The Billionaire Bull

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The Billionaire Bull Page 43

by Romi Hart


  Dylan seemed to be the only guy on my side as he teased Carl, “Aren’t you from some small hick town in Georgia where everyone is a loser?”

  “Atlanta? Atlanta is just some small hick town to you, Dyl-Doe?” Carl asked, narrowing his brown eyes at Dylan.

  We all looked at each other and laughed. Then Dylan had to add, “Yup. Basically! If you’re from there.”

  Ox said with a snicker, “Carl, there is a reason why your nickname is Go Home, remember?”

  Carl replied, “Ya, ya, ya. ATL is too bad ass for all you Cali kids anyway.”

  Dylan piped in, “Hey! I’m from Oregon.”

  Carl was quick to say, "Also known as wannabe NorCal. Portland wants to be Berkeley so bad."

  Dylan thought for a moment before saying, “True. Can’t deny that.”

  As we walked back to our Sports Business Club table, Ox asked me, “What are you gonna do, Gun? Drop her, right? Why bother?”

  I looked at my old Samoan friend with a serious look. “Nope, that’s where you guys come in.” The guys huddled around me. “Brick House has his eye on her. He’s running interference and needs to be shut down.”

  Hammer crossed his arms looking ready to jump into a brawl right at that moment. I held my hand up. “No. Not like that.” Hammer relaxed his stance a little, but I knew he had my back no matter what my plan was. I knew all my guys had my back. We were a solid team.

  “We’ve gotta obliterate my bad boy rep. I know Brick House has given her an earful about me, but I don’t know who else is feeding her garbage. So I need you guys to spread the word about what a gentleman I am and how I am definitely under no circumstances a player of any kind.”

  Carl frowned at me as if what I was asking was impossible. “That is going to take a serious rewrite of history.”

  Dylan shook his head as he remarked, “We need one of those memory eraser sticks like they used in ‘Men in Black.’”

  Even Hatchet was doubtful. “There is a lot out there about you, Jett. Is this even going to be possible?”

  With so much doubt how could I forge ahead like it wouldn’t be a problem at all? “Maybe not, but I need you guys to try.”

  They all nodded in agreement as Hatchet answered for them all, “Okay. Sure. We’ll give it a shot.”

  With my guys on board, I continued, “I plan on taking Laney out, but Brick House seems to be lurking around every corner. I don’t know how he does it, but you guys need to get in his way when I take her out. I can’t have another confrontation with him like the one we had today in front of her.”

  “Alright. Whatever you need, you got it,” Ox assured me.

  “I hope this girl is worth it, Gun,” Hammer said, throwing the football up and catching it.

  “She is,” I replied earnestly.

  I left the guys in the Haas courtyard to run some errands. I needed to show Laney how genuine my intentions were. I headed to Ashby Flowers on Telegraph Avenue. It was the flower shop I always used when sending my mom flowers. The owner, Maggie, a sweet old lady, made flower arrangements my mom gushed over. I had little knowledge of what made a beautiful bouquet, but Maggie transformed my sentiments into a gorgeous visual display of blossoms every time.

  I parked my car in the Whole Foods parking lot. Before getting the flowers, I ran into Whole Foods and grabbed a large box of Lake Champlain Chocolates, a gourmet assortment of Vermont chocolates: milk, white, and dark chocolate truffles and specialty creams like orange, raspberry, and cherry. Lake Champlain Chocolates were delicious. I’d bought a gift box just for myself and devoured the entire box after the Stanford game last year.

  Victories over ‘Stanfurd’ called for special celebrations, in my book. I was tempted to buy two boxes but told myself it wasn’t the time for me to be a lush. Besides, Laney hadn’t agreed to go out with me just yet. It wasn’t celebration time until then.

  I moved my car across the parking lot to the corner where Ashby Flowers was. The tiny building with a bright green awning sat on the corner of Ashby and Telegraph, sharing parking lot space with Whole Foods. The small no frills windowed flower shop may not have looked glamorous on the outside, but Maggie was a floral magician. She was key to getting Laney to go out with me.

  I walked into the shop. The bell on the front door jingled. Maggie popped up from behind the counter. Her bright white hair was swept up into a loose bun. She was probably only five feet tall and had to tilt her head up to look at me. “ Hello, Jett! You getting some flowers for your Mama?”

  With a shake of my head, I leaned on the counter. “Not today, Maggie. I’m here to get flowers for a girl this time.”

  She ran out from behind the counter to give me a hug. I stooped so her arms could reach up to me. “It’s about time. She must be a special girl, Jett.”

  With a nod, I let her know she’d hit the nail on the head, “She is, Maggie.”

  Her red lips pulled into a smile. “That’s wonderful!”

  I smiled right back at her and gave her a wink. “But she isn’t mine... yet. I’m going to need your help.”

  “A girl who’s a challenge!” She extended her index finger and shook it at me. “Always go for the challenging girls. This girl must know her worth! What did you have in mind?”

  As she made her way back behind the counter, I looked around at all the flowers. “I want to show her that I have genuine feelings for her. That I think she’s special. Maggie, she’s beautiful and so smart. I’ve never met anyone like her. But I don’t want to come on too strong, you know?”

  Maggie rubbed her chin with her tiny hand, in thought. Then she sprang into action. “I’ve got just the thing for you. You trust me?”

  “Always,” I replied. It was best to let Maggie perform her magic without any specific input by me.

  I watched her scurry around the shop grabbing different flowers. Her little feet in slippers padded around the linoleum floor. She held up bright pink and lavender roses. “You want to give her roses, but not red roses. Red roses are for after you get the girl,” she said with a wink.

  Shoving my hands in my pockets, I leaned back on the wall and watched her work. “That’s a good thing to know.”

  She lifted one of the pink tulips up to show me. “Tulips symbolize love but not in a showy way. See how the tulip’s petals curl into itself.” She pointed to the tulip’s rounded shape. “The petals contain the love right in the center, privately.”

  I gazed at the bouquet she was quickly creating. “Is that so?”

  Next, she arranged green and pink hydrangeas into the mix. “Hydrangeas symbolize heartfelt emotions. This will tell her your feelings are straight from your heart."

  From my heart? Am I really putting myself out there like that?

  Lastly, she added green blossoms I’d never seen before. “These are cymbidium orchids. Orchids mean love, beauty, and strength. In ancient Greece, orchids were associated with virility.” She put her small hand to her mouth and giggled.

  I laughed too. Maggie, a woman in her eighties, most likely thought mentioning virility to a young man was risqué.

  When she was done, a leaf-lined cylinder vase overflowed with gorgeous colorful blossoms. It was stunning. Maggie was a flower magician. I picked up on Laney's interest in plants and flowers. I hoped the unique arrangement would impress her.

  In the card, I wrote,

  Laney,

  I’m sorry. Please take these flowers and chocolates as my apology. I hate that you think the worst of me. I’d like to take you to dinner at Chez Panisse. Please accept my invitation and my apology. I’ve never met anyone like you. I’d like to get to know you better. Please don’t hold my past against me. Please think about giving me the chance to prove myself to you. That’s all I’m asking for is one chance to show you I might’ve been a certain way before I met you, but now that I have, I’ve changed.

  I hope you will call.

  Jett

  510-682-6962

  I looked up Laney’s address on the Haas
directory: Clark Kerr Campus and jotted the address down for Maggie.

  Giving her my best charming smile, I asked one more thing of the nice woman, “Maggie, can you deliver some chocolates I bought her too?”

  She grinned. “Of course! Of course!”

  “Let me run out to my car and grab them real quick.” I hurried out and came back with the box of candy, placing it on the countertop.

  She looked down at the box. “Vermont Chocolate! I love Lake Champlain Chocolates! This girl must really be special!”

  “She really is, Maggie. You’d like her.” I left the shop feeling fantastic about the flowers and candy.

  With an idea in mind, I ran back into Whole Foods and picked up another box of Lake Champlain Chocolates.

  From the glass door of Ashby Flowers, I didn’t see Maggie behind the counter as I opened the door gently and held the bell in my fist to stop it from jingling.

  Tiptoeing, I put the chocolates on the counter and picked up a pen and piece of paper that were nearby. A quick note told her I was thankful for her help and the candy was for her for being such a nice person. Then I hurried out before Maggie returned.

  In the car, I drove with the windows down, feeling good about my campaign for Laney’s affection. Maggie’s flower magic had to work. Laney had to call me. I couldn’t get her out of my head.

  Laney

  After class, I was in no hurry to get back to Clark Kerr. I felt like I’d been rushing around all day especially after I ran away from Jett and Troy acting like Neanderthals in front of all those people. It was humiliating!

  I stopped by the International House’s café to grab some much-needed caffeine. My hangover had faded a bit, but I needed an energy boost. I sat down with my frothy cinnamon latte and took out my book, “Competitive Strategy: Techniques for Analyzing Industries and Competitors.” I opened the book to the chapter on market signals, but I couldn’t concentrate.

  The café hummed a harmonious mix of so many languages, it took my attention. I put the book away and just looked around me, taking it all in. I was surrounded by so many people from different faraway places who were all here in Berkeley for the same thing, to study. And I was one of them.

  Of course, Florida wasn’t that far away, but still, I was in California on my own at this spectacular school. I sipped my latte savoring the woody savory aroma from the cinnamon. I loved it here.

  On the walk home, I checked the time. My mom would be home now probably eating dinner while grading her students’ work or going over her research. We spent many dinners together, mother and daughter, eating while diligently reading or grading.

  A couple of KA guys were out in front of their house sitting on a ratty couch drinking beers, people watching and yelling at girls as they walked by. I crossed the street. I was not in the mood.

  Seriously, did catcalling ever work on any girl ever in the history of time? I doubted it.

  A few minutes later, I watched in disbelief as a pretty girl with a green backpack actually stopped to talk to one of the KA guys after he complimented her ass. I guess that did work with girls.

  Some girls.

  I hovered my thumb over my mom’s number. I wanted to call her so badly, but I stopped myself. I knew talking with her after such a crazy day: being hungover for the first time, the fight between Jett and Troy, I’d cry as soon as I got on the phone with her.

  When I got back to my dorm room, I found a gorgeous bouquet of flowers on my desk. Marsha was hunched over her desk buried in her textbook.

  “These are beautiful,” I said leaning down and smelled them. I loved the smell of fresh flowers. The arrangement was made up of hot pink and lavender roses, soft pink tulips, vibrant green and pink hydrangeas, and delicate green cymbidium orchids that were a creamy green avocado color.

  Marsha smiled watching me smell the flowers. “They are beautiful, Laney. Who sent them?” she asked rushing to my side as I picked up the card.

  I excitedly opened the envelope. “It must be from my mom. She knows how much I love flowers. I mean, look at them! They’re gorgeous: Tulipa gesneriana, Cymbidium chloranthum…” I stopped reciting the scientific names of the flowers when I opened the card. These beautiful flowers were not from my mom.

  Marsha peered over my shoulder reading the card with me. “Jett is laying it on pretty thick, don’t you think.”

  I closed the card in shock. Jett? I couldn’t believe it.

  Marsha sucked her teeth in disapproval. “You are just a game to him, Laney. You know that, right?”

  I picked up the box of candy: Lake Champlain Vermont chocolates. I opened the box. Daintily crafted chocolates waited inside for me. They looked too cute to eat: chocolates shaped in flowers, maple leaves, and perfectly rounded mounds.

  Marsha hovered a hand over a white globe with brown chocolate stripes. “Can I have one?”

  I pushed the box toward her. “Of course.”

  She snatched up the white chocolate and popped it into her mouth. As she chewed, she said, “If you’re looking for a guy, go for Troy. He is, by far, a much better choice than Jett.”

  I picked up the flower shaped chocolate and took a tiny bite. I wanted to savor these treats. A tartly sweet orange cream burst into my mouth. It was decadent. As I rolled the orange chocolate mix around with my tongue, I thought about Jett and Troy.

  What am I going to do?

  When the tanginess melted, I said, “I’m not sure what to do or who to pick or if I should pick anyone. I have to think it over.”

  Marsha grabbed a dark chocolate shaped maple leaf from the box. “Last one, I swear,” she said before retreating back to her desk. “Okay, think it over, but you know what my vote is.”

  I took a hot shower and pulled on my striped pink and white cotton pajamas. My PJs were well worn and soft from years and years of washes. Taking a couple of Ibuprofens, I burrowed in my bed with my laptop. Then browsed through Netflix before choosing the newest adaptation of “Anne of Green Gables.”

  With my headphones on, I intently watched the first episode and barely heard the knock on our door. Marsha called my name to get my attention. From my bed, I looked up and saw Troy standing in our doorway.

  Pulling off my headphones quickly, I was utterly confused.

  Why’s he here?

  Troy looked past Marsha at me and as his words came out anxiously, “Laney, will you please come outside and talk to me?” My bed was so comfy and warm. I wanted to stay there. Troy took a step inside our room and added, “Please. It will only be a minute.”

  I couldn’t come up with an excuse with him staring right at me, so I resigned myself to the fact I had to hear the guy out. “Okay. I’ll be right out.”

  Troy awkwardly back-stepped out into the hallway as I gestured to Marsha to shut the door. She reluctantly closed the door with a disapproving look, her hands on her hips. “You’re going out there, right?”

  I climbed out of bed and pulled on my robe while stuffing my feet into my fuzzy purple slippers. “Yes. I’m going. I don’t really want to, but I’m going.”

  Marsha put a firm hand on the door stopping me from opening it. Her voice was low as she said, “Give him a chance, Laney.”

  “Okay. I will,” I said exasperated, pulling the door open.

  Marsha must be the president of Troy’s fan club.

  Out in the hallway, Troy paced with his hands in tight fists. When he saw me, he hurried to me and said, “Laney, I’m so sorry for how I acted earlier. It’s just that…”

  He looked up to the ceiling searching for words. “Jett is exactly what I said he was. He’s never been with the same girl more than a few times. He leaves every single one in tears.” He talked quickly while his eyes darted all over the place. He seemed nervous.

  Crossing my arms in front of me, I was growing weary of everyone telling me how bad a guy Jett was. “I’m not some dimwitted twit you know.”

  He must have realized how erratically he was talking and leaned back on the wal
l trying to look relaxed. Then clasped his hands together and said quietly, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. He’s full of promises he never keeps.”

  “Thank you for being concerned for me, but Jett sent me flowers and chocolates as an apology. It was really sweet. He even asked me out on a real date.” I looked down at my hands feeling bashful all of a sudden. “Has he ever done that with anyone else that you know of?”

  His posture snapped rigidly upright as he bounced off the wall immediately. His hands curled into fists again. He fired off quickly, “I have no idea if he has. I doubt it. He will stoop to anything to get what he wants though. I can tell you that much.”

  I stepped back away from him, feeling drained just from the conversation. I wanted to get back in my bed. “Thank you for your apology,” I said placing my hand on the doorknob to my room.

  Troy stepped closer to me. “Will you go out with me tomorrow night?”

  I tapped my thumb on the doorknob wanting to turn it and go back inside. I turned to Troy. “Thank you, Troy, but no thank you.”

  Troy took another step closer. His brown eyes pleaded. “I won’t stop asking until you say yes. All I ask is that you give me a shot.” He looked as if he was holding his breath waiting for me to answer.

  I heard Marsha through the door singing along to Taylor Swift. She seemed to think I should give Troy a chance. I thought about my bed again. My plump pillows. My soft comforter. If I said yes, Troy would let me go back to my bed.

  I let go of the doorknob and turned to Troy. “Okay.”

  His face lit up, and he raised his arms up over his head. “Yes!” He started talking rapidly again. “Oh, Laney. You will not regret this! We’re going to have a fantastic time!” He laughed happily while lifting me up off my feet, spinning me around. “Thank you! Thank you!”

  I was surprised by his gesture and laughed too despite my fuzzy slippers flinging off my feet. He placed me back down gently. Noticing my bare feet, he collected my slippers from where they’d landed and placed them right at my feet in front of me. Troy offered his hand. I took it feeling silly as I pushed my feet back into my slippers as he grinned at me.

 

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