Page 1 of Billionaire’s Game

Chapter One

“Lesli,do you want to take Mr. Boo?”

“What?” I said, turning away from the suitcase I was attempting to pack. It was more like I was stuffing it with random articles of clothing because I wasn’t sure what I’d need. It was probably full to the brim with useless stuff, but I had no idea what people wore in South Florida. I would probably need my mom to sit on my suitcase just to get it closed, I thought as I turned toward her.

Mom held up the toy in question—a stuffed bear with a grumpy little face—then looked down at it wistfully. I could tell from her expression that she was remembering when she’d first given him to me on my fifth birthday. Mr. Boo and I had been inseparable until I was about ten years old. And when I had gone off to college at fifteen, my mom had insisted that I take him with me. Of course, I’d hid him for years in the closets of my various dorm rooms. I’d already been considered a freak because I was at least three years younger than most other college freshmen. I hadn’t needed Mr. Boo to make me look even more of a child.

For someone who wasn’t very sentimental, Mom was more attached to Mr. Boo than I was.

“No, I think I’ll leave him. You can take him back home with you,” I said, turning back to stare at the pile of underwear I had failed to pack. They were all cotton, some threadbare and fading.

My mom grimaced at the pile. “Those undies have seen better days. You should just toss them.”

I shook my head, surprised by her suggestion. “That would be a waste of money.” I was probably the cheapest person I knew, aside from my mom, of course.

“What do you think, Mr. Boo?” she asked the teddy bear. “Should we just toss them?” I rolled my eyes and Mom laughed. “You used to love him, once upon a time. And now you’re kicking him to the curb.”

“That was kindergarten, Mom. Kindergarten,” I said, chewing on my lip as I tried to figure out what to pack and what to leave.

I was moving out of my small apartment in West Virginia and relocating to Florida to live with my cousin, Lacey, who was more of a big sister than a cousin. My mother had raised us both and I really missed spending time with her. I hadn’t seen Lacey in at least a year.

I sort of had a job waiting for me in Florida, but besides that, I didn’t know what I planned to do once I actually stepped off the plane, but that was fine with me. I’d spent my life always having a plan and now I was done with planning. I wanted adventure.

A few hours later, I was done packing and, thanks to my mom, my apartment was fully cleaned. I looked around at where I had spent the past four years and sighed.

“I’m going to miss this place,” I said turning toward Mom who immediately avoided looking me in the eye.

I frowned. “You ok?”

She nodded and hastily turned away from me. She made her way to my little kitchen and started moving a box. She started to sniffle, and I put a hand out, stopping her from leaving.

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah, I’m just a little, you know... sad that you’re leaving.”

I smiled and said, “I’m just going to Florida. It’s not as if I’m going to another country or something.”

She sighed. “I know. I know. I feel so silly, but I’m going to miss you like crazy.”

“I’m going to miss you too.”

We weren’t exactly huggers, so we just awkwardly stared at each other until one of us broke eye contact.

“Come on, let’s get a move on. You have a plane to catch.”

And with that, she picked up the last box. I followed her and gave my apartment one last glance before closing the door on that chapter of my life. College was done. Real life, here I come.

I satdown in my seat and took a deep breath. As I reached for the seatbelt, I realized my hands were shaking. I was terrified of flying. I’d flown only a handful of times throughout my life and I was hoping to keep it that way after this Florida trip. I had Benadryl in my purse that I knew would put me straight to sleep, but I was trying to wait until we took off. I didn’t want to take it too early and risk waking up while we were still in the air. Just the thought of being in the air made my heart skip a beat. I was trying my best to stay calm and was practicing breathing exercises discretely when a voice said, “You’re not about to throw up, are you?”

“Excuse me?” I said, turning in the direction of the woman who was shoving her carry-on above my head. She was short, curvy and had masses of curly blonde hair. She had large brown eyes and looked a little like a stripper. Her shorts were barely covering her behind and her breasts seemed ready to fall out of her top.

I discreetly tried to look elsewhere, given that I was afraid that at any moment, her boobs were going to spill out and flash me.

I looked at my own clothes. I was wearing worn walking shoes, an old gym shirt and khaki shorts that I’d owned since tenth grade. I hadn’t gained weight or developed much of a body since high school. I used to joke with Mom that puberty skipped me because my breasts never grew past an A cup. Frankly, I thought I was more of an A minus cup. To say my boobs were on the smaller side was an understatement, and I only wore a bra when I had to do a presentation or something, otherwise, I was too flat chested for people to notice when I went braless.

I looked like a stereotypical nerd. I wore glasses, had plain brown eyes and pale skin that burned easily in the sun. I never wore my hair down. I normally kept it pinned up in a sloppy bun. I made it my goal right there and then to get a makeover while in Miami. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about my appearance, I’d just been too busy to make it much of a priority. I wanted new clothes. A new look. A new life. I was twenty-three years old and still didn’t really know who I was. I was hoping that Florida would help me find... well, me.

“You look like you’re about to throw up,” she repeated sitting down.