Billionaire Vacation

by Nella Tyler

  Instead of going into the office—which was already closed by the time I’d had enough—I went back to my apartment and did a load of laundry, and then I decided to do a little wandering around the city. I would take the opportunity to return a few of the presents I’d gotten that hadn’t fit, or exchange them for other things. As I was leaving the apartment to head into the downtown area, I started thinking that it’d be nice to check out the after-Christmas sales, too; Lush was having a buy one get one sale, and assuming that it wasn’t incredibly packed with people, and that I could make it there, I might be able to find some relaxing bath things.

  I spent some time wandering around, going from one shop to another; I probably should have done more of my trips in the car instead of on foot, but after two days of hanging out with my parents, eating myself almost sick, it felt good to walk steadily for a few hours. I decided that I was going to spend as much time as possible before New Year’s Eve away from my family; as much as I loved them, and as glad as I had been to see them, I didn’t like the questions.

  I’d been so sure that telling them that I was dating someone would help matters—that my parents and my siblings would back off a bit, since I had the prospect of a boyfriend. But more and more questions had come up over Christmas.

  “What kind of guy is this Patrick dude?”

  “Do you have any other guys on the hook—in case the one with the kid doesn’t work out?”

  “Is it weird to date someone who you see a bunch of times per week?”

  I obviously couldn’t tell them that I wasn’t even sure that the relationship with Patrick was going to go any further than it already had; if I admitted that things had gotten strained and weird between me and Patrick, I’d have to hear a million more questions about what I’d done wrong, and why I was pushing yet another guy away. I truly believed that I hadn’t actually done anything obviously wrong in my previous relationships; I hadn’t picked fights, I hadn’t consciously tried to push anyone away. Things just never seemed to really work out. Guys always tended to expect a girl to stop working or to get serious on a schedule. I’d met lots of guys who had wanted me to want to get married and have kids, and when I hadn’t been serious about them—when I’d been serious about my studies and then my career instead—they’d gotten more and more distant.

  I’d thought that with Patrick that wouldn’t be as much of an issue. He obviously spent a lot of time at work himself, and whenever he wasn’t at work he tried to be with Landon as much as possible. I’d figured a guy like that would be able to understand that I had priorities in my life that weren’t him. But now that things had become so strange between us, I had to wonder if I’d been wrong about that too.

  The possibility that Patrick had gone cold on me because he didn’t think that I would be a good co-parent for Landon nagged at me even as I made my way through the crowds hanging around different shops. I tried not to think about it, but it was definitely a possibility, and if it was the reason that things had gone sour between us, I couldn’t exactly blame Patrick for it. I didn’t know if I would be a good co-parent. Even though I’d wanted kids since I’d been a teenager, I didn’t know if I would be good even with my own kids—much less someone else’s kids, as a parent in their life long after they’d already set up a dynamic with their first parent. I liked kids—I wouldn’t have gone into the specialty that I had if I didn’t—but I knew that it was very different to be around a particular kid every day on an intimate level, instead of only seeing them for an hour several times a week.

  I exchanged the presents I’d gotten that I didn’t want, or that were too small—one of the nightgowns that Mom had gotten me was not my taste at all, and the slippers Dad had bought for me, while cute, didn’t fit on my feet. I got a new pair of slippers that did fit, and a nightgown that I liked a lot better—and which was made of nice, warm flannel instead of thin, gauzy nylon. I browsed the makeup counters and sniffed at a few perfumes, but I reminded myself that for the amount of money I was spending, I wasn’t going to get very much use out of them. I couldn’t and wouldn’t wear perfume to work, since so many of the kids had allergies that would be affected.

  I made it to Lush and gave into the frenzied bustle going on around me; while I couldn’t justify spending a hundred dollars on a perfume that I would get to use at best one night a week—and that was assuming that I went out at all—I was more than happy to put good money down on bath goodies to enjoy at the end of a hectic work week, especially with the weather being so cold and dry. I grabbed a basket and browsed as much as the press of other customers would allow me to, picking out a few of my old favorites and then moving on to look over some of the newer items. My basket slowly but surely filled up with one item after another: a few bath bombs that I wouldn’t get another chance to buy now that the holiday season was over, a couple of small bottles of shower gel in scents that would be nice, and some lotion.

  I added a few more items to my basket as I wandered around, already starting to feel better about life in general. Maybe when I got home I’d fill my bathtub, toss in one of the bath bombs, and soak for an hour or two while I listened to music. I’d exfoliate from head to toe and put a treatment in my hair, and then I would use one of my new shower gels, and give my feet a thorough scrub, and get out and slather myself with lotion afterwards. I’d sleep like the dead, and have enough energy and patience to deal with my parents’ questions for an entire day once more.

  I waited in line for the register and thought about some of the couples-minded items that Lush sold as the people in front of me inched forward. I’d always wanted to try their massage bars, but I hadn’t had anyone to use them on—or to use them on me. It was a small loss, I told myself as my turn at the register finally came up. I left the store before anything else could tempt me, and headed into the cold once more. I decided that I’d find somewhere good to grab dinner, and I’d maybe hit a couple of other stores while I was out, maybe pick up some pantry things just for the sake of making the trip less than completely gluttonous, and then I’d go home and just spend the rest of the night pampering myself.

  I wondered how Patrick’s Christmas with Landon and their family had gone. I’d been wondering off and on since I’d admitted I was seeing Patrick to my family—but I hadn’t been able to find the courage to call or text him to ask. If he didn’t answer me, I wouldn’t know whether it was because he was simply busy or because he honestly didn’t want to talk to me—and I didn’t want to stress myself out even more. I hoped that at least when I saw Landon again in a few days, at his next session, I’d be able to ask him about the kite I’d gotten for him, and find out whether he’d liked it. I hoped that Patrick would come in with his son, and stop playing games.

  As I was making my way back to my car, I remembered that I still had the big family New Years party ahead of me; now that I had told my family that I was seeing someone, they would expect me to show up with a date for the event. For a moment my heart sunk; I didn’t even know if Patrick wanted to see me at all again—and having to explain the fact that he wasn’t there to my parents would be more than a little bit awkward and annoying. But then I thought about it; if I didn’t have a date for New Year’s Eve, then I didn’t think that he would.

  I had to give him some credit; in spite of the fact that things had gotten strained between us, he had made an effort to see me again a few days before. Even if it had just been dinner and shopping, it had been nice to spend time with him. I thought about how it had felt when Patrick had kissed me next to my car; that at least had been just as good as it had ever been.

  As I looked for my car, I spotted the café where Patrick and I had gone on our first date and smiled to myself. It was packed—as I would expect on the day after Christmas—and it was easy for me to remember how nervous I’d been at the beginning of the date, and how much I’d wanted to see more of him by the time the date was over and we made out at my car.

  I stopped dead in my tracks when I realized that I cou
ld see Patrick in the café; he was sitting close to one of the windows, and my heart started beating faster. It’s a sign. You should call him. I shifted my shopping bags around and reached into my purse, smiling to myself. I had been thinking about how much better it would be to have Patrick with me at my parents’ annual party, and here was the perfect opportunity to invite him. If I played my cards right, I might even be able to run into the café and have a quick cup of coffee with him, and talk about where our relationship was. I was feeling brave and happy—and I looked up again to make sure that he wasn’t getting up to leave before I made my call.

  Instead of seeing him leaving though, I noticed that he wasn’t sitting alone. There was a woman at the table with him, and as I watched, Patrick laughed at something she said, reaching out to tousle her hair. All of the warmth in my body, all the happiness at spotting him at random in the big city right when I most wanted to try to make things better with him, evaporated. Well that explains why he’s been so weird, I thought as my eyes began to sting. I started walking away from the curb, back towards where I remembered parking my car, with my phone still in my hand. The last thing I wanted to do then was go into the café and talk to Patrick about anything.

  But I have never been a coward. I’d seen what had come between us: another woman, and though I hadn’t been able to make out much of her face, she was beautiful. Gritting my teeth, I decided that it was time to say something to Patrick after all. I pulled his contact information up again and instead of tapping the icon to call him, I opened up a new text message to him. I was going to give you a call—I’d seen that you were at the café we went to. But I’ve noticed that you’re seeing someone else. I wish you would have just told me. My fingers tapped on the screen, and I blessed the fact that I had gloves that would let me use my phone without having to freeze my fingers. I was going to invite you to come with me to my parents’ New Year’s Eve party, but obviously you’ve probably got other plans. It was nice to meet you, Patrick. I took a deep breath, debating whether to say anything else, and decided that that was more than enough. I tapped send, stuffed my phone into my pocket, and hurried to my car.

  Chapter Ten - Patrick

  “I cannot tell you how glad I am that you agreed to get coffee with me,” Jessica said for the third time since we’d left her house. As soon as I’d arrived to drop Landon off, I’d understood why she’d been so desperate to get out; the kids were in rare form, playing some make-believe game with their father, and I knew Landon would jump right in as soon as he could—which would be great for getting him to go to bed on time. The kids had all gotten spoiled by their grandparents that year, each of them getting a pile of noisy, stimulating toys, and I had said a little prayer of thanksgiving to myself that I only had one kid to contend with when it came to rambunctious playing.

  “I needed to get out as much as you did,” I pointed out. “Besides, with all the Christmas craziness we didn’t really get much chance to catch up on things.”

  “You’re damn right about that!” Jessica gave me a little smirk. “Like the fact that you’re seeing someone new. I had to get that from Landon.” I laughed. It had gotten out that I was seeing someone—Landon had mentioned Mack, but since he knew next to nothing about the relationship, I’d kept my mouth as shut as possible about it around the family, especially since I didn’t know how serious it could still, reasonably, become.

  “Yeah, well, he made a bet that I wouldn’t find him a new mom by New Year’s Day,” I said. “I had to make at least a token effort to prove him wrong.” I took a sip of my coffee, thinking of the pretty physical therapist and how much I’d wanted to make things right with her but didn’t seem to have any notion of how to go about doing that.

  “That’s a pretty crazy idea,” Jess told me, raising an eyebrow. “So what’s she like?” I took a breath and tried to think of just how I could describe Mack to my sister.

  “She’s beautiful,” I said, first. “She’s really dedicated to her work—that’s how we met, actually. She’s Landon’s physical therapist. She’s smart, too. And funny.” I smiled, remembering some of the jokes that Mack had made—almost all of them appropriate for all ages, and somehow so corny that they were funnier than they would have been had anyone else told them.

  “She’s good at her work,” Jessica said. “Landon isn’t even limping.”

  “He’s got a ways to go still,” I pointed out, “ but he’s making really good progress.”

  “You like her,” Jessica said, making it not quite a question.

  “I do,” I told her. “I just—I don’t know if we’re on the same page.”

  “What do you mean?” Jessica frowned. “Is she like, against premarital sex or something?”

  “No, nothing like that—and you really need to get a sex life of your own,” I replied. “I just don’t know how she feels about kids.”

  “Obviously she likes them or she wouldn’t be in the line of work she’s in,” Jessica told me matter-of-factly. “And that kite she got Landon is precious.”

  “I just don’t know if she’d be interested in being an almost-parent to Landon.”

  Jessica chuckled. “Brother-dear, you’ve known the woman for less than a month. The fact that you enjoy being around her, and Landon likes her, is enough for right now, don’t you think? You’ve gotten too wrapped up in this bet with Landon.”

  “Well, sister-dear,” I said, making a face at her, “I have to think about him. You know that. God forbid you lost your husband someday—with your kids still young—you’d want to know as soon as you could, dating someone, whether they’d work out with your kids, wouldn’t you?”

  “Well she works with Landon a few times a week, right?” I nodded. “And Landon likes her. After a month that’s kind of an amazing thing.”

  “She is good with him,” I admitted. “Better in some respects even than I am.” I grinned wryly. “Landon actually listens to her.”

  “Kids always listen to relative strangers more than they do their parents; it’s a fact of life.” Jess shrugged.

  “I might have already screwed things up,” I said with a sigh. “I canceled on her for a date—I told her I had a last-minute business dinner, but really it was because of some things she’d said while we were out together.”

  “What did she say that would make you cancel on a date?”

  “It’s dumb,” I said, shaking my head. “She said that she wasn’t sure that she’d ever get married or have kids—not that she didn’t want them, just that she’d sort of given up on the idea.”

  “You idiot! Of course she said that!” Jessica shook her head at me. “One, no woman wants to look like she’s rushing a relationship. It’s a sure-fire way to scare a guy off. Those are the kinds of things you start talking about six months in, usually.”

  “Yeah, but if we’re going to get serious, I have to at least know that she’s going to be okay with sometimes watching Landon, spending lots of time with him,” I countered. “And I can’t have her—or anyone—just waltzing in and out of Landon’s life. It’s why I haven’t really dated all this time. If it’s just going to be a fling, I need to know as soon as possible.”

  “You’re using Landon as an excuse to sabotage your relationship with this girl and that isn’t cool,” Jess told me flatly. “If you weren’t ready to date someone, you shouldn’t have asked her out on a second, third, or fourth date. You should have just said that it was really nice to see her socially, and left it at that.”

  “But I wanted to get to know her better.”

  “Well, the second thing I was going to say is that it’s possible that she has given up on getting married and having kids. There’s probably a lot of guys out there who can’t handle a woman who’s dedicated to her career, and from what you’ve said about her it doesn’t sound like she’s exactly been mauling the mattress the last few years.”

  “Sometimes you’re pretty crude Jess,” I said, grinning in spite of myself.

  “I’ve had
four kids, Pat. Any shame I might have ever had evaporated the first time I saw my infant son diddling himself.” I choked on a sip of coffee and had to take a moment to recover.

  “You can go on now,” I said, swatting my chest a few more times and shaking my head.

  “Anyway,” Jess said, shrugging. “Just because she’s given up on something like that happening doesn’t mean she doesn’t still want it, it just means she isn’t going into a relationship with any expectation of it. If you want to get married and have another kid, that’s something you should—I don’t know—tell her.” Jess grinned at me.

  “You’re right,” I said. “If I can convince her to ever see me again after the way the last date went, I’ll talk to her about it.”

  “Good boy,” Jessica said, reaching out and patting me on the head. I groaned and countered by reaching over the table to tousle her short hair.

  “I’m your older brother! Show some respect!” We both laughed. “It’s enough that I’ve admitted you’re right about something.”

  “Well I do happen to know a bit more about women than you, considering that I am one,” Jessica said, giving me a self-satisfied smile.

  “I will concede that you know more about being a woman than I ever will,” I said. “God, I’m glad I left the house.”

  Just then, my phone vibrated in my pocket. For just a second I felt a stab of panic, thinking that it was Jessica’s husband, calling to tell me that something had happened to one of the kids—maybe even Landon. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone as quickly as possible, telling myself that it could just as easily be my parents or one of my friends. Instead, the name that flashed on the screen was Mack’s.

  “Speak of the devil,” I said, as the notification showed a text message pending.

  “She texted you? That’s a good sign! Maybe you didn’t completely fuck this up after all.” I rolled my eyes and unlocked my screen, tapping the messages icon to open up the text.