Kiki's Millionaire (5 page)

“I want you to meet my brother, Cal, tomorrow night.
I’ll pick you up at work.” That would certainly discourage this Gary guy.

“Not in your fu- fancy Rolls-Royce, please.”

He grinned at her effort to curb her cursing. It was a
positive development; plus she seemed to actively dislike his money and that
delighted Jim no end. “Do you want me to borrow a friend’s Toyota?”

Kiki laughed, her lighter mood showing in the twinkle
in her eyes. “I can’t imagine you in a Toyota. Even a nice one.”

“I drove a used Volkswagen Rabbit when I was in
college. I also ate take-out Chinese and drank generic beer.” Her cheeks were
soft under his fingers as he stroked her face.

“Well, you don’t have to rush out and buy another
Rabbit. The Mustang you took me out in tonight is just fine.” She appeared to
think about it. “Hey, just how many cars do you have?”

“A few.”

“How many is that?”

It was a little embarrassing. He knew Kiki didn’t own
a car at all, doing all her errands and commuting on her bicycle. “Six. But I’m
thinking about selling a couple.”

Her eyes went wide. “You have six cars?”

Nodding, he tried to change the subject, though, in
reality, he wondered why he needed a car for nearly every day of the week. But
he did like cars; maybe it was a collection kind of thing, like Hummel
figurines. “So, what time do you get off of work? Would five-thirty be too
early?”

“I get off at six. Is that okay?”

He gave her another searing kiss, inhaled her perfume
deeply again—it had to stay with him until the next day—and then
moved away to gather up his coat. “I’ll pick you up at six. Keeting and
Stratham, Limited, on Technology Drive, right?”

She nodded and opened the front door for him. “Yeah.
Good night, Jim.”

It irked him that it had to be good night, when he
really wanted it to be good morning after a more-than-good night. But the
communion would be that much better if he was patient.

Kiki was in Ted Keeting’s office getting chewed out
when six o’clock rolled around. Jim had used his charm on the receptionist and
was waiting in Kiki’s cubicle when she slunk back.

“Hi, hon. You look wonder—What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him and tried to smile. Trying wasn’t
working though. “Oh, hi. Is it six already? Let me hibernate my computer and
grab my coat.”

He was frowning. “You didn’t answer my question, Kiki.
What’s wrong?”

Sighing, Kiki poked at her keyboard and turned off the
monitor before turning to him. “Oh my boss just hates me. It’s been one of
those days.”

Jim stood and rubbed her shoulders for a minute, and
she began to relax under his hands. His voice was intimate as he bent and moved
her hair away from her ear, making room for a light kiss there. “I can tell you
don’t want to talk about it. Will you tell me about it in the car, honey? We’ll
be alone there.”

“Okay.”

On their way toward the door, Gary popped up from his
cubicle. “Hey, Kiki.” He looked over Jim, and then his lips thinned as he
directed a comment toward her. “You don’t know what you’re missing, toots. I
might not be Mister Brawn there, but I have some firepower between my ears;
intelligence will win out over muscles any day.”

“Have a good night, Gary,” she said wearily. The last
thing she wanted to do was be party to a pissing contest.

Unfortunately, Gary had other ideas. “Who’s the smarmy
bouncer?”

“That’s really uncalled for, Gary.” She just wanted to
get out. Nerves regarding her date with Jim and irritation with her boss and
Gary were giving her a headache. One foot in front of the other, just a few
more steps to the door.

Jim steered her by her elbow toward the lobby. “Just
ignore it, Kiki.”

“Well, it’s obvious you wouldn’t choose a guy like
that for his brains. I thought you had more on the ball than that, Kiki. Guess
I was wrong. You’re just an airhead like all women.”

The miserable bastard. This was one too many crappy
moments in the day. If another thing went askew, she thought she’d sit on the
floor and cry. She turned to confront Gary, about to let loose all her
frustration for the day, but Jim squeezed her elbow gently and stopped their progress,
rotating toward the offensive man.

Gary drew himself to his full height, which was a few
inches taller than Kiki, but significantly shorter than Jim. He was
well-groomed, but there was no comparison between Jim and Gary. Jim was a
People cover, while Gary was more like National Enquirer on an alien abduction
day. “Here’s the deal, Gary,” Jim said calmly. “You shut up and I don’t hit
you. You say another word and I do. Easy enough for you to understand?”

Kiki could see the wheels turning in Gary’s head as he
considered the options. Apparently, option number one suited him best. He
dismissed them with a rude gesture and sat back down in his cube. Kiki spared a
glance at Jim and saw the twinkle of a conquering hero in his eyes. Well, at
least someone was pleased with himself.

Her work problems were the topic of conversation once
they’d started toward the Rosicrucian Museum where there was a patrons-only
event going on that evening. Apparently, Ted Keeting had had complaints from
Kiki’s coworkers about how long it took Kiki to get her work done. In her own
defense, Kiki explained that she took her writing very seriously, so she wrote,
revised, edited and proofread everything she produced several times. Her junior
status also meant that everyone piled the projects into her in-basket,
expecting every item to take priority over every other project. Kiki wanted to
perform superior work, but clearly having late assignment after late assignment
was more annoying to them than having the work riddled with errors.

“You’ll just have to work faster,” Jim advised. “Try
leaving out one of the steps you’ve been taking.”

“I know. I just can’t quite do it. How can I turn in
material that I haven’t fact-checked or edited thoroughly?”

“I understand, and it’s admirable that you want things
to be perfect. But don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good. It’s a fine
opportunity for self-discipline, Kiki.”

She snorted. “Damn- I mean, darn corporate drones.”

Apparently taking no offense despite his own CEO
status, Jim smiled at her, then pulled the car up to the valet stand.

* * *

They were admitted immediately; the Rosicrucian’s
fund-raising staff knew who Jim was and were more than a little eager to escort
him in and take his and Kiki’s coats to the coat-check room. Jim thought they
fawned a little too much, and it annoyed him. If people would just treat him
like a person instead of a wallet, he’d be even more inclined to share his
money.

Once in the door, he began scanning the place for Cal.
People were milling around, creating little cliques of patrons admiring the
exhibits. The new display, that of some tomb goods from a recently excavated
gravesite in Egypt, had a queue from its vacuum sealed glass case out to the
lobby. Jim wanted to see it, but he was happy enough to wait until the line
cleared a little. The museum staff wanted to put him and Kiki at the front of
the line, but he demurred. He didn’t really want special treatment; it made him
too prominent. Blending in was always his goal, but for the past ten years,
rarely his achievement. He was often in crowds, often crowded, in fact, and
while it seemed that a person would get used to it, Jim never did.

They met Cal in the mummy room, and the brothers
greeted each other enthusiastically. Jim offered Cal’s date, Ginny, a gentle
handshake and got a warm smile in return. The woman was quite petite, with
pixieish short, blonde hair and bright green eyes.

As Jim watched, Cal shook Kiki’s hand with both of his
own.

“We almost met before,” he told her.

“I kind of recognize you.”

“I was in the coffee shop where you met Jim.”

“Ah. Right! I remember. That was not my finest hour.”

Cal laughed, ending with a big grin. “Even when it set
you up to meet my brother?”

Jim took that cue and piped in. “That was all my good
luck.” He put his arm around Kiki’s slender shoulders, and she leaned her head
against him for a moment. It was a marvelous feeling having her there,
perfectly placed where he could hold her, feel her warmth, and smell the
lavender sweetness of her beautiful chestnut hair. He only hoped he could have
this feeling for a long time. He’d been lucky to find her, now if only he could
keep her.

They toured the place for a while and Jim didn’t see
much that was particularly interesting, except for the popular new exhibit, but
it was entertaining. Champagne flowed, though neither of the men was drinking
alcohol. White-clad servers made the rounds with canapés. After a little while,
Jim and Cal decided to leave the women behind looking at ancient Egyptian
cosmetics and beauty tools, while the men got food at the buffet.

* * *

“Are you having a good time, Kiki?” Ginny asked,
touching Kiki’s arm with a small, well-manicured hand. Kiki noted Ginny’s Jimmy
Choo purse and Manolo shoes. Jealousy didn’t creep through her, but the
accessories did give her information about the woman. She was sure, however,
that Ginny was pleased to be telling everyone about her prosperity.

Smiling as pleasantly as she could, Kiki nodded. “Yes.
How about you?”

Ginny leaned a little closer. “Well, truth to tell, I
think this is a little boring.”

Kiki laughed softly. “I love Egyptian stuff. And Cal
seems to be a nice guy. Have you been dating him long?”

“He’s gorgeous, isn’t he? Those yummy broad shoulders
and height. He and Jim are a lot alike but Cal’s eyes are different: gray.” She
put a hand on Kiki’s arm conspiratorially. “I kind of like the blue better, but
don’t tell Cal. This is our fourth date. I think I might be able to catch this
one.”

Catch? Surprised at the other woman’s candor, Kiki
didn’t quite know what to say.

Ginny didn’t seem to mind continuing the conversation
all by herself. Her champagne flute was empty, but an eagle-eyed server was
there to refill it. “The real prize is Jim, don’t you think? But, of course,
there’s the ghost of his wife to deal with. So sad.” Her mouth turned down at
the corners, but her eyes twinkled with something less wholesome.

“Wife?”

“Oh sure! Didn’t you read that article about him in Us
a couple of years ago, right after his wife died? He was devastated. They’d
been trying to have kids, and when they couldn’t manage it, they went to a
doctor and instead of getting help, they found out that she had some kind of
deadly medical problem. Awful.” She squeezed Kiki’s hand then let it go. “How
do you deal with it? You know he hasn’t had a real relationship since then. I
read the gossip while I’m at the hair-dresser. The pictures are very telling.
One supermodel or actress after another.”

Kiki’s mind was spinning. He hadn’t mentioned a wife
at all. And, as she considered their relationship, she realized that while
they’d been getting closer, there was an agreed upon limit to their liaison:
three dates. What would happen at the end of those three dates? At the end of
tonight? Realizing that she didn’t want it to stop, that it was just barely
beginning, Kiki felt a sudden grief over what would be lost if they quit seeing
each other so soon.

The reality of the disparity between what he
represented and her plebian status was like a brick wall between them. Maybe he
was toying with her because they were so different it was impossible for
anyone—especially her—to conceive of any kind of long-term
relationship. Maybe he was just playing with her for amusement and after this,
he’d go on to the next woman and the next and the next, trying to forget his
wife like a bee amidst a field of eager flowers. And all those flowers were
roses, except for Kiki as the humble daisy in the bunch.

Kiki knew she could never displace a woman who was so
important to Jim. And, really, she didn’t want to. She wanted to be herself,
not an analog for a former loved one.

“I didn’t know, Ginny. Thanks for telling me.”

“We girls need to stick together.”

“I suppose so.”

Linking her arm in Kiki’s, Ginny led her to the next
exhibit. “Do you work?”

That seemed like an odd question. “Yes. I’m in PR.”

“How exciting! I’m trying to get into the perfume
business. My father bought me a little perfumery in Aix-en-Provence and I’m
playing with that.”

“In France?”

“Yes, that’s where Aix is, silly.”

Kiki felt a surge of inadequacy. She could barely make
her rent, and here this little pixie woman was “playing” at the perfume
business. “I’ve never been there; I haven’t traveled abroad.”

“Oh, you must go sometime. Maybe Jim will take you.
Oh…I’m sorry. He’s such a short-term kind of guy, planning for the future is
just futile. I wonder what kind of woman will finally get him to settle down.”

The consensus seems to be anyone but me. “I can’t
imagine.” Kiki withdrew her arm, and tightened up the scarf around her throat,
suddenly chilled.

“Where did you go to school, dear?” Ginny asked
genially, seemingly unaware of Kiki’s discomfort.

“U.C. Berkeley.” She was proud of her alma mater, and
her Master’s degree had been hard-won.

“Oh! A public school! How…how…provincial. Poor Kiki.
How did you stand it? I went to Vassar.”

Of course she did. The whole day, and now the evening,
had been exhausting. Kiki felt a wave of lethargy encase her like mucilage.
Fortunately, Jim and Cal returned with food and saved Kiki from having to chat
politely with Ginny much more. Kiki’s status as the poor girl, the disposable
plaything, was now patently obvious to her. She just wanted to go home and have
the night and the whole Jim-experience end.