by Mia Kayla
“Appealing area we have here.” Kent’s face turned serious.
He glanced around to the people at the bus stop. They were gawking back at us, most likely because of the car they’d only seen in the movies or in magazines.
“It’s just a few more blocks that way.” I pointed as Kent continued to drive.
I placed both hands in my lap to stop the bouncing of my knees, and I tried to take deep breaths to calm the rushed beating in my chest.
“I’m not sure this is such a good idea. Why don’t we pick up something on the way? I need to get gas anyway.”
“No, you’ll love this joint. You’ll probably never come back to Bowlesville. The food at this place is awesome. One bite of their Burrito Bomb, and I swear, you’ll forget your name. It’s just that good.” I gave him my sweetest smile. “Unless you’re scared,” I sassed. I crossed my fingers on my lap, hoping he’d take me to my destination.
He shook his head. “I was in college wrestling, and I am a black belt. I don’t do scared, but I’d rather not put myself in situations I can avoid,” he said, scanning the vicinity around us.
We arrived at Tasty Tacos. I stepped out of the car and followed Kent into the restaurant. I doubted this was a good idea, but I had no other choice. I had to get to Pete’s before he sold everything that mattered.
The waitress led us to a table in the corner. I scooted into the red booth, feeling the coldness of the leather hit the back of my legs. When she dropped the menu in front of us, I ordered right away. “Can I have one steak taco and a Coke? Thanks.” I closed my menu and handed it to the waitress.
“I thought you were hungry,” Kent said, his face perplexed.
“I meant a steak taco meal. Can I have the meal please?” I said, turning back to the waitress.
Food was the last thing on my mind, but I had to make this believable. My heart beat loudly in my chest as I stared at my destination through the restaurant’s floor to ceiling windows behind Kent.
“So, Bowlesville. You grew up here,” Kent stated, breaking through my thoughts and forcing me to make eye contact.
I crossed my arms in front of me and leaned into the table. “Yeah. So?” I wasn’t in the mood for a snarky comment about my hometown, especially when I had a mission to accomplish.
His eyes widened in amusement. “Easy there, I was just asking. You must be one of those people who gets cranky when she doesn’t eat.”
I softened my face. “Yeah, I grew up here. Actually, my house is ten minutes away.”
“It’s amazing that you turned out okay,” he said, observing our surroundings.
My annoyed face was back. “Just so you know, not all of us were brought up with a silver spoon in our mouths. Bowlesville is fine. It’s not so much where I came from. It’s the drive that gets people to where they’re at,” I said, tapping my foot against the floor. My eyes flickered back to my destination behind Kent.
He laughed. “Okay, okay,” he said, raising both hands in surrender.
When the waitress dropped our food on the table, my stomach grumbled at the scent of grease and spices, but I was in no mood to eat.
Kent took a bite of his burrito and paused to praise me. “You’re right. This is good stuff. You and I have a knack for picking great places to eat,” he said before taking another bite.
“I told you.” I ate a chunk of the greasy taco in front of me.
Nowhere near hungry, it took everything I had to force the food down and keep my knees from shaking. There was a disconnect between my stomach and my brain. My stomach wanted to enjoy the meal from one of my favorite places in my hometown, but my brain had me thinking of my purpose, which made me queasy.
My mission had me standing right before the check came. “Excuse me for a second. I have to go to the restroom.”
I rose to my feet, left the table, and jolted toward the door. I squinted through the glass window of the restaurant, and my eyes zoned in on the pink neon lights flashing brightly in front of me. My brisk walk turned into a full-on sprint to Pete’s Pawn across the street. When I entered the shop, Pete stood at attention from behind the bulletproof glass.
“Pete, I’m so sorry,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “I had so much going on. I’m in the process of moving.” I reached in my purse and handed him the pawn slip and payment. “Here, this should take care of it until next month.” I released a silent sigh of relief as soon as the money left my hands, knowing my payment was up to date.
“I feel for you. I do. You know how many sob stories come in here, month after month, with excuses on why they can’t pay for their stuff? I’m sorry, Beth, but if I cut slack for one, I’ll have to do it for all.” He took my money through the window and placed it in the register. “Beth, you can pick up what you can afford. If you just want the jewelry, you can pay for that, and I’ll just sell the rest of it. It’s just junk—old movies, electronics, and—”
“No, I want it all,” I said, stopping him mid-sentence. I felt a tightness in my chest at the thought of losing all of Nana’s belongings.
It was all I had left of Nana, and I’d promised myself that I would buy it all back, every last piece. It was everything she’d used, everything she’d touched, everything she’d worn. I would buy it all back even if I had to get another job to do it.
“When your mom pawned all this stuff, I told her she could pick up the pieces one at a time. Just because I gave her a loan on all of the items doesn’t mean it has to be paid off all at once. I lent her money on each individual item.”
“She’s not my mom,” I said, cringing at the term.
I didn’t want to see sympathy in his eyes, but it was there.
“I’m just saying, Beth. If you want the jewelry, you can just pay for that in full and take that home, so you don’t have to pay interest on everything every month. If you don’t need the rest, which is just junk, I can sell it.”
I twisted as I heard the door open.
“Nice place you’ve got here.”
My stomach dropped, and I could feel the blood draining from my face. If I could have shriveled up and died, I would have.
Damn it.
It was Kent.
“Hey, welcome to Pete’s. Whatever you’re looking for, we have it.” Pete exited from behind the bulletproof glass and strolled to the front of the store.
I watched as he eyed Kent. Kent’s aura, from his clothes to his demeanor, reeked of wealth.
“What are you doing here?” I said under my breath, tugging on Kent’s sleeve. I clenched my jaw as he walked further into the shop.
“I’m in the market for a new watch,” he said, peering at Pete’s display cases of pawned watches.
The glint from his gold Rolex flashed in my eyes, and annoyance started to rise within me. “Yeah, right.” I didn’t even wait for a reaction.
I pivoted and stormed out the door. I heard the door fly open and felt his presence right behind me.
“I saw you running across the street and into a pawn shop of all places.” He laughed. “It’s always the so-called good girls,” he said, amusement in his tone. “So, what’s your habit? Do tell. Is it gambling, drugs, or drinking a little too much perhaps? Hey, slow down, will you?”
I heard his footsteps hit the gravel, briskly trailing behind me to meet my pace.
“So, what’s the truth? What habit does Beth need to support that forced her to pawn all her stuff?”
I wheeled around so quickly that he knocked into me and shoved his chest with both hands. “You want to know the truth?” I yelled. “The truth is that the stuff in there belonged to my Nana,” I said, pointing to the pawnshop behind me. “That’s all I have left from my dead grandmother and I pay every month on that stuff because I can’t bear to lose it. I’ve never done drugs, I’m not a drunk, and I’ve been to a casino once. So, no, I wasn’t the one who pawned that stuff. I didn’t pawn any of it. I’m just trying to save it.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know why I’m eve
n telling you this. I don’t owe you anything. My business is my business, and you need to stay out of it. Do you understand?” I glared at him and did not relent.
A look of shock crept up his face, followed by sympathy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
I held up my hands to stop him from speaking further.
He wore the exact same face that had met me day in and day out in Bowlesville. It was so familiar. It was the face of every person in my small town who had known my mother was a drunk and hung out every night at the local bar. It had been written on Pete’s face earlier. It was that look of pity for the girl who had endured a messed-up childhood. It was the same look that I’d been trying to leave behind when I moved to Chicago. And now, my problems were following me straight into my new city, my new life, and it just pissed me off.
I straightened out my skirt and stomped toward the car.
“Beth, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” I crossed my arms in front of me as I stopped in front of his car. “I want to go back to Chicago,” I commanded.
An awkward silence filled the air, but I embraced it. It was either that or answer questions I didn’t want to answer.
Twenty minutes into the ride, he asked if I’d like to turn on the radio.
I shrugged and looked out to the wide-open fields of land to my right. As the quiet grew, I felt him stealing glances in my direction, but I continued to stare out the window. I wasn’t in the mood to converse. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and pretend today didn’t happen.
After thirty more minutes, he spoke. “I don’t like to fail, and I wouldn’t know the first thing about running a company,” he said quietly.
His words had me turning slowly in his direction. It was the first time I looked at him since we’d gotten into the car. He stared straight out at the open road ahead of him. I should have left it at that, but it was the only thing that came out of his mouth that had broken his confident, arrogant facade. I should have kept my mouth shut, but curiosity won out.
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked softly.
He shrugged. “Honestly?” he asked, meeting my eyes. “It’s only fair, one for one. Also, I have selfish reasons. Looks are deceiving, and I want to know the whole story about why a sweet-looking girl was at a pawn shop today.”
“How do you know you’re going to fail when you haven’t even tried?” I asked.
He shook his head as a melancholy smile crept up his face. “That’s not how it works. I asked you first.”
I didn’t want to continue, but he was curious about me, like I was about him. I wanted to know more. With his jaw-dropping good looks and all the money in the world, he strutted around as if he were king of the universe. In reality, he was a total walking contradiction. Inside, he was rattled with insecurity, and it shocked me.
I let out a long sigh and rubbed the back of my neck. “Jamie, my mother, pawned all my grandmother’s stuff, and I want to get them back.”
“Why would your mother pawn your grandmother’s things?”
I laughed at his perplexed look.
“She’s a deadbeat, Kent.”
He still looked confused.
“She left me when I was six, and I stayed with my grandmother ever since. I’d rather not talk about it, but if you must know, my mother is the one with the habit. Drinking, gambling, and putting herself into debt is more of her thing.” I looked out the window, so I wouldn’t see the familiar look in his eyes. “Once Nana passed away, my mother pawned Nana’s stuff for her habits,” I said, my voice lowering. The heartbroken ache in the middle of my chest was back at the thought of Nana.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his words laced with sympathy.
“Stop right there. I don’t want your pity. She’s dead. I loved Nana. I want her stuff back. That’s it.” My heart constricted, and I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I wasn’t going to cry, especially not in front of someone I barely knew. But as hard as I tried, I couldn’t hide the hurt on my face.
After a while, he broke the silence. “Besides running the company, I’m slightly afraid of clowns.” He made a face, trying to break my mood.
I tucked a escaping strand of hair behind my ear and shot him a bemused look. “So, you don’t want a clown for your birthday?”
“My mother once got me a clown to surprise me for my birthday. I’ll never forget that day. As soon as I saw him, I punched him in the face and ran.” He let out a low laugh as a dimple emerged on his cheek.
“I guess the surprise was on him,” I said.
The rest of the ride back to Chicago was relaxing. It was as if a layer of Kent’s facade had peeled off, and the more he talked, the more I became at ease.
“So, I’ve been kind of wondering about something. You’re not gay, are you?” I asked.
His laughter was contagious. Instead of feeling stupid for asking such a question, I laughed along with him.
“No, I like women, and only women.”
I briefly thought of his earlier comment about me not being his type.
As if he’d read my mind, he said, “I only date women who do not want a relationship, so it’s mutual. I don’t like complications, and I don’t like to play games. My type would be the type who doesn’t expect more.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not offended that I’m not your type. Trust me when I say, you’re not my type either. I’d rather have a boyfriend who works for a living, who is not so spoiled, who is good-looking but not so into his looks, and who is a nice guy overall.”
He let out a carefree laugh. “You’d think I would be offended at what you just said, insinuating that I’m not those things. I’m not though because you are being honest. So, who is the lucky guy?”
“No lucky guy. I had a boyfriend in high school, but we broke up.”
“What happened?”
“You know, same old story. Fell in love with my high school boyfriend, lost my V-card at prom, and broke up before we went off to college.” I laughed, thinking of the memory. “Basically, I grew up, and he didn’t. He wanted to stay in Bowlesville, and I had other plans. He thought my life revolved around him, but my life began when One Financial called to offer me the position.”
“You lost your virginity at prom?” he asked.
“I figured you would pick that after all I said. Yeah, in the back of his pickup truck. How romantic.” I sighed, fluttering my eyelashes.
He laughed and continued to tell me about his first time and how he’d had no idea what he was doing. By the end of his story, we were both in tears. Our conversation flowed so effortlessly that when I glanced up, we were on the outskirts of the city as the sun was setting in front of us.
“That’s the most I’ve laughed in a while.” He pulled up in front of my apartment and shifted the gear to park. “I have this great idea,” he said, searching my face as I reached for the door handle. “I think we should be friends.”
My eyes were cautious. “Okay…” I said, sounding unsure.
He continued, “We know quite a few things about each other, so it only makes sense.”
“Friends?” I tested out the word mentally. What does it take to be friends with a multimillionaire who is conceited yet insecure, rude yet honest, and last but not least, an admitted man-whore?
“Just friends, and nothing more,” he said, waiting for my reply.
“I guess I don’t have any new friends in Chicago, so okay.” I shrugged, pretending to concede.
He shook his head in amusement. “Have a good evening, Beth.”
“You, too,” I said, stepping out of the car.
As he drove off, I wondered what a friendship with Kent entailed.
The weekend flew by and before I knew it, I was back to work on Monday. I glanced at the time on my computer, and it was already eleven thirty. On cue, my stomach grumbled. My phone rang, outdoing my loud stomach.
“Hello? One Financial. This is Beth.”
“Beth, I’m calling
in my friendship card. It’s Kent. I’m bored. I’m downtown by your office, and I need someone to go shopping with me.”
I was surprised he’d called so soon. It must be nice to be wealthy. Without a full-time job, he was able to go shopping in the middle of the weekday.
“You can’t pick out your own clothes? Don’t rich people have personal shoppers or something?” I asked teasingly.
“Come on, I want someone to come with me. Let’s go. Meet me at Barney’s in ten minutes.”
“Fine, but you’re buying me lunch.”
“Just hurry up,” he said before dropping the call.
I grabbed my wallet, logged off my computer, and headed out the door.
Lifting my head, I felt the sun’s warmth on my skin as I took my time strolling down the street. The streets were full of working professionals, all in suits, hustling to lunch or heading back to work. One Financial was surrounded by well-known restaurants, high-end shopping, and the theater district.
I was used to the quiet of my home town but now, walking down the street on my lunch hour, I realized I didn’t miss home, I only missed Kendy. I embraced the noise and hustle of Chicago because it meant that my old life was behind me.
Strolling into Barney’s, I immediately spotted Kent with his Ray-Ban sunglasses sitting on top of his head. I laughed quietly as I witnessed the pretty brunette salesclerk pulling down her shirt and pushing up her bra to reveal more cleavage. Kent was oblivious as he searched through the pile of polo shirts. As I walked toward him, I saw two other women scoping out the handsome man in front of them with his tight crisp polo accenting his broad shoulders before slimming inwardly toward his pelvis. They were laughing and whispering to each other, like little schoolgirls. I observed as they secretly gawked at him.
“Hey.” I sauntered toward him and touched the polos in front of him.
“Pink or red?” He held up two shirts, wanting my opinion.
“Uh, neither. One, only certain guys can pull off pink, and you can’t. Two, I don’t like red unless it’s Christmas.”