Blazing Hot Spring

by Fiona Starr

  I pick up one of the magazines and stare at the cover. It’s a picture of me standing outside Platinum Industries’ building. I’m looking down at the camera with my arms crossed. Our skyscraper rises up behind me and fades into the sky. Across the cover it says:

  MR. PLATINUM

  Unbridled Passion Drives the Man Behind Brain Surgery’s Greatest Innovations

  I only have to read the introduction paragraph of the centerfold to see that Adam and I were so far off base about Nina that wrong doesn’t even begin to cover it. I double over and try to catch my breath. What have I done?

  I feel like I’ve been punched.

  “James!” I shout across the room.

  My assistant bolts into my office. “Yes? Are you all right?”

  “Can you call the jet? I need to get to Los Angeles as soon as possible.”

  James smiles as he recovers his composure. “I took the liberty of checking on that myself. Captain Fischer can be ready at Teterboro at eleven thirty. Shall I call him to confirm?”

  I gape at him. “Please. And James?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll need you to get an address for me.”

  He reaches into his inside coat pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. “Oh, I think I have that right here for you as well.” He walks over and places the address on my desk. “She’s about twenty-five minutes from Van Nuys Airport. Shall I arrange for a car once you land?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “You are very welcome, sir. And… your shower has been restocked with everything you need.” He makes a show of looking me up and down and then, sensing that he’s about to toe the line a bit too far, he makes a quick exit.

  I tap the button on my phone to call my assistant. “Yes, sir?” He answers as if he wasn’t just standing here.

  “James, call HR for me?”

  “Sir?” He can’t hide his concern.

  “I need to arrange for a raise for my assistant.”

  “Oh, yes, sir. Right away.”

  “That is of course assuming you haven’t already done that as well?”

  “No, sir. Sorry, sir.”

  “No need to apologize. Cancel my afternoon, would you?”

  “Consider it done.”

  NINA

  I pick up my mail and see my copy of Timesweek folded in with the rest of the magazines. I pull it out and stare at the cover—at Monty looking fierce and smoldering hot in the picture I had staged for him. The headline, Mr. Platinum, is in all caps, and the sub-heading spells out for all the world to see that I did not betray anyone.

  I try to swallow my anger.

  I laugh at myself. My anger. Anger masking fear.

  I can’t believe Montgomery Ford finds it so easy to mistrust. I can’t believe I spent two weeks of my life tasting absolute bliss only to have it torn away from me. And it’s true; I am angry because I am scared. I am petrified that what we had, however brief, will never come again. I’m afraid that I will never feel as close to another human being as I feel to Montgomery Ford.

  Nothing feels right since leaving him.

  Part of me screams that I should have gone back and fought with him, fought for him. Part of me wishes I had come clean in the conference room and told him that I was consulting with Tommy as my replacement, but professional pride held me back on that one. Part of me wants to go there now and throw this magazine in his face and make him see that he was fucking wrong.

  But the other part of me won’t allow that. I won’t grovel. He’ll find out eventually that I was telling the truth and then… and then what? I’ll go running back in his arms because he says I am allowed? No way.

  It’s been three weeks since that night on the jet that changed everything. And now I am not sure how I am supposed to move forward—assuming I can at all.

  I’ve spent all day in my pajamas watching old movies and wishing I’d never seen the Timesweek cover. It tears at my heart to know how fragile it all was. I wonder where Monty is right now, and if he feels even a shred of what I’m feeling.

  The doorbell rings. I grab my wallet and take out cash for the Chinese food delivery guy. I only have twenty-dollar bills and I don’t even care if he gives me change.

  I open the door and fish a second twenty out of my wallet. When I look up, I don’t see the delivery guy with my brown bag with the top folded over and stapled neatly.

  Instead it’s him.

  Montgomery Ford stands outside my door with a bouquet of red roses.

  I am not sure what to do. I want to yell at him. I want to punch him and throw him out. I want to tell him that he’s an asshole for assuming the worst in me when I never gave him reason to. I wish I had a container of lo mein so I could dump it over his head.

  “Nina. I am so sorry.” He looks terrible, like he hasn’t slept.

  Good.

  He offers me the flowers.

  I take them and I still can’t unravel my thoughts.

  “Nina… I wish I could go back. I’d do it all differently. I—”

  I grab his shirt and pull him to me and kiss him. I can’t help it. I can’t stop myself.

  We slam against the wall in my apartment.

  He pulls away and smiles at me, and his eyes are glassy with emotion. “I was afraid I’d lost you.”

  I blink back tears and kiss him again. “I am so glad you’re here. I don’t ever want to be angry and apart like that ever again.”

  He wraps his arms around me and whispers in my ear. “I won’t ever let you go.”

  First Epilogue

  ONE YEAR LATER

  NINA

  We’re on the floor of the stock exchange and Monty is about to ring the opening bell. Platinum Industries had an incredible amount of interest during the pre-IPO period, and while there are no guarantees, there is every expectation that the stock will take off once trading begins today.

  The excitement is palpable as the clock closes in on nine thirty. Monty watches and when the time comes, he presses the button and the bell sounds and everyone applauds the launch of the Platinum Industries’ Initial Public Offering.

  Monty smiles. “This is it!”

  “I am so proud of you!” We have to shout over the noise of the trading floor.

  The board of directors and their families and friends file out the doors, leaving Monty and me alone on the little balcony that overlooks the stock exchange.

  I turn to leave and Monty grabs my hand.

  “Nina, wait. One second.”

  “We have to go, everyone’s waiting.”

  He gets down on one knee and opens a black velvet box, revealing a gigantic diamond ring.

  “Monty…” The extravagance takes my breath away. “My goodness.”

  “Nina, you’ve made me the happiest man alive.”

  “Don’t you think you should wait until the market closes before you say things like that?” I laugh.

  He laughs with me. “It doesn’t matter what happens today. That’s not what I am talking about.” His face grows serious. “Nina, before I met you, I thought I would spend the rest of my life making up for a mistake I didn’t make but that stole everything from me. I thought I’d carry that weight with me until the day I died. You’ve shown me a way through that, and you’ve done it with patience and understanding that I could never have imagined. You’re the reason my heart beats, Nina. I promised that I’d never let you go, but I never asked if you’d have me. Will you have me?”

  I can feel my eyes well up with tears and I smile at the man who holds my heart. “Yes, silly. Of course I’ll have you. Forever and always.”

  He stands up and slips the ring on my finger and the room explodes in cheers and applause.

  I laugh. “I forgot we had an audience.”

  He looks over his shoulder at the crowd below, who have gone back to the business of trading stocks. “You’re the only one that matters.”

  We walk off the floor and as the door closes behind us I know that we’re together in th
e most fundamental way. There is no more uncertainty, no more hesitation. Together we have found a safety that allows us to be fully ourselves, always.

  Second Epilogue

  ANOTHER YEAR LATER

  NINA

  “You’d think this was a royal wedding or something.” My sister Maddie peeks out through the curtain into the church and just shakes her head, pointing up into the air. “There are paparazzi hiding up in the balcony. I just watched some guy climb up behind the pipe organ for a better view.”

  The Blaze family is no stranger to the prying eyes of the photographers, but something about my marriage to Monty Ford has caught the attention and imagination of the press and the public.

  “Come away from there, unless you want your face in the news. Don’t give them anything to take a picture of.”

  The headlines leading up to our union had these crazy titles like the most recent one: Fire and Metal - A Match Forged in Platinum, as if we were living in some kind of epic fantasy novel. The whole thing feels strange and this level of attention feels odd, but on the whole it’s been harmless and interesting, and has brought an incredible amount of attention to Monty’s foundation, which is thriving.

  We’re waiting in the little sitting room until it’s time for us to line up for the procession. Everyone is here, and everything is perfect. The flowers are perfect, the dresses are perfect, everyone’s in a festive mood. Even the weather is perfect; we seriously couldn’t have asked for more.

  Monty and I knew this was going to happen; after his proposal on the floor of the stock exchange, our relationship took on fairy tale proportions and not a day has passed that we weren’t asked by the media or something was printed speculating about the planning. So it’s no surprise that our wedding is such an ordeal.

  It’s what made us decide to elope last month. We snuck aboard and jetted off to Maui without telling anyone, except Monty’s assistant, James, and while the rest of the world was minding their own business, we said our “I dos” in private; just us.

  Today is a big day, and it’s going to be lovely and special and memorable, but it’s that night last month on the beach with Monty that I will hold in my heart forever.

  James had arranged for a local pastor, Mr. Kahale, to marry us on the beach. The man arrived with his wife, Ailani, and their five children to stand as witnesses. They draped ceremonial lei over our shoulders and sang traditional Hawaiian wedding songs, and his children did a traditional wedding dance for us while we watched them in the light of the torch flames. It was warm and intimate, romantic and so full of love. By the end of the night, the Kahale family felt like friends. After the ceremony, we sat around and talked and then the pastor played Elvis’ Can’t Help Falling in Love on his ukulele. It was our first dance together as Mr. and Mrs Ford. It was perfect, and tender, and left a mark on our hearts that will stay forever.

  “What are you smiling at?” my sister asks. “You look like you’re a million miles away.”

  I turn to her, still smiling. “Maui,” I say, without any additional information. Monty and I decided not to tell anyone, not even our families, about our secret wedding. With all the media and everything surrounding every other aspect of our lives, it felt like one thing we could hold close and keep for ourselves.

  “You look happy, Nina. I am so happy for you.” She kisses my cheek and squeezes my shoulders. “I’ll go see if they’re almost ready.”

  A moment later, the curtain slides open and Monty slips inside the tiny room. He tip-toes over to the window like he’s sneaking and places his phone and a tiny speaker on the sill.

  “Before things get too crazy, I wanted a moment with my wife.” He smiles and reaches a hand out to me.

  I go to him and wrap my arms around his waist. “Shh. Don’t let anyone hear you call me that. Not for another hour at least.”

  He taps his phone and then turns to me, his muscled arms encircling me in an embrace.

  A ukulele strum fills the air and I feel my body ease at the familiar sound. After a moment, Mr. Kahale’s voice fills the tiny room.

  “For my young friends, Nina and Monty. May there always be laughter in your house, passion in your life, and aloha in your heart. Much, much aloha.”

  Then the strumming morphs into the familiar song and we’re back on the beach, the fire from the torches warming our skin, as Mr. Kahale’s words carry us away.

  Wise men say…

  Monty pulls me close, his lips next to my ear. “Aloha, wife,” he whispers.

  “Aloha, husband.” I press my body against his as we sway to the music. The rest of the world outside the room drifts away and there is only us and our special secret bond that will always and forever be ours alone.

  More Mr. Billionaire Short Stories…

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  April: Spring Break Surprise

  Spring Break Surprise: A Spring Breakers Short Story

  Copyright © 2019 by Fiona Starr

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  First Epilogue

  Second Epilogue

  More Spring Breakers Stories…

  Chapter One

  BRIDGET

  “Hola! Welcome to La Concha Azul. Are you checking in?” The woman at the counter wears a pale blue suit with a bright turquoise scarf tied at her neck. Her dark hair is twisted into a low bun that sits over one shoulder.

  The front desk of the resort hotel is like many in this part of Mexico with an enormous open-air pavilion and high ceilings that arch way up, giving the feeling of being outside.

  I place my bags on the floor and pull out my wallet. “Yes. Thank you. I’m Bridget Blaze.” I hand her my driver’s license and credit card and wait while she pulls up my reservation.

  “Miss Blaze. Yes, here you are. You’re booked in Tortuga House with the Susannah Mitchell party.” She returns my cards, hands me my room key, and waves to someone over my shoulder. “Ricardo will see you to your rooms. The rest of your party has already arrived. Have a wonderful stay with us.”

  A young man dressed in khaki shorts and a tropical shirt in the same shade of turquoise as the woman’s scarf appears by my side. “Buenos días, Miss.” He nods once, grabs the handle of my rolling suitcase, and lifts my computer bag onto his shoulder. “This way, Miss.”

  I follow him through the pavilion and down the familiar wide staircase to the main avenue that runs through the resort and ends at the beach. When we step into the sun, I put my sunglasses on and try to settle into vacation mode. I feel like I am out of practice, and watching Ricardo with my computer bag, I’
m reminded that despite being in the most gorgeous resort with my best friends, I won’t be enjoying too much actual vacation time while I’m here.

  Spring Break at La Concha Azul has become a tradition with me and a group of my friends since our freshman year in college. Susannah Mitchell and I met on our first day of orientation as roommates, and have been inseparable ever since. Our dorm suite-mates, Lizzy and Rosa, quickly made us a foursome, and our across-the-hall neighbors, Tina and Dionne rounded out our six-pack.

  The first year, when Spring Break rolled around, my dad used his connections in the hotel business to get us a suite at La Concha Azul. That trip was one that cemented our friendship, and we’ve been coming here every year since. Now in our seventh year, it’s become the only time we really get to see each other, and we’ve all vowed to never miss a trip—no matter what.

  The no-matter-what clause of our pledge is the reason I find myself here, planning to work on my thesis during Spring Break. I’m only a couple of months away from completing my master’s in Environmental Engineering, and I really need this week to make some progress before the deadline.

  Also, I really need a break. I’ve been going full-throttle since starting school, focused solely on my work. As important as it is to me, I’m starting to feel the strain. There’s only so long this girl can go without some serious down-time.