Her Billionaire Santa

by Allen, Jewel

  Would you like to join me?

  Palm to face.

  He was obviously dinged in the head, crazy as they come. A fool.

  Because nothing good could come of it. She was too sincere, too sweet, to be trifled with. Some girls in his past life he could have a dinner date with, he could even kiss them, and they understood when he moved on.

  But Katy, now. She would misinterpret everything as a build-up to a marriage proposal.

  What would be so bad about that?

  It would mean dating, kissing, loving…and opening himself up to hurt again.

  He closed his eyes to the pain that washed over him. He used to carry a picture of Amanda in his wallet but he took it out a few months ago. He wished now that he had kept it in the credit card slot. It was a good reminder of why he should keep his distance from Katy.

  Of course, seeing Katy in person when he picked her up for dinner demolished his well-laid plans.

  “Hello,” she said, smiling broadly on Mama Muni’s porch.

  “Hi.” He gazed at her attractive black tunic and matching pants and averted his eyes.

  Why did she have to look so pretty?

  He went to the curb to hail a taxi. On the ride over, he was quiet and answered her questions in monosyllables until she took the hint and looked out the window instead. Once seated at a relatively upscale restaurant, he mustered a stern expression.

  “Do you still feel sick from the strawberries?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “This is just my determined-to-stay-single face.”

  Katy blinked. “Oh. You are funny.”

  “You’re not supposed to find me funny. You’re supposed to run as far away from me as you can.”

  “Why should I do that?”

  “Because I sacrifice maidens to the gods.”

  She glanced at him, concerned. Leaning over, she felt his forehead. Her touch did tricks to his body, made him want to lean close and kiss her.

  “Are you sick?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He was sick in the head.

  “But you’re not warm.”

  His body tingled with pleasure at her touch.

  Warmth seeped from his face to his neck and spread across his chest. “I woke up punchy this morning,” he said. “I know I’’m sick, but the cure is…complicated.”

  “Oh dear. There’s probably pharmacies around here.”

  That cured inappropriate crushes? Because this was what it was.

  He doubted it.

  “Maybe,” he said. “Maybe I’ll find the answer up on Mount Pike.”

  “Pacaya.”

  “Yes, that.”

  She scrunched her nose. “You’re acting funny. I wonder if this high altitude is affecting your brain.”

  “It’s certainly affected my heart.”

  Katy looked even more panicked. “The exertion, is that it?”

  “Yes. Yes, that’s it,” he lied.

  CHAPTER NINE

  KATY

  Katy braced herself for more bizarre talk from Marcus. He certainly was acting strangely today. To her relief, he seemed back to his normal self, brooding and preoccupied with whatever billionaires thought about on vacation.

  He had to make several phone calls before he could finally sit down to join her. The server was taking a while to get their order anyway, so he didn’t miss anything.

  “Everything okay back home?” she asked.

  “No,” he snarled.

  She retreated behind her menu. “Sorry I asked.”

  “Sorry.” He closed his eyes. “I’m trying to close on a deal, and the other people are being…” He paused. “Whew. Just a tough day. Billionaire first-world problems.”

  “Ouch. That’s even worse than the rest of us regular folks.”

  “Spoken like a true peasant.”

  She gasped, shocked he would say such a thing.

  He set down his phone and twirled it on the table. “Don’t want to be lumped with the common man?”

  “Well, yes,” she said, “but ‘peasant’’ sounds so harsh.”

  “The joke was that the daughter of a mall magnate couldn’t be one.”

  She blinked at him.

  “Get it?” He shook his head. “Never mind. Scratch my last joke.”

  She sighed. “Sometimes I don’t know if I should laugh or throw something at you.”

  His hand stilled over his phone. “If you have poor aim, then I’d rather you tried to throw something at me.”

  “I didn’t sign on with a baseball team, if that’s what you mean.”

  His glance lingered on her face. “You’re far too pretty to be on a baseball team.”

  “Hey, girls can play baseball.”

  “And if your team were smart, they’d have you play on the field to distract the other team’s players.”

  She blushed. He was being odd. Flirtatious, was that the word?

  At the same time that she was confused, a delicious flutter hovered in her stomach. Especially when she caught him glancing her way.

  “Pacaya, of course,” Katy piped up, “is a warm-up for the big hike we’re taking to the Acatenango.”

  “Is that where we throw a sacrifice into the volcano to appease it?”

  “Hopefully not on purpose.”

  He stroked his beard. “Just accidentally?”

  “Hopefully neither.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  “I don’t know. My mom seems to think my returning home alive is a good thing.” She peered at him. “Are you an orphan, Marcus?”

  “My parents are both still alive, but I seldom talk to them. Correction. Actually, I talk to my father at work. He still putters around. Why do you ask?”

  “Because you act like no one would care if you came back alive or dead.”

  “I’m sure my board of directors will buy an expensive wreath for my funeral.”

  She sighed. “You’re making fun of me.”

  “I am?”

  The server finally arrived, but neither one was ready to order.

  “We’re pretty inefficient,” he whispered when the server left.

  She chuckled. “Between us being slow customers and my bad Spanish, we might starve to death.”

  “We can always eat strawberries washed in tap water.” He grimaced. “Bad joke. Simply the thought of it makes me ill.”

  “You could probably get used to the water here,” she said. “You’re such a newbie. That’s the problem.”

  When the server arrived again, his pen poised and his face wearing a long-suffering expression, Katy ordered a chicken stew. Marcus spun his finger as though it were a plane nosediving and picked something. Katy peeked at it.

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He handed back the menu. “Positive. I order it all the time in New York. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. I’ve ordered it zero times.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  When their orders arrived, Marcus nearly gagged. “What is that?” He poked at the tubular coil.

  “Intestines,” Katy said, smiling innocently.

  ***

  MARCUS

  Underneath that innocent exterior was a mischievous girl. Marcus shook his head as he recalled how Katy laughed at him while he was eating the intestines. The thought made him gag, but it was actually pretty tasty if you liked rubber. It wasn’t his favorite, though.

  As they started the hike to Pacaya with the group, Marcus regretted eating the chicken guts. His stomach roiled at the mere effort of putting one hiking boot in front of the other, but it was too late to back out. He would have to stay at the trailhead and entertain himself for the next few hours while Katy climbed with a mixture of locals and Coloradans who reminded everyone they were expert hikers in their Patagonia jackets.

  Their hiking outfit brought a pack mule with them. It looked funny, like a horse with oversized Pinocchio ears. He had an important job to do: to carry their hot dogs for their barbeque.

&n
bsp; “Would this volcano blow while we’re hiking, do you think?” Marcus asked their guide, Felipe.

  “Blow?” Felipe echoed. “Ka-boom?” He made a sweeping gesture with his hands.

  “Yes. Ka-boom.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “Really?” Greg from Colorado said. “It might erupt?”

  “That’s what this guy says.” Marcus pointed at Felipe.

  Katy nudged him. “I don’t think it’s going to happen anytime soon. Last full eruption was in the 70s.”

  Greg’s body seemed to sag with relief, though he still glanced with trepidation at the curl of smoke on the volcano.

  “So it’s due for one,” Marcus persisted.

  After a little while, Greg stopped altogether.

  The guide glanced at him. “Something wrong?”

  Greg wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Altitude sickness?”

  “We’re so close to the top,” the guide said.

  Greg groaned. “Oh, all right.”

  A few minutes later, they turned a bend and came upon cracks in the ground. A mixture of red-hot lava, steam, and a sulphuric smell roiled in the gaps. One of the tour company’s employees stopped the mule and unpacked the hotdogs. He handed the sticks out to everyone.

  Katy joined Marcus at a gap in the ground with a low-grade lava grill, and her hotdog fell. “Oh dear,” she said.

  She stood to get another hotdog, when Marcus dropped his too.

  “Goodbye, hotdogs,” he said solemnly.

  Katy’s mouth twitched, and soon they were laughing and putting more hotdogs on their sticks.

  The crater wasn’t exactly accessible. They hiked as close as they could before they turned around for selfies and photos against a backdrop of a smoking crater. That was when Marcus saw the sunset.

  Marcus had traveled the world. He’d spent many sunsets looking out over the ocean, from similar vantage points on mountains, from the Sahara Desert, the Eiffel Tower…but never had he come this close to God.

  Yes. God.

  A stillness came over Marcus, as though one of the clouds reached over to envelop him. Yet no one was around him, no one but Katy Stevens and her sunny optimism.

  “How beautiful,” she breathed. She was still looking at Pacaya. If the volcano were erupting, she would probably have a similar attitude.

  “Like a dragon giving birth.”

  She chuckled. “That’s an interesting thought.”

  “Did you see the sunset?”

  Her head swiveled, and she was lost in the throes of beauty once again.

  As a group, they scrabbled off the mountain in the deepening darkness. Katy would have stumbled had Marcus not caught her hand.

  “You’re freezing,” he said.

  “Just a li-li-ttle,” she stammered.

  He caught both of her hands in his and rubbed them. They warmed a bit, just as his skin began to throb as though on fire. She was standing so close, her breath fanning his neck. It was dark, and no one would be able to see or know any different if he were to place a kiss on her lips.

  But he and she would.

  And that would spell trouble.

  The pull of the kiss overwhelmed him, but not enough that he couldn’t let go of her as though she’d scalded him. He made his way to be with the others.

  They all hiked down to the tour van, piled in, and soon they reached Antigua’s city center.

  Katy was quiet. Maybe she was tired. Maybe she was thinking of him, because, occasionally, she would look over at Marcus.

  He certainly wasn’t thinking of her. Or the way her body was relaxed against the seat, one arm stretched behind her head. Or the way her long hair fanned over her shoulder.

  When the driver dropped Marcus off, he had to get past Katy in a tangle of legs. He stood at the open door with everyone watching. It was certainly not the time to say a special goodbye to Katy. He simply thanked everyone, waved, and shut the van door.

  CHAPTER TEN

  KATY

  December 15

  Katy was glad for sunrise as she’d tossed and turned the night before, and she was happy she no longer had to try to sleep.

  A low-grade fever had seemed to consume her as she lay in bed, thinking of Marcus. He had almost kissed her last night.

  A delicious warmth coursed through her veins at the memory.

  Truth was, she’d wanted him to kiss her. But then he’d turned and left her. Just like that. Her stomach had plummeted in disappointment.

  She’d gone back to the group, faking a smile. Marcus had been talking to someone else, so Katy stayed away. He was cool to her on the hike down and in the van ride, like a stranger.

  Why would he want to kiss her? She was invisible, as she always wanted. A behind-the-scenes kind of person. She wondered if his deceased wife was a good kisser.

  The thought filled her with guilt. How could she even think of such a horrid thing?

  Rolling to her side, she faced the open window. Antigua was waking up, with roosters crowing, tuk-tuks on the move, and birds chirping loudly. Normally, she’d have derived pleasure from this simple scene, but today, she felt hollow.

  With a sigh, she rolled off the bed and got to her knees.

  Dearest Heavenly Father. I think I’m starting to fall for Marcus.

  She raised her head in panic, blinking into the lightening morning. But they’d just met. How could she possibly be attracted to him? Sure, he was funny and handsome, but he could be sarcastic. Hurtful.

  Are you perfect? came the soft chastising voice in her prayer.

  Definitely not, Lord. I’m scared. He seems to like me, and then he doesn’t. And he’s had a wife before. Maybe he’s not ready to like someone again. Should I…encourage him? Besides, he’s a billionaire. A wealthy man like my father, who’’s made poor choices in his life because of money.

  No answer came. Katy covered her face with her hands.

  She hadn’t felt this confused in a long time.

  After getting showered and dressed, her cell phone buzzed.

  Marcus: Have you had breakfast yet?

  She paused as though he were asking a question with serious consequences.

  Katy: No.

  Marcus: Meet you at the same place?

  She bit her lip and smiled. Should she?

  Katy: Sure.

  Marcus: Great. See you.

  She took a deep breath and checked her reflection one last time in the small mirror nailed on the side of a wardrobe.

  Her eyes sparkled, and her face glowed.

  “Katy,” she scolded herself. “Don’t be falling in love with a billionaire, now.”

  She took a tuk-tuk to Cesar’s. Marcus was waiting in the foyer and watched her get out and walk to him. As she got closer, he averted his eyes.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey.” His voice sounded distant. She wondered why he bothered inviting her if her company obviously made him feel uncomfortable.

  He followed her and the server to a table. Soon, the same breakfast arrived.

  “So…what are we doing today?” Marcus asked.

  “We’ll stick around here. It’s the start of posadas.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It literally means ‘inn.’ A nine-evening tradition of processions. It symbolizes Joseph and Mary’s search for an inn. They usually start it December 16, but this year, they’re doing it on the fifteenth.”

  His face clouded over, and she remembered his aversion for Christmas. “Cool,” he said in a polite voice. “What about tomorrow? What are we doing?”

  “We’re hiking at sunset to a volcano called Acatenango.”

  “This a day hike?” He rolled up a cheese slice and took a hearty bite.

  “More than that,” Katy said. “It’s an overnighter.”

  He stopped mid-chew. “In this weather?”

  “We’ll want to dress warmly, of course, and we’ll be in tents.”

  He peered out the window at the clo
uds obscuring the volcanic mountains. “I don’t know.”

  “Marcus James, were you not a Boy Scout?”

  “Well, yes…”

  “Didn’t you go on winter camps?”

  “Yes, but never up a mountain.” He turned the tables on her. “How come you’re so into roughing it?”

  ”Just picked it up in college with some friends.”

  Marcus wiped the crumbs off his beard and tossed the napkin on the table. “I get the feeling you think I’m being wimpy for asking sensible questions.”

  “Where’s your sense of adventure?” she teased.

  “Okay, okay. Fair enough. I’m on board.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  KATY

  In the afternoon, Katy invited Marcus over to visit Mama Muni’s family.

  “It would be a shame to come all the way here and not see how they do Christmas,” Katy said.

  Marcus grimaced as though he still had indigestion.

  “Is there something wrong?” Katy asked.

  He hesitated. “I just…don’t believe in Christmas anymore. This is a bit overwhelming for me.”

  Feeling sassy, she winked at him. “I also don’t believe in Santa, but here you are, playing him.”

  “I’m not exactly giving out money left and right.”

  “But you will, at the end of your contest, right?”

  Katy went to find Mama Muni in the kitchen and asked if she could use any help with their nativity scene.

  After she answered, Katy translated for Marcus. “She would love the help.”

  Mama Muni led them to a corner of her house.

  “So we need to take the pieces out of a box?” Marcus asked.

  Katy shook her head. “We’re building it.”

  Mama Muni handed them blocks of wood and tools. She gave them pictures of what she wanted the figurines to look like and let them loose.

  Katy smiled to herself as she watched Marcus glance from the picture to the wood and back.

  “It doesn’t have to be Tiffany-worthy,” she said.

  “I know. It’s just been a while since I’ve been in shop. Are you sure she can’t just buy a set from Walmart?”

  “Well, first of all, there is no Walmart here, and second, she likes to be creative and compete. This is like the Olympics of Christmas contests.”