Page 8 of Billionaire In Vegas

“I have my moments,” I said with a shrug.

“So where are you from, Lacey? And why aren’t you gainfully employed?” Jude asked as he cut into his steak and took a huge bite. I secretly hoped he would choke on it. But of course, he didn’t.

I’m sure I was glowering as I went to answer his rude question, but Oliver cut in, “Excuse my son. He was just leaving anyway, weren’t you, Jude?”

“Nope. I think I can spare a minute or two.”

They silently stared at each other, waiting for the other to back down when Oliver sighed and said, “Must you drive me insane all the time?”

“It’s what I live for, father dear.” Jude’s tone dripped with veiled hostility and sarcasm. I rethought my earlier feelings. They didn’t just dislike each other. They hated each other.

I felt uncomfortable so I began to speak, hoping that would detract from the tension. “What would you like to know about me, Oliver? I’m a pretty open book. I’m assuming Kadija sent you my resume.”

“Oh yes, but a resume can only tell you so much about a person.”

I nodded, “Well, to answer your earlier question, Jude, I’m from a small town outside of Georgia.”

“Really? You don’t have a discernible Southern accent.”

I shrugged, not daring to mention that my accent had been the bane of my college existence when I went to school up north, surrounded by people who hadn’t ever heard a Southerner talk in “real life”. I had grown tired of being an oddity and had worked hard to eliminate the Southern twang.

I didn’t say this to the Fosters though. I moved on to the next question. “And I think I’m pretty gainfully employed, after all, I’m working for your father.”

Oliver smiled. “And I’m so happy to have you.”

“Cheers to that,” Jude said unexpectedly. I raised my wine glass with the other two and ignored Jude as he winked at me.

Abruptly he downed the rest of his wine in one gulp, wiped his mouth across his sleeve and stood up. “Well, Father, Miss Cabot, it’s been fun but I have to go.”

“Work’s calling?” I said deliberately being intrusive. Tit-for-tat as far as I was concerned.

“Nope. Women to chase,” Oliver quipped. “You know Jude here was a professional soccer player. Although I think he spent most of his time chasing women instead of focusing on the game.”

Jude said, “A bit of both. I like mixing business with pleasure.”

“Yeah. Don’t we know it.”

As if he didn’t even hear his father, Jude walked away without another word. I watched him leave. I couldn’t help myself as I checked out his butt. It definitely belonged to an athlete. And as if he felt my eyes on him, he turned around and shot me a meaningful grin before disappearing through the dining room doors.

Oliver shook his head and gestured to the butler for more wine. After he was done filling up the glass, he went to leave, but Oliver stopped him saying, “Just leave the bottle. I’ll need it.”

The butler walked away with a little smile.

“I have to apologize for my son. He’s a little bit of an asshole. Well, actually more than a little bit.”

I choked into my wine and Oliver looked at me with amusement.

After I was done coughing, I struggled to come up with something nice to say. I tried to be considerate. “I’m sure he has his moments.”

“Not many of them,” Oliver said without any animosity. There was mostly amusement in his voice. His expression became serious. “We don’t see eye to eye on most things, but he’s still my son. I did a crappy job raising him, so apparently his being an asshole is mostly my fault.”

“I’m sure you did the best you could,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

“That’s not what my therapist says,” Oliver said with a laugh.

I liked Oliver. I liked his frank way of speaking and his self-deprecating humor.

“Anyway, I’m sure you didn’t become a personal assistant to listen to a rich old person’s problem.”