VEGAS

CHAPTER 4: Hello, Christopher - Juno’s POV

It takes every single ounce of self control in me not to crash out. Oliver is sitting across from me in the limousine, like the most unbothered man in the world, scrolling away on his tablet. It’s 5AM on a f*****g Sunday. Who the hell is out by this time?

His family is due to land in Vegas in three hours and before then, he insisted that I get some preening. Like I wasn’t preened enough for the past three days. Last night, he had paid a salon to be open in the early hours so we can breeze in and out before I meet his family.

Honestly, I don’t understand it. I don’t understand why I have to look like I’m preparing for heaven just to meet his family. I mean, billionaires and all, but who do they think they are that I have to wake up by this time just to get ready for them?

“This is ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not,” Oliver replies without looking up from his tablet. “It’s necessary.”

“What part of it is necessary? Getting them to believe we’re engaged is a matter of how we act around each other, not how I look.”

“It’s one thing for them to believe we’re engaged, and it’s another thing for them to approve of it.” He looks at me, barely. “No offense, but you don’t particularly look like you’re a part of our society, or like you have the potential to be.”

Okay…wow. Offense taken. My vision blurs for a second as tears almost come to the surface, but I blink them back. I don’t look like I could be part of his circle when I am in fact one. I’m certain it’s because of the circumstances at which we met.

“Then why didn’t you get someone from your fancy high society to play pretend fiancee?”

“Because women like them can’t be rented. And they will want to make it real at all costs.”

“So in essence, you’re using me because I’m poor and cheap?” I can’t hide the snark in my voice.

“Yes.” He says matter-of-factually. “And because you’re desperate.”

I glare at him from my seat but he doesn’t even look away from his tablet. His eyes are casual, almost bored. Like he doesn’t know that what he says hurt, and he actually didn’t mean to hurt. Just plain insensitive, the kind that comes only from a bastard level of privilege.

I don’t say anything to him after that, too angry and maybe hateful, to even speak. We don’t waste time at the salon before we head back and immediately, preparations for his family’s arrival begins.

The staff are all restless, dusting things that don’t need to be dusted, the chefs prepare a fancy breakfast banquet and more security personnel arrive, standing guard all around the mansion.

Oliver is nowhere to be seen during all of this, and I am too angry to be concerned about his absence. I bathe myself and go through a rigorous skin care routine, then slip into a dusty pink satin day dress. It hangs loosely around my body, showing promises of soft curves hidden underneath. My hair, which I just got done earlier, is delicately swept up into a classy up-do, with a few curls drawn down my face. I finish up my look with a light makeup, a cute diamond necklace with matching earrings, a pair of dreamy sandals and perfume, loving my final results in the full length mirror.

Three minutes past 8AM, is when Oliver finally makes his appearance. He’s still in his outfit of this morning, a crimson silk dress shirt with black slacks. His eyes rake my body for a scrutinizing minute before he nods in approval. Then he covers the distance between us in two long strides, pressing his nose lightly on my neck. He inhales then he pulls back slightly.

“You used my perfume.” He states, and there’s a tint of irritation in his voice.

“We’re kinda supposed to smell similar? Gives off the impression that we’re all over each other.”

He stares at me expressionless for a second before he turns and begins heading to the door. “They’re already here,” he says calmly. “Remember, you must not engage in active conversations, and avoid talking about yourself.”

“What if they ask?”

“They you recite everything that was in the document of rules Dean gave you. You must not deviate or think up anything on your own.”

“But-”

“Let’s go.”

I follow after him, pushing my irritation aside, and focusing on what matters. They’re here. His family. My father. He’s here. I felt so confident at the start of it all, but suddenly, my heart is failing me. What if he recognizes me? I look almost exactly like my mother. What if we don’t sell the act? Would I still get the compensation money?

All these many questions swirling in my head, but I manage to push past them. I need to sell this act. My whole f*****g life depends on it.

“The wine is better here, I swear it,” a deep voice is saying as Oliver and I walk down the spiral stairs to the large living area. “Vegas knows how to get me to spend my money.”

“Careful darling,” a lighter, yet rich feminine voice replies. “You wouldn’t want to get drunk before breakfast.”

Oliver’s hand snakes around my waist just in time as we step into view, and all the eyes in the room turn to us. Their faces are all very familiar, yet not. I guess you can’t rely on magazines and social media to know a person.

The first person to break the silence is one of the twins, Millie. Her hair is copper brown and her eyes are a pretty shade of gray like her mother. She has this big smile on her face as she nudges her identical twin, Tillie.

“She is definitely his type, oh my gosh!”

Tillie doesn’t smile as wide, but she has this teasing look in her eyes as she glances from Oliver to me. “I thought you were lying, Oli.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve never been with girls before.”

His hand tightens around my waist, not in an uncomfortable manner. “I have, but you didn’t need to know that.”

Oliver mentioned that he’d told his family about me already, so it’s not tense among us.

“Girls, don’t be rude.” Their mother steps in. She’s a tall and elegant woman with brown hair and gray eyes. “Introductions first, and then you can tease your brother.” Then she approaches me with a smile, one that I mirror. “Never mind the girls, they’re just excited.”

“I understand, Mrs Kane.” I extend a hand. “I’m Juno Verde, pleasure to meet you.”

“Please, call me Hazel.” She takes my hand in her delicate hand and then pulls me away from Oliver’s grip, leading me to her daughters.

“Millie Rae,” Millie takes my free hand. “I love your hair. It’s so black and shiny and long and-”

“Millie,” Hazel butts in mildly exasperated, and Millie shies away, her cheeks tinting red. We’re the same age, but somehow, it feels like I’m older.

“I’m Tillie Mae,” Tillie grins. “I hope you’re not creeped out by my sister. She loves pretty things.”

“It’s fine. I love people who love pretty things. It means they can appreciate me.” I smile. “Like your brother, for example.” I glance back at Oliver, and he nods his head with a small smile.

“Awww! Did Oli just smile?” Millie muses. Hazel chuckles, taking my hand and leading me to the last person I’m yet to be introduced to.

His lips are curved in an amused smile, as he takes in the interaction in the room. His dark hair, peppered with specs of silver, falls neatly over his brown eyes. All things being considered, he’s a handsome man. Maybe that’s what my mom saw in him. His gaze then falls on me as Hazel and I approach him.

“This is my husband, Christopher. Don’t mind his silence, I suspect he’s already had enough to drink.” Hazel attempts at a joke. “Honey, this is Juno.”

I expect to feel the blood pulsing in my veins. To feel weak…intimidated. But no. No, I don’t feel any of those things. I feel…empowered. There’s some level of power in knowing something others don’t know. Something important.

He sets his drink down and leans away from the wall.

“You remind me of someone I used to know,” Christopher, my estranged father, tells me as he undresses me with his eyes.

Well that’s because you used to f**k my mom and then made me, I almost say, but then I force a sweet smile and say instead, “I guess I have one of those faces.”

“That’s not a first thing you say to my fiancee, dad.” Oliver suddenly speaks from behind me, his arms wrapping around me like a real fiance would, and Christopher’s eyes harden, following the action.

Jealous are you, dad? Weird.

“But the day has barely started,” Hazel says, glancing between the both of us.

“Do they have to spell it out for you, mom?” Millie gushes. “They obviously had a good night.”

Heat spreads across Hazel’s cheeks as she fights to keep her composure. “Let’s have breakfast. I’m starving.”

She moves past us gracefully, heading for the dining area where the chefs lay out breakfast. Millie and Tillie follow right after her, leaving just Christopher, Oliver and I.

“You found a beautiful woman, son. I’m proud.” Then he walks away from us, joining the rest of the family on the table.

I turn around to face Oliver to find him already staring down at me. “Your acting is too stiff. Don’t wait for me to hold you before you hold me, smile as often as you can, lean into me when I touch you, and for Christ sake, be more creative with your choice of words. You were awfully corny.”

With that, he walks away from me, leaving me staring after him in confusion.

Excuse me????