Page 1 of Billion Dollar Revenge

Chapter 1

Chelsea

I stare at myselfin the floor-length mirror, admiring how well my new black bustier and straight blue Levi jeans fit my body. With my long legs and athletic frame, my outfit gives the illusion that I have more curves than I actually do. It’s my 27th birthday, and I’m eagerly waiting for my boyfriend of nearly two years to come pick me up so we can celebrate together.

I try to smile as I arrange the flowers in the vase on my nightstand, but my heart aches knowing they weren’t from him. That doesn’t matter, though, because we are going to have some time together tonight at my favorite restaurant. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

He should be here any moment. I finish my inspection of myself, quickly painting my lips with my favorite creamy mauve lipstick and running my fingers through my bangs. Grabbing my purse, I throw my phone and lipstick inside, then head down to show Summer?my friend and roommate?my outfit.

As my black heels click against the living room floor, my best friend whistles from her well-worn spot on the sofa, and I break into the widest of grins.

“You look hot. I wish you had a real man to show all this off to,” she says in a curt tone. I know she’s trying to be happy for me, even though she's voiced her concerns about Bobby being a flake. But I love him, and I know how hard he works. Being a full-time employee at Lincoln Media while navigating the New York City traffic daily is no easy task.

I check the time on my phone. “He should be here any minute.”

She nods but remains silent.

He’s probably running a few minutes late?he always is. I made the reservation for eight o'clock to make it easier on him. He stays late at work to impress the CEO because he wants a promotion. He told me he needs to fulfill extra duties until he gets the job. However, a very small part of me hoped he would’ve made an exception for my birthday.

“Come sit while you wait,” Summer offers, lifting a side of the cream throw blanket.

Our favorite movie,Love Actually, is on. I can’t say no; it’s better than staring at the door. I move toward the sofa, take a seat, and lay the throw blanket on my lap. My phone is in my hand, waiting for Bobby to text me, saying he’s outside.

He won’t knock on our door, or come inside; he says he doesn’t like spending time at my place because I have roommates. But I haven’t told them, because how could I? It would give them even more reason to hate him. I know Bobby hasn’t been the best boyfriend in their eyes. It’s starting to irritate me too, but I’m sure it’s just a rough patch. All relationships go through them. Well, that’s what I tell myself.

The emotional moment in the movie comes, and my chest aches. It’s a scene that reminds me love isn’t easy, or alwaysreciprocated, but can still be beautiful in its own way.“To me, you are perfect.”I sigh, sinking farther into the soft fabric of the sofa. I’m a hopeless romantic, obsessed with love. I adore this feeling, and I want to experience it in my own life. Even if Bobby has said he loves me, he’s never the one to initiate it. When I say, “I love you,” he says, “Me too.”

Some people show affection in different ways, and I guess that’s not his style. And that’s okay. I imagine us getting engaged, married, and having kids. I just need to wait a little longer for him to see I’m mature and ready. My parents don’t show a lot of affection to each other either; no hand holding, no PDA, so I don’t expect our relationship to be any different.

The movie ends, and I hold back the tears in my eyes so they don’t ruin my makeup.

Blinking rapidly, I look for my phone that’s slipped off the sofa and landed on the floor. I grab it and realize it’s been half an hour. Our reservation is for…now, and if we are more than ten minutes late, they will give the table away. With a sense of unease, I pick up the phone and dial him. His phone doesn’t ring; it goes straight to voicemail.

My heart feels like it’s shrinking. Where is he? A moment later, my phone chimes.

Bobby:Sorry, I’m in a meeting. I won’t be able to come to dinner. Celebrate with your friends.

I stare at my phone, as my chest grows tight, restricting my breathing. But it’s my birthday…Surely, his boss doesn’t require him to stay this late. He wouldn’t have chosen this. No, there's no way. I type a quick response, hoping to change his mind.

Me:Really? It’s my birthday. I told you I’ll drive and we can just go for an hour.

Bobby:No, I can't. I have a long night ahead of me. I’ve told you my job comes first. This is important to me.

Me:AndI’m not important to you?

I lower my head and sag into the back of the sofa, feeling suddenly nauseous.

“He’s not coming?” Summer asks in a clipped tone. I forgot for a moment she was beside me. Her hand touches my arm, and I wince. Pulling her hand away, she lifts the blanket off her, revealing her comfy green sweats. “He’s such a dick. But fuck it. It’s your birthday.”

I tilt my head and look at her in confusion.

“I’m going to go with you! I’ll text Nova, and she can meet us after dinner.”

My mouth falls open slightly, heart swelling with gratitude.

“Sounds good,” I say, pulling myself together.

Having fun with my friends, even if for a few hours, might be all I need. Summer runs to her room, and there's a lot of banging around. When my phone chimes again, my breath hitches. I read the new message.

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