Billionaire on the Loose

by Jessica Clare

  So he tried texting her. He’d not sent her a word since they’d parted. At first, it was because he’d felt ashamed of how he’d acted and a text-apology seemed wrong. Then, he’d realized how much he’d missed her and he’d decided to wait to contact her until he was back in New York, that way he could show her that he was trying to change instead of just giving lip service to the concept.

  Of course, now that he was here, the time lost felt like missed opportunity. Would she have been receptive to his calls if he’d tried? He didn’t know, and thinking about it was making him a little crazy.

  Loch: Taylor? It’s me, Loch. Can we talk?

  That felt . . . weirdly stiff. He stared down at the text for a moment and then added on to it.

  Loch: I’ve missed you. A lot. Text me back.

  Then he waited.

  Nothing.

  After an impatient half hour, he put the phone aside. Either she wasn’t near her phone or deliberately not answering him. Maybe he could find her online, then. He pulled his computer onto his lap and logged into Excelsior. His character appeared in Cityport, in front of a building. He didn’t see Taylor’s character around but, then again, he wasn’t entirely sure how it worked. Last time he’d played he’d just typed and sent her a message, right?

  So he tried that. Taylor are you on? Can we talk?

  Someone ran past him and paused.

  SoySawse: LOL NOOB.

  Loch frowned at his screen. He typed again.

  Brunhilde: Taylor is that you?

  SoySawse: Dood u realize ur just talking in the main town?

  Brunhilde: No, what do I do? I am trying to find a friend.

  SoySawse: LOL ur so noob.

  Prick. But at least he knew what he was talking about, which was more than he could say for himself.

  Brunhilde: Can you help me?

  SoySawse: Sure. Type in /duel Soysawse & that will take us 2 a chat & I cn help u.

  Now they were getting somewhere. Loch typed in the command, though it seemed an odd one. Maybe duel was shorthand for a two-person chat?

  The moment he hit Enter, a red flag showed up on the screen. BRUNHILDE HAS CHALLENGED SOYSAWSE TO A DUEL.

  What? That wasn’t what he wanted to do—

  The other character pulled out a gigantic sword, struck him, and Loch’s toon died instantly. His ghost appeared.

  BRUNHILDE HAS LOST A DUEL TO SOYSAWSE!

  WAITING 30 SECONDS FOR BRUNHILDE TO RESPAWN.

  The character ran a circle around him, then squatted over the corpse of Loch’s character’s head and began to move up and down.

  SoySawse: LOL. Man u really are new. Have some teabags, noob.

  Brunhilde: You’re a fucking prick.

  SoySawse: LOL YUP

  Damn this game. He glared at his screen, watching as SoySawse “teabagged” his corpse over and over again. When the countdown timer finished, he reappeared over his body, naked. He clicked on his body and recollected his armor. Damn it. All he wanted to do was talk to Taylor, not get in a pissing war with some idiot named after an incorrectly spelled condiment.

  A moment after he finished putting on his armor again, a message popped up.

  Madrigal: Hello again, friend! Welcome back to the game.

  Oh. It was the guy he’d met at the convention. The nice one. He tried typing in a response. Hi Madrigal. The words went into the main screen again. Damn it. How did he get them in the chat window?

  SoySawse was still nearby and hooted with laughter.

  SoySawse: U still haven’t figured out messages? It’s /msg dumbass!

  Loch scowled at the screen, wondering if it was another trap. But /msg seemed . . . well, likely. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t already died. He tried it.

  Brunhilde: Hi, this is Loch.

  Success!

  Brunhilde: It is nice to see you again, Madrigal. How are you, mate?

  Madrigal: Doing great! Thought I’d see if you needed any help. :)

  Brunhilde: I’m looking for Taylor. Is she on?

  There was a long pause.

  Madrigal: Oh gosh, buddy, I don’t know how to tell you this but she quit the game about a month ago.

  Madrigal: Sorry. :(

  Brunhilde: No worries. Thanks.

  Loch logged out of Excelsior, frowning to himself. She’d quit the game? But she loved the game. She played daily, even when she barely had any time. Not only did she have intense devotion to her guild, but there was Sigmund, who she had some sort of strange, tethered relationship to. Had something happened there?

  If she wasn’t on the game and not answering her phone, how the hell was he supposed to find her?

  Gretchen.

  Of course. He immediately phoned Gretchen. She couldn’t ignore him since he was in her wedding, right?

  But his call immediately went to voice mail.

  Loch gritted his teeth. Damn it. Now this was just getting ridiculous.

  ***

  Loch tried all day to get ahold of Gretchen. She never answered any of his voice mails, and so he emailed her as well. He considered emailing his assistant and asking him to find Taylor’s street address for him, but he was trying to be independent, and crawling to someone else for help on the very first day seemed like defeat.

  So he Googled.

  Not that it did any good. Taylor was the expert with computers, not him, and he suspected if she didn’t want her personal information to show up online, she knew how to scrub it. He couldn’t find any information on a Taylor Westfield who lived in New York City, other than a Facebook profile . . . which meant he also had to make a Facebook profile. Damn it. He spent a few minutes setting one up, and then tried to friend her.

  Waiting for approval.

  Ah, fuck. She was never going to approve him. Stupid computer was thwarting him at every turn.

  ***

  The next morning, Loch went out for an extra-long run to get some of his frustrations out. Everything in Central Park was the same, right down to the gentleman that he’d bought water from in the past. This time, he gave him correct change instead of foisting a twenty at the man, who looked disappointed at the turn of events.

  On his walk home, he saw a familiar dirty lump resting at the mouth of an alley. Yet another thing that hadn’t changed. He veered toward it, a smile lighting his face. “Hello, Rex. Nice to see you again.”

  The bearded man looked up, squinting. “Hey, it’s the Loch Ness Monster. How are ya, man?”

  I’m lost and miserable and I fucked up the best thing in my life. “Managing. Want to grab lunch?” Loch could use the company.

  “The regular spot? Don’t mind if I do.” He got to his feet and dusted off his layers of clothing. “Lead the way, my friend.”

  The diner was fairly empty and as they went to the counter, Loch saw a woman giving them a revolted look as Rex set his plastic bag of belongings down on the stool next to him. He felt a surge of protectiveness for his odd friend. Rex deserved to have lunch just like everyone else. Loch clapped him on the back and gave him a half-armed hug, trying to show his approval to the world—or at the very least, the rest of the diners. “I’m glad to see you again.”

  Rex grunted. “You, too. Been a few weeks. Business trip?”

  Loch sat down and pulled out the menu, studying it for something less noxious than the hamburger he normally ordered. A grilled cheese looked promising. Surely they couldn’t mess up a grilled cheese, could they? “Actually, I went home.”

  “Back home to Switzerland? Belarus? What was that place called?”

  “Bellissime.”

  “Right.” He peered at Loch. “So if you went home, how come you came back?”

  Loch was silent, mentally trying to parse out how much to talk about. He wanted to pour out all his feelings for Taylor, the despair h
e felt knowing he’d lost her, but he wasn’t sure how Rex would take it. So he said nothing. The waitress came over to them and they ordered food. He turned back to Rex once both orders were in and two glasses of soda were set down in front of them. “I came back because I went home and it wasn’t the same.”

  “You got bored?” Rex guessed.

  “I did.” He smiled ruefully. “The bubble I was living in? I think it burst.”

  “Can’t say that’s a bad thing. Sometimes getting out of your comfort zone is good.”

  “It is,” Loch agreed. The conversation felt woefully . . . inadequate. Like he was skirting around the real issue. He decided to take a chance. “The real reason I came back . . . the girl I mentioned? I messed it up. I came back because I wanted to make it right with her.”

  Rex pocketed a stack of napkins. “You didn’t tell her the truth, did you?”

  “Nope.” He felt sick, and the smell of greasy food just made it worse.

  “Thought you could get away with it?”

  “Yeah. I was pretty wrong about that, it seems.” Loch sighed and took a sip of his drink. “Wrong about a lot of things. I didn’t realize how much she meant to me until I lost her.”

  “Happens that way with a lot of women.”

  That didn’t make him feel better. “I need her back. I’m nothing without her.”

  “Nice words, but I imagine she’ll have a say in the matter.”

  She would. He thought of Taylor’s hurt, angry face, the tears she’d wept when she’d realized he was using her. His stomach knotted all over again. “I imagine she will. But if I can fix it, I want to give it a try. I want to fix what I broke with her. And I want to fix what’s wrong with me. I’m tired of being dependent on everyone else. I’m going to stand on my own two feet for a while. Get a house, figure out what I want to do with my life, the works.”

  Rex nodded slowly. “I’m proud of you. Takes balls to admit when you’re wrong.”

  Strangely enough, Rex’s praise felt good. “Thanks. I want to help you, too.”

  “Oh?” The man’s tone became distant, wary.

  “Not charity,” Loch said quickly. “I want to help you get on your feet because you’ve been a good friend to me and I’d do that for any of my friends. I don’t want anything out of it other than to help you. Tell me what you need.”

  Rex grunted and took a long drink of his soda, emptying the glass down to the ice. He shook it at the waitress, then looked over at Loch. “I don’t need anything other than a friend, Loch Ness. I’m not into handouts.”

  “Really? Because you take my handouts every time I come by.”

  Rex snorted with laughter. “Turning the tables on me? I like it! All right. Fair enough. Maybe it’s not the handouts as much as I don’t like being beholden to anyone. You know the feeling.”

  “I do. Very much so.” Loch rubbed his chin, thinking. “What do you like to do? For a living?”

  “Why? You offering me a job? You don’t even have one.”

  “Humor me.”

  Rex was silent for a long moment, then glanced over at Loch. “Grew up on a farm. I like horses. Cattle. Things like that. Working with my hands.” His smile grew thin. “Good luck finding me that here in the city.”

  “Actually . . .” Loch grinned and clapped a hand on Rex’s back. “Did I mention I’m purchasing a house here? And probably a few horses? I could use a man to look after my stables once I get settled.”

  Rex’s bushy brows drew together. He scratched at his beard. “Why are you so fired up to hire a fuckin’ hobo? For all you know, I murdered someone and got out of prison and that’s why I’m on the street.”

  “Did you?”

  “No. But there probably ain’t gorgeous stuff on my background check, if you know what I’m saying.”

  “Then I’ll pay you like shit. Room and board and minimum wage or some other equally terrible deal if it’ll make you feel better.” Loch sipped his drink again, waiting for Rex to mull over the offer. “It’s not charity. I’m going to hire someone to look after my horses because I love riding. Might as well be you unless you can give me a good reason for it not to be you. I like to hire friends.”

  Rex’s mouth pursed. He stared ahead for a long time. Then slowly, he nodded. “Thanks, man. I . . . I appreciate it.” He looked over at Loch. “You gonna go around saving every hobo in New York? That’s gonna end up being some big-ass house.”

  “No, but I imagine I’ll need a groundskeeper and a few other staff if you have any friends that are struggling. You can tell them the pay is wretched but it’s room and board included. And it probably won’t be in the city. I can’t see having horses close to here. Might be too far out for most to bother with.”

  “I’ll let you know. And if it’s going to be that far out, I might need another dollar or two an hour so I can afford a car . . . or at least a bicycle.”

  “Fair enough. We’ll talk price when I buy the place and move in.” Loch felt good. This was good. It was a start. Plus, he was being selfish—if Rex worked for him, he’d get the pleasure of his company every day, and he enjoyed their chats. They made him think. He needed that in his life, needed people to point out to him that he was being a spoiled child. “Might be a couple of weeks.”

  “Well, you know where I’ll be,” Rex said dryly.

  “Can I put you up somewhere until then?” At the dirty look Rex shot him, Loch raised his hands in the air. “All right, all right. One step at a time.”

  They fell into a comfortable silence as the waitress refilled their glasses and then dropped off their plates. Loch took a bite of his grilled cheese. A bit greasy, but still tasty.

  “So,” Rex said, eating a French fry. “Tell me more about the girl. It didn’t work out with her?”

  “No.” Loch sighed and wiped his hands on his napkin, immediately losing his appetite. He’d had a hell of a time eating since Taylor had left him. “She got upset with me, and rightfully so. I should have fixed it then, but I let her walk away. Went home to lick my wounds. Kinda thought it was for the best, except . . .”

  “Except you miss her.”

  He nodded. “I miss her like I miss air. I shouldn’t have let her go. I didn’t realize until after she left that things between us were a little more real than I’d thought. I need to find her and win her back.”

  “So do it.”

  “I’m trying , but she won’t return my calls. Rightfully so, I might add.” He set his greasy sandwich down and stared at his plate. “I’m not sure how to get ahold of her.”

  “Well, you’re doing me a solid, so I can do you a solid,” Rex said agreeably.

  “That so?” Loch wiped his fingers absently, thinking about Taylor. She’d probably like Rex. And any horses that Loch bought. Though he’d have to get one for her, too, and it’d have to be gentle. Something high-spirited would dump her on the ground in an instant, his poor klutz. Providing she ever spoke to him again, of course. A hard, aching knot formed in his throat.

  “Yeah, I know where she works.”

  Loch paused. He turned to look at Rex, who was dragging fries through a pool of ketchup on his plate and then stuffing them into his mouth. “You do?”

  “I do,” Rex said. “Ran across her the other day. You told me she wears a Doctor Who scarf and a kitty-cat backpack, right? Can’t be that many adult women that do that sort of thing. Plus, she was real cute. Brown hair? Round face?”

  Loch nodded slowly, eyes wide. His heart thumped hard in his chest. “Where is she?”

  Rex gestured at his food. “Lemme finish my food and I’ll show ya.”

  ***

  When they left the diner, Rex led Loch down several streets teeming with pedestrians. He followed the man, pulse hammering wildly. Taylor was close, and he was dying to speak to her again. He wanted to look at her sweet face, to hear her hap
py laugh. To see her bright eyes sparkle when she found something funny.

  God, he missed her. It was like being homesick all over again, except this time, Taylor was his home, and he was lost without her.

  Rex stopped on a busy street corner, next to the crosswalk. He gestured across the street. “Over there. She’s been there every day for the last week giving out samples. Nice kid. She gives me extras and pretends like they’re leftovers.” He squinted up at Loch. “Don’t fuck it up this time.”

  Loch gazed across the busy, traffic-filled street. There was a small table set up on a curb and he could see the back of a woman as she talked to people and made notes on a clipboard. She seemed to be handing something out. It was impossible to make out any features from this distance, but he noticed her trademark scarf and backpack.

  Taylor.

  His woman. His fiancée for a few days, until he’d fucked things up and didn’t realize what he’d had until he’d screwed it up. The sight of her made him ache with longing. She was beautiful, and the way she moved as she handed out samples and spoke to people just made his entire body tense with this uncomfortable, awkward need. Not sexual desire—though it wouldn’t take much for that—but just . . . a craving. Like a junkie.

  Did she miss him? Did she wish he hadn’t been such a jerk? Did she regret leaving him like he regretted her leaving? Or was she fine without him? He wasn’t fine without her. Not in the slightest. She’d slipped into his life so effortlessly that he hadn’t realized how perfect for him she was until she was gone.

  With Taylor, there was sunshine and life and laughter. Without her, there was nothing but clouds. Sappy, maybe, but the words had never felt truer.

  “You just gonna stand there and gawk at her or you gonna go say something?” Rex elbowed him.

  Right. Loch took a deep breath, then paused and looked over at Rex. “I’m not good at this sort of thing.”

  “What sort of thing?”

  “Admitting I was wrong. Asking for someone to come back. Telling her that I fucked up and was a prat. That I treated her unfairly.” He rubbed his neck, unbearably tense. He couldn’t mess this up. “What should I say?”

  “Any of that is a pretty good starter.” Rex pushed at Loch’s back. “Now, quit being a pussy and get over there and talk to the girl. I’m going back to my spot. Thanks for lunch.”