The Engagement Game (Engaged to a Billionaire)

The
Engagement
Game

by
A.
Gardner

Copyright
©
2012
A.
Gardner

Kindle
Edition

The
Engagement
Game
is
a
work
of
fiction.
 
Names,
characters,
places,
and
incidents
are
either
products
of
the
author's
imagination
or
are
used
fictitiously.
 
Any
resemblance
to
actual
persons,
living
or
dead,
business
establishments,
events,
or
locales
is
entirely
coincidental.

All
rights
reserved.

License
Notes

This
ebook
is
licensed
for
your
personal
enjoyment
only.
This
ebook
may
not
be
re-sold
or
given
away
to
other
people.
If
you
would
like
to
share
this
book
with
another
person,
please
purchase
an
additional
copy
for
each
recipient.
 
Thank
you
for
respecting
the
hard
work
of
this
author.

Author
Email:
[email protected]

To
my
husband,
my
best
friend.

Chapter One

I was screwed from the beginning when Chad casually twisted the corner of his mouth, pretending to look for his wallet.
 
He blushed when I graciously offered to pay, assuring me this type of thing never happened.
 
I should have considered that night a red flag but the way his hazel eyes seemed to caress the edges of my cheek with every lingering glance made me blind.
 
I told myself it was okay.
 
Lots of strong, independent women paid for dinner on a first date.
 
It was an amendment to the twenty first century dating guide.

Fast forward a year later and I moved in with the guy.
 
I was eighteen, fresh out of high school, and I'd been promoted to Assistant Manager at a
Tans, Tans, Plus!
 
And Chad, he got into UCLA.
 
My cards were stacking up nicely.
 
Until three months later when I checked our mailbox.
 
My eyes skimmed through a few grocery ads before stopping at an official letter from the Dean's Office.
 
Chad never showed up for class on the first day of school.
 
He had a whole lot of loan money that needed to be paid back.

"You opened my mail?" he screamed.

"Yeah, I opened your mail.
 
Sue me.
 
You've been lying to me for the past three months!"
 
And immediately my brain added the words - maybe longer.
 
"And now you have a bunch of debt to pay back!"

"Uh."
 
The blank stare.
 
The fiddling fingers.
 
The subtle twist at the corner of his mouth.
 
He already spent the freakin' money!

"You spent it all, didn't you?"
 
I pointed my finger at him.
 
Finger pointing was on my list of things I said I'd never do.
 
My mom did that.
 
But in the moment I couldn't
not
.
 
Chad had forced me to be a girl I didn't want to be.

"Uh."
 
Another 'uh'.
 
How intelligent.
 
Holly was right.
 
We should have parted ways after date one, but he was a way better kisser than Mikey Higby.
 
I was a sucker for full lips and minimal drool.

The next day Chad and I split up but I wasn't rid of him yet.
 
A month later I got the call.
 
My credit card was over limit and how would I like to pay for it?
 
Credit card?
 
What credit card?

"That bastard," Holly seethed while I cried over a pint of mint chocolate chip.
 
"He blows his tuition money and opens a credit card in your name to pay it back.
 
Then leaves?
 
Bastard."

"Is that all you can say?"
 
I managed to force out the sentence through sniffles.

"Dick head.
 
I
could
say more."

I shook my head, grateful that she'd refrained from using the words 'I told you so'.
 
Holly never had a problem saying what she thought.
 
Being the gorgeous blonde that she was, she never had to watch her mouth.
 
A perk of pilates and religious moisturizing, as she put it.

The two of us were like Barbie and Teresa.
 
Holly was Barbie of course.
 
She had the look, the smile, and was annoyingly perfect at everything . . . except tennis.
 
I was the dark-haired friend that wore blue instead of pink.
 
I was the Teresa.
 
And I'd just been taken for a ride by Ken's dumbass limo driver.

I was twenty thousand dollars in the hole, broke, and single.

"I can't believe I wasted my entire Senior year on . . .
him.
"

"Hun," Holly handed me a tissue.
 
"First, unless you're going for a goth sort of look wipe that mascara.
 
And second, the signs were there."
 
Signs?
 
Who has time to see the
signs
when they're knee deep in teenage hormones and Alanis Morissette angst?

"I swear.
 
I'll never ignore
the signs
again."

That was the night Holly and I made a pact.
 
We would move away, get better jobs, party through our twenties, and never settle for less than ten figures.

Now here I was, a twenty-nine year old geriatric nurse living in San Francisco watching my kid sister's college roommate get plastered at her engagement party.

"Wow," Leah comments.
 
She rests her elbow on a mint-colored silk table cloth.
 
"So limber."
 
She snidely smiles as her roommate bends so low, her new in-laws get a look at her pink low-rise Victoria's Secret panties.

"Shouldn't you do something, sis?"

"Eh."
 
Leah tosses a strand of long caramel hair over her bare shoulder, the same hair color as mine.
 
"Jenna left me hangin' when Bobby Nortsen asked for my number last week."
 
I raise an eyebrow.
 
Letting my quizzical stare wander to the glowing paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling.
 
They were meant to look like stars amongst the green decor.
 
"I was wasted.
 
And instead of taking down his number for me and dragging me outside, she let me linger like an idiot until I eventually puked on his North Face hiking boots.
 
They were brand new."

"Right."
 
I nod.
 
The ties of sisterhood.
 
Everyone keeps score.
 
I size up the groom, catching Leah's attention in the process.

"Kat," she rolls her eyes.
 
My little sister was more than familiar with
the rules
, having got a good taste of them when she brought home a guy with grass-stained Levi's for Sunday dinner.

"What?"

"Fine."
 
Her thumbs move to her cell phone.
 
She couldn't stay off it for more than a minute.
 
Which is why she once used LOL in a psychology paper.
 
My response to her rant about nearly failing was LMAO.
 
"What's your take on Keith?"
 
My eyes move from the shine on his leather shoes to the edges of his suit coat.
 
Specially tailored.

"He smiles crooked."

"I know," Leah agrees.
 
"It took me awhile to figure out why Jenna likes him so much."
 
She cups her hand over to mouth to hold in a snigger.
 
"It's the size of his-"

"Pocket book," I finish.
 
My eyes go wide as I look to the table of elderly seniors next to us.
 
Leah shrugs, not really concerned about being polite.

"Actually I was going to say package."

I hit my forehead with the palm of my hand and adjust the hem of my charcoal pencil skirt.
 
I take a final sip of my wine and stand up when a distant once-over aimed in my direction forces me to sit back down.
 
He was tan, gorgeous, and wearing Dolce.
 
I run my fingers through my curled locks, wishing Holly was here to share the eye candy.
 
Her ballet students had a dance recital.
 
I got into nursing and she became a dance teacher.
 
Hell, what was I saying?
 
She'd snag him from me in a heartbeat.

"Who is
that
?"
 
I hide my flushed forearms.
 
Leah grins, holding up her cell phone.

"That is Keith's cousin, Rex.
 
Totally your type Kat.
 
His family owns a bunch of hotels in Europe or something."
 
Score.
 
The only problem was I sucked at opening lines.
 
Holly usually came along and did a giggle hair toss that drew attention to the fullness of her lips.
 
After Chad, I'd spent my nights studying for clinicals.
 
Nowadays, I spent most of my nights with the Lifetime Movie Network if Holly didn't drag me out for a drink.

"Right," Leah clears her throat.
 
"I'm gonna Google him."
 
I put my hand up in refusal but my words don't object.
 
It wasn't like I was going to waltz up and introduce myself anyway.
 
"He lives in London, has a french bulldog named Ozzy, and he's . . . single."

"Of course he is."
 
I gently touch the rim of my wine glass as he flashes a pearly smile at his newly engaged cousin.
 
He puts a hand in his suit coat, smoothing his perfectly gelled hazelnut hair.
 
His leather shoes turn in my direction and before I can check the neckline of my blouse, I realize he's walking towards me.

I turn around, biting my lip and expecting to see a table of half dressed Playboy models behind me.
 
Nope.
 
It was
me
.
 
That or he wanted to borrow the empty chair at our table.
 
My chest goes tight, forcing me to hold my breath.
 
Inflammation of the cheeks.
 
Nice one, Kat.

"Hi," I hastily blurt out as soon as he's within earshot.

"Hi."
 
His dreamy voice soothes my blazing skin.
 
And that accent . . .
 
"I'm Rex."

"I kn-"
 
Leah glares at me before I give away the fact that I had my little sister look him up online.
 
"Kat."

"Leah," my little sis chimes in.
 
I purse my lips as Rex turns his head and grins.

"You dance, Kat?"

"Sure."
 
That was a lie.
 
I
attempted
to dance.
 
I could do slow but if a fast song came on I usually fell victim to an awkward sway.
 
Holly was the dancer.
 
She could grind her way into any man's checkbook.

Rex grabs my hand and pulls me to the dance floor.
 
His fingers lace perfectly between mine, making my heart drum louder than I was expecting.
 
I step carefully in my black Christian Louboutins.
 
Holly's styling tip - to attract the right men, look the part.
 
They were expensive heels for a nurse's salary but worth the investment.
 
They made me calves look slimmer.

I smile, giving Rex a glimpse of the dimple on my right cheek.
 
The DJ starts playing Adele's "Someone Like You".
 
Jenna's request.
 
Her face slowly morphs into a misty-eyed, lovestruck expression.
 

Curled hair, romantic lighting, gorgeous guy.
 
This is what prom was supposed to be like.
 
Instead
my
prom was a nightmare, starting from the rip in my glittery turquoise gown to the ticket I got for holding Chad's liquor as he stumbled down Cherrywood Avenue.

"So how do you know Jenna and Keith?"

"Jenna is my little sister's roommate."