Dirty Billions: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance: (A Chicago Suits Second Chance Romance)

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© 2016 by Simone Sowood

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irty Billions
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“
H
oly hell
,” I moaned. My head throbbed, though more from the pain of turning thirty than the celebrations last night. At least I had a spa day to look forward to. Before returning to my lonely one bedroom apartment. Alone. All by myself.

I hauled myself out of the unfamiliar bed and made for the kitchen. I’d stayed here overnight because of the central Chicago location of my best friend Abbie’s condo, making it an easy place to crash after our late night celebrations.

“Good morning,” I said, forcing myself to sound cheerful.

“Hey, happy birthday, sweetie,” Abbie said, and hugged me.

“I am so looking forward to my massage.”
Mostly because I’ll be horizontal
.

“I wish I was having one.”

“But I’ll see you afterwards, for lunch and the hydrotherapy pool.” Unless Abbie decided to bail and meet up with her boyfriend Jay.

“Yeah, when you’re all relaxed we’ll all be tense.”

“You should come, now you’re the big boss. Lord knows you could use a massage.” I poured myself a cup of coffee, knocked it back in one and poured a second. I was in desperate need of the caffeine to get me through the day.

“I am not the big boss, just Sam’s boss. And I haven’t had a paycheck yet, I’m broke.”

We sat at Abbie’s little dining table, drinking our coffees. She was lost in her thoughts, which was fine with me. I don’t know how long I could have kept up the facade that I was happy it was my thirtieth birthday. I had to keep some enthusiasm in reserve for when they joined me for lunch.

* * *

N
aked and face
down in the dim light, the recorded wind chimes and birds rang out from the speaker over background music that could only be a sitar. Sienna, my therapist for the morning, kneaded my tense neck muscles, providing some relief for my pounding head.

This sucked. I was not in my twenties anymore. I was officially old. And what did I have to show for it? No man. No marriage. No house. No babies. I kicked myself internally, forcing myself to stop being so negative. I had a good job in marketing at a big company. To be paid for creativity is wonderful.

But the already echoing noise of my biological clock ticking got even louder overnight. The countdown to my last egg seemed as though it had truly begun.

* * *

“
T
here’s the birthday girl
,” Sam said running up and hugging me. “Ready to get naked with me?”

I rolled my eyes at her. Sam, Abbie and Marla entered the plush relaxation room where I’d been sitting, relaxing just as the name suggested.

“Happy birthday! Are you all nice and relaxed from your pamper morning?” Marla asked.

“Yes, thank you guys so much for such an amazing present.”

“Don’t get too excited, really we wanted to come check out the fabled hydrotherapy pool at this place,” Abbie said

“I’m going to say this right now,” I said looking at Sam, “the nudity is optional. You guys did bring your swimsuits?”

“Hell no,” Sam said.

* * *

I
bent
my knees to keep the water at my neck level. Abbie and Marla, who had acted so excited about not wearing swimsuits over lunch now turned as self-conscious as me. They too kept the water at neck level.

Sam, on the other hand, stood at full height and let the pool’s water jets pound against her tits.

“You’re nuts,” I said to her.

“Gotta feel alive! You should try it, someone at your advanced age needs it most.”

Thanks, Sam
.

* * *

“
Y
ou guys don’t know
what it’s like to be thirty,” I said, sounding far more whiny than I’d intended.

Friday night and all day Saturday wasn’t enough for me, we’d extended the festivities with a dinner out on Sunday evening as well. I’d insisted, in part as a way to ease the ache of failing to be where I thought I’d be at thirty.

“Jen, it’s just a number, it doesn’t mean anything,” Marla said.

“Sure, just a number to you, you’re twenty eight. Wait till it’s your turn, then you’ll understand.”

“Whatever, who cares. Look at Madonna, do you think she feels old?” Sam asked.

“You’re comparing me to Madonna? She must be nearly sixty.”

“It was just an example. You know what I mean. Age is all in your head.”

“Tell that to my ovaries.”

“If you want a family so bad, why do you keep breaking up with your boyfriends as soon as you’re with them for six months?” Abbie asked. Or snapped, really.

She was right, I must’ve had eight or nine boyfriends during the six years she was with Matt. Without exception, I dumped every single one of them once things started getting serious. I guess I didn’t think there was any point wasting time with them once I realized they weren’t the one I wanted to settle down with.

Or maybe because none of them measured up to Collin.

Collin, the only man I’d ever had a long term relationship with. We were together for nearly three years, during the end of college and our first year after it. I thought we’d be together forever. Then he decided to act on an opportunity and move to London, England to start a nightclub.

At first he promised we’d have a long distance relationship, and that he’d only be gone six months. When those six months were up, he moved to Paris to start another nightclub. Then Sydney. I lost track of his movements after Dubai. It hurt too much, seeing that he always had a different woman hanging off him in the photos of every opening.

He not only broke my heart, he made it impossible to have another relationship because no one measured up to him.

“I’ve got to get home and prepare for work tomorrow,” Marla said.

“Me too, I really want to do my best in my new role,” Abbie said.

“Oh man, it’s only six thirty. I need you guys, this thirty thing was fine yesterday when I was still twenty nine, but today is a whole new story.”

“I’ll stay out with you, Jenny, we can party the night away, unlike these two career focused fools,” Sam said. You could always count on Sam.

“Hey, may I remind you I’m your boss now?” Abbie said to her.

“Damn, I should have waited until you left to say that, shouldn’t I?”

“I don’t care how hungover you come into work tomorrow, just be prepared for me to put you to work.”

“Whatever, Calvin.” Sam stuck her tongue out at Abbie. Who knows what went on in that company they worked for.

“Okay sweet cheeks, we have to get home. I have this real hardass boss and I know she’s going to bust my balls in the morning.” Sam downed the last of her wine.

“But there’s still have some wine left.” I lifted the bottle to pour more into Sam’s glass but she put her hand over it, blocking my attempt.

“It’s all yours. As fun as it’s been, it’s Sunday. I’m surprised someone of your advanced age isn’t already home in bed,” Marla said.

The three hugged me goodbye and shoved me in a cab with the bottle of wine. Their last birthday gift to me: a comfortable ride home. Though I wasn’t at all looking forward to going home to my empty apartment.

* * *

I
made
myself comfortable on my cream sofa, my laptop opened on my knee and a glass of wine in my hand.

In my desperation to find myself in a serious relationship, I’d signed up for a local dating site, Chicagodates.com. Eager to check my profile to see the hoards of men who’d contacted me wanting to marry me, I bypassed checking my email and my Facebook and logged straight into it.

My heart sank when I saw exactly zero messages in my inbox, and I took a big gulp of wine just as my phone started to ring

This sucked. No one on the internet was interested in me. Clearly my profile needed work.

“Hello?” I said, lifting the receiver to my ear.

“Happy Birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thanks Mom. How are you feeling?”

“Let’s not talk about me right now, this is your birthday. I can’t believe my baby is thirty.” That was code. She wasn’t doing well. Her cancer was so aggressive that even after treatment, the doctors only gave her two years, max. But with a healthy diet and some natural therapies, my dad and I hoped to have her around for much longer. It killed me enough that I was in Chicago and she was in Maine. I should have been visiting and spending as much time with her as I could before it was too late.

“I know right? I’m old.”

“You’re not old. Well, maybe too old not to have found somebody yet, but there’s still some hope for you.”
Here we go
. She was desperate for a grandchild, and as her only child that all fell on me. Why did she do this to me? I hated the thought of losing her before she had the chance to hold a grandbaby in her arms, but I wasn’t about to rush out and get knocked up just to make that happen. Unless, of course, I found someone on Chicagodates.

“Thanks mom, I appreciate that.” We chatted a little longer and, torn between love and annoyance, annoyance finally won over and I ended the call.