Beauty and the Billionaire

by Claire Adams

  “Getting kind of a late start if you’re heading out of town, aren’t you?” I ask.

  “Ha!” Jana exclaims.

  Ash locks the door to their apartment and we walk down the hall and out the side door of the building.

  “Well, I guess this is it,” I tell them.

  “I swear, if you give another big, long goodbye, you’re going to have another bruise on your face,” Jana says.

  “And I guess that should about do it,” I say. “See ya.”

  “Hold on,” Ash says. “I think the corner’s coming loose on that bandage. Hold still.”

  “Will you hurry up?” Jana complains. “By the time we get there, we’re only going to have like an hour.”

  “This will just take a second,” Ash says.

  “So, is Ash short for something or are your parents Evil Dead fans?” I ask.

  “My full name’s Ashley,” she says, patting down one corner of the bandage on my forehead.

  “Good to know,” I say. It’s kind of awkward having this near-stranger attend to me like this, but not awkward enough to complain.

  “Well,” Ash says, “that should about do it. You have yourself a good night, Mason. Try not to get into any fights on the way home.”

  “If only I could promise that,” I smile.

  “I’m going to the car,” Jana says as she turns and starts walking away. “If you’re not there by the time I get it put in gear, I’m coming around the block to run over both of you.”

  “She doesn’t like you very much, does she?” Ash asks.

  “I think it’s because you’ve spent all this time flirting with me,” I tell her.

  “Oh, I’ve been flirting with you?” she asks.

  “Pretty brazenly,” I answer. “I was going to say something, but I was just so shocked by how incredibly attractive you find me.”

  “You’re actually going to walk away thinking that, aren’t you?” she asks.

  “What if I am?” I ask.

  She shakes her head, putting her hands in her pockets. “Then you probably should go to the hospital, because I think you must have gotten kicked in the head a few too many times,” she says. She pulls her hands out of her pockets as I’m starting to turn to walk away and she says, “Hey, just one more thing.”

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “I was rude to you before,” she says. “You offered me your hand and I didn’t shake it.”

  “Oh,” I say, furrowing my brow a little. I extend my hand once more and this time she takes it, only there’s something in her hand and she’s closing my fingers around it as she’s pulling her hand away.

  “Have a good night,” she says. “Be safe out there.”

  “Yeah,” I answer. “You, too.”

  She jogs away toward wherever Jana has the car, and I’m headed back toward home, my hand still closed around the folded paper in my hand.

  I wait until I’m back between the buildings on the other side of the road before I start unfolding it. By the time I’ve got it open, it’s too dark for me to see what’s written on it, but it doesn’t take long before I’m back within range of the streetlights.

  It’s Ash’s phone number.

  I’m not quite sure how I managed that, but I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth.

  Tonight turned out to be a pretty good night.

  Chapter Two

  Surprises

  Ash

  “Just give me a minute,” Jana says. “I promise, you’re going to be so excited when I tell you.”

  “Then why not just tell me now?” I ask as she continues to push me backward toward the couch.

  “I have to make a quick call first,” she oozes. “It’ll just take a minute.”

  With that, my calves hit the front of the couch and I fall back into a somewhat awkward sitting position.

  “Stay right there,” she says.

  “I was going to run to the store for a few things,” I tell her. “Can it wait until I get back?”

  “No,” she says. “Just stay there. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

  She leaves the room.

  There’s a reason I’m putting up such a fight. When it comes to surprises, Jana’s got a perfectly awful record. The things that would actually make for great surprises, she just blurts out. When she says I’m going to be “so excited” about anything, I start getting a little nervous.

  We’re really different, Jana and I. Sometimes I wonder if we’d be friends if we didn’t go to elementary school together.

  She’s a good person and everything; she’s just kind of erratic. When she told me she was looking at moving into a two-bedroom apartment, asking me if I wanted to be her roommate, I was a little hesitant.

  It wasn’t until I’d made her swear a blood oath over a schedule of chores that I felt comfortable moving in with her.

  Jana comes back into the room, saying, “Well, I guess I probably could have just told you. My mom’s coming to visit.”

  “Oh,” I say, really trying to project some kind of enthusiasm. “For how long?”

  “That’s the thing,” Jana says. “I wanted to talk to you about this first, but time was kind of a thing, so…” she trails off.

  “Jana, how long is your mother staying?” I ask again sternly.

  “It’s not like it’s really that long when you think about it,” she says as if she’s already answered my question. “I mean, she is my mom and everything. You said you’d be cool with it if she came to visit every once in a while.”

  “Jana,” I say, “how long?”

  “A few months,” she answers, “and I know that sounds like a lot, but when you really think about it, I mean, I was living with her for like eighteen years. Besides, my mom’s awesome. Everybody loves her.”

  The best policy is to not respond to statements like that.

  “You’re not mad, are you?” she asks, wincing.

  “When does she get here?” I ask.

  “That’s what I was calling about,” Jana says. “She said she’ll be here in like half an hour.”

  “Half an hour?!” I blurt. “You couldn’t give me a little more notice than half an hour?”

  “Whatevs,” Jana says. “Just chill, okay? Will you?”

  She’s doing her “don’t be a turd in the punch bowl” routine, but I don’t want to hear it.

  “When we decided to be roommates,” I start, “we agreed that if your mother was going to stay with us, you’d give me time to make other plans.”

  “What’s your thing with my mom, anyway?” Jana asks. “She’s never been anything but nice to you.”

  “I never said she wasn’t,” I answer. “You just,” I stammer, “I mean, we’re supposed to communicate about this stuff, you know? Now I have half an hour before your mom gets here? Not cool, Jana.”

  “I promise, if you’ll just spend a little time with her while she’s here, you two are going to finally get past whatever problem you have with each other and everything’s gonna be totally—” Jana stops.

  My phone’s ringing.

  “Hold on,” I tell her, “I’ve got to take this.”

  I make a quick retreat to my room, and I don’t even bother checking to see who’s calling before I answer.

  “I’ll give you fifty bucks if you can get me out of here,” I tell whoever’s on the other end of the line.

  “Everything okay?” a man’s voice comes back.

  “Who is this?” I ask, pulling my phone back a bit to find I don’t recognize the number.

  “It’s Mason,” the man says.

  “Mason?” I ask. “Mason who?”

  “Is this Ash, short for Ashely, the chick who bandaged me up the other night?” the man asks and it finally clicks.

  “Oh, Mason,” I say.

  “Yeah,” he says. “You gave me your number, so I thought I’d call and see if you want to get together sometime.”

  “Now’s good,” I tell him.

  “Now?” he asks.
“I’m not ready just now. Can you give me a little bit?”

  “How long do you need?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” he says, “maybe half an hour or so?”

  Half an hour?

  “No,” I tell him. “It’s got to be sooner. I don’t have time to get into it right now, but I would really love an excuse that would get out of here right now.”

  “All right,” he says. “Let’s meet up at Sherry’s on Eighth. You might have to wait a little bit for me to get there, but at least you’ll be away from wherever you are.”

  “Sounds great,” I tell him. “See you soon.”

  I hang up.

  I’d given Mason my phone number to mess with Jana, telling her I was thinking about hooking up with her ex, but right now, I could just about kiss him.

  Coming out of my room, I don a disappointed look.

  “What’s the matter?” Jana asks.

  “I forgot,” I tell her. “Mason and I have plans right now.”

  “You’re hooking up with Mason?” Jana asks. “You’re joking.”

  “I don’t know if I’d call it hooking up, but we do have plans,” I tell her. “That was him on the phone. It totally slipped my mind, but we’re supposed to have dinner together. I should really get going.”

  “Well, give him a call back and tell him he’s gonna have to wait for a while,” Jana says. “You’ve got to at least say ‘hi’ to my mom and help us get her stuff up here.”

  “How much ‘stuff’ is she bringing?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” Jana says, “probably enough to make her comfortable for four or five months.”

  “Four or five months?” I blurt. “No way!”

  “Come on, Rumple Fugs,” she says, and I’m balling my fists.

  “You know that nickname undermines my confidence,” I seethe.

  Jana’s smirking as her phone starts to ring.

  “It’s probably Mason,” she says. “He’s probably calling to rub in the fact that you’re going out with him now.”

  That sends a pang of guilt through me. Jana’s exceptional at that when she wants to be.

  Jana answers the phone and walks off a little ways as I sink into the couch. On the one hand, this is a perfect opportunity for me to make my escape, but if that actually is Mason calling to shove our dinner plans in her face, I’d rather know about it so I can be sure to never see him again.

  “…all right, I’ll talk to you soon,” Jana says. “Bye.” She hangs up the phone and comes back over to me, asking, “What were we talking about?”

  “Was that him?” I ask.

  “No,” Jana says. “You’re really going to take off, aren’t you?”

  “Only if you’re okay with it,” I tell her. “I should have asked if you’d be okay with me seeing him. How long did the two of you date?”

  She turns her head and folds her arms. “It doesn’t matter,” she says. “My mom’s on her way and you want to ditch us for my ex before she’s even got here.”

  “Gotten,” I correct. It’s a waste of time: She never learns. Still, habits are habits. “If you don’t want me to go out with him, I won’t go out with him,” I tell her, “but please don’t make me live under a roof with your mother for months on end.”

  “Just go,” Jana says. “I’m sure mom and I can lug all her stuff to the apartment all by ourselves. She’s going to be so sad that you’re not here, though. She loves the crap out of you.”

  “She does not,” I respond. “The only times your mom and I have even had a full conversation, she was stoned out of her mind.”

  “Well, that’s not really telling me much,” Jana says. “Mom’s always stoned.”

  “You can see why that might be a problem,” I tell her.

  “Well, at least you got to know her a bit,” Jana says.

  “Yeah,” I scoff. “She told me about how she followed Jefferson Airplane on tour when they did that reunion in the eighties. Apparently, they never let her backstage, but she did end up making it with a roadie at some point.”

  Jana giggles and shakes her head. “Moms,” she says, smiling.

  “Listen,” I tell her, “if you don’t want me to see Mason, I won’t, but I’m not going to stick around to wait for your mother to ‘cleanse my aura’ with burning sage. That stuff gives me a headache.”

  Jana sighs. “It’s not like Mason and I were a big deal or anything,” she says. “It’s just a little weird. I mean, if you want to see him, go ahead. We’re cool, but come on. You’ve got to at least wait and say hi to my mom. She’s going to be here whenever you get back anyway, so it’s not like you’re really getting away with anything. Just stay until she gets here, okay?”

  “Well…” I start, but Jana’s phone starts ringing again.

  “Just a sec,” Jana says and answers the call. “Hey, did you find it? Great. Just stay on Fairfax until you get to Twelfth Street and then take a left. We’re in the Green Village Apartments. We’ll be outside. Okay, bye.” Jana hangs up the phone and turns back to me. “That was mom. She’s about ten minutes out.”

  Suddenly, I don’t feel so guilty anymore.

  “Yeah, I’m out,” I tell Jana and start for the door, “See ya later.”

  It’s delaying the inevitable. I know that. Still, given what the inevitable is, I’m pretty happy putting it off for a while.

  “You know he sleeps around, right?” Jana asks and I stop.

  “What?” I ask. “Did he cheat on you?”

  “No,” Jana says. “Well, we weren’t really a couple. We were kind of sex acquaintances.”

  “Sex acquaintances?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” she says. “When we first met, we had sex. I gave him my number, he gave me his. Things were just so busy for me back then. We really only got together when one of us needed a booty call. Then I met someone else, and then he met someone else. If you want to go see him, I’m not going to be that friend, but I thought you should know.”

  “So what you’re saying is that the two of you started something, but you were busy a lot so you never made it out of the bedroom?” I ask. “That’s not really sex acquaintances as much as it is being unavailable for anything more.”

  “He did that with other people, too,” Jana says. “I mellowed out a ton, but from what Carli told me, he’s still quite a little man-whore.”

  I don’t ask if that means Mason and Carli are a thing. Carli’s the biggest gossip I’ve ever met and, more likely than not, she’s never actually met Mason. I’m not much for gossip or the people who do it, but Carli does have an outstanding track record for spreading rumors that end up being true. I’ll give her that much.

  Maybe I should call Mason back and cancel. I’m really not looking to go out with someone who’s just going to look at me like a piece of meat, even if it is just to get out of seeing Jana’s mom a couple extra hours.

  “Look,” Jana says, “mom’s going to be here in like three minutes. Why don’t you—where are you going?”

  I don’t answer.

  I know that Rhododendron—or whatever flower Jana’s mom has repurposed as her new moniker for the moment—is going to be here when I get home, but if I stay out a while, there’s always a chance that she’ll be taking a weed nap by the time I’m back.

  Maybe Mason’s a dirt bag, maybe he’s not. Either way, I’m getting out of here before Jana’s mom tries to pin me down and slather me with hemp oil. Again.

  * * *

  “Well, that’s a shame,” Mason says, sipping his soda in a weak attempt to hide his smile.

  “It’s not that I have a problem with hippies or anything,” I tell him. “I just subscribe to the idea of personal space.”

  “Yeah, that seems totally reasonable,” he says.

  “So, my roommate says you’re some kind of man-whore or something,” I say and take a bite of my salad.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Mason answers calmly.

  “What would you say?” I ask.

  “I
’d say that I’ve had my fair share of relationships that didn’t work out, but you know. I’m still optimistic. These things take time,” he says.

  “Well, I think I may have given you the wrong impression regarding my motives,” I tell him.

  “What?” he asks with a smirk. “We met, we hit it off. I’m incredibly attractive, although I do think it’s pretty weird you thought so, too, given my appearance at the time, but—”

  “Does that work?” I ask, sipping my coffee.

  “What’s that?” he asks.

  “The whole overconfident thing,” I tell him. “I was flirting with you before because I saw how much it bothered Jana when she saw you again, and sometimes that particular friend of mine just needs to be taken down a peg or two, but I’m not looking for some desperate slap and tickle with a juvenile walking phallus.”

  “You’re kind of mean, you know that?” he asks, but he’s still smiling.

  “You’re used to rejection, aren’t you?” I return.

  “Very,” he says. “If I’m not being rejected in a public and humiliating way at least once a day, I feel like I’m not trying hard enough.”

  “So it’s all about the sex for you then, huh?” I ask. I don’t know if he’s figured out that I’m not interested, but either way, toying with him is just too delicious.

  “Not really,” he says. “I mean, I do enjoy me some—what’d you call it?—slap and tickle, as much as anyone, but that’s not what it’s all about for me.”

  “Oh, and what’s it all about?” I ask. This should be entertaining.

  “I don’t know,” he says. “A lot of people are worried about who they’re going to get to spend the night with them. I always thought mornings were more romantic.”

  “Oh really?” I ask, not hiding my amusement.

  “Really,” he says. “I think it’s much more a statement when someone wakes up and wants to spend their day with you than when someone just wants to spend the night, you know?”

  “Wow,” I say. “So, did that punch to the face knock something loose or are you actually telling me you consider yourself a romantic?”

  “I don’t see why I can’t be a romantic just because I happen to spend a good portion of my free time training to beat the crap out of people,” he says. “We all have hobbies.”