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Right.
I feel stupid for asking, disappointment momentarily marring my otherwise cheerful mood.
“No worries,” I say.
“Have a good one, yeah?”
Margot calls on the in-office phone to congratulate me. Doesn’t even bother showing up, which is unlike her.
Amir stops by and gives me a case with a blue fossilized mammoth tusk, which I stare at, startled—I actually got a present for my birthday.
The rest of the day is uneventful, mostly me zoning out with thoughts about my family. It’s my first birthday when Dad didn’t call me. Though his phone calls were always a courtesy, it still hurts.
Several cousins call and shout congratulations into the phone. Now that I’m officially a billionaire, more distant relatives are concerned about my well-being. Even those who haven’t been on my radar for years saw theForbesarticle that mentioned me and my father’s death, so now my assistants have to filter through three times as many invasive phone calls.
Several of my dad’s friends call. Courtesy calls, again—I answer with the same courtesy because networking is important.
I get a surprise call from Mr. Volkhonskiy, the president of the State Bank in Belarus, who my father was close friends with for as long as I can remember. He resides in the States now and came for my father’s funeral, so I have a long conversation with him.
My email notifications light up with routine emails from Dad’s former staff—my birthday is probably still on their scheduled emails.From the White House staff, they say in the signature lines.
There comes a blast from the past in the form of a text from Anna Reich.
Happy Birthday, love!
Really?
I don’t bother replying since she didn’t have the decency to show up to my father’s funeral.
For the rest of the day, the phone is mostly silent. Kat is gone too early, getting ready for dinner, and I suddenly feel like canceling the dinner and just spending time with her, doing something ridiculously boring instead of wild sex. Drinking. Watching movies. Pulling out an old Monopoly game—not the Post-Change edition that they released recently, but the very first one—and spend hours nerding out.
It’s early evening, and I finally leave the Center, get home, take a shower, and change.
Kat’s shirt is hanging over the shelf by my bed. She complained that the maid puts her stuff away and then she has a hard time finding things, so the maid doesn’t touch her things anymore. I emptied out a closet for her to use when she’s at my place. I love order and cleanness, but the gray floors of Cliff Villa definitely look better with her clothes scattered over them. She doesn’t have many clothes here, except panties, because the wild thing gets too excited and ruins them. Maybe we need to eliminate them from her wardrobe altogether.
The thought makes me laugh as I fix my hair in the mirror and walk out into the living room.
The villa’s acquiring Kat’s scent and looks like there’s life in it, which is a strange thought because I’ve resided here for two years.
Alright. Just an hour at Marlow’s place, and I’ll snatch Kat away.
Want me to pick you up?I text Kat.
Kat: It’s okay. I’ll see you at Marlow’s!
I leave the villa, jump on my bike, and zoom to Marlow’s.
The memory his drunk episode and me and Kat breaking his coffee table brings a smile to my face as I ring the bell, and the door opens to reveal Kat.
God damn!
She looks great in cargo pants and tractor boots as well as in a mini-dress, like right now, paired with stilettos, but also in a bikini, naked—you name it, Kat rocks it.
She strikes a fashionable pose with a dazzling smile.
“Hey, you,” she casually throws at me and steps aside to let me in.
“A kiss would be nice,” I say, stepping inside, my eyes on her as I’m about to swoop her into my arms—I deserve more than a kiss on a day like this—when the sudden sound assaults my eardrums.
