Billionaire's Kiss

by Sloan Storm

  Damn it to hell if she didn’t have another point. It wasn’t hard to see why she and Maddie were friends. Fucking straight shooters, the both of ‘em. I sniffed at her response and took another sip of my drink. One way or the other, the issue wasn’t worth arguing. I’d say she was wrong and she’d point out all the ways my deeds don’t match up with my words.

  Except I had the sense that Katy didn’t know much more than I did about Maddie’s whereabouts. She was grandstanding. You know? Deflecting the blame back on me? And why not? I’m the easy target.

  But if I were to take a guess, it would be that when she and Maddie finally got back together, she could say with a clean conscience that she didn’t give up any info about Maddie’s whereabouts. In one respect, I understood her position, but as someone with at least an equal share in the outcome of this, I felt like Katy owed me a bit more cooperation than I’d gotten up until now.

  “You want money?” I asked, almost as a throwaway comment. It was a simple test. No one would know her answer except us.

  “What? Fuck you Greyson.”

  I nodded. Okay, good sign.

  “What then? More clients? New offices?”

  As I spoke, Katy snapped her head back towards me. In a calm, clear voice she replied, “I want my friend back, Greyson. I want my friend. Nothing more.”

  I smiled and changed the subject.

  “So what’s your story?” I began. “You seeing anybody?”

  “Uh!” she said, as she looked at me with disgust. “You cannot be serious, Greyson. Gross!”

  “What?” I replied, as I glanced in her direction. “Oh come on, don’t flatter yourself, Katy.”

  “Fuck you, Greyson.”

  Feisty one. Without realizing it, I started to enjoy her company more than I expected.

  “Call me, Grey,” I said with a wink.

  “Okay, fuck you, Grey.”

  “Not what I meant,” I replied with a chuckle. “I was only being polite. Give me a little credit would you? I’ve got enough options in this world. I don’t need to poach best friends.”

  I glanced in her direction to see a sheepish grin plastered to her face. “I’m sorry.”

  I shrugged. “Forget it. Look, we’re both on edge because we want the same thing.”

  “Maddie,” she said with a nod, before she took another sip of her drink.

  “Yeah. Any ideas?”

  Katy sighed. “Not really, no. She’s never done this before.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Katy swirled her drink in her hand. “Disappear like this. Sooner or later, I always hear from her. Not this time. Not yet anyway.”

  I rubbed my chin as she spoke.

  “What about family? I know she’s not close with them or anything, but do you think she might have turned to them out of desperation?”

  “Maybe,” Katy said, as she nodded. “That’s as good as anywhere to begin a search, I suppose.”

  “Got a name for ‘em? An address?” I asked.

  “Not on me, no but I could find it at the apartment. I’m almost sure she wrote them down once as an emergency contact. I can dig it up.”

  I motioned for the bartender to bring the check.

  “Want another?” I said to her just before I did.

  “No.”

  About ten minutes later, Katy and I stood in the lobby of the hotel. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and swiped it on.

  “All right,” I began. “So are you gonna text me the info for her parents or…”

  As I spoke, I glanced down at Katy to see her wiping tears away from her eyes. Noticing I’d noticed, she swallowed hard and waved her hand in front of her face.

  “Sorry,” she said with a rasp. “I’m sorry.”

  I nodded and smiled. “Everything is going to be all right. I promise. We’ll find her and work it out. Okay?”

  She nodded, but even so, the tears continued to flow. As they did, Katy reached in her bag and rummaged through it. After thirty seconds or so, she still hadn’t come up with a tissue.

  What the hell was with her and Maddie and these purses?

  Just then, a room service cart rolled by. Thinking quickly, I reached down and snatched a clean dinner napkin from it.

  “The gold napkin ring is no charge.” I said, as I handed it to her.

  Her shoulders jostled in amusement as she took it from me and dabbed at her eyes.

  “Thank you, Grey.”

  “Anytime.”

  As she dried her tears, she looked up at me and asked me something I never would have expected from someone as hard-nosed as her.

  “Could I hug you?”

  Stunned, I hesitated for a moment or two before I replied. “Really? No shit huh?”

  She nodded and fought back another round of tears.

  “Okay, all right.” I replied, as I opened my arms to her. “Come on. Let’s not make a big scene out of it.”

  As she wrapped her arms around my midsection, Katy pressed her face hard into my chest and muttered, “I miss her Grey. So much.”

  I slid my arm down around her.

  “I understand, Katy,” I began. “I really do.”

  MADDIE

  Gray skies, corn and shame.

  Those were three main tourist attractions of the town I grew up in, in Indiana. And a few days after my blowout with Grey and Katy, it was where I found myself once again. Why go back, you ask, to a place where I’d be wet all the time, covered in either a fog-driven fine mist, heavy rain or in the winter, snow that clung to you like Nature’s own blanket of death?

  Why, oh why, indeed? Well, the answer was simpler than you’d expect.

  Desperation.

  Los Angeles was just too complicated and too toxic right now. Katy broke my trust and Grey, well, he shattered pretty much everything else. As far the business went, Grey could have it if he wanted it. I was done. Good luck dragging me back. So on the heels of that mess, what better place to return to than the place that rejected me to begin with all those years ago?

  To say my folks were religious would be stating the obvious, like saying the sky in Indiana from October until April is the color of the inside of a dirty ashtray. Of the two of them, my Dad was the worst. A Bible-thumping legend in a land filled with them.

  In their defense, they wanted the best for me, like most parents do. When I’d left with Trevor for Hollywood five years before without being married, or even having so much as an engagement ring on my finger, well, let’s just say they weren’t thrilled. And even though my parents never disowned me outright, they might as well have considering all the contact we’d had since, which was none.

  Yet, in the wake of everything happening back in LA, I needed to get away and clear my head. Why did I come here instead of jetting off to some tropical locale? Because I’m a complete idiot is why! Not only that, but I was certain my first encounter with them would be filled with ‘I told you so’s and ‘you never listen’s which, uh, I dreaded. Even though I wasn’t religious myself, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t pray for a quick and painless reunion scolding from them.

  So you can imagine my relief when I knocked on the front door and received a welcome that was almost the complete opposite of what I expected. My mom cried right away, which, of course, made me cry. Even Dad, a man who spoke maybe the equivalent of twenty words when I was a child, including grunts, got a little misty-eyed.

  My folks, Jim and Nikki Olsen, had aged. Which, I know. Obvious right? But when I first saw them again, it shocked me. For the first time in my life, they seemed, I dunno, old? It’s funny how your mind freezes people with your last image of them, isn’t it? I suppose it’s the brain’s way of keeping things interesting.

  Anyway, after the initial shock of that wore off, we spent a fair bit of time catching up. And although they appeared to be interested and attentive in the aftermath of our emotional greeting, I sensed the inevitable finger-wagging wouldn’t be far behind.

  At some point, the
conversation veered towards the predictable questions about Trevor. Like, for starters, where was he? They’d warned me I’d wind up alone doing things the way I’d done them and now here I sat, prophecy fulfilled.

  Parents one, Maddie zero.

  Side note, but that was another thing I resented about the way things wound up between me and Trevor. He had fared better than me in all facets of the breakup. He got the cushy job. He got the Hollywood life. He never lost touch with his parents and on and on. In the end, his entire world outside of the two of us remained intact while mine -- imploded.

  Sitting on the same chocolate-brown sectional my parents had owned since I was six years old, I twirled my hair around a finger during a pause in the conversation. My mom sat to my left on the couch while my father sat off to my right, in his easy chair.

  “Maddie, sweetie.” My mom began as she touched my knee. “Do you want to tell me what’s on your mind? Why are you here?”

  I released my hair and placed my hands in my lap. Exhaling, I replied, “I just needed to get away. Aside from the break up with Trevor, things haven’t been going that great for me.”

  “I see,” my mom replied. “Well, you’re welcome to sleep in your old room, of course.”

  I turned and looked at her. “You kept my room like I left it?”

  “Of course, dear. After all, I knew you’d be back sooner or later.”

  My mom wasn’t the sort of person who tried to be clever with her words, so I didn’t take the ‘sooner or later’ part of her response as an insult. She meant it in a loving way. Even so, I’m sure she would rather I had come back to it under happier circumstances.

  “How long will you be staying?” she asked.

  I glanced at her, then at my father, before I replied. Shrugging, I said, “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet.”

  My mother smiled and patted me on the knee. Without addressing my reply, she said, “I’m going to get your father and me a cup of coffee. Would you like one?”

  “No,” I began, as I looked at her. “No, thank you.”

  With that, she smiled and walked away, leaving me alone with my father for the first time in over half a decade. I swallowed hard as she disappeared into the kitchen. As she did, I drew my vision towards him, where he sat, arms now crossed at his chest looking down at me over his glasses, which clung at the tip of his nose.

  He nodded as he began to speak. “Maddie, if you’re going to stay here, you’re going to have to pay your way. Your mother and I, we’re both retired now and living on fixed incomes. You understand that don’t you?”

  Although I didn’t care for the tone, I got the message.

  “Yes, Dad.”

  After I finished, he remained cross-armed and closed off from me. He drew his eyebrows together in an expectant look, framing his face in impatience.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I’m waiting, Madeline.”

  Ugh, Madeline. I hadn’t even been here for an hour yet and already he was using that.

  “For what, Dad? I heard you.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure you did.”

  Thinning my lips, I gestured towards the kitchen and parroted his comment to me from a moment before. “Uh, you and Mom retired. Fixed income. I heard you. I’m not deaf.”

  “Okay, then,” he said. “I suggest you begin looking for work first thing tomorrow. I’ll give you until the end of the week to find something. If you don’t, you can’t stay here. Got me?”

  Of course, I didn’t have to work anywhere if I didn’t want to. The business brought in plenty of money. Hell, with that kind of income, I could live like royalty here. But I knew there was right around zero chance my folks would approve of the sort of business we ran. And I couldn’t just sit around the house and pay them because they’d want to know where the money came from, which, of course, would lead me back to the original problem of telling them what I did.

  So, instead, I lied. “Yes. I understand. I’ll start looking first thing tomorrow.”

  MADDIE

  Not wishing to piss my parents off and risk being homeless in the span of a few days, I wasted no time finding some temporary employment. As luck would have it, it didn’t take all that long. See, the best part about coming from a small town is half the population never leaves. And sooner or later, all those family-run businesses change hands as the next generation steps in and assumes control.

  Which leads me to the place I wound up working…

  Awkward though it was, I managed to get a position at the only coffee shop in town, the Brew Ha Ha which, ugh, I know.

  Unfortunately, the awkwardness had nothing to do with the name of the place.

  Although it had been opened by his mom and dad over twenty years ago, the current owner was none other than the last guy I dated before I skipped town with Trevor, Brian Mulrooney. When we were kids, his nickname was “Stringbean” due to his slim build. However, by the time high school rolled around he’d begun to fill out and quite nicely, if memory serves.

  Now though?

  Um, let’s just say the ‘filling’ continued. And continued. And. Continued.

  So much so though, that as I leaned against the hand sink behind the counter and watched him squat down in front of me to service the espresso machine, I had a hard time distinguishing where his waist stopped and his butt started. He’d grown so large that his back fat folded in from the sides towards his spine, making it appear as if his ass crack was nearly a foot long.

  As he worked, I stared at the fissure with a mix of disgust and awe, amazed at the human body’s ability to adapt. After a few more minutes of listening to grunts from him and the occasional clank of his wrench against the metal tubing under the beverage maker, he stood, and hitched up his pants.

  “That should do it,” he said, as he turned back towards me. A translucent mustache of sweat bubbled across his upper lip as he continued, “If that steam wand starts acting up again, I’ll need the flashlight for it and it’s out in the truck. But if it does, tell me right away ‘cuz I’ll have to get back down there on my hands and knees and work on it.”

  Ick.

  “Um, okay,” I said, as I wiped my hands across the front of my apron. “I’m sure it’ll be fine until after my shift is over.”

  He frowned at me for a moment, uncertain of exactly what I meant, and then after a quick shrug, disappeared into the back. I smiled and wiped off the steam arm with a towel as I looked around the almost empty coffee bar.

  The only person there was Mr. Wilson. A former high school gym coach, he was now a retired widower who passed his time amongst the living by spending most of his day here. I’m sure it wasn’t easy being alone. I admired that about him. There was a quiet dignity to it.

  And speaking of quiet, the truth was that except for the big rush in the morning and a smaller one right around lunch, the restaurant was quite peaceful most of the day. And, as much as I hated being here for some reasons, there was something about the slower pace that soothed me. Maybe at an unconscious level it was what I needed at this point in my life. Because even though I’d been gone for a couple of weeks now, I still had no desire, zero, to go back to LA.

  I glanced up at the clock on the wall and saw it was a little past three, which was a bit early for my break but I was starving and we were dead.

  “Brian,” I called out. “Can I take my break now?”

  “That’s fine,” he yelled back.

  After grabbing a roast beef on a croissant from the refrigerated display, I pulled up a chair and sat at one of the tables near the front of the coffee shop. As usual the weather outside threatened my fragile mental state with an ever-present gloom.

  However, at least the sandwich was tasty. I suppose Brian didn’t get that big by accident. Kimmie, his wife, was the cook. Her food was delicious. No question about it.

  It began to rain outside as I ate. Before long, enough fell so that it sprayed out from beneath the tires of cars as they pa
ssed by. Chewing another bite of my sandwich, I swore I could hear the hiss of the rubber against the wet pavement, but of course, I couldn’t.

  Just about that time, my phone vibrated in the front pocket of my apron. Putting my sandwich down, I reached in and pulled it out to read the text message. It was Katy. Again. I ignored it, as I had all the messages, calls and emails I’d received since I left. I still had nothing to say to anyone.

  I paid no attention to any of them. I didn’t want to go back. Not to what I left behind.

  So why didn’t I reply and simply tell everyone that’s how I felt?

  As I chewed a bite of the salted beef and buttery bread, I asked myself the question again. That was the right thing to do after all. Especially when it came to the business. It’s one thing to know what’s important in life; it’s another thing to follow through on it. I was in a situation where I wanted nothing to do with either knowing or doing.

  I shoved the phone back down in my apron and continued to eat.

  About ten minutes later, I finished my meal and after cleaning up, I went to the restroom. As I entered it, I noticed Mr. Wilson shuffling about looking as if he were preparing to leave. As I washed up, my suspicions were confirmed when I heard the chime from the front entrance go off.

  “Bye Mr. Wilson! See you tomorrow.”

  He always said the same thing when he left. ‘You will. The Good Lord and weather permitting.’

  Cracking open the bathroom door, I listened for his clever one-liner, but when I glanced to my left, I saw he hadn’t gone out at all.

  “Oh, Mr. Wilson,” I began, a bit taken back. I pointed in the direction of the coffee shop entrance and said, “I thought you left. I heard the chime go off and…”

  Turning my head towards the front door, I froze, my index finger mid-swivel right at the same instant my mouth dropped open in shock.

  “Grey?”

  It was like seeing him for the very first time all over again.

  With his hair coiffed to masculine perfection, Grey stood before me wearing a slim-fitting, long black trench coat. As always, his skin carried a hint of a tan, inferring superiority over the paler set. My eyes fell upon his and held there, as if by trance. We stared at one another for several seconds until Brian appeared from the back and looked at the two of us, looking at one another.