“What about you, Sophia?” Jules asks. “You want to come to the Bellagio with Leo and me?”
Sophia shakes her head. “I think I’ll have an early night. Or maybe I’ll watch the boys play poker or—something. Don’t worry about me.”
Everyone gets up and we file out of the dining room. When we reach the lobby, everyone disperses in different directions, leaving Sophia and me standing by ourselves.
Just how I wanted it.
SEVEN
Sophia
Kissing Worth was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. His lips erased everything in my mind so I could only think about him and how his hands felt against me. It transported me somewhere I didn’t have to think, to worry, do anything butbe. I want to hold on to the feeling forever.
“Shall we take a driver down the Strip?” Worth asks. “If you haven’t seen it at night, you should probably cross it off your list.”
“You’re really selling it to me,” I say.
“Never said I’d make the best tour guide.”
I tilt my head. “But you are anyway.”
Our ride is waiting. Hanging out with billionaires gives a different perspective on life. Nothing seems off-limits. Everything is right there, ready for you to pick up, drink in, enjoy.
“Were you always rich?” I ask as the driver pulls out onto the Strip.
“Absolutely not. My dad died when I was fourteen, and even though we’d never been rich, I’d never thought much aboutmoney. Then after he passed…” He pulls in a breath and I smooth my hand over his thigh. He catches my fingers and slides his between mine. “Things got more difficult. In every way.”
“Did your mom work?”
“She was a nurse, but she was hit hard by my dad’s death. She… didn’t cope very well.”
“I can’t even imagine.” In the week since I found out about my dad’s betrayal, I’ve struggled to understand why my mom stayed with him. But maybe his complete absence would have been worse than his partial presence. She says she wanted us to have a good childhood, but how did she pull that off? How did she manage not to let it eat her up?
“But we’re all through the other side. My little sister just graduated from Yale.”
“Yale, huh? That’s amazing. How many siblings do you have?” It feels like I’ve known this man my entire life, but I don’t know anything about him really. I just know that he feels like solid rock compared to the waves of my rage.
“Two younger sisters. My parents had me young, when Dad was still in college. So they waited a while before having Avril and Poppy. My dad died when Poppy, my older sister, was six.”
I think about Worth as a fourteen-year-old, having spent the first decade of his life the only child of two young parents, then to get two siblings and lose a father all in a short space of time. It must have been so difficult for him.
“You think that’s why you became successful?” I ask.
“I do. I knew my mom couldn’t take care of herself. And Avril and Poppy were just babies. I knew it was down to me.”
His words feel like a drag on my insides. What a burden for a child of fourteen. “Your mom was depressed?”
“Couldn’t get out of bed most days. Dad had a life insurance policy that paid out and took care of the house. And it took care of some of the bills, like medical insurance and daycare. But Iknew it wouldn’t last forever, and it wasn’t going to cover college or a new car or a new roof. So I did what I needed to do.”
“Worth,” I say, trying to convey how sorry I am for what he went through.
“It was a long time ago. Anyway, we should talk about something more suited to the Vegas Strip,” he says.
“Like how you’re the kind of guy a girl should marry in the Little White Wedding Chapel and never let go?”
“We’ll end the evening that way.” His tone is completely serious, without any trace of humor. He checks his watch. “We have an hour and a half before the wedding bureau closes. Let’s get a drink at Ghostbar first. The views from there are the best we’re going to get.”
I can’t help but laugh at his lack of enthusiasm, and a small smile curves around his lips. I’m not sure if he’s smiling at my amusement or something else. I feel so safe with him, I want to know every expression he has and what they all mean.