I threw on a pair of torn jeans and a hoodie and tugged a baseball cap over my uncombed hair. Then dashed out the door. None of the residents paid any attention to who I was, and I never volunteered my identity. I was just Mason. Not Mason Alexander, People magazine’s most eligible billionaire bachelor two years running. I was just a guy who came to help.
This was a personal project. After I made my first billion, I had anonymously donated enough money to completely remodel the shelter and expand it. Now it had space for twice as many families and provided a full-time school teacher. Life doesn’t offer a whole lot of stability when you’re homeless, and I lost almost a year of school as we moved around. This was my way of trying to give back to the place that had provided a homeless, fatherless kid a modicum of stability in his screwed-up young life.
“Mason!” A tiny redheaded bundle of energy slammed into my knees, wrapped its arms around my legs, and held on tight. “You came back!”
Kneeling down I wrapped her in a big hug. “Hi, Molly. How are you, munchkin?”
“The teacher says I can pass out the snacks today!”
“How exciting! You behaving yourself?” I ruffled her hair and stood. The lunch line would be opening in just a few minutes.
“Maaas-on!” She rolled her eyes at me and put her hands on her hips. A twenty-five year old looked up at me through a five-year old’s eyes. “I’m gonna go tell Mom you’re here. It’s lunchtime!” And just like that, she scampered off, leaving me standing in the hallway.
Kinsey
“Oh shit! I'm going to be late!” Jumping out of bed, I hopped on one foot as I struggled to pull my pants on. I rushed into the bathroom for a ten second toothpaste swish and three swipes of my hairbrush.
After meeting Jason at the club and then coming home and crying late into the night, I had overslept. My big chemistry test started in twenty minutes. The semester was rapidly coming to a close, and I couldn't mess it all up now by being late. I refused to be the screw-up my dad thought I was. I was going finish my degree and get a job at one of his rival companies. If he wouldn't respect my brains, I would find someone who would.
Sliding my feet into my boots, I grabbed my keys and bag and rushed out of the house with my shirt still untucked. The apartment door slammed shut behind me as I ran down the sidewalk and stood looking for Adele before reality hit. Rubbing my eyes, I ran to the subway entrance and flew down the steps, barely slipping between the subway doors right before they closed. Whew! I made it! Being carless was the least of my problems, but it sure made my currently sucky life harder.
I flopped down in a heap into an empty seat and pulled out my notes to study one last time before the exam. My head felt groggy from crying the night before, and I’m sure I looked a mess. My eyes were red and swollen, and my hair was ratty and unwashed. I really felt like complete crap, and with the plastic seat hot underneath me and no air conditioning on subway car, I start sweating almost immediately. I ran my fingers through my hair to untangle the big knots and then twisted the blonde curls and pinned them up in a messy bun.
Five stops and six pages of notes later, I was through the doors the moment they slid open. I run through the station and back up to the street, coming out just a few blocks away from the Fairchild center. The 1-Local connected the Bronx to Manhattan and provided, thankfully, a convenient commute from my apartment to school.
The deep red face of the Fairchild Biology Building loomed ahead, its many windows staring down at me like accusing eyes as I rushed through the doors. Inside, I raced down the hall to class. I opened and shut the classroom door quietly and quickly slid into my seat as Dr. Brozinski passed out exams on the other side of the room. The test itself passed in a blur, the questions sliding through my mind as I answered them. I stayed later than I needed, my tired brain reviewing my answers over and over again until everyone else was finished. I didn't feel great about my performance, but I was pretty sure I pulled out at least a low B. With my high average in the class, I might just pull out an A-minus if I didn't blow the final too. I should've been studying instead of meeting Jason at the club last night. Hindsight is 20-20.
Dr. Brosinki called to me as I stood to leave. “Miss Hendrix, I wasn’t sure you were going to join us today. Is everything alright?” His crazy white hair stood out in a halo around his head, and his bushy eyebrows arched like wooly caterpillars over his piercing blue eyes.
“Just some family work stuff,” I said, walking back to his desk. “I'm sorry I was late.”
“You are one of my top students, Kinsey. The semester’s almost over. Whatever you are going through, don’t blow it now. Feel free to come by my office if you need anything. And that lab job I offered you last semester is still yours any time you want it. You're a good student, Kinsey. I'm sure your exam went just fine.”
“Thank you, Dr. Brozinski.” I handed him my exam and headed to the women's bathroom to clean up.
Setting my bag at the edge of the porcelain sink, I ran some warm water, splashed it on my face, and dried off with some paper towels. I dug to the bottom of my purse, pulled out deodorant and a toothbrush, and did a better job of cleaning up than I had before I’d left my place that morning. Feeling refreshed, I tucked in my shirt, straightened my hair, and applied a light coat of lip-gloss. I needed to look presentable before heading to the work-study office two blocks away.
“I’m sorry, Miss Hendrix. The only thing available right now is in the cafeteria.” The woman in the financial aid office peered at me over her glasses as she read from her computer. “There’s not much left this late in the semester. We might have something else open up this summer when people start going home, although, we don’t have as many positions then since campus is quieter.”
“All right. I guess I’ll take it. What do I need to do?” I wasn’t excited about cafeteria work at eight dollars an hour, but it was 15 more hours of work per week I’d had when I walked into her office. It would drop to 10 hours a week over the summer when food service offered limited dining hours.
Walking away with paperwork in hand for my new job, I knew I was in trouble. I would figure it out, but I was going to have to sit down and take a good hard look at my finances. Going from unlimited wealth to $120 a week in income and an employee discount in the cafeteria was a big change.
My apartment was only paid until the end of the month, so rent money was my first priority. Adele was gone, so I had no need for gas money or maintenance costs. I needed to eat, and though food at Columbia was decent, it wasn’t what I was used to. No more binging on baguettes and wine for me. My lifestyle was radically changing.
I wished I had grabbed the change out of Adele’s ashtray. I knew I’d left some crumpled bills and a bunch of change in there. Having gone through the purses in the back of my closet, scavenged coins out of drawers and from under the couch cushions, I had only $1.49 to my name until payday.
After the sad showing in financial aid, I called Dr. Brovinski and took the job working nights in the biology lab. That added 12 more hours a week to my workload. I wasn’t a night person, so I hoped I wouldn’t embarrass myself more than I already had.
I’d never been so tired in my life. Working eight to midnight three nights a week for Dr. Brovinski plus my three days a week bussing tables, serving food, and running a cash register in the cafeteria was a lot. Adding that to my 18 hours of classes left barely enough time to study and sleep. I didn’t get many breaks, but I made sure to enjoy the ones I got.
Enjoying a rare afternoon off, I decided to join the Climbing Club at the indoor gym for an hour. I needed to burn off some stress. I had been shocked when I realized Dad was serious about cutting me off. Usually, he forgot his threats after a few days, and I was hoping our latest argument would end the same way. It didn’t.
Climbing a new route, muscles shaking, sweat dripping off my chin, I fought to reach the next hold above my head. I’d neglected my climbing, and it felt good to stretch my muscles and exercise again.
“Go, Kinsey!” My teammates cheered me on from the mat below. Reaching as far as I could I stretched to gain the last inch I needed, I finally made it to the top and rang the bell.
I let out an exhausted sigh as they lowered me down. Climbing expended a lot of energy, leaving me wiped out but exuberant. It was my happy place. Challenging myself and using my muscles gave me time to focus on the physical, which usually led to relaxed thinking. I would climb a lot before studying. It seemed to open up my mind and help me remember more.
This time after my introspective review, I decided to talk to my dad again. I’d been on my own for a month. Work-study in the cafeteria was awful, but helped pay the bills. Well, some of my bills.
I had come to the awful realization that if my father wouldn’t help me pay rent, I would have to find a roommate or let my amazing apartment go and move into a budget-friendly studio. My tuition was paid; my mother made sure of that before she passed, but housing wasn’t included. She probably never thought he’d cut me off.
This time I dressed in a sparkly jacket, skinny jeans, and some strappy sandals to brave the lion in his den. It was my armor. By looking good, I felt good. I was confident that maybe I could get him to listen to me. I went prepared with progress reports from all my classes and payroll stubs from work study, proving I could work, go to school, and support myself. He’d picked out the apartment, one of the only things he had done that I liked. I loved the open floor plan, big windows, great location, and underground covered parking. It was a building owned by Hendrix BioTech, and a lot of their scientists and engineers lived there. It was safe, and I really didn’t want to leave it.
“Hi, James!” The security guard was occupied on the phone, so I just waved as I swept past, my shiny blond hair swinging freely behind me. James tried to get me to stop, but I kept walking. I didn't feel like chatting that day. I was too nervous about the uncomfortable meeting that was sure to come.
Slipping into the elevator, I took a fortifying breath and pushed the button for the top floor. The elevator rose, and I had a few moments to think before the doors opened and I had to face his secretary with a smile. When they finally did open, I stepped out with my head held high and ready to face anything.
Nikki, his secretary, looked up from the computer. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she said with a high-pitched Bronx accent, “What are you doing here, Kinsey?”
“Hi, Nikki,” I said between clenched teeth. “I’d like to see my dad please.”
“Sorry, Kinsey, but he doesn’t want to be disturbed.” She went back to filing her nails.
“Please let him know I’m here. He’ll see me,” I insisted, eliciting an irritated sigh from her.
“No, Kinsey. I’m sorry.” She really did seem sorry. Sympathy radiated from those kohl-rimmed eyes. “A month ago, he specifically said I was not let you in.”
“Please just buzz him and ask if he'll speak with me. Please?” I practically begged—a position I never wanted to be in with Nicki.
“I am so sorry, Kinsey,” she said, reaching for the phone as she scooted closer to her desk and re-crossed her long legs. “I'm afraid if you don't leave, I'm going to have to call security.”
“Okay! Okay! I'm going.” I backed toward the elevator before pivoting and leaving and tried not to cry yet again as I rode the elevator down to the main floor.
James met me as the doors parted, and I stepped into the lobby. He apologized before I could even get a word out. “I am so sorry, Kinsey. I tried to catch you, but I couldn't get off the phone in time. I never wanted you to find out he banned you from the building like that.”
I collapsed into his arms.
Chapter 6
Mason
Sitting across from Noah, I leaned back in one of the fancy leather high back chairs he had in his office. I crossed my legs at the knee and hooked my arm over the back of the chair. “It’s been too long, Noah,” I said. “You need to quit working so much. It’s been—what—a month since our last racquetball game?”
I had popped in unannounced in hope of talking him into a quick lunch. A month had passed since I’d last tried to pry him away from his work. This time didn’t look any more promising than the last.
He smirked at me. “Mason, work has been keeping me busy. The biotech business is booming, and we are on the verge of several breakthroughs. The company doesn’t run itself, you know.”
“No, they never do. Phantomfire Media is taking off, too. I don’t think I have left the office before eight in months. I am serious, though. We need to meet at the club and work off some steam.” Noah never stressed me out; we were a lot alike. Everyone else was awe of him, worried about his stern, icy exterior. I’d known him since I was a teenager and had grown up in his shadow. We thought a lot alike; our minds were analytical, calculating, and ran a mile a minute.
“Call me next week,” Noah said, “and we’ll plan something. I’ll email you my schedule. I just got a new racquet I need to try out. You’ve just caught me at a busy time right now. I’ve got a conference call in 15 minutes, and I need to prepare.” Reaching for the phone on his desk, he paged his secretary.
“Nikki, can you bring me the biofilm file for my call?” He paused. “Yes. Here in my office.” He hung up the phone and smiled at me. “I’m glad your new company is doing well. I’d be interested in sitting down and looking over your projections, too.”
Taking my cue to leave, I stood up and straightened my suit coat. “Definitely. I’d love to get your opinion on our stock options and financial prospectus.”
We shook hands, and Noah settled back into his desk. I decided to grab some lunch down the street since he couldn’t join me. Riding the elevator down to the lobby, I mulled over solutions to some of the challenges my company was facing. When the elevator doors opened, I was so lost in thought I stepped out without looking and ran right into a lithe, blond bundle of angry energy walking past.
“Oof!” I heard her take a quick breath. I looked down to find a pair of big blue eyes staring up at me. My arms wrapped around her soft, curvy body to keep her from falling. With her nose buried in my chest, I enjoyed the soft, sweet smelling woman pressed up against me.
“Hi there.” I watched as she freed herself from my arms. “Can I help you?” My eyes danced at her predicament.
“Oh! I am so sorry.” She gasped and laughed with me.
Carefully I set her on her feet, far enough away from me so I couldn’t feel her lush body or smell her faint, intoxicating perfume. She was the kind of woman that could get a man in trouble.
“I’m Mason. Nice to meet you.” I grinned. She was attractive, and even with her curves, looked athletic. Maybe I should ask her out. Despite her upset, she was cute in her yoga pants and loose top. She reminded me of the stunning blond I’d spotted coming out of the Hendrix building a month ago.
“I’m Kinsey,” she said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. She took a step back from me and tucked a lock of golden blond hair behind a perfectly-shaped ear.
At the sound of her name, I stilled. Kinsey? This can’t be Kinsey! It had been years since Noah’s daughter left for boarding school. I remember all the yelling between Kinsey and Noah back then. She’d screamed at her dad for packing her off ‘to go live with nuns in a convent” right after her mom got sick.
Noah had no idea what to do with a teenage daughter who stayed out all night and a sick wife who needed round-the-clock care. He could manage billion dollar deals, wining and dining foreign dignitaries without breaking a sweat. However, making a teenage girl follow curfew? Impossible.
"Noah’s Kinsey?” Even as I asked the question I knew it had to be her.
Two deep blue pools swimming with unshed tears peered up at me. I knew those eyes, although the body they were attached to had changed. It had grown
lush, round curves that were packed into a dynamite package. This can’t possibly be Kinsey!
“Yes. Do I know you? Wait… Mason?” Her eyes widened, the tears threatening to spill over. Hitching her bag up on her shoulder, she sniffed and blinked rapidly. “Sorry. It’s been a really bad day.”
“You look like you’re in a hurry. Do you have time to catch up over lunch?”
“I shouldn’t. I was just going to try and talk to my dad again, but it’s probably useless.”
“I just saw him,” I said. “He’s tied up in a meeting. How about the cafe next door?” I really wanted to know how she was doing. With her mom passing while she was overseas and her strained relationship with her father, my brother and I had worried about her when she disappeared. I hadn’t seen her in years. No wonder I didn’t recognize her from across the street. She had really grown up.
She nodded and I quietly berated myself for the smile I couldn’t hide. Noah would not be pleased. I took one last lascivious look at her body and told myself I couldn’t go there. What a pity she was Noah’s daughter.
A waiter led us to a table for two by the big front windows. Our table overlooked the busy street, and I could see business women out for lunch, society women walking by with shopping bags, men with briefcases, joggers, and kids with their nannies.
Moments later, another waiter in a starched white shirt and maroon vest approached us. “Welcome to the Bistro. I’m Andrew. What can I get you to drink?”
I nodded in Kinsey’s direction. “The lady would like…?”
“A sour apple martini with Grey Goose.” Alcohol might not be the answer to everything, but Kinsey sure looked like she needed a drink right then.
I nodded. “I’ll have a scotch on the rocks.”
Mason: The Lost Billionaires, Book 1 Page 4