Page 33 of Date The Billionaire

I went to take a shower to wash away the salt of my tears and to wake myself up a little. I didn’t feel like crying anymore, so Tony was right about that part, but I did have to think about that email some more. Carol had sent that to me on purpose. Those little hearts were like rubbing salt in a wound, just the kind of snide thing Carol would do.

I rubbed at my suddenly itchy nose with the back of my hand and wondered why my eyes were so blurry. It probably wasn’t the best idea to get drunk and take a shower, but it did make me giggle as I tried to keep my balance.

I wondered what Jake was doing right now. Was he missing me as much as I missed him? I got out of the shower and wobbled through the bathroom and into my bedroom with nothing but a towel on. Tony would fuss at me about the floors, but I wasn’t thinking about floors right now. I was thinking about my man.

He’d better be alone up in that hotel room. I wondered who had called the photographers as I tripped over into my bed and passed out.

Chapter Sixteen

Jake

I stared at the barren walls of the room I’d been trundled off to after Arabella’s little escapade and fumed. Carol and her goons had come to retrieve me an hour later. Carol’s only words made it sound like I was a prisoner.

“You will not be allowed out of this room until the finale, do you understand? You should have listened to Arabella. To make sure you don’t find a way to communicate with your little lady love, you’ll be kept here. Have a good day. Someone will bring you dinner.” She gave me an insincere smile before she closed the door and locked it.

I felt like a prisoner and wondered how legal this all was. I went over to the television, a stack of DVDs on top of a player, and knew I was fucked. What happened if I had to go to the bathroom?

One more day left, that’s all there was, just one more day. They’d driven me around in a van for a while before it was decided I’d be taken back to the island. A plane trip, and a few hours of sitting in the van later, I was brought to this room. There was no phone, no computer, just a bed, a television with a DVD player, and another door. What was behind the door, a closet maybe?

I found some clothes, a sink, a toilet, and a shower in a tiny room behind the door. There was also a fridge with drinks and a few snacks in it. Well, at least I wouldn’t be humiliated with my bathroom needs. I took a bottle of water and dug through the pile of DVDs. I settled on a long documentary I’d been meaning to watch anyway. It looked like I was going to have a lot of time on my hands.

I spent hours watching the documentary, trying not to think about what destruction Arabella and her pictures were doing. I’m sure Carol had a hand in it all. She was still trying to force me to choose Arabella over Laney, and it just wasn’t going to happen. This whole thing with kidnapping me too? These people were up shit creek and didn’t even know it yet.

I kicked at the lumpy mattress and glared at the windowless walls. This sucked in the truest sense of the phrase. There was nothing to do, no way to call Laney and tell her it was all a setup, and no way to defend myself. This was so much suck!

I wanted to punch the wall but decided to do pushups instead. I went through several exercises before I’d calmed down enough to sit on the bed again. I started to pace around the room, but too many sleepless nights had left me exhausted. I turned out the lights, stretched out on the bed, turned on the documentary once more, and tried to get to sleep.

Thoughts of Laney crying kept me awake. That’s when I knew I truly did love Laney. Not just because she made me laugh, or because I always wanted to be with her, but because the thought of her crying filled me with rage at the same time it made me want to soothe her tears away. I’ve never been the kind of guy to seek out trouble, but I wasn’t afraid of it either. If Arabella and Carol were men, I’d stomp them into the ground, but they weren’t. I didn’t hit women, ever. But I’d find a way to make them pay, because I knew—somehow—that Laney was crying.

“Fuck!” I shouted as I stood up from the bed. “Just let me out of here!”

I pounded on the door but nobody answered. I went back to the bed and kicked it, feeling totally useless. This fucking sucked!

I finally flung myself back on the bed and made myself watch the documentary. Before long, exhaustion finally won, and I fell asleep.

I had nightmares about being trapped in the room, fire building around me, until I finally found a window hidden behind one of the walls. I was about to climb out when I heard Laney screaming for my help.

I ran through the room once more, following the sound of her voice, but every time I thought I’d found her, the location of her voice moved. I kept running and running until I was exhausted, and slumped against the window, too tired to even climb out. Laney’s voice still called to me, and I didn’t have the energy to stand up and find her, to save her!

I woke up the next morning angry and not in a very good mood. Somebody had to pay for this total farce. The video diary guy came to see me early, and I glared at him, unable to hide my anger.

“Wait, you’re looking a little shiny. Makeup!”

I had to sit and wait for a makeup artist to apply powder and fluff out my eyebrows before the video diary finally started.

“So, what you been up to?”

His monotone voice just irritated me more. “None of your business,” I said.

“Fine. Any idea who you’ve chosen yet?” He bounced on one foot, obviously ready to go.

“Also none of your business.”

“Right, we’re sulking this morning. Fine. I’m done.” He scuttled off and Carol came in to take his place.

“Hi there, handsome.” She gave me a conspiratorial wink and I clenched my fists at my sides. “You all ready for the big night? I think you know what’s expected of you, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” I growled at her, not caring that she flinched and stepped back.