Marry Me For Money

Terran

I should have been having a blast instead of feeling as if I were facing the most important decision of my life. It was one of those rock and hard place decisions. Damned if I did and damned if I didn’t.

“I need a drink,” I mumbled.

“I’ll get you one, sweetie.” A pretty blonde woman sitting on a leather couch across from me quickly jumped up to do just that.

Zach looked at me and smiled. “That was easy.”

It hadn’t exactly been what I meant. I needed a drink, but I didn’t expect her to fetch it for me. She was a guest. She returned a minute later with a margarita, the rim of the glass lined with salt. It wasn’t exactly the drink I had in mind, but it would do.

“Thank you,” I said, unable to remember her name.

She smiled. “Any time, Terran. If you need anything, you only have to ask.”

I smiled and nodded my head, ignoring the flirting. I wasn’t in the mood to flirt, which was out of character for me.

“Can you ladies give us a minute?” Zach asked.

The four women who had followed us downstairs quickly jumped up to leave us alone. We were relaxing in the mahogany sitting room below deck on my yacht. The sound of loud music coming from the top deck reminded me this was a party. As if I needed the thumping music as a reminder. Zach Bailey, my best friend in the world and the guest of honor at this little shindig on the Pacific Ocean, a few miles off the coast of Los Angeles, had been telling me to loosen up for the past hour.

“Dude, relax,” Zach said from his seat beside mine. “Get loose. This is my birthday party, and you’re killing the vibe.”

I shrugged. “I’m relaxed,” I lied. “I needed a minute out of the sun.”

“You’re not relaxed. You’re walking around as if you are personally responsible for holding up the world.”

I chuckled. “Sorry. I don’t want to be a downer. Let’s go up.”

We walked up the stairs to the top deck where the party was happening. I had spared no expense to give Zach a stellar party with excellent food catered by one of the top chefs in the city and a lot of alcohol. I heard a splash and knew someone had just hit the water. I had hired lifeguards as well, knowing alcohol and water could be a deadly combination.

“You need to do that,” Zach mumbled.

“Do what?” I asked, walking in front of him up the stairs.

“Jump into the water, shake off the worry,” he suggested.

I looked down at the swim shorts I was wearing. Bathing suits were the dress code for the party.

“I might,” I shot back.