Surviving the Rich-Sunshine and Sir Ch. 02

Bittersweet Discovery

"Mr. Laird? Can I get you anything else?"

Killian looked at Heather and handed her his credit card and valet ticket. "Not tonight Heather. Thank you."

She smiled and disappeared into the side station to run his card. Laughter erupted from Paul's group and Killian drained his glass of wine trying to erase the sour taste in his mouth. He knew Rae hated every moment, but she still did it. Money had that effect, and with her circumstances being what they were, it was understandable. Disappointing, but still understandable.

"As always, it was a pleasure Mr. Laird." Heather put the check presenter on the table and smiled. "The leftovers from your luncheon have been packed up for delivery to the shelter, and your wine has been ordered. Are you sure you don't want to stick around for another glass? Maybe some dinner?"

Killian chuckled and said, "Thank you Heather, but I have a flight to catch in the morning."

He pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. "For all your outstanding service."

"Thank you so much Mr. Laird," she said, beaming. "Merry Christmas."

"You too," he said standing.

He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door, the last three envelopes just poking out of the pocket. He stopped for a few words with an acquaintance here and there at the bar, holiday well wishes flying back and forth, most everyone smiling drunkenly. When he reached the front desk he pulled the envelopes from his pocket. "Thank you for all your help in making our luncheon a success," he said. "And for holding my table, which on Christmas Eve had to be challenging."

"Our pleasure Mr. Laird," Lucia replied.

He handed Lucia and Kelsey their cards and stepped over to the coatroom.

"Leaving so soon?" Rae asked innocently.

"You don't think six hours was long enough?" he said.

"Not for us," she said, her eyes twinkling.

"This is why I can't stay away," he said, glancing at the other two. "You fatten my ego."

"We do our best," Lucia said, with a giggle.

He looked at Rae and held out her card. "A card for my coat."

She handed him his coat and said, "Thank you Mr. Laird. That's very generous of you."

"And no degradation necessary," he said, his eyes flicking to her cleavage and then the lounge.

Her cheeks turned scarlet, and while her smile didn't falter, her eyes burned with shame. But she held up and rolled with it, even though he could see she preferred to fade into the overstuffed coatroom and disappear.

"Have a wonderful holiday Rae," he said, warmly. "Ladies."

"Goodbye Mr. Laird!"

"Merry Christmas Mr. Laird. Thank you!"

Lucia and Kelsey smiled brightly, holding their cards. He knew the moment he was out the door, the envelopes would be ripped open.

"Happy holidays Mr. Laird," Rae forced out through her smile. "Drive safe."

He let his gaze linger on her cleavage a moment before heading for the door.

"Rae?" he heard behind him. "Is everything ok?"

"Mmhmm. Just...tired. It's been a long day."

"Aren't you going to open yours?" followed him out the door.

"Not right now," Rae replied. "I'll do one last restroom check and then I have to go."

"Mr. Laird," the valet said, opening the car door. "Have a great evening."

"Thank you Rohan," he replied, palming him a fifty. "Stay warm. You won't be able to enjoy your son's first Christmas if you're sick."

"I'm trying sir," Rohan said, with a grin. "Thank you."

Killian pulled the door shut and left, driving to a darkened corner of the mall parking lot which afforded him a good view of the Hillcrest. Turning off the lights, he waited. It wasn't long before Rae walked out, her curls streaming out behind her as the wind picked up. She had a short pleasant exchange with the valets, and then took the path to the employee parking lot behind the building. Breath clouds followed her every step, and she held her brown coat closed tightly while she fished keys out of her purse. Headlights flashed as she picked her way across the ice strewn parking lot, and then she opened the door and slid behind the wheel. The car started and he could just see her through a small clear spot on the fogged over windshield. The lights around the parking lot illuminated her fairly clearly, and he watched her grip the steering wheel, staring at nothing. She glanced down at her chest and dissolved into tears. All at once she stopped and wiped her eyes, trying to get a hold of herself. But after a moment she hung her head in her hands and cried.

Killian's whole chest felt like it was being hit with a sledgehammer. He knew, without a doubt, his actions pushed her to this point. She'd already been teetering, feeling like she sold out her values for cash, he could see it in the way she wilted as the day wore on. But he was the one who made her feel cheap. Not even the others had done that.

"Open the card sweetheart," he said, tempted to tear across the parking lot and apologize. "Open it."

Almost like she heard him, she wiped her eyes and took his card out of her bag.

"Open it Rae," he said softly.

She slid her finger along the envelope and pulled out the card. The tears came to an abrupt halt, and she stared at her hands stunned. Killian smiled, hoping the six hundred dollars made her realize he valued her. The other hosts had gotten one hundred from him. That's why he used cards, he wanted to give her more without it being a source of discomfort or resentment.

Rae looked around, like she didn't trust what was in her hands. Suddenly she put the cash down, secured her seatbelt, and tore out of the lot. Instead of heading for the street she crossed the mall, and pulled up in front of one of the anchor stores. She grabbed the cash and looked at the Salvation Army volunteer ringing his bell.

"Don't," he breathed. "You'll regret it when the sting fades."

She needed the money, letting hurt feelings get in the way of paying her bills was sheer stubbornness. He was fully aware of how desperate her situation was, and he was trying to help. She didn't move, her gaze shifted between the money and the volunteer until eventually she slumped her shoulders in defeat. Putting the money in her bag, she drove off.

He relaxed into his seat relieved and watched until her car left the mall, then started his Bentley and headed home. He didn't live more than twenty minutes away, although it took him a good forty minutes to get through the main roads due to holiday congestion. The moment he turned onto his street the quiet eased the tension. Mansions, surrounded by expansive properties, dotted both sides of the road. The bright Christmas lights covering the grounds of most lending a warm, homey feel to the insulated neighborhood. Even his own property and English Tudor home was covered in blue and white lights. The people he hired to decorate had done a wonderful job. He'd never do it himself, no time or desire too.

He pulled into the four car garage and admired his Christmas present to himself, delivered while he was at the restaurant. A midnight blue McLaren 570 GT, pristine and perfect. He'd been a good boy he earned it. Well, maybe not good, but good at his job.

"Thank you Santa," he said, getting out of the Bentley.

Killian walked into the house and went straight to his office. He printed his boarding pass for the flight to Texas, and made himself a drink. Trips back home were a rarity, but after their mother passed his sister insisted he make it back once a year. He loved her, they were a lot alike, but he'd worked hard to get out of the hovel they grew up in, and any trip to the state was a reminder of it. His nephews loved his Yankee accent, as they called it. Another thing he worked hard to lose, his southern twang. From the boardroom to the courtroom, it was better to adopt the standard American television dialect. So he had.

His eyes were drawn to the file on his desk, and a pang of guilt went through his heart. He'd made Rae cry. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but his disappointment got the best of him. Seeing her being ogled like a piece of meat had more than annoyed him, it infuriated him. She deserved better.

He took a sip of his drink, seeing her eyes. She had beautiful blue eyes, and he'd never seen her wear eye makeup. It wasn't necessary, they were arresting without it. The pang returned as he saw those eyes fill with shame. On the flipside, she exposed herself; what he thought mattered to her. He couldn't help but feel good about that fact. With the women at The Hillcrest it was tough to ferret out sincere interest from flattery. Rae was different, which was why he wanted her.

He picked up the file with her financial records and tapped it lightly on the desk. They were barely hanging on, the six hundred dollars he gave her was throwing a cup of water on an inferno. Drastic measures were required or they'd lose their home in two months time.

Killian turned on his computer and pulled up a contract he'd recently put together for a client. There was very little that surprised him anymore, but the request to write the contract had. And even more surprising, the woman signed. Love and relationships could apparently be contracted. He wasn't naïve, he knew people bought and sold love all the time, but this was different. It raised some interesting possibilities he hadn't considered before. He had a full week away to process the idea more thoroughly and to rewrite the contract if he chose. For his own purposes certain items would need to be amended, some discarded, and a few new ones added. But the bones of the contract were the perfect base to build on.

He took a sip of his drink and closed his eyes, seeing Rae walk through the lounge, her hips swaying, the curves of her body tantalizing and inviting. Killian smiled; what he thought mattered to her.