The Girl in the Café

(A Short Story Prequel of Sorts to "The Billionaire's Price")

"You sure you don't want me to gift wrap it for you?" says the shop clerk.

She's about my age and Asian —probably Korean-American, if I were to guess from the k-pop shirt she's wearing. She's been more than helpful in assisting me and Ben with picking out Corinne's gift. "It's free," she added.

"Thank you," I say. "but my wife likes it when Ben and I wrap her presents ourselves."

"Oh yeah. Personal touch." She nods. "I get it." She smiles as she wraps up the leather-bound sketch book in plain brown paper.

In the corner of the shop, Ben is looking at a shelf of old books for sale. At five years old, he's curious about everything. I like bringing him to new places. When I told a friend I was looking for a gift for Corinne on her birthday, he mentioned this shop. It sold antiques and handmade goods — the perfect place to find a present for my artist wife.

Ex-wife, I remind myself.

The divorce was finalized two months ago. We've been separated for three years. I'd hung on for as long as I could, but staying married wasn't fair to either of us. Or to our son Ben.

"See anything you like, buddy?" I ask him.

He shakes his head. "I'm just looking."

"Here you go," says the clerk, pushing the wrapped parcel and my change toward me. "I hope she likes it."

I wave off the money. "Keep the change," I say. "You've been a great help."

"Oh wow. Thanks." She beams at me.

Ben and I walk out into the afternoon sunshine. I look around for someplace I can get coffee. "Are you hungry?" I ask Ben.

He nods. "Can I get a donut?"

"All right. Let's see what we have in these parts." We walk down the sidewalk.

My phone rings. I glance at the caller ID before I answer. "Hey, big bro," I say.

"Do you mind telling me why Garret has no idea where you and Benson are?" says Sebastian. He has his bossy big brother voice on. I love this guy, but he's too much of a mother hen sometimes. I'm twenty-five, I'd been married, and I got a son. But he's still looking out for me like I was a kid.

"That's because I didn't tell him."

"Eric, where are you?"

"Getting Corinne a birthday present. Relax."

"I'd relax if you'd stop ditching your bodyguard to go galavanting about L.A."

"I'm being careful, Sebastian." I never give my real name when I'm out, and I only pay in cash. As far as everyone around me is concerned, I'm not the younger son of oil and banking magnate George Mattheson. I'm just a regular guy taking my son out for a snack. "Don't you ever want to step outside your ivory tower and just ... breathe?"

"No."

I chuckle. "You should try it."

In the corner of the street, I see the glass window of a café. The Foxhole.

"I'm flying back to L.A. tonight," Sebastian says. "You and Ben should come over for dinner."

I push open the door of the café. Ben walks in ahead of me. I follow him as he goes a booth by the window and sits down. "Great. I'll see you then." I hang up.

"Was that Uncle Sebastian?" Ben says as I sit down across him.

I grin. "He's making us dinner tonight. I think he misses you."

"Hi," says a waitress. She gives each of us a menu card. She's young, maybe eighteen. Her red hair is pulled up in a loose ponytail and she looks tired, but cheerful. She gives Ben a wide smile.

"Hi," I say. "One coffee, please. Do you have donuts?"

"I'm afraid not. How about a sandwich? We have tuna and egg salad. Ham and cheese too." She points at the items on the menu.

"Oh that's too bad. My son here was hoping to get a donut."

"You're serious?" She glances at Ben. "I thought he was your kid brother."

"My wife and I got married a little young. Ex-wife." It took some time, but saying the words "ex-wife" no longer feels like a punch in the gut.

"I see." She turns to Ben. "I'm sorry, we don't have donuts."

"That's okay," Ben says. "I'll have the tuna sandwich."

"I'll throw in some extra fries." She winks at him before writing on her notepad. "You want a sandwich too?" she asks me.

"I'll have a ham and cheese," I say. "Do I get extra fries too?"

She laughs, eyes twinkling. "Sure. We have really good milkshakes," she says to Ben.

Her eyes are pretty. I wonder if she's old enough for me to notice how pretty her eyes are.

"Okay," Ben says.

"Chocolate, strawberry or vanilla?"

"Chocolate. Thank you."

"Okay, we got one coffee, one ham and cheese, one tuna, one chocolate milkshake. Extra fries all around. Anything else?"

Your number.

It's what I would have said if Ben wasn't sitting in front of me. Also, if I were the kind of sleazy guy who hit on the wait staff. Which I wasn't. "No, that's fine. Uhm, you don't have a name plate."

"Sorry. This is a part-time job, and I'm new. My name's Victoria."

"College student?"

"Yeah. I'm a junior at Cal State." She put the notepad back in her pocket and collected the menu cards. "I'll be back with your coffee and milk shake."

"Thanks."

A junior. That would make her about twenty. Old enough for me to look at, even if I couldn't ask for her number.

"You think your Mom will like it?" I say, my hand on the gift. It's technically Ben's gift for Corrine. I got her a pair of ruby earrings. She doesn't like to wear expensive jewelry often, but rubies always look good on her.

Ben nods. "Are you coming over for her birthday, Dad?"

"We'll see. But the two of you will have fun together, right?" I have custody of Ben, but he stays with Corinne in Austin every other weekend. She and I don't see each other much. "How is your Mom?"

"She's okay. She's been painting a lot."

A few minutes later, Victoria is back with our order. "Just let me know if you need a refill for that coffee," she says.

"That's a lot of fries," I say. "Thanks." I glance at Ben.

"Thank you," he says.

"You're welcome." She goes off to another table to take orders.

Ben picks up a fry and takes a bite. "She's nice," he says.

Does he notice me staring at her? "She is," I reply. The ham and cheese sandwich isn't spectacular, but the coffee is hot and strong the way I like it.

I watch Ben sip his milkshake, and my heart swells with joy. Corinne and I may not be together, but my son would have the happy, carefree childhood I never had. Money is useful for a good many things, but I would have traded my family's wealth to have an actual father growing up. Sebastian and I spent less time with my father than our nannies, tutors and bodyguards. At least he and I had each other. But it didn't mean we didn't grow up with some resentment towards dear old dad. Sebastian went so far as to have his last name legally changed to my mother's maiden name when he turned eighteen.

The warm smell of toasted dough and cinnamon makes me look up. Victoria is standing with two donuts on two small plates. "Okay, this isn't on the menu," she says, setting the plates on the table. "But I convinced the cook to let me fry these up for you. It's my Dad's recipe."

"That looks good," I say, grinning. "But you didn't have to go through all that trouble."

"No trouble at all." She smiles at Ben. "I hope you like it."

He gives her a huge smile. "Thanks, Victoria," he says.

"You're welcome, sweetie."

She's about to leave when I ask her, "Could I borrow your pen?"

"Sure." She hands it to me.

I wait until she's gone, then I take a paper napkin and scribble a note. There's a nervous flutter in my stomach as I write down my phone number at the bottom. I fold up the napkin and put it in my shirt pocket.

Ben is eating his donut. "Good?" I ask.

"Uh huh," he says. "Can we come back here?"

"Absolutely."

We stay for a bit, long enough for Ben to finish his donut and shake. I leave two hundred-dollar bills under my coffee cup, along with the note.

Victoria is serving another table as Ben and I get up to leave. I pause, hoping to catch her eye, but her attention is taken entirely by the group of middle-aged men she's serving sandwiches to.

"Let's go, Ben." I'd texted Garret a few minutes ago; he should be pulling up around the block right about now.

My chauffeur-slash-bodyguard gets out of the car to open the door for me and Ben. "Did you enjoy the afternoon, sir?" I grin. "Very much," I say. "Sorry about that, Garret."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Mr. Mattheson."

Before I climb in the SUV, I throw another glance through the café window. I don't see Victoria. I can't tell if she'd seen the note I left her.

Hello. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, so I'm just giving you my phone number. In case you'd like to get together sometime.

I didn't give her my name. I'll tell her if she calls. If she isn't interested, she could just throw the note away.

I hope she doesn't.

***THE END***