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Her gaze darts past the back of her seat, and she leans in closer and lowers her voice. “I just have something really important to do in London and I can’t be late.” She seems to get lost in thought for a moment and pauses, biting her lip. Then she says something that makes my heart skip a beat. “And maybe I wanted to impress you after making an ass of myself.”
“You didn't make an ass yourself. Everyone gets afraid when there's turbulence.” I want to put her at ease. “Besides, I was already impressed.” I lean in closer, like I'm the one imparting a secret. “You're the first woman who hasn't tried to accost me on a plane. Usually when I sit next to women, they're constantly complimenting my appearance, trying to touch my leg or asking me out on dates, even though it's the most inappropriate time. Do you know how many times I've had to take my headphones out of my ears just to answer questions I didn’t want to listen to?”
The corners of her lips curve slightly, as if she can't tell if I'm making fun of her or being genuine. As if right on cue, the woman across the aisle leans in and asks me if I’m the guy she saw on a tech magazine cover last week.
I lift my eyebrows in a see what I mean? expression and the woman next to me lets out a soft laugh. Turning to the stranger, I lift both shoulders. “I have no idea what magazine you were looking at, so I can’t tell you.” As I say the words she leans in closer.
“Can I get your autograph?” she asks, offering me her phone screen on a white background.
“I’m just a nobody, so that would be very disappointing,” I say.
“How about your number, then?” she asks, her gaze ticking to mine. I feel the woman next to me tense up and know she’s not enjoying this exchange. But neither am I.
“I’m sorry, I-” I scramble for an excuse.
“He’s my boyfriend, but he’s bad at hurting people’s feelings. He thinks you’re beautiful, but since he’s with me, he has to say no. Sorry,” the woman next to me says quickly, and I glance at her with quiet thanks. She nods her head, clearly relieved she didn’t overstep.
“Thank you,” I mouth, and she smiles slightly.
“No problem,” she mouths back as the woman lets out a huge sigh and mumbles something unpleasant-sounding that I can’t quite make out under her breath.
While I know that I was actually featured on the cover of a tech magazine last month, the woman's question illustrates my point beautifully, and I can’t help but feel I’ve made a new friend.
“You weren’t kidding,” my new friend says in a soft voice. She says the words, though I see her scanning my face and my heart drops, certain that she's going to figure out what the woman was talking about... and who I am. The second she knows the truth, it’s all over.
Trying to remain positive, I shake my head and smile. “No, I wasn't. I get that a lot. People think I'm some kind of tech genius or something, but I'm really not.” The truth is that I got lucky with an app I made a few years ago. I went viral on a short video sharing platform and made me a lot of money. That, combined with the fact that I'm somewhat good looking, makes me a prime target for magazines looking to sell a few more copies. The latest one that the woman saw me on was a magazine that was debating whether or not I was single after I was seen at different events with different women.
“You do look familiar, but that doesn't seem like a reason to harass you.” Even as she says the words, she eyes me with curiosity.
I shrug, trying to keep as casual as possible. The last thing I want to do is tell her about the social media platform that connects people based on their interests and hobbies that I created. Spark had started out small, then had grown into a monster I didn’t expect... or like. Now it's used more as a dating website, which I'd never expected and really don't enjoy. Combining the best of all the current existing platforms, the site connects people on their likes and dislikes, their hobbies, what they’re looking for in friends, and utilizes short videos as means of communication. And oh, man does it rake in the cash.
As a kid that grew up not knowing if I'd get the next meal I needed, having all the money in the world now seems impossibly overwhelming. I'd gone from a kid with twenty bucks in his pocket to a billionaire, and it’s overwhelming at times.
My sudden catapult to fame has completely destroyed most of the relationships in my life - my best friend won't even talk to me because he thinks that changed... because I refused to buy him and his baby momma a million-dollar home.
The girlfriend I'd had when I created Spark tried to sue me, claiming that she deserved half of the profits for everything, even though I've never discussed Spark with her and kept everything super-secret. And then she tried to sue me for damages and suffering because “being with me when I created the app was almost like being abused.” Both cases have been thrown out of court, of course.
My own mother has tried to tell me I owe her for pushing me out instead of aborting me like she wanted.
The only person in my life that has stayed constant is my dad. That's the reason why I bought him a home and made sure he could retire, while giving him a card with access to an account he could never run dry... because I knew he wouldn't try and was respectful of my money. He'd even asked my permission to buy a new chair, and tried to buy one that was frugal - until I found his online purchase, reversed it, and bought him a chair he deserves. Of course, he's given me grief about it, saying that he would have preferred the other chair until he sat in the new one that I bought him. After that, there was not another word out of him other than thank you.
I take care of the people I love. Everyone else can suck eggs.
“I just wanted to say thank you again for being so kind and understanding.” The stranger puts her hand on mine as the seatbelt light comes on. It’s time to land, but my heart is still soaring.
Chapter Three
Moira
I really need to stop thinking about the guy on the plane.
With damp hands, I adjust my blue dress and scan the huge open room with a bored expression. I'm not sure whose idea it was to have the wedding reception in the lobby of an upscale hotel, but this venue certainly isn’t for me. Maybe she’d inherited an evil mother-in-law with bad taste.
I've known Olivia since college and she's always been a hopeless romantic. She spent her downtime rescuing animals and dating, when I was studying and coming up with side hustles for my side hustles. I admire her kindness, but I pity her weakness. While mine and my other friends’ endeavors paid off, Olivia hasn't kept up with our wealth or growth. But even beyond the wealth discrepancy, she allows people to walk all over her, and I don't know how she does it or why she's willing to put up with that kind of treatment.
How long will her marriage to this lawyer even last?
As a waiter walks past me with a platter of champagne, I take a glass with a smile. Quickly bringing the flute to my lips, I think again about when they'd said their wedding vows and I nearly choked on my own spit not to laugh. My good friend, the hopeless romantic, had somehow managed to find a lawyer husband with the name Darrin Hart.
