Page 35 of The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée

I nod, acting all casual.

Renata takes us along the outer edge of the fourth level, telling us about the other areas—aft weight room, second-level massage room, entertainment area, dining room.

She finally stops at room 410 and unlocks the door. “Mr. Williamson, you’re in here.” She leads Clark into his room.

Rex and I look over the rail down at the pier where white limos are pulling up in a row; the smooth sequence reminds me strangely of water ballet. “Those are the Driscolls,” he says. “They always travel in white limos.”

“You think Gail’s in one of those limos?”

“We’ll see. There are a lot of Driscolls.”

“I gather.” On the plane after the movie, Clark showed me pictures of Gail and her three adult daughters. I worked really hard at memorizing their names and faces. I’m not brilliant like Rex, but I know how to work hard.

Gail’s youngest is in Asia, so I don’t have to worry about her, but I need to worry about Wanda and her husband, Mike. Wanda and Mike run Gail’s family ranch in Texas and have three kids. I’m also supposed to care about Gail’s other daughter, Casey. Casey is married to a man named Wellington, and they have five kids and are into arts philanthropy in Malibu.

Clark says that the daughters don’t care about the business, but they care about Gail.

On the second level of importance are Driscoll cousins and grandchildren, the Driscoll marketing team, and assorted executives. There are also business vendors and partners on the yacht. Clark says I don’t have to care about them.

Drivers start opening doors, and people start getting out of the limos. Suitcases appear on dollies.

I turn to Rex. “Clark told me that even when Gail’s daughter Wanda got married, Wanda’s husband took her last name. They’re all really into being Driscolls.”

“Common among the family money set,” Rex says under his voice. “You keep the money name. If you marry other money, then you go with the hyphen. Jacqueline Kennedy-Onassis.”

“They’re like another breed.”

“Yes, they are.” There’s an edge to his voice. He came up from nothing, a scrabbly South Boston kid. Does he have opinions on people like this?

“Is Gail a Driscoll by birth?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No. She came from ranchers. Small-time wealth, but most ranchers, they work. She married into the Driscolls young. Her husband was the one with the real money. He died around fifteen years ago, and she’s been running things.”

“Wow,” I say. “So Wanda and Mike—they took over the ranch from Gail’s side of the family?”

“Very good,” Rex says.

My chest swells.

“There she is. Black jacket. White hair.”

I find her right away. I can’t see much of her face from here, but I would’ve guessed she’s the one in charge just from the commanding way she carries herself and the way people cluster around her.

“The Driscoll daughters are lucky she’s in charge,” Rex says. “She stepped up and ran that business with an iron grip and cool, unemotional decisions. Don’t let that white hair fool you. She’s straight-shooting, no-nonsense ranching stock. She saved the Driscoll family’s ass several times over. She’s all about the family. Completely focused on family. You could also say it’s her blind spot.”

I lower my voice. “If she’s so amazing at business, why is she letting some bad press about you get in the way of letting her funds make more money?”

Rex watches another limo pull up, this one black. “An apple pie image has a lot of financial value.”

“But you think it’s a bad call. Because you would make hersofreaking much money.”

He slides a dark gaze to me. “Yes,” he bites out in a forceful way that makes my toes curl.

Four elegant people get out of the limo. Two couples, it seems like. Maybe that one is friends of the family, or business associates like Rex.

“All the people showing up looking fancy,” I whisper. “But beneath that veneer of glamour, there are secrets and subterfuge.”

“Secrets and subterfuge? What the hell are you talking about?” Rex asks.

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