Slipperless #4: A Billionaire Love Story

by Sloan Storm

  For as far as I could see, blinking white filled the vast void overhead. It was all but impossible not to reflect on life in a situation like that. And that was exactly what I did. Lying out there for several nights in a row, I came to a number of conclusions.

  The first of these revolved around my own life.

  I was by no means an old man, not even close, but if I wasn’t careful I’d wake up one day and find myself middle-aged, worth billions, but on the declining side of life. That just wasn’t a scenario that I wanted for myself.

  You have to make extreme sacrifices to achieve extreme success.

  I’d known that since the day I started my business. None of that bothered me, because I had every confidence in my ability to achieve my goals. I’d put everything I had, including most of the last ten years of my life, into building it. And the truth was that whether the Link Protocol proved successful or not, I already had more money than I could possibly spend in my entire life.

  It occurred to me I’d been so driven, so focused on leveraging the Link Protocol and propelling Hawkins Biotech into a market-leading position, I’d allowed my desire for that to seriously fuck up my judgment. If I weren’t careful from this point forward, there’s no telling what the fallout would be, if I continued to make bad decisions like I had.

  I didn’t regret challenging Fiona in the way I had.

  After all, she volunteered to go back to the lab and fix the situation. Even so, I began to wonder if it was realistic to expect her to pull this off on her own. Right now, there was no way to have a clear answer about it. I would just have to find a way to apply pressure, but at the same time try to stay patient.

  And so, in an uncharacteristic change of mind for me, I decided we would continue to work on it as a team and let it be ready when it was ready.

  As far as Fiona and I were concerned, things weren’t quite as cut and dried.

  For whatever reason, Fiona didn’t trust me enough yet to share all the problems she had in her personal life. If it weren’t for the absolute necessity she had to tell me about what happened to her family on the boat, I doubted she would have shared anything with me.

  Although it was a frustrating realization, the truth was that aside from the couple of days we spent together on the island, she and I had not been alone together for an extended period of time.

  So, to some extent her reluctance to share the truth about what was going on with her grandmother and the mountain of debt associated with it was understandable. There would be time for us to sort things out, but one way or another she was going to have to learn to trust me. I saw no reason why she shouldn’t. I’d done nothing but good things for her.

  On the morning of fourth day, I made my way back from my self-imposed isolation and returned to my suite.

  Before I turned on my phone or my laptop, I grabbed a much-needed shower and put on a fresh change of clothes. After being on the beach for a few days, it’s amazing how good something as simple as a shower can be. It was just another reminder of how I ought to be looking at things in my life.

  I had to find a way to appreciate the simple things as well.

  There was no need to be so driven and utterly intense all the time.

  After I finished, I picked up my phone and switched it on for the first time in several days. In all likelihood, it would be filled with messages and any number of fires I’d have to put out. Yet, with my new attitude firmly in place, I didn’t worry about it. I’d already made up my mind there was literally nothing that was going to get me upset.

  As it flickered to life, it beeped and vibrated, confirming my suspicions. For nearly an hour, I steadily worked my way through each message and each problem, handling them with no impact on my relaxed state of mind.

  That is, until I received a message from Mrs. Jameson in Human Resources. She’d informed me Fiona had taken an indefinite leave of absence. I bit my lip as I listened to the message. It seems not only had she told Mrs. Jameson something she wouldn’t tell me, namely that her grandmother was dying, but she completely abandoned her responsibilities as team leader.

  I raked my fingers through my hair as I reached the end of her message.

  “God dammit,” I muttered. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. What in the hell was she thinking?”

  Just then, I threw my phone down, slamming it on top of the mattress in my bedroom. All of the time I’d spent in self-reflection—the peace I’d enjoyed—began to dissipate from my being. I could not believe what she had done, especially after everything I’d given to her.

  I snatched my phone off the bed, nearly crushing it in my grip as I did. Swiping it on, I dialed Fiona and prepared to give her a serious tongue lashing. But after the third ring, the call went straight to voicemail.

  I hung up and called her again.

  The same thing happened.

  I shook my head and thinned my lips, making up my mind right then and there about what I had to do. I’d be on the first plane back tomorrow morning and straighten out this fucking situation once and for all.

  FIONA

  

  I wasted no time rushing to my grandmother’s side after informing Mrs. Jameson about my intention to take a leave of absence.

  For his part, Gabe had been more or less relentless as he tried to get hold of me in the past day or so. Sooner or later I would have to deal with him and the consequences of my choice, but for now I’d been able to successfully avoid it.

  Even though she was gravely ill, my grandmother managed to regain some awareness in recent days. So much so that in fact, one evening I sat in her room at the hospital and shared dinner with her.

  Difficult though it was, neither of us chose to acknowledge the inevitable truth about her situation, even though we both knew it was just a matter of time. Still, she’d pulled through in so many similar situations in the past, a very small part of me held out hope that somehow we’d get through this as well.

  Anyway, at least for tonight, she was present with me in both mind and body.

  Of course, now that she’d regained consciousness, my grandmother wanted to know all about my trip to St. Barth’s. I left out most of what happened, only because it would bring up a number of questions that didn’t really matter. All I cared about right now was spending as much time as I could with her. My grandmother hardly ate a bite of her food, and perhaps because of that, I only picked at my dinner as well.

  “Fiona, why aren’t you eating my dear?”

  Her words barely reached the level of a whisper now as she spoke. I had to sit close so as not to make her strain.

  “Um,” I replied. “I’m just really not hungry right now.”

  I could tell part of her wanted to lecture me about all the things wrong with skipping a meal, but overcome by exhaustion, she seemed to have thought better of it.

  Holding my fork between my thumb and forefinger, I continued to scoot what remained of my meal around on the plate with thoughtless strokes. Just then, my grandmother closed her eyes and let out an exhausted breath.

  I turned my head towards her as she sputtered air from between her lips.

  “Are you okay, Grandmother?”

  With her eyes closed, she nodded. She remained silent for several seconds and then without lifting her head, she opened them once more and looked at me.

  “Fiona, did I ever tell you about the first time I met your father?”

  I shook my head as I looked at her. “No.”

  My grandmother closed her eyes again and began to shake her head back and forth with an easy rhythm on the pillow.

  “I didn’t like that boy,” she grumbled. “Not one bit.”

  An unexpected smile came to my lips. “Why not?”

  Her head rocked back and forth once or twice. She stopped and flipped her eyes open, looking at me again.

  “In a word… Arrogant, cocky, and irritating.”

  I placed my fork down on the plate with a gentle clink and looked at her. Chuckling, I r
eplied, “That’s three words, Grandmother.”

  “Is it?” she replied with a soft laugh. “Well, I suppose at this point math is the least of my problems.”

  I emitted a small laugh in return. “Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

  I sat there in silence for a moment, assuming she’d continue with her story. When she didn’t, I prodded her to do so with a question.

  “So it sounds like you changed your mind about him?”

  With her eyes still closed, she nodded her head.

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “It was your grandfather,” she mumbled, barely awake any longer. “He reminded me my own mother said the same thing about him for years. Anyway, your father pursued your mother relentlessly for months, until one day, he showed up at our doorstep with five dozen white lilies.”

  I covered my mouth at the thought of it. “Oh, my God.”

  She smiled and nodded a bit before continuing.

  “He told me that he wanted me to give him a chance and nothing more. I asked him what he would do if I refused.”

  I leaned in, prodding her. “What did he say?”

  She shrugged her shoulders with a nonchalant air. “He told me he would pursue your mother anyway.”

  “Wow,” I replied. “That took some guts.”

  “It did,” she replied. “As much as it surprised me, I felt as if he had the guts to do that, he’d be able to treat your mother right and look after her. I respected it.”

  I nodded in silence as she paused for a moment.

  “And then, he asked me if I wouldn’t mind if they had their date in the backyard of our house.”

  I wrinkled my brow. “In the backyard? What kind of date is that?”

  “Well,” she said, as she rolled her head on the pillow and looked at me. “Apparently, he’d spent his entire paycheck on the flowers he’d bought for me.”

  I smiled and shook my head.

  “Anyway, I made them sandwiches and the rest—as they say—is history.”

  Soon after she finished her story, my grandmother drifted off to sleep. As she did, I couldn’t help but notice the parallels between my father and Gabe.

  Each of them men determined to get what they wanted.

  Had she told me that story intentionally? After all, she didn’t know anything about Gabe, other than the little bit I’d shared. The only way to know for sure would be to wake her up and ask her. But as I looked at her, resting peacefully for the first time in days, I decided against it. Not long afterward, I pulled my legs up to my chest, hugged them close, and drifted off to sleep as well.

  When I awoke the next morning, I flipped my eyes open and immediately reached towards my neck. A couple of nights in a row of sleeping draped across a haphazard arrangement of chairs was beginning to take its toll.

  “Ahhhh,” I moaned, as I massaged the location of the pain.

  Still rubbing myself, I turned my head and glanced in the direction of my grandmother’s bed. Still sleeping, she appeared more comfortable than she had in a long time. I eased myself into a seated position for a moment just before I stood up. After a brief stretch, I made my way towards her.

  Streaks of early morning sunlight shined upon her face. It felt good to see her get some well-deserved rest after the past couple of weeks. Still not fully awake myself, I reached up and rubbed my eyes, wiping my palms across my face and attempting to bring myself back to full consciousness. With a final push of my hands through my hair, I blinked my eyes several times in rapid succession as I looked down at her.

  As much as I hated to wake her, it wouldn’t be long before the nurses came in and checked up on her. In spite of the advanced state of her illness, my grandmother always wanted to look her best, and it didn’t matter who it was.

  I slid my hand in my pocket and pulled out my nearly dead cell phone, glancing at the time with a quick swipe of my thumb. By my estimate, we had no more than about fifteen minutes before the nurses would arrive. I slipped my phone back inside of my pocket and reaching towards her, I laid my palm on my grandmother’s shoulder.

  I jostled her about with a gentle rocking motion. “Grandmother, it’s time to wake up.”

  As I tried to rouse her, the rising sun pierced my line of sight with an overwhelming burst of white. Blinking multiple times, I raised my hand in front of my eyes to shield it from the blinding light. As I did, halos clouded my vision and made it difficult to focus for the next several seconds. Soon however, I returned my attention to my still sleeping grandmother.

  “Grandmother,” I said once more, as I returned my hand to her bony shoulder. “It’s time to wake up. The nurses will be here soon.”

  By now, my eyes had adjusted to the brilliant brightness of the rising sun. Turning my head, I focused on my grandmother’s face. It remained expressionless, except for the faint hint of what looked to be a smile. I shook my head at her attempt at a joke, and after a short chuckle, I rocked her with a bit more effort.

  “Grandmother,” I began, as I moved her back and forth with a series of gentle shoves. “You need to wake up. Come on, you know how much you hate to have the nurses see you like this. It’s time to wake up.”

  As I released the pressure on her shoulder, I noticed her head collapse to the right. I swallowed, and really focused in on her for the first time since I’d awakened.

  Something about the way she moved wasn’t right.

  I reached towards her now, with both hands, grabbing her shoulders. I began to shake her.

  “Grandmother,” I said, with a bit of urgency in my tone. “This isn’t funny.”

  I shook her with a gentle rhythm at first. As I did her head bobbled on the pillow like a ragdoll. I released her, stepping away and covering my mouth with both hands.

  My voice trembled.

  “Grandmother…”

  And before I realized it, my vision went blurry.

  “Grandmother?!?”

  I began to shake, and my entire body felt as if it would fall out from beneath me, leaving me in a heap on the floor.

  “No, no, no! Please, Grandmother no!”

  Smearing the tears away from my face, I leaned over her frail body and grabbed a hold of her by the upper arms, and that was the first time I felt it.

  I don’t know why I hadn’t before, but now there was no question in my mind. Beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown, her skin felt cool to the touch.

  I snatched my hands away, bringing them back to cover my mouth once again. I moaned through a shaky, tear-filled gulp.

  “G-Grandmother,” I whispered, begging in desperation. “Please, no.”

  In stunned silence, I stood there next to her bedside staring down at her. She remained in the same position I’d jostled her into moments before. Just then, I felt a weakness come to my knees. On the verge of collapsing, I grabbed onto her bed.

  Leaning against it, I dropped my head and as my hair closed in upon my field of vision, I began to weep. Far beyond a feeling of loss, the tears that spilled from my eyes carried liquid remnants of my soul. They spattered on the blankets, slowly at first, and soon after, a torrent, as grief overwhelmed me.

  I reached for her hand, wrapping my fingers in between the now semi-rigid digits. I closed my fingers around hers, my forearm quivering. And now, as I looked at her, I realized my greatest fear was upon me. My rock, my anchor, and the only person who’d steadied me for years, was gone.

  I stood over her for a minute, or two, or twenty…

  I had no idea how long I’d been there when the nurses finally entered. Right away they noticed my distraught state and rushed towards my grandmother’s bedside. As they did, they urged me to move away, hoping against hope that they’d be able to do something to save her. But as I backed away, I shook my head. There would be no saving her. The truth was that even if they’d been there, nothing would have prevented her from slipping away.

  Soon after, the doctor came into the room as well. For some time, I have no idea
how long, he asked me any number of questions about what happened. I did the best I could under the circumstances, but I saw it as a pointless exercise.

  What did it matter when I noticed, or how long I thought it had been?

  She was gone, she was gone…

  Gone.

  FIONA

  My grandmother had her funeral plot picked out and paid for years ago.

  She’d been married to my grandfather for more than thirty years when he died. In all the time she and I were together, she only ever had wonderful things to say about him. Towards the end of her life, she openly expressed what can only be described as happiness at the idea of being buried next to him. As someone in my early twenties, I found it hard to relate to that sentiment.

  Of course, part of it was due to the fact that I never had a man like my grandfather in my life. I suppose when you spend the majority of your life with one person, it’s only natural to want to spend all of eternity with them as well. In any case, the day of my grandmother’s funeral arrived. Although I didn’t have any close relationships, the few friends I did have were supportive of me and accompanied me.

  Next to the loss of my parents and siblings, the day was the worst experience of my life and so I was grateful for the support I did receive. Beyond the obvious emotion of grief, numbness was the only sensation I felt any longer. The sole reason I’d struggled to get to where I was now lay before me, gone forever. I’d been in such a daze in the immediate aftermath of her passing that I’d completely lost touch with everything happening at Hawkins Biotech.

  I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d spoken to Gabe.

  Where would I find the motivation to continue? I had no idea how much this latest round of hospital visits was going to cost, but if the total amount I owed now was closer to three quarters of a million dollars, it wouldn’t have surprised me.

  Surrounded by my friends on all sides, I reached down into the casket and placed my palm on top of my grandmother’s arm.

  I’d cried so many tears in the days since her passing that it didn’t seem as if any more of them remained. Yet in those final moments, when I began to realize I would never see her again, liquid heat found its way into my eyes once again. As the salty discharge made its way down my cheek, I clutched at a damp tissue, doing my best to dab away my sadness.