Page 1 of The Bluffing Game

Chapter 1

SAGE

“Do you think hot, rich, and good in bed is too much to ask for in a man?” my sister, Rosie, asks me, a teasing note in her voice as she dances in her seat. Her long, dark, wavy hair cascades past her shoulders and seems to move in time with the beat of the Gracie Abrams song playing in the car.

“I don’t think it’s too much to ask for, but I sure don’t know if it’s realistic to expect.”

“If you could only have two of those qualities in a man, which would you choose?”

“Asking all the hard questions today, huh, Rosie?”

I look over at her open, inquisitive face, and all she can do is grin at me, her brown eyes challenging me to make a decision like my life depends on it.

“Let me think.” I tap my fingers against the steering wheel and attempt to stifle a yawn.

I’m tired of driving and ready to reach our destination. We’ve been in the car for what feels like decades now, though it’s only been a few days.

“Tic Tac me,” I say as I continue to think.

She opens the plastic container and pours a couple of the minty treats into my hand. I pop them into my mouth and chew.

“Number one will have to be rich. No shade to the poor men, but if I’m going to deal with a testosterone-filled dummy for the rest of my life, he’d better have money.”

“They’re not all dummies,” Rosie protests like she’s offended for all the men in the world.

She’s still a little naive, and she hasn’t experienced the reality that men let you down more often than not. I love that for her and want to keep her protected, but I no longer live with my head in the clouds.

“Sure, not all men are dumb, but let me make sure my man is rich, just in case.”

“And the second trait you’re looking for?”

“I mean, hot would be nice, but if he can’t rock what he’s working with, what’s the point of him being hot?”

“You can teach him what you like.” Rosie is ever the voice of reason, but the poor girl doesn’t realize it’s not that simple when the male ego is involved.

“Yeah, I suppose. So, yeah, rich, handsome, and smart.”

“But those are three things.” She shakes her head. “Only two, remember?”

“Trust me, I remember.” I grin at her and then slow my speed so we can stare out at the view of the Pacific Ocean to the left of us. “This is beautiful,” I whisper, excitement swirling in my veins.

We are finally here, and I can’t quite believe it. We are doing what so many people talk about doing.

We are following our dreams. Well, kinda. We packed up our bags and moved to the richest city in the country. If your goal is to marry a well-off, handsome, and intelligent man, that’s quite a smart move. And I am actually rather simple in my wants; I only need two of those qualities. Doesn’t matter which two either. I want to feel settled for once in my life.

If a random stranger heard that my sister and I had just moved to Santa Capinari, also known as Billionaires’ Valley, to meet rich men, they would call us gold diggers, but the fact of the matter is that we’re not, at least not in the narrowest meaning of the word. We are definitely diggers in some capacity, but we don’t necessarily seek gold. We are okay with platinum or silver as well. Though I’d be lying if I said we’d be okay with copper pennies. Who spends their time digging for pennies? So, yeah, at first glance, it might seem like my sister and I are gold diggers, but the reality is far more complicated.

We don’t want husbands just to be married. Nor do we want them only to have money. We can make our own money. We want husbands and money and security because of the illusion that we grew up with our entire lives. We spent our childhood and teenage years believing those things brought happiness, and at the end of the day, what we crave most from life is to be happy.

“Do you think we should go for multibillionaires, or is one billion net worth enough?” Rosie asks as we drive our rented Honda along the Pacific Coast Highway, headed toward our newly rented studio apartment.

We can’t move in until tomorrow, but we are going to stay in a cheap motel for the night, right up the street.

“I think anything over six zeroes is enough.” I keep my eyes ahead of me and focus on the road because it’s super curvy, and the strong wind makes me nervous that I could drive over the edge and have us face down in the Pacific Ocean. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?”

“It’s amazing.” Rosie’s voice sounds ethereal as she stares at the vibrant blue water to our left. The tall, dramatic, statuesque cliffs greatly enhance the beauty of our scenery. “I feel like I’m in a painting or a movie.”

“Tell me about it. Maybe this will be our final home,” I say hopefully, and she murmurs her agreement.