The Billionaire's Favourite Mistake(6)

     



 

It was sweet of her vader, really, to call on Greer even though she was  busy in New York, but it had been a while since she'd seen him. And  really, she was flattered he'd thought of her, no matter the  circumstances, so she'd agreed to go even though she'd been feeling a  bit under the weather lately.

By the time they landed, Greer was feeling much more like herself. Her  sickness had passed, she'd eaten some crackers, and she was ready to  enjoy a few days in Las Vegas. This would be like a vacation, she told  herself. A chance to get away and reset from all of the things that were  currently bothering her in New York City.

Like the fact that she was still beating herself up over sleeping with Asher.

Or the fact that she'd been avoiding him ever since. Monday lunches? A  thing of the past. If she never saw him again, it'd be too soon.

The Dutchman white limo was waiting for her when the plane landed, and  the driver must have been new, because he looked a little surprised to  see her. Sure, she was brown and small and her father was a blond  European. She was tempted to take out her ID and show him her name, but  decided to be nice and not cruel to the poor driver.

He took her to the Dutchman castle, on the outskirts of Vegas. Her  father adored pomp and bombast, and his home was no different. Most  people would be happy with a mansion in Vegas. Not Stijn Janssen. He  wanted one that looked like a castle, complete with a moat, two towers  that looked as if they were topped by breasts, and a drawbridge with his  initials carved into the wood. She suspected that if her father could  get away with a coach drawn by white horses, he'd do that, too.

No one came out to greet her when the limo pulled up to the mansion.  That wasn't surprising. Sometimes her father had a girlfriend who took  on the role of hostess, but most of the time they were just fame-bunnies  looking to spend her father's money, and cash in on a bit of notoriety.  Greer took her bag from the driver, wheeled it to the staff entrance  instead of the garish front double doors, and let herself in.

"Greer!" The moment she entered, there were people to greet her. Marta,  the head cook, rushed out and showered Greer with air kisses. "Look at  you! So pretty. Just like your mother." Two of the elderly butlers came  and hugged her as well, and it felt a bit like coming home.

"Hi, guys." Greer hugged the staff, smiling at familiar faces and  shaking the hands of new ones. "Good to see you all. How are things?  Vader treating you well?"

Marta rolled her eyes and wiped her hands on her apron. "Look at you.  Carrying in your own suitcase. Lucas! Take that upstairs for Greer. Put  it up in the Yellow Room."

The man named Lucas-young and very new to the staff-paused. "I think Kiki's in the Yellow Room."

"Dios mio," Marta breathed, shaking her head. "One of your father's new girlfriends."

"I can sleep in one of the staff rooms. It's no big deal." She'd prefer  it, really. No one ever tried to get into one of the staff rooms late  at night, thinking there'd be a nubile Dutchgirl in the bed.

"I don't like it," Marta said with a frown, but waved Lucas ahead. "Your father, he's got three girlfriends right now."

"Three?" Greer wrinkled her nose and pulled up one of the stools near  the main kitchen table. There were fresh vegetables all over the table,  being cut into various shapes. She plucked a star-shaped wedge of  cucumber off the pile and popped it in her mouth. "Let me guess. Blonde,  busty, and under twenty-five?"

Marta crossed herself and nodded. "Your father definitely has a type.  This time, it's triplets. Bunni, Kiki, and Tiffi. All vegan." She shook  her head and picked up her knife, starting to chop again.

"Well, that sounds dreadful for you." Marta loved working for Greer's  father, but her life got harder depending on the girlfriends in the  house. If they didn't eat the same things as Mr. Janssen, it meant more  work for the kitchen.

Marta shrugged and began to chop another cucumber slice into a star  shape. "At least they don't eat a lot. But we've been cooking with a lot  of tofu lately."         

     



 

"I'll note that for the celebration party." Tofu. Triplets. My, this was getting interesting already.

"If they're still around by then," Marta corrected, raising her  eyebrows. "You never know with your father." She bustled over to the  oven.

Well, Marta had a point. Her father had never married and loved having  an endless stream of new girlfriends. Some lasted a week, some lasted  years. Rarely was there just one. Her father liked variety.

Which explained the triplets. Sort of.

"You're just in time for lunch," Marta said, opening the oven. "We're  having quinoa, spinach, and tofu loaf. I promise it's better than it  sounds."

As Marta pulled the pan out of the oven, the smell of the food wafted  into the air, and Greer's stomach rebelled. She jerked to her feet and  raced for the nearest bathroom, leaving behind a startled Marta and her  helpers. Luckily, Greer made it safely to the toilet before she tossed  her crackers.

When she was done puking her guts out, she oddly felt a lot better. So  strange. Greer washed her face with a wet towel, rinsed her mouth, and  returned to the kitchen.

Marta was eyeing her with a curious look. "You all right?"

She grimaced. "Stomach bug." Her hand patted her waist. "Caught it a few days ago and can't seem to shake it."

Marta clucked and moved to Greer, putting an arm around her shoulders  like a doting grandmother. "It's good that you're here. I'll fix you  right up. You go to your room and sleep and when you wake up, I'll make  you a nice warm soup and take care of you."

Greer felt a rush of love for the old housekeeper. When she'd been a  lonely child growing up, Marta had always had time for her, and made her  special treats to let her know she was loved. Soup made by Marta would  fix a million ailments, as would just spending some time in her warm  kitchen. This was what she needed to reset all the feelings of misery  and unhappiness from the last few weeks.

Going up to her room sounded good, but she hesitated. "I should probably say hello to Vader."

"Pfft. He's not even here. He's on-site for a photo shoot." She ushered  Greer toward the back stairs that led to the staff rooms. "You go rest  up and you call the kitchen if you need anything. Do you want some  medicine?"

"I'm fine." She kissed Marta's cheek and gave her a smile. "It's so good to see you again."

The woman pinched Greer's cheek as if she were a child. "Go rest."

So she did. The staff rooms were small and plain, and the single bed  she laid down in was laughably small compared to the palatial guest  rooms upstairs. But she liked it better with the staff, always had, and  she fell asleep right away despite having napped on the plane. She was  home.

Several hours later, she woke up, feeling refreshed. Greer changed her  clothes, pulled her hair back into her typical braid, put her glasses  on, and headed downstairs for some of the soup she'd been promised. True  to her word, Marta had made a batch of chicken noodle, but she insisted  on serving Greer in the dining room. Greer was a Janssen, Marta  explained, and she needed to be treated like one.

That was how she got to meet the triplets.

The dining room in the Dutchman castle seated twenty-four, because her  father loved to entertain. The table itself was long and wooden, and the  entire room was set up like a medieval dining hall, complete with  massive fireplace at one end and pennants hanging from the ceiling.  Crowded around one end of the table were three identical blondes noisily  chewing salads. They looked over at her as she entered, but didn't get  up.

Greer sat down underneath the rose pennant, her "usual" spot when she  was visiting. It also thankfully placed her at the opposite end of the  table from the triplets. A moment later, soup and crackers was served to  her, and Greer gave the staffer a grateful smile before picking up her  spoon and tucking in.

She'd had about three bites of Marta's delicious soup before the whispering started to get annoying.         

     



 

"Is she one of the centerfolds?" asked one.

"Get real. Look at her." This was accompanied by a snort.

Well, there went her self-esteem. Nothing like being home. She took another mouthful of soup.

"But why's she here?"

"She's not a centerfold," said another. "She's got no tits."

"You can buy those!"

At that, she nearly choked on a noodle.

"A new girlfriend, then?"

"But he's got us."

"He'd say something, wouldn't he?"

"Stijn didn't tell me, and I thought he told me everything." There was a pout in that voice.

"I can't believe it! He's cheating on us!"

After that ridiculous statement, Greer put her spoon down and calmly  wiped her mouth. She should probably say something before they worked  themselves into a frenzy. She looked over at them. They were all  incredibly beautiful, in an overly made-up sort of way. Big, processed  blonde hair flowed over tanned shoulders and all three women had high  cheekbones, nose jobs, and boob jobs. They wore bikinis to  dinner-naturally-and one was in pink, one in baby blue, and one in  purple. They also didn't look very bright. One girl's big lips were  quivering as if she were about to cry as she stared down Greer, her fork  poised over her salad.