Page 9 of Owned By a Billionaire

Did straitlaced Alice know? Maybe she’d leave him. However, it wouldn’t worry me if my seriously rich husband liked it both ways.

Helmut regarded me. “I saw Harry and his girl leave as I was pulling up.”

“I take it you know him personally?”

“Our little privileged, exclusive world is smaller than you think.” He tossed back his vodka in one gulp. “So, what do you think, a bit of a carnal frolic in the suburbs?”

I held his stare. “Rey’s real name, and no touching.”

“I’m a man of my word.” He laid his palm on his heart.

As I finished my drink, all I could think about was Harry’s sexual fluency and what I’d heard about Reynard.

Did I want to be affiliated with a pedophile?

And what of his vanished stepsister?

Despite looming questions, I wasn’t about to run from the promise of a bright future. I wanted that more than I felt the need to disassociate from someone who paddled in some cesspool of immorality.

And what would Alice think about her future husband’s hidden tastes?

What I’d just learned might prove to be the means to separate them. Although not exactly prim, Alice carried idealistic views about true love. She’d made no secret about her aspirations of marrying an adoring husband and being that doting wife and mother one saw in the movies.

Despite my itch to crash her little fantasy by sharing my view on the myth of a happily ever after romance, I would often humor her with some glib comment like “And so you will.”

Helmut rose from his barstool. He removed his Amex card from his wallet and gestured to the barman.

After paying, he helped me into my new red faux fur that cost me the equivalent of a month’s wage, then he opened the door for me. “After you.”

Out I stepped into the crisp, dark night. Revelers charged forth, and I moved aside before they bumped into me. Likewise, for a noisy gang of football fans.

“Mm.” Helmut raised his chin. “I like them butch.”

I smiled. “Careful.”

“I can handle myself, dear.”

From sleazy to avuncular, Helmut had grown on me a little.

As we made our way along Oxford Street, I asked, “Why go to this party at all? Since you like men?”

“You haven’t met Gregory.” He waved at his face and suddenly turned very fluffy. “I went to one of their little shindigs once.” His eyes lit up as though he was reflecting on a golden moment in his life. “The man is insatiable. He’s gorgeous in every way imaginable.”

“Is he gay?”

“Not in an out-there kind of way, but who knows? I mean, Harry has managed to keep his inclinations hidden.”

“Is Gregory Harry’s age?”

“No. He’s in his mid-forties and seriously sexy. Just watching him is enough.”

“But wouldn’t you feel left out?”

“I’ve got my boys. Don’t worry.”

I nodded. “So you’re an active homosexual?”

“Shh… keep it down.” He placed his hand to the side of his mouth. “Gregory’s my obsession, if you like. That’s why I want to go. And I’m so pleased that you’re coming. I know how open you are about these things.”

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