Page 30 of Billionaire In Vegas

Chapter Seven

I placedmy bags on the threshold and peeked in at the huge, unkempt, warehouse that Jude expected me to call home.

“This? This was your plan?”

I was so unimpressed. I’d been expecting at least a taste of luxury, instead, I was looking at something that resembled a warehouse after a rave. Trash was everywhere. It smelled funny and stains that I couldn’t identify decorated the couch.

I was grossed out and wanted desperately to get a can of Lysol and a jug of bleach. I looked towards what I thought was the kitchen and shivered. I swore I saw something crawling.

I picked up my bags and backed up. “Nope. I can’t live like this. What’s one point one billion dollars worth if you can’t enjoy it because you have tetanus and hepatitis?”

“My place isn’t that bad,” Jude said trying to bring my bags inside. I slapped at his hands.

“Jude, this place is disgusting. How do you live like this?”

“Happily.”

“You need help.”

“Well, I guess I could hire someone—”

“No, I mean mentally. You need help if you thought I would move into this cesspool and be okay with it.”

“My feelings are so hurt.”

“You don’t have feelings.”

“Yes, I do. Normally during football season. And soccer season. But never baseball season. Too boring. Unless feeling bored is a feeling.”

I ignored him and continued to look from the safety of the door. He nudged me, or rather pushed me inside, and secured the lock on the door.

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

“I can’t get used to this, Jude. I refuse to get used to this. It’s… it’s… it’s uninhabitable.”

He looked at me as if I were nuts. He walked away from me, grabbing my bags. “I’ve lived here for two years. This place is great. Don’t be a snob.”

“I’m not a snob because I want to live in a place that doesn’t have creepy crawlies in the kitchen.”

He took a look at the kitchen, grimaced and said, “Yeah. I think I should call someone. I guess we should head to your place then.”

“My place?!” My eyebrows shot up. Per Jude’s plan, I’d live with him. He’d been rather persuasive and his plan had made sense, up until now.

“Just for a few hours until a maid makes sense of my living arrangements.”

I didn’t want to leave my bags in his apartment under its current conditions, so I grabbed them and stood next to the door.

“Okay. A few hours.”

He took my bags from me and we made our way back to his car.

“So where do you live?”

“East downtown.”

“That’s not far, maybe we would have run into each other eventually.”

“I doubt it. We don’t run in the same circles.”