deprecating doesn't
actually
make you a better person. And he frequently flips her off, although he knows that she's right.

"Please, come in," the butler says. Maddy decides she is going to call him Jeeves in her head, because it brings some levity to the situation. "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting."

"I bet you are," Ben mutters, and Adrian instantly likes him.

Adrian can't help but notice that Ben keeps glaring at Daniel's back like he's wronged him somehow, but he figures it might be too early to start cross-examining him.
 

Then he sees the ballroom, teeming with sleek overdressed automatons holding unthinkably expensive glasses of champagne they're not actually drinking, because it probably tastes like ass, and he thinks:
ah, fuck it
.

He grabs two glasses from a passing server's tray, and holds one out to Ben.

"Oh," says Ben, distractedly. "Thanks."

"You looked like you could use it." Adrian eyes his own glass, suspiciously. "There's nothing worse than spending the evening at a party with friends you'd rather not see."

Ben's eyes are searching the room for his wife, who's been instantly accosted by several tittering "fans." She is certainly the most recognizable face among them, but Ben suspects they don't care so much for her as they do for the notion that she might have Charlie Hunnam's phone number.

"She'll be fine," Adrian says. "Didn't I see her on one of the
Law and Orders
last week?"

Ben nods, still distracted. "Yeah, she keeps busy. I guess she'll be the popular one tonight."

"Must be tough."

"Huh?" Ben actually looks at his face, finally. "Oh, right. Yeah. I guess? I'm just happy she gets a chance to do what she loves. But it does pull her away, a lot."

"I tend to resent strangers on the street looking at my wife," Adrian admits, scratching absentmindedly at his impeccably-groomed beard. "I don't think I could handle her being on TV."

"Well, you know." Ben shrugs. "I mean, I like to think I'm pretty evolved. But I did hire a team of lawyers to crush NudeCelebsNow.com after they posted a bunch of screen-grabs of her in a thin white tee-shirt on
Justified
and talked about her
nipples
." Ben's jaw clenches.

"That was you?" Adrian stares at him, equally parts awed and terrified. "Uh, I mean - never heard of it. Nude Celebs
what
now?"

Ben shrugs again. "I know. Your values really change once you're married to an actress. I've already offered plenty of apologies to my thirteen-year-old self, but I don't know if he's forgiven me yet."

The conversation's derailed, but Adrian is still terribly curious about the obvious tension between Ben and Daniel. Does it have something to do with the newspaper articles? He wracks his brain, trying to remember if any of them name-dropped Ben as a source.

"He's mad at me because I slept with his sister," Ben says, after a moment of silence. "I can tell you're curious. That's it. That's the whole story."

"Wait..." Adrian frowns at him, then at Daniel, then at Jenna.

"Years ago," Ben clarifies. "I'd just gotten out of a long-term relationship and I was...well, I was in the state of mind where you think sleeping with your best friend's sister is a good idea. And - I mean, in my defense, she was
all over me
. Not that I can't say no, but I didn't want to. She's goddamn beautiful. She's..." He hesitates, glancing at Daniel and then back at Adrian. "...I mean, never mind. It doesn't matter. The point is.."

Adrian's snickering. "You were going to tell me she looks like
him
, weren't you?"

"No!" Ben insists. "Because that would be an insane baseline comparison coming from one straight man to another." He hesitates. "I...assume?"

"Correctly," says Adrian. "But I'm not blind. I get your point. Still, you don't sleep with your friend's sister."

"Well, I did. It's in the past. Damage is done. So why is it suddenly an issue now?"

"That's a good question, actually." Adrian takes a sip of the champagne, and makes a face. "How did it become an issue? Has he known all this time?"

"Well, no." Ben drifts towards a tray of tiny beef Wellingtons. "I might've...told him."

"Sorry, I didn't catch that." Adrian grabs a handful of the little pastries. "Did you say you told him? He was never going to find out, and you rubbed it in the man's face like a naughty puppy? What's
wrong
with you?"

Ben sighs heavily. "Obviously, I have some kind of severe personality defect. You and my wife can discuss it later, if you want. The point is, it's done, I can't undo it, but I don't think I need to fall all over myself apologizing. I don't even think it's me he's mad at."

"Perhaps not." Adrian beckons over another server with a tray of shrimp cocktails. "But do you really think he wants to be dealing with you on top of everything? Just tell him you're sorry, say five hail Marys, whatever it takes."

Ben's mouth twists slightly. "I'm going to tell you something, for no reason other than the fact that you're currently in the room, and you seem pretty sane, and you don't already know my wife. Because you cannot tell her. Seriously. Promise me, Adrian."

"Of course," says Adrian, mildly. "Why would I tell her?"

"She's very persuasive. Just. Please."

"I promise I won't even talk to her. Cross my heart, and hope to die."

"All right." Ben lets out a deep breath. "Here's the thing..."

Chapter Three

"I fail to see why this matters," says Meg, handing her husband a glass of punch. "Like, at all."

"I didn't know there was
punch
." Adrian looks deeply hurt. "I've been trying to choke down that swill he calls champagne." He shakes his head, coming back to the point. "Anyway. Trust me, it matters. There's some heavy shit going on between those two, and apparently it's very important that Jenna not find out. So. Now you know." He makes a vague gesture with his free hand. "Do with it what you will."

"Now I have to be responsible for this feud?" She glares at him. "I'm just going to skirt this whole issue by not talking to Jenna all night. There. Problem solved."

The corner of Adrian's mouth quirks up. "I mean, you could. But I heard she's going to be on
American Horror Story
next year.
I heard she's seen the script
."

Meg's nostrils flare as her resolve weakens. "You fight dirty, Ryn."

"So dirty." His eyes sparkle. "Go on, babe. We can straighten this out, between the two of us. Just tell her the truth, and she'll understand what's going on, and...look, I'm not sure what's going to happen, but the truth always has to come out eventually. Right? Nothing's going to get better as long as people keep lying to each other."

Meg shakes her head. "That's a pretty funny philosophy, coming from Natalie McBride. But, fine. Okay. If the opportunity presents itself, I'll tell her what you told me. But if shit gets real, we're leaving. Immediately. Don't drink too much of that punch - I want you sober enough to drive home. Speaking of which..."

"...because I was hoping we could fuck in the car, and I'm sick of drivers knowing all my private business," Adrian finishes. "That's why I drove us here myself. Go on. Fly, little bird. Fly."

***

Conrad Wolverton arrives.

The moment he steps into the room, all of the women who've been gathered around Jenna scatter like birds. They flock to him in formation, and he smiles, smoothing his white hair back on his skull.

"So that's the guy who's so desperate to sell his house," Maddy mutters, to no one in particular.

"Apparently," says Adrian. Since the rest of the guests have started gravitating towards the host, they're some of the only ones left. Ben and Daniel still aren't making eye contact, and Meg hasn't figured out how to approach Jenna yet, though she's almost visibly vibrating with excitement at the idea of learning
American Horror Story
's secrets.

"So you heard the rumor too." Maddy sidles closer to him. "Are you thinking about buying it?"

"God no." He chuckles. "It's hideous, isn't it? I teased my wife about it, I think I might've fooled her, but the downside is she might be concerned about my mental health."

He cringes slightly, realizing what he's said. But Maddy doesn't seem to notice.

"It's pretty gross," she agrees, eyes scanning the room. "I mean, I've seen worse. But it's...yeah, it's pretty gross."

A beat of silence passes.

"So, you're a Dirk and Amanda fan, then?" Adrian says, somewhat hesitantly. He's taken with the odd feeling that Daniel can somehow hear everything he says, from several light-years away on the other side of the room.
 

Maddy smiles, a little shyly. "Yeah. I guess I'm a sucker for those boss and secretary stories."

"Well, it makes sense." He glances at her, but she shakes her head a little.

"I was never his secretary. The blogs always get that wrong. I was a graphic designer. Barely talked to him before he..." She hesitates. "...before he first asked me out."

"Wow, just like that?" Adrian looks over at Daniel again, with something like awe. "He just...decided he liked you, and asked you out?"

"Yeah, you know. Like you do."

Adrian's trying to reconcile this revelation with everything the papers have been saying about Mr. Thorne lately, and it's not making a whole lot of sense. Granted, he had his own reasons for delaying things with Meg indefinitely, but he's starting to feel distinctly cowardly by comparison.

Of course, he doesn't know the truth.

"Graphic design," Adrian echoes, bringing the conversation back to safer waters. "So, how do you like my cover art?"

Maddy bites her lip slightly. "Who does it?"

"Uh oh." Adrian laughs a little. "Well, the first one, I had done by a guy at the office. But I've just tweaked that basic concept myself for all the subsequent ones."

"I mean, I like them," Maddy says. "Don't get me wrong. I just...well, especially that last one - I think you could do better."

"I'm listening," says Adrian, getting a refill on his punch.

***

"...so ideally, you want your author name visible from space," Maddy's saying, as Adrian watches her with rapt attention.

"Conrad, this is my wife. Maddy." Daniel has appeared out of nowhere, and he's got the old man hovering behind him.
 

"Oh, it's lovely to meet you." Maddy has the "billionaire's wife" act down. She knows exactly how to sound pleasant to overprivileged strangers, how to carry herself, and how to blend in with these people. It's a skill Meg will probably never learn, which is just fine by Adrian. He loves her for it. But it's interesting to see how a girl-next-door - and a bit of an awkward one, at that - can play at being a socialite.

Because awkward she is, adorably so, but awkward. It's not hard to see why a man like Daniel would be drawn to her. She's not going to drag him out partying every night, like most trophy wives would do. She's pretty like the girl next door, down-to-earth, and soft. Yes -
soft
. Her hair, her eyes, her smile, even her figure - although she's not quite Adrian's type, she's no stick figure either. He's seen blurry snapshots in bad tabloids before, but he didn't really get a sense of her before now. She's not what he expected.

Conrad steps forward and claps Adrian on the shoulder. "Adrian Risinger. So glad you could come. Didn't expect it, to be honest. My Stephanie, she loves your books."

"Thank you," says Adrian, wondering who the hell Stephanie is.

"I don't go in for that sort of thing, myself," Conrad guffaws. "Romance novels - pfft. But I've glanced at them once or twice. You've got some real talent. You ought to write
real
books, you know that?"

There's a moment where no one knows quite what to say.

"I...real books?" Adrian echoes, a laugh lurking in the back of his tone even as he squares his shoulders, clenches his fists slightly. "Sorry?"

"You know!" Conrad has the overall bearing of a man who's not used to being misunderstood. "Real books. Books a
man
would write."

"Like...Tom Clancy?" says Maddy, quietly.
 

"No, no, no!" Conrad waves a hand in her direction, like she's a pesky fly. "Dickens. Hemingway. You know. Real men's books."

"Right," says Adrian. "My hand to God, the next thing I write will rival
The Sun Also Rises
."

Conrad laughs, and claps him on the shoulder again. "That's m'boy."

He wanders off, leaving the trio in his wake.

"Good God, that was unpleasant." Daniel looks ready to crawl out of his skin, and Adrian feels the same, although he's pretty sure he hides it better.
 

Maddy watches their host walk away. "Do you think he realizes what The Sun Also Rises is actually about?"

"Definitely not," Adrian supplies. "That man has never read a book in his life, and he's probably never watched a movie that's not produced by Vivid Entertainment. And only then, to pick one of his future wives."

"Stephanie is his niece, actually, I think," says Daniel. "Well - one of them. He might've had a wife named Stephanie, too."

"What is it with billionaires and porn stars?" Maddy crosses her arms, staring at her husband.